Yay omg thank you so much for the reviews! They made me so excited that I had to update quickly heh! This is the longest chapter yet (I just can't seem to keep to one length anymore) and I really really hope that it lives up to expectations. I'm a little nervous posting it as things have been a long time coming BUT I hope it was worth it xx

Clarke's POV

I woke up very warm. It was a strange sensation, one I hadn't felt since we'd landed on earth. Bellamy's body was entangled with mine and my cheek was resting against him, my fingers splayed across his chest, his hand resting on top of mine, fingers curled underneath my palm. I eased my head off and looked up at his face. It was like the first night, content. I smiled gently and snuggled deeper into the arc of his body, I didn't want this moment to end, I didn't want to have to go back to the two integral leaders of the hundred. I wanted his burning skin under my palms and his strong arm curved around my waist. But even as I lay there, the sleepiness began to slip away from me and realistic thoughts began to filter back through my brain. This wasn't going to last, this companionship, and this comfort. Bellamy would eventually open his eyes and detach himself from my body, he would hook a weapon back over his shoulder and once again become the leader the hundred needed; and I? I would march out of this tent and tend to the injured and later we would discuss attack plans for the grounders and I would forget what it felt like to be this close to this boy.

"What could you possibly be thinking so hard about at this time of the morning?" A mumble came from above me, the chin that was resting on my head, moving.

I shrugged, squeezing my eyes firmly shut and inhaling his woody scent, "Reality."

"A wasted pastime." He murmured, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I sighed, "It's later in the morning, and people are going to think something's going on when they see me leave your tent."

I felt his body tense beneath me, his hand briefly squeezing my hip tightly, before releasing it and letting his hand drop onto the covers beside me. Sudden fear flickered through me and I made a small noise of protest, reaching my spare hand back over and grabbing his so that his arm was hooked around my shoulder, his palm pressed between my own. Bellamy made no move to stop me, removing my other hand from underneath his, his arm completely under my control.

I focused on inspecting his hand in comparison to mine. It was so much larger, callouses around the inside and outside of his knuckles, his skin brown and slightly speckled with the occasional freckle. Hands that had beaten Murphy bloody, I traced the knuckles, hands that had rested on Charlotte's shoulder with reassurance, I traced the inside of the smoothest parts of his palm, hands that two weeks ago would never have let anyone scrutinize them so thoroughly.

"Hoping to read my future princess?" He asked catching my hand with his instead.

He gently turned my hands over with his, "Yeah, trying to see whether we'll end up human shish ka bobs." I laughed, trying to keep my voice from mirroring the butterflies that were rioting through my stomach.

"Hmm," He thought, running one of his fingers down through the centre of my palm, my skin tingling in response, "Yeah from what I can tell from this line here, you are going to be strung up above a grounder fire in two days' time and I'm going to have to save you."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah? Because your palm told me that you were going to stop being an arrogant jerk and find a really big supply of all the medicine that would cure all illnesses in the camp."

His laughter reverberated through both our bodies and I hid my grin.

"What you said before though," He paused, still playing with my fingers, "You're right, people shouldn't see you leaving my tent, they'll get the wrong idea and that's not what we want."

I wondered what the wrong idea was in his mind. That I was another of his female flings? That we'd spent a spontaneous night of passion together drunk on moonshine? That we were in a relationship that was bound to have an impact on our leadership?

"Shall I slip out the back on my elbows and knees, cowering like a guilty mistress?" I asked a little too icily, staring at where our hands had stilled, still entwined.

He sighed heavily, pulling himself upright so that I had to move my head off his chest and ran his fingers through his unruly hair so that it stuck up in swirls and loops, I ached to smooth my fingers through it.

"I just don't think it would be…" He paused, struggling, not meeting my eyes, "In your best interest for people to assume that there was something going on with us."

"Not that I don't agree," I said, sitting so that we were at a similar height, "But why particularly do you think it would not be in my interest?"

