Prompt from anon on tumblr: "Are you sure you're not cold" canonverse?

Additional tags: S1, canonverse, fluff,

Watching the sunrise on the ground wasn't something Clarke got to do often. She usually ended up working late into the night in her makeshift med bay inside the dropship, meaning she usually slept into the late morning.

But today was different. She sat at one of the makeshift platforms on the East-facing wall of the dropship and pulled her jacket around her tighter. The heat of the late summer in which they landed had dissipated, giving rise to a very chilly autumn, and what was making out to be an even colder winter.

After Raven got the radios working, the council insisted on sending them weather reports so they could prepare for the worst the elements had to offer. Clarke was sceptical at first, the meteorology part of the Ark had been out of use for over fifty years, but they provided useful information about any storms that might be headed their way.

One thing they failed to predict, though, was the heavy snow that had landed pretty much overnight. Clarke realised she should have seen it coming, the temperature had been slowly dropping for weeks and the rain had been getting heavier. Still, when she stepped out of her tent on that first day and into almost eight inches of snow, she thought she'd been dreaming.

When she realised she wasn't, reality kicked in. A lot of the other kids had taken to messing about in the snow, revelling in the new environment. But soon enough, they'd started to get sick. It started off as sneezing and fuzzy heads, but soon enough there was a flu spreading around camp and Clarke cursed the snow and the cold weather.

It didn't let up, though. The flu spread quickly and the quarantine she'd made failed. Miraculously, they only lost two of the hundred to the cold, but they still had half of winter to come.

The sky changed colour first, from a blue black to a light blue, and Clarke felt herself relax. The clouds that had hung over camp for the last few weeks were still present, but in the lighting of dawn, they had a pink underglow. Underneath the large clouds, Clarke could see a strip of blue and soon enough, the first rays of sunlight were shining over the mountain peaks. Clarke let herself take in the view and (not for the first time) wished she had something to paint with so she could capture it. Clarke thought back to the moonrisings that she'd seen on the Ark over the years; they were all beautiful, but none of them could compare to this.

"You shouldn't be out here alone." Came a familiar voice. Clarke was pulled from her thoughts. She turned to face the direction of Bellamy's voice and found him standing at the bottom of the ladder to her right. She gave him a pointed look.

"God, Bellamy. You're such a killjoy," she teased. He climbed the ladder to come to stand next to her.

"I mean it," he replied sternly. He wasn't looking at her, he was watching the sunrise and Clarke felt herself smile. Even Bellamy couldn't deny the beauty of the sunrise.

She watched as the low winter sunlight hit his face, making the freckles stand out. She noticed the way the light made his usually dark brown eyes come to life, when the light hit them, they became a deep warm brown with flecks of lighter brown in. She wondered how she would capture the sunlight reflected in his dark curls if she were to draw him. The thought shook her and she came to a stop.

Where the hell did that come from? She thought and quickly snapped her gaze back to the sunrise, her cheeks heating up slightly.

"Jaha says there's a bunker not far from here," she said to break the silence. She hoped her voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bellamy turn his head towards her but she kept on facing forwards, not trusting her mind not to wander.

"It has, uh, blankets and stuff," she managed, focussing intently on the treeline.

"Blankets and stuff?" He asked and she could almost hear the smirk in his voice. She turned her attention to him.

"Yes. Things to get us through winter." Her voice sounded slightly more strained than she wanted it to, but Bellamy nodded anyway.

"I'll get my pack," he replied. Clarke nodded and the two of them make their way to their tents to gather their things.

"You ready?" Bellamy asked as they met back at the firepit. Or where the firepit used to be, it was still covered in snow from the previous night.

"Yeah," Clarke replied, pulling her pack over her shoulders.

"You sure you don't want a warmer jacket? It might snow again," Bellamy said and Clarke rolled her eyes.

"No, mom, I'm fine, let's go." She turned to walk towards the north gate and she heard the crunch in the snow, meaning Bellamy was following.

"Where did Jaha say this bunker was?" Bellamy asked. Clarke looked down at the map again and frowned.

"About twenty miles north," she said with a grimace. At this rate, they'd make it to the bunker for nightfall, since the days were getting shorter. Bellamy groaned in exasperation and she couldn't help but agree with him.

The air around them got colder as they carried on walking and Clarke regretted not bringing some kind of jacket – not that she'd admit that to Bellamy (he'd never let her live it down). She pulled her arms closer around her, trying to shield her torso form the cold, but the snow under her feet was too slippy, and she ended up keeping her arms out for balance.

Bellamy was unusually quiet as they walked – he kept his hand hovered over the handgun tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Her and Bellamy had come a long way since they'd landed. Clarke liked to think of them as co-leaders of the hundred. Clarke liked to think she kept a level head and strived for diplomacy, while Bellamy inspired the kids to get work done when it needed to be.

After the meeting with Anya had gone sour, everyone had been on edge; constantly looking out for grounders in the trees, trying to keep quiet, and the hunting parties had stopped going out unless it was completely necessary. Leaving camp was dangerous, they'd all agreed, but the bunker had supplies, or so Jaha had said. This trip was necessary, she told herself, and they both had guns so they'd be fine.

