Hi there, just wanted to say that this chapter's written from Bellamy's point of view as it could be confusing. Enjoy!


I stare at Clarke with such a shocked expression, she probably thinks I got a heart attack.

Well, actually I'm not positive if I surely didn't.

'Clarke, I... Yes', I utter as my mind flashes me a vivid memory of meeting her a couple of nights ago. I won't make that mistake again, especially since she looks as if she'd just witnessed her life fall apart.

I back off to let her in and close the door. She's wet and shaking probably form the awful cold outside, but God knows what she's been through to get to this state.

She stubbornly gazes at the floor and refuses to raise her eyes. I notice that she's gripping her elbow tightly with her other hand and scratches it furiously.

'I'll... make you a tea. I just need to know how much sugar to put in it', I say a bit uncertainly after a moment of awkward silence, a smile breaking my frown. Her face erupts into a blossoming smile, but she wipes her cheek off as if to get rid of the invisible traces of tears.

'I don't sugar', she says, her voice strangely unstable and even though it's such a trivial thing, she seems to attach some sort of importance to it, as if not adding sugar to a tea made her crazy or weird. Or was somewhat funny. In a very tragic way, looking at her broken expression. It's such a grotesque situation, I run my fingers through my hair and grunt quietly.

'Just take off your jacket, you're going to flood my entire house', I sigh with an exaggerated irritation and her face is lit with a shy smile.

'You know what? It's better that you don't sugar it, I don't even have sugar', I snort amused as I search through the kitchen shelves. I should've told O to buy some since she spends so much time outside lately.

I snort internally at my sister's adventures. She's so infatuated with Lincoln, asking her to buy some sugar seems like a damn profanation. Even her own brother's useless at this point.

'I don't even have any lemon... Allright, you know what, I'll just make you a mint tea', I chuckle and frown immediately after, realizing that I got no response whatsoever.

I leave the cup on the kitchen counter and enter the hallway.

'Clarke...?', I glance at the living room. I've been gone for around ten seconds and she's already found the most awkward thing there is in this house at the moment.

A wooden table. With a white tablecloth and a porcelain tableware. Red roses in a vase add a trashy charm to it and two newly bought candles serve as an emergency in case there was no light.

Just kidding. They're supposed to make it all more romantic and climatic. At least that was what my light-hearted sibling had assumed in her truly touching vision of a romantic dinner.

Clarke looks at it all stunned and I wonder what she thinks of me right now and I smirk.

'I didn't know you're busy tonight... I'm sorry, I... I'll go now', she stutters and a smile leaves my face, a surprised expression appearing faster than my senses.

She's already in the hallway, grabbing her jacket with her hands shaking so uncontrollably it almost escapes her grip. A moment has to pass for me to regain my composure and my brain.

'Are you kidding me? Clarke...', I smile a bit too softly for a girl who keeps challenging me, but I can't help it. She sighs and raises her head to glance at me, this time with a sudden rush of bravado.

'Look, I don't want to interrupt your night with my senseless appearance, which truth be told, is completely out of place. I know I act frantically and quite frankly, I think you might just kick me out for freaking out, but I thought you could, I don't know, fucking not let me down again or something', she spits bitterly and it leaves me astounded for a moment.

She frowns with a resigned expression written on her face and turns around.

'Wait', I sigh and grab her forearm.

'I don't want to be the girl that knocks on the door at ten thrity p.m.', she says quietly and it somewhat makes me amused and bothered at the same time.

'Then don't knock and just open the door. I'm not waiting for anyone if that's what you assumed. It's O's stupid idea, she wanted to invite Lincoln, but then decided that it was too cheap, so they went to some strip club or worse, probably', I explain with an annoyed snort.

'Lincoln's changed', she says almost defensively and I smirk. I won't let her change the subject, when she's a wreck herself.

'Just come inside. I've already made you a mint tea, which I can't stand, so you'll have to drink it instead', I reply and grip her arms with both of my hands as if to comfrot her, but she gazes at the floor, hopelessly.

'I hate mint tea too', she utters and it makes me laugh. Before I have a chance to think about it, I wrap my arms around her, one of my hands resting on the back of her head. She doesn't stiffen or tighten. She doesn't return the hug either.

'You'll have to find a way to deal with it', I whisper playfully in her hair and back away.

'If I must', she shrugs nonchalantly and sniffs.

