A/N: *Crawls from deep dark cave, gnarled and bashful* hey peeps! Remember this story from 2014? Because I sure didn't. Anyways, now that season 5 has come out and the unresolved Bellarke tension is still eating away at our wills to live, I figured I'd continue this little ditty here. Sorry if it dissapoints, I'm still trying to recreate this headspace I was in when I was watching this all for the first time. Sorry for the wait my Lovelies!

It felt like eons, the way the silence stretched out between us. He had his honey brown eyes fixated on my face, searching for answers I didn't have. With a huffed sigh I straightened my spine, alluding to a much more put together version of myself.

"Bellamy," I mumbled curtly, hating the slightly breathy quality it took on of its own accord.

"Clarke."

"Need something," I queried, urging my tone into as nonchalant a sound I could. He snorted, shaking the beautiful shaggy locks on his head side to side.

"I want to know why you've been hiding in this damn tin can. We sorta need you out there, Princess."

And what could I say? That I couldn't face the stares? That seeing Raven and Finn killed me, and that running into Bellamy was nearly as gutwrenching as the glares from his harem? Spacewalker may be a prick, but he was right about one thing; I was definitely not first in a grand number of girls who had been had by Bellamy Blake. What's worse is that I hadn't even waited an entire day after losing Finn to jump into bed with somebody else. How could I face the world when I couldn't even face myself?

"I've been busy, pummeling seaweed and.. such." I shrugged, though an excuse had never sounded so pathetic.

"Yeah? Well so have I," he spat. "Running this whole freakin camp, remember?"

And if looks could kill, I'd have met my end right there in the shuttle, crushed under the heavy weight behind his gaze. I heaved a sigh, defeat plastered thick on my lead bones. "What do you want me to say?" I threw my arms up wide in frustration.

"I want you to talk to me," he pleaded in his low, gruff voice. And God, I wished I could. But I'd already been burned to a crisp, and if he thought he deserved to be under my skin and in my head he could float himself. It had been days, and it's not like he'd come knocking for a chat either, until now. Maybe I was just another number in the dust below his tent.

"I just can't, Bellamy," I whispered. "Okay?" All the bravado seemed to melt from his shoulders as he closed the distance between us in a few strides.

"You've got to," he murmured gently, a smile creeping over his lips. "How else am I supposed to keep these idiots in line without your Royal Highness?"

I barked out a laugh. It was as good as him admitting he needed me, and my hearththrummed lightly behind my ribs for the first time in what felt like ages. He drew me tight into his chest, wrapping his warmth and strength around me. For just a minute none of it mattered; not my mother's betrayal, or Finn's. Not the ninety-something kids we were suddenly left in charge of, or the ticking clock on the three hundred lives that would be ended on the Ark if Raven couldn't fix that damn radio. For a split second, it was the furthest thing from my mind. But yet, as I leaned up on my tippy-toes to press my lips to his, it all seemed to come crashing back down tenfold.

"You ever feel like the weight of the world is literally on your shoulders?" I groaned, resting my forehead on his chest.

"All the time," he whispered, his tone far off and wistful. The world slipped away, our existence stripping down to his arms on my back and my breath soaking through the fabric over his heart. "You said you were mine and then you left me alone."

The tangible longing in his hushed, barely audible plea whiddled it's way through my veins, clawing guiltily at my heartstrings. I'd been so caught up in my own head that I hadn't even thought about the good things to come from the horror show. It was a good thing... Right?

My lips parted, but the apologies were swallowed by the clanging of boots on the ladder. A frazzled Jasper poked up, panic so clear in his eyes I could almost hear his frantic pulse.

"Have you guys seen Octavia?" The words tumbled from his mouth in a rush, and Bellamy pulled away with a frown.

"You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her," his tone was cold and accusing. I read the tension in his brow like an old novel, remembering how harsh she'd been on him since he destroyed the radio. Finding out he'd shot the Chancellor was something she still hadn't forgiven him for, even though Jaha had survived it, and his intentions were born of love for his sister.

"Have you searched the whole camp," I interjected; it would do nobody any good, especially not Octavia, to play the blame game right now. Jasper nodded earnestly, tears burning hot behind his pupils. "She's probably just wandering in the woods. Gather a search party, Bellamy's orders."

He jumped back down the hatch, picking delinquents who knew the area best. I grabbed Bellamy by the hand, giving a firm squeeze for reassurance.

"Hey," I said, patting his shoulder. "We'll find her."

And as we made our way out of camp, leading side by side, I pretended not to notice the judging, slack jaws of a hundred gawking teenagers.