Hi guys!I'm still French, but this time it's "WinterViolets" (She's great) who corrected my mystakes. Hope you like it!
"You will never wear a shirt, will you?
It had been three weeks that Clarke was coming to switch his bandages, morning and night, and yet he was always shirtless. At one point, she even wondered if he watched her to know when he should take his shirt off, or if this wasn't just a series of coincidences. At the sound of Clarke's voice, he turned around and looked at her.
"What's a shirt?" Answered Bellamy, his eyes amused while the edges of his lips twisted into a tiny smile.
Clarke waited until Bellamy looked away from her, then she put her first-aid kit in front of his bunk. She removed the same jacket that she had always worn since the 100 arrived on the Earth and she found herself wearing a sleeveless top. The tents were much warmer then the temperature from the outside and as she had insisted that Bellamy's tent was heated by several degrees, moreover because of his convalescence period, she tried to dress in an appropriate way.
As he seemed still occupied, Clarke glanced at his torso which was muscled and tanned. No shirt? She could live with that.
She heard Bellamy chuckle and she stopped looking at the fine and sharp lines of his torso, red covering her face in embarrassment.
"Wanna share your thoughts, princess?" He asked, teasing her.
Clarke swallowed with difficulty. She couldn't deny that Bellamy had an important panel of assets -six to be exact- but she would die before she admitted it out loud.
"I was just wondering where your bandages are" noticed Clarke, proud to not give him reason.
If his ego was already sufficiently inflated to the point that he exhibited his body all over the place, she couldn't imagine the next step.
"Where are your bandages, Bellamy? Asked Clarke again, more curious than worried.
It has been days that his wound was almost healed, but she didn't want to take the risk that the injury got infected because of her neglect. Moreover, wrapping up Bellamy's torso with bandages gave her a sense of power. She felt like he depended on her, and it was incredibly good to know that she controlled the game. Well, that and touch him without giving any reason except "I need to change your bandages".
"I removed them..."He answered absent-mindedly.
Immediately, Clarke froze, an expression of incomprehension etched in her face.
-What? Why?
She didn't want that somebody else, or Bellamy, pull out his bandages. It was her thing!
He inclined his head, his way of saying " Really?", before he moved closer towards her, suppressing the distance between them in one step, until their noses come into contact and the heart of Clarke beat frantically.
"Clarke. We both know that I didn't need them anymore."
His warm breath crushed into her skin, still cold because of the low temperatures outside. He was right and Clarke knew it. He didn't need it, but she couldn't admit that she had wasted some medical supplies. And for what? To stop feeling guilty when she touched his olive skin because with the bandages, it seemed more medical.
"I didn't know that you had medical skill" says Clarke with surprise while she crossed her arms on her breast.
She wasn't going to take the risk that he realized her interest for his abs, still well-designed after three weeks of physical inactivity.
He arched an eyebrow in front of Clarke's effrontery. God, she was stubborn!
"Clarke..." He murmured, forcing her to uncross her arms so he could have access to her hands.
He rolled his calloused finger around her wrist and he stuck the palm of her hand on his scar.
"See? No need to worry about nothing."
Clarke hardly heard him. While she traced the scars with her index finger, she realized that his skin was rough but pleasant to the touch. Why did having him so close to her and covered with scars excited her so much? She could hear the constant and repetitive pounding of Bellamy's heart and she wondered if he always beat so fast. Clarke shook her head to chase the disturbed thoughts that made her confused.
"That didn't prove anything, Bellamy. When somebody is suffering from an internal haemorrhage, no-one can detect it with the naked eye until it's too late" She argued, regretting the choice of the example. Bellamy wasn't dying and she didn't want to frighten him.
Fortunately, her little speech seemed to be boring him more than frightening him.
He sighed out loud, then he released her wrist, even if the arm of Clarke remained at his place.
"Alright, Princess. Name me one single thing I can't do, and I will go back to my bed. One single thing."
Bellamy wasn't an idiot. He knew that nobody at the camp would let him carry a gun until Clarke gave her approval, as she was his doctor. He could still ask Abygail, but she didn't seem to like him, and honestly, he preferred Clarke's company to the awards silences or the military discussions they had together.