11:40 p.m.

I watch her as she sits comfortably in a chair in my living room with a cup of tea between her tremblig hands. Her legs are tucked up to her chest, the cup resting on her knees. She looks pretty cute with this, unlike her usual cold and unreachable demeanor, it surprisingly suits her. Or actually, she would look pretty cute... if it wasn't for her quivering hands and raspy voice and exhaustion deep in her eyes as if they were about to look this fatigued forever.

'You should consider drinking this tea, you know. It probably got cold already', I snort as I notice her fingertips going white from gripping it too tightly. I sit opposite her, so it's hard to avoid staring at her, not that I try too much to do so.

She eventually looks back which sort of leaves me uneasy. Her glare is piercing and I'm not sure whether she stares at me with such an intensity or she's just lost in her thoughts.

'I hate mint tea', she just says, but, nevertheless, takes a sip.

'So are you going to tell me what the hell were you doing in front of the doors of my house at ten p.m., drunk and completely worn out? Or should I wait for some enlightenment to answer my questions? I don't read minds', I mock her, a bit too harshly. I'm not trying to get her out of the house, but as much as I know about her, my taunt will annoy her to the point where she tells me what on Earth is going on. At least that's what I'm counting on.

'Do you think I'm frantic?', she blurts out after a while of silence. Quite frankly, I'm surprised she asked me such a question. I expected her to fall for the taunt, to react and retaliate. She doesn't.

'No', I only reply and she laughs. I freeze. It's not a cheery, humorous laughter. It's harsh, mocking and sharp.

'No?', she repeats in a raspy manner, her breathing heavy and shallow as if it took a lot of effort for her to utter this one word, one syllabe.

I look at her incredulously as she gets up, a strange expression on her face. She throws the cup at the wall behind me. I don't bend my head, I don't even have time to do it, but the mug flies about a feet higher than my hair. I hear it crush behind me and I shiver. I'm quickly on my feet, but it doesn't make much of a difference.

'No...? How about that?', she asks, her voice louder this time. There's some sort of madness within her, but I don't fall for this trick, something must've happened for her to pull off this supposedly crazy demeanor.

'No', I say, but my voice trembles a bit. She grins in a humourless manner. My muscles tighten as I watch her turn the coffee table over with full force of her vigorous arms. The glass shatters and hundres of little pieces get stuck in the red hairy carpet.

'Tell me, am I frantic?', she asks, this time her voice balancing between amusement and anger.

'No', I say, but my jaw is clenched tightly. I wait for her to burn the entire house down, but she smiles mischievously, almost recklessly and I freeze as I notice a piece of broken glass in her hand.

I want to scream it in her face, I want to ask her and yell Are you fucking crazy? But it's not what I mean and I know exactly that she wants it. It's all a game, but a very convincing one, I wonder if she's truly gone mad.

'Clarke, stop', I say in a low tone taking a step forward. I have my shoes on so the glass crushes underneath my feet.

'It's all fun and games', she utters quietly and it makes me wonder.

'This isn't fun and games. Stop it', I say, but before she has a chance to reply, I take the glass out of her hand, but I do it too rapidly, my moves are controlled by panic and anger. I hiss and the piece of glass escapes my hand with red stains all over it.

Her eyes widen at the sight of the cut inner side of my hand.

'I'm so sorry', she says taking it into her own hands and examining carefully, but I don't even feel the pain due to the rush of adrenaline flowing hastily in my veins.

'You're not crazy, got it? I wish you knew me, Clarke, I wish you knew what kind of man I am, but you...? You? You're not crazy', I say softly and it almost makes me smile, the ridiculousness of this situation. I take her face in my hands and cup her cheeks.

'What kind of man are you?', is all she asks. Her eyes are a bit glassy and I avert mine, I react too emotionally to the other person crying. Especially when this person's Clarke.

'I could show you, Clarke', it's a wrong thing to say as I watch her eyes light up with an unstoppable curiosity.

'Good. 'Cause I can't stand this mint smell any longer', she replies edgily and I take my hands off her face. My right hand leaves a red stain on her left cheek and I almost gape at the view before I realize it's my own blood.

'You're going to paint this wall', I say amused, glancing at the tea stains all over it as I leave the living room. She grunts uncomfortably, so I turn around and stretch my hand in her direction.

'The sun is shining on it as the daylight fades, so I'll use pale yellows or oranges', she replies quietly and takes my hand.