That didn't stop her worrying, though.

Bellamy came to a stop at the top of the slope they'd been climbing. The last few steps seemed to take Clarke a lifetime, her calves felt like they were on fire and every time she moved her feet would squelch and slip in the mixture of snow and mud. Bellamy didn't turn around and just stood facing away from her. She huffed as she dragged her feet, flinging her arms out to stop from slipping.

Finally, she made it to the top of the slope and came to a stop next to Bellamy. She opened her mouth to make a quip about him being unhelpful but stopped dead. All around them was blinding white. There were trees off in the distance with a dusting of white, but the immediate land in front of them was flat and covered in untouched snow.

Clarke felt herself smile, this place was beautiful. Like everything she'd ever dreamed the ground would be. She watched as wildlife jumped though the treeline across the field and –

She felt a cold and wet slap on the side of her face. Clarke whirled to the left only to see Bellamy trying not to laugh.

"What the fuck?" She asked as she wiped snow off her cheek.

"Never heard of a snowball fight, Princess?" He teased. Clarke frowned, they didn't have time for this. She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when she saw Bellamy bending down to pick up more snow.

"Bellamy, don't," she warned, holding a hand out in front of her as she started to step away from him towards the open field. Bellamy stood up, cupping the snow between his hands and Clarke felt her eyes widen in horror. He smirked as he slowly made his way towards her.

She watched as his arm went backwards and she tried to duck when the snowball came hurtling towards her. It hit her shoulder.

"Bellamy!" She exclaimed as she felt the wet patch on her T shirt spread.

Fuck it, she thought when she saw his smirk. She reached down and plunged her hands into the freezing snow. Ignoring her reflex to pull them out, she started to gather the white powder in her hands and formed a small snowball.

Using her left hand, she aimed as best she could and watched in glee as the snowball flew across the space between them. Bellamy tried to dodge but he was too late, the snowball hit him across the face and Clarke laughed at the surprised look on his face.

"Oh, you're on, Princess," he said and Clarke grinned in response, already reaching down to get another snowball ready.

Sometime later, they were stood in the middle of the field, each with a snowball in hand facing each other. Their cheeks were flushed from running around and laughing and both their hair was wet from being unable to dodge some of the other's throws. Bellamy edged towards her quickly and she stepped backwards, just out of arm's reach. She watched as Bellamy's arm flinched but he didn't throw the snow at her.

Before she could react, he darted forwards. She stepped backwards but he was still moving forwards, his arms came around her middle and soon enough she was falling into the snow.

Her feet went from under her as he tackled her around the middle. She saw the treeline go past her and felt the cold cushion of the snow under her.

"Bellamy!" She wheezed, winded after the tackle. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at her, laughing.

She tried to be mad, but his smile was contagious. She laughed along with him, allowing herself to just be a kid for once. Out here, in the snow, she wasn't a leader or a medic, she was just a girl out with a boy having a snowball fight.

Slowly their laughter died down, but Bellamy was still hovering over her. His face was red with the cold, making his freckles stand out again. His dark hair was curling around his face where it had gotten wet. She slowly reached up and brushed a curl off his forehead.

She dropped her hand, suddenly nervous. Bellamy was staring at her intently, his eyes boring into hers.

"Are you cold?" He asked. His breath came out in warm puffs around them, and they were so close that she felt it fan across her cheeks. She thought about it for a moment. Sure, she was wet, and she'd probably catch a cold, but in that moment, she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I'm fine," she told him. He raised an eyebrow but didn't press it further.

Before Clarke could think better of it, she brought her hand up to the back on his neck and pulled his face down to hers, bringing his lips over hers.

Bellamy was still and Clarke started to pull away, clearly, she'd misread the situation. Clarke opened her mouth to apologise but before she could, Bellamy was leaning down and recapturing her lips. His nose was cold on her cheek, but his mouth was warm and Clarke felt herself smiling into the kiss, winding her fingers into his damp curls. Bellamy sighed and Clarke felt content.

When he broke the kiss, he didn't go far, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Are you sure you're not cold?" He asked and Clarke bit her lip. The snow around them had melted a little, making all her back wet. If she stayed longer she'd regret it.

"Maybe a little," she told him and he smirked.

"Come on," he replied, climbing off her. Clarke pouted at the loss of heat, but made to sit up as well.

Bellamy held out his hand for her and she took it, allowing him to help her up.

"Let's find that bunker," he said as he pulled her up. He didn't drop her hand as they walked towards the trees and Clarke felt herself smile as their hike continued.

It took less than two days for her to catch a cold, her sneezes causing Bellamy to wake up beside her. He groaned and fell back into the furs and blankets of their bed.

"For the record," he said as she continued to sneeze. "I told you to bring a jacket."

Clarke groaned before lying back on his chest.

"Worth it, though," she said, nestling into his side. Bellamy grumbled something inaudible as he fell back asleep but his arm tightened around her side and Clarke smiled into his chest.

Hope you enjoyed it! As always, I'm taking prompts on tumblr (blueshirtbell)!