He observed Clarke frown; she was thinking.
"Raise a mass of fifteen pounds for a minute without showing the least sign of fatigue, and I will believe you."
"No problem" He retorted in a whisper, too sure of himself for Clarke.
He grabbed her by the hips, and he involuntary made her sleeveless top ascend of a few centimeters, revealing her navel, her pale skin and the chills that covered it. He tried to not dwell on the details more than necessary, but it has been weeks since he had seen a girl without the half of her shirt.
"Do you realize how stupid it is?"
When she had told him to raised a mass, she thought more a scrap of metal, not her.
"You didn't work out for three weeks and you might have a muscle contraction if..."
"It's cute that you think I am one of the teenagers to who you can give an order."
What was that supposed to mean?
Her breath cut off when she felt Bellamy's hands more tighten against her hips, few seconds before he raised her in the air, as if she was as light as a feather.
"Put me down! Bellamy!"Protested Clarke.
It wasn't that being carried by Bellamy wasn't nice, but if he broke an ankle, or crumpled a muscle, after all the work she had to do on him, she won't help him.
"Fifty seconds left..." he said while he tried to keep her balance, but she didn't help him.
"Why are you so stupid?" whinged Clarke
Bellamy felt a weakness in his left arm and he let her fall of several centimeters before recovering his strength and attracting her towards him, breathless. Carrying her at arm's length wasn't his best idea, but he wouldn't look weak in front of her, so he acted like it was nothing.
Clarke wrapped her arms around Bellamy's neck, hanging on to it as if it was her safety net.
"If I'm getting hurt..."She started, her voice full of undertone.
She couldn't even think about it. There were only two doctors in the camp and she was one of them.
"That won't happen. Not with me." He affirmed, offended.
"Fine" Concluded Clarke, relieved to know that her mother wasn't the only one who protected her. "Now put me on the floor" she insisted once more.
Did he hear her? His lack of responsiveness made her doubt it. She felt that Bellamy had difficulties, so she decided to do what she could for helped him, after all he seemed pretty determined to show her his strength. She wrapped her thighs around his pelvis, which would permit him to use the force of his back for carrying her. Without realizing it, Bellamy tightened their embrace and stuck his torso against her breast. The sexual tension that had always been between them seemed to the reach the limit between the signs and the words. At least, that was what he thought before Clarke started again with her advices.
"You can't ask to your body to overwork like that, Bellamy. You have to give it the time to re-adapt to everyday steps, or..."
It had been one minute, he mentally noticed, so, before Clarke could continue her little speech, he bent over towards his bunk.
"What are you doing? Bellamy!" She screamed while she grabbed his neck and the back of his hair, pulling herself closer to him than ever before.
"It's alright, Clarke, stop yelling so loudly. You wouldn't want that the totality of the camp to come here."
She stopped protesting against him, asking herself how her mother would feel if she saw her in that very particular position. She felt something sweet and soft touching her back and she immediately understood that Bellamy tried to lay her down on his bunk. She detached from him, seeing his muscles sweating because of the important effort. She let her hand fall to the sides of her body, then she did the same thing with her legs, trying to not blush when she realized that Bellamy was on all fours on top of her, but he didn't get up instantly as he was out of breath.
Once again, Clarke couldn't stop to think about what people would say if she saw them like that.
None of them moved during several seconds, until Bellamy asked the question who was burning his lips.
"So, can I have my gun back?"
Clarke smiled and sighed at the same time. What would he do without his favorite toy?
Clarke got up, forcing Bellamy to do the same, she took her jacket and her first-aid kit, then she faced him.
"No" decided Clarke categorically.
"Why?" He finally asked while she was close to the door.
She turned around towards him with a shy smile.
"We both know that carrying a weapon all day, it's more than tiring." Started Clarke. "When you would be able to use the totality of your physical capacities, you could have your gun back."
"And who will decide of the right time?" He objected.
"Me"
On those words, Clarke left the tent before she let him a chance of reply.
After all, she didn't need to change his bandages, for he needed her.
My French readers wanted more, so they will be an additional chapter. :D