'I was just kidding, Clarke', I say averting my eyes as she grabs her jacket. She doesn't reply, which bothers me. I really don't want her to paint the damn wall, but I guess joking isn't the greatest idea around her tonight.

'Put it on, idiot. It's raining', I snort as she steps outside. I don't know what is it with me, but I can't stop myself from harsh, snarky comments as I look at her. I'm not used to her acting so recklessly, she doesn't even see that she could hurt herself. And I do.

'So what? I'm not made of sugar', she says playfully, standing opposite me, rain soaking her hair and clothes.

I step out in the rain and close the front door.

'It's about an hour of walking. But do as you wish', I shrug nonchalantly and leave her behind.

'Did you cast a spell on the night sky?', she asks almost joyfully as she catches up and I find her by my side. I glance at her, but her eyes are up, observing the stars. There's something captivating about this sight and I have to avert my eyes or I'd get lost, just looking at her.

'What do you mean?', I say dryly. I've never been a fan of this sort of so-called romantic staring, since I can't see anything beautiful in the night sky. It's just loads of stars and a moon.

I do see some beauty in the way she gazes at it as if it was a miracle, but I can't see it the way she does even though I wish I could.

'I mean... it stopped raining', she replies hesitantly after a while of silence. I guess she just needed a while to utter anything, since it's the night sky that cast a spell on her.

'You should watch your feet', I only say, but a smile appears on my face.

I could defnitely cast a spell on the night sky if she asked me to do so.

1:06 a.m.

'We're almost there', I inform her as we find ourselves in the middle of nowhere. We keep walking for another fifteen minutes before we reach our destination. There's a sunflower field on one side of our path and a huge area of forest on the other side.

She's been quiet for the majority of our trip, I could tell that she stopped herself from asking about the destination of our walk a couple of times. The only conversation in a span of an hour was when she said she feels as if we reached a different world. It was on the border of the town where there's nothing around but infinite grassland. Because we did, was all that I replied.

'Will you finally tell me where we're going?', she says and it makes me smirk.

'Do your feet hurt or are you just bored?', I ask playfully.

'My feet are fine. I'm just tired of wading through the darkness', she replies dryly.

'We're here', I say after a moment of silence and glance at her.

'Here? Meaning where, exactly?', she asks, her voice irritated and curious at the same time. She looks pretty unimpressed, which makes me genuinely glad.

'You'll see', I only say.

She turns around to embrace the sunflower field with her blue eyes, the colour of pure ocean water on a stormy day.

I take a few steps and enter the woods, which are so dark, I almost trip.

'Clarke!', I shout excessively loudly and grin. It's suddenly light all around me and I hear an annoyed voice from the distance.

'I'm right here, you idiot, why are you shouting...', her voice trails off, so her question doesn't even sound quizzically, but she doesn't seem to care as she freezes in awe.

She stands next to me and looks around trying to comprehend the view.

'Your name lights up the forest', I say and an incredulous smile appears on her face.

'Fireflies...?', she asks and takes a few steps forward, but I just stand still gazing at her.

The woods are illuminated by the lights of a thousand little fireflies hidden safely on the leaves or hovering up in the air.

Some of them surround Clarke as she stands in the middle of a small clearing and she reaches her hands out, laughing.

'And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it*', I say as it's the only thing that comes to my mind as I stare at the blonde girl illuminated by the light of the pure nature.

'It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal*', she says and it surprises me that she knows all the Bible references I throw around and even adds her own. It makes me wonder if she's religious or just possesses such a knowledge.

She looks up to meet my gaze and smiles widely.

'My friend used to cite Bible references all the time', she shrugs as if she read my thoughts. There is some sort of melancholy and hollow joy to this statement though. I shake my head in disbelief and approach her with a smile, but the fireflies fly away from her.

'Your name and only your name illuminates the woods', I laugh, but she shakes her head with a mysterious smile.

'Yours would do that too. If only they knew it', she says playfully and I catch the double meaning in her statement.

If only she knew it.

2:00 a.m.

'Don't tell me that we're coming back the same way', she says and rolls her eyes as we leave the forest.

'I won't', I smile and turn in the other direction. She's stunned for a while, then follows me quietly, until she cannot resist asking a question.

'Where are we going?', she demands and I hear no exhaustion in her voice. No wonder though, since she always goes to sleep so late on her crazy daily basis.

