It was something past midnight and just about everybody had gone to bed. But Clarke was awake, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen soon. She told herself that she was just overworked and exhausted – and both were true – but she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She shivered and crossed her arms, watching the flames from the fireplace dwindle and burn out.
'That's enough, Clarke,' she thought, 'if you stay out here any longer you'll go mad.' She quickly got up to leave. Wow. Too quickly. Her head started to spin and she hastily found her way back down to the ground.
"You're dehydrated." Bellamy's voice came from behind her, making her jump. He sat down next to her and handed her a tin cup.
"It's not coffee, but it'll keep you alive," he said solemnly, watching her take a sip from the corner of his eye. His mouth twitched as she downed it and a small smile spread across his face in response to the satisfied sigh she gave. Their eyes locked for a moment before she handed him his cup back.
"Thanks."
"Anything for you, Princess."
He had said it jokingly but that didn't stop the blood from rushing from her chest to her cheeks. Thank God it was so dark outside. There had been something so affectionate and domestic about what he'd said, it made her happy and sad and homesick at the same time. Bellamy noticed her silence and cleared his throat.
"So why are you still awake?" he asked, fishing for a conversation. Clarke brought her knees up to her chest and heaved a sigh.
"No doubt the same reason as you; looking for some psycho that wants to finish what he started."
"Or she." He argued, that small smile back on his face. She shrugged and closed her eyes.
"All I know is that I've never been this exhausted and awake at the same time in my life," she mumbled. He laughed at that, which made her eyes snap open. A laughing Bellamy Blake was something she had to see.
His laugh was soft, and his usually dark eyes were alight with what looked like happiness. He had laughter lines and the freckles on his cheeks stood out more. He looked young and innocent and something about the image made Clarke's heart ache. Whether it was a good ache or bad ache she didn't know, but she thought she'd be better off not going there.
"So, go to sleep, I can manage without you." He urged, but Clarke wasn't ready to leave him alone.
"No, what if they attack you from behind or something? I'm staying here with you."
"Clarke," he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.
"Don't tell me I need rest. You need rest. You were attacked last night, Bellamy. You need sleep whether you know it or not. Whether you like it or not. You shouldn't be out here in the first place." She rested her hand on his arm and looked up at him with pleading eyes. Bellamy was silent for a while before he nodded and got up.
"Okay. But you're coming too," he stated, rubbing dirt off his pants. Clarke didn't budge.
"No, I'm on lookout." Bellamy huffed and gave her a stern look.
"You said you'd stay with me. Well now I'm leaving. Come on, Princess." He held out his hand, which she stared at for about a minute. She didn't want to take it, but when she stifled a yawn he brought it down closer to where she was sitting. She was reluctant to take it, but she did anyway. He pulled her up and the two stood side by side.
"Where are you sleeping tonight?" she asked. This earned her a confused look from him.
"Don't tell me you're sleeping in your own tent. The one you were attacked in. Last night."
He rolled his eyes and Clarke made a sound that implied she was unimpressed.
"Well where else should I sleep? The dropship?"
"No. You'll freeze to death before you get the chance to be killed." She answered hesitantly. Bellamy sighed and the two began their trek to the tents.
"Well you and I could always bunk," he suggested once they arrived at her tent. Clarke was about to protest, but her eyes were beginning to droop and she could see the way he winced every time he took a deep breath. Also, she couldn't help but notice the urgency in his voice. He sounded scared. No, not scared. Was it...concern? Exhaustion? Desire?
The last word had flitted through her mind like a tiny butterfly, and had disappeared before she could even register the thought.
"Fine. But don't bleed on my blankets this time."
•••
Bellamy and Clarke were alone by the campfire. He was resting his head on her crossed leg while she absentmindedly played with his hair. The only person who had ever played with his hair was his mother, and that was years before she'd been floated. But Clarke's fingers moved differently from that of his mother. Her moves were rhythmic, calming. His mother's had been short and quick and urgent, and usually in front of guards. But Clarke had a calming effect on him. Sure, she also had an annoying effect, and she had the tendency to piss people off, but her light was too bright to overlook.
He reached up and twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers. Her daydream came to an end and she looked down at him, her blue eyes slightly darker than usual.
"What's wrong, Princess?" He asked when he saw her serious expression. She frowned and bit her lip.
"Something…" her voice trailed off after the first word. Something about the look in her eyes made Bellamy sit upright. He watched her intently as she stared into the almost-burnt out fire.
"Clarke?"
But a loud thumping noise from beyond the wall startled them both to their feet.
"Bellamy?" she whispered. His face whipped her way, aware of the tone of her voice. She looked frightened. Pain shot through his chest at the sight of her.
"Clarke, stay back." He warned her. She obliged and took a few steps back. The sound returned, closer this time. Bellamy looked around for a gun, but could find none. The noise echoed closer, and this time the whole Wall lurched forward with it.
"Bellamy?!" Clarke yelled. He stumbled back away from the Wall, reaching for her hand. But he couldn't find it. He turned around, expecting to see Clarke. The empty space in front of him made his breath hitch.
"CLARKE?" he yelled out into the night, spinning around.
"Bellamy…" he heard her whisper.
The Wall lurched forward again. And again.
"Clarke?! Clarke, where are you?" he called out. The Wall was giving way, it was about to break. The loud thumping continued.
"CLARKE?!" he roared, feeling his throat close up and claustrophobia creep in. But there was no response.
The Wall gave way and a foreign darkness swept over the camp, leaving Bellamy screaming her name.
I'd like to apologize in advance for if I take a while to update the next chapter - exam time and such. Thank you so much again for following and reviewing, I love you guys xx