'We're going home. Just by a different mean of transport', I reply and she sighs exasperatedly.

'I think I'm gonna die before we get there', she says and I smile widely at the statement.

'Shouldn't have come with me', is my only answer, but said in a playful manner.

'I have nowhere to go anyway', she says really quietly, but I hear it anyway amidst the defeaning silence of the night.

'At least you sobered up before you could do anything stupid', I mock her after a while of reflection.

'About that back in your house... I'm really sorry, I was drunk and unstable...', her voice trembles a bit as she proceeds to utter the word unstable. I guess she must've had some tough experiences proving someone her sanity. Or she failed to do so.

'Don't. Don't apologize, it's nothing. I'm actually pretty glad you came. I have one more thing to show you', I smile and stop.

There are railroad tracks a few metres ahead of me.

'There's a train here?', Clarke gapes.

'Yeah, it exists only to drop some goods around the town, including stuff for dealers and smugglers, but no worries, there's only a driver inside and no one ever comes in', I explain.

'So you've been here before', she concludes and I nod.

'I went here once with Octavia and a couple of times on my own. I was scared that they'd catch us so I didn't want to bring her, but I've never met anyone inside. I suppose she went here on her own a few times though', I smile as my sister's the only person I know as reckless as me. And one day she'll give me a heart attack.

'But... it'll just stop to take us?', she looks at me suspiciously as I hear the sound of an approaching train from the distance.

'No... that's the best part about it', I grin, but she glances at me quizzically.

I don't have time to explain her what this part is exactly about as I notice the vehicle coming even closer.

'Once it's here, you've got to start chasing it', I yell to outscream the noise of the train.

'And then what?', she shouts as I start running.

'Jump!', I scream and grip the pipe on the outside of the vehicle. There's an entrance right next to it, so I pull my legs up and jump inside. I catch my balance and turn around as I notice Clarke running next to the train. I lean and reach out my hand for her to grab, which she does. She jumps and I pull her inside, almost losing my balance.

'Oh my god', she breathes heavily sitting down, bending her knee and resting her forearm on it. Before I have a chance to say anything, she bursts into a breathless laughter.

'How was it?', I ask her taking a seat on the floor, opposite her. She leans her forehead on the outer side of her hand and takes a breath to calm down.

'It was... amazing. I felt the wind and the rush and... thank you for pulling me in', her expression turns into a wide grin.

'Next time you'll be able to do it on your own', I say and she leans her head on the metal construction behind her.

'Yeah, definitely', she replies and I wonder when she'll come back here.

'It's still dark, but you'll see the sunrise from here and it'll be amazing', I say and she smiles.

'Until then, I'm going to sleep. I need to see this beauty', she announces and I notice a spark in her eyes, she looks very much alive and free and I hope she feels this way too. Her cheeks are pink, her hair tangled and she truly looks happy.

'I'll wake you up once the skies are pale', I reassure her and she nods.

'Counting on it. Morpheus can be very possessive', she yawns and laughs.

'He won't resist the beautiful Aphrodite', I reply with a lazy smile. I'm quite tired too.

'I'm not Aphrodite', she replies automatically with certain irritation and freezes immediately after.

'What?', I ask mindlessly, my brain doesn't want to cooperate with me anymore.

'What?', she looks at me with shock written all over her face and understaning dawns on me.

I only wish I could tell I am just as surprised as she is.


*And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it- is a Bible reference (Revelation 21:23)

* It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal- is also a Bible reference (Revelation 21:11)

Firstly, I'm really sorry for this late update, life's been crazy lately. Almost as crazy as Clarke in this chapter. I've been thinking about this chapter for a long time, since I wanted it to be special, so I decided to be more creative (than I usually am) and write it from Bellamy's perspective. There's a lot of stuff going on and it's because I wanted to present as many things from his point of view as possible (because this sort of chapters won't happen often).

Clarke's very... interesting in this chapter, I realize, but that's what it is, her life's not fun and games and I really meant to show how messed up and exhausted she felt. (She hasn't gone mad though, no worries.)

PS: Songs that really inspired me to write it were What Kind Of Man by Florence + The Machine and Run Away by Leighton Meester.

Just thought it'd help you understand this chapter better, knowing what was the inspiration to create it.

PS2: I hope you liked Bellamy as in his perspective aaand let me know what you think of this chapter!