I wasn't sure what was going on between us but these moments felt intimate, ones I wouldn't share impulsively with anyone, and I doubted Bellamy lay snuggled in bed with his female companions, without his hands straying, very often.

His eyes dropped to mine, serious and achingly warm, "The camp as a whole trusts your judgement more than mine, they may follow me but they don't trust me, not entirely. They'll think I've somehow compromised you and –"

I cut him off, "Bellamy, they don't think you're the antichrist. You need to have more faith in your ability to gain the loyalty of people. If anyone asks I'll tell them I just came in to let you know that I thought I saw grounders outside the walls."

I avoided his eyes and tugged on my boots, flattening my hair in what I hoped was a way that would pass as having been awake for hours. I felt as if I were a rejected lover, shunned after losing my virginity, by my love. The corners of my eyes were beginning to burn and bit down hard on my tongue, there was no way I was showing emotion here, not now. It all felt so very ridiculous, what had I expected?

"Clarke," he started, resting his hand on my shoulder, his index finger gently sweeping across the side of my neck, "It's not as if I'm ashamed, I just, we're just—"

I spun around to face him, "I know, there's nothing going on and we wouldn't want people to think otherwise. I get it Bellamy, you don't have to explain, it makes sense and I agree." His eyes zoned in on the flush that was beginning to creep up my neck when I started to get emotional and he opened his mouth.

I ducked out of the tent before he could reply, hurrying across the blessedly generally clear yard, inhaling the sharp, icy air, trying to clear my head. I wasn't usually a crier but lately the tears had been tugging at the corners of my eyes far too often to count. I attributed it to the lessened sleep and completely unfamiliar situations.

"Woah, Clarke, are you alright?" Octavia appeared in my line of sight, obviously noticing the liquid that was beginning to pool in my eyes.

I nodded, smiling and rubbing my fist against my eyes, removing the moisture, "Yeah, just tired I guess."

I continued past her, not wanting to have another discussion with a Blake sibling at this time of the morning. They were far too inquisitive and I could see Bellamy in her high cheekbones and her eyes.

Bellamy POV

"Alright, sweet brother of mine." Octavia whirled into my tent, not even bothering to announce her presence which I found strange since people usually entered my tent with caution, "What exactly did you say to Clarke?"

I frowned at her, tugging my jacket over my shoulders and wincing when my wound pinched, "Nothing, what are you on about O?"

She crossed her arms, "I saw her leaving your tent looking pretty out of sorts, and I know that there's something going on, I'm not blind."

"We were talking about the grounders, I don't know why she'd be upset." I shrugged, turning away so that she wouldn't see the lie imprinted on my lips.

"You're full of rubbish," She announced, "I know you like her."

Anger and embarrassment flooded through me, pressing up against my skin, hot and desperate, closing around me, I felt trapped, claustrophobic, "What?"

Sympathy flashed through her eyes and she stepped forward, wrapping her tiny hand around my arm, "Bell, I've seen the way you are with her, it's just me, you don't have to be afraid. She isn't going to disappear, this isn't like mum."

Her eyes were pleading with me, my arms were shaking, "I'm the reason mum got floated." I whispered, reaching up to grip her arm with my hand, to steady myself. I hated the feeling of weakness that clouded my brain, making it difficult to think. Weakness was an enemy.

She shook her head, "You know that's not true, what happened to mum was her fault, she made the decision to keep me."

I clenched my teeth, emotion burning through my skin, I felt as though I would implode, "I can't let anyone else in O, I need to protect you."

"Letting someone else in, doesn't mean you aren't protecting me," She whispered, her eyes imploring me to believe her, "You aren't a stone wall Bell, letting yourself feel something for someone isn't an act of betrayal upon yourself, isolation won't heal."

I wasn't even sure what it was I felt for Clarke Griffin, but the way her fingers had splayed across my chest and the way her legs had felt pressed against mine, had made me feel safer and more secure than I had been since mum died. Part of me knew that Octavia was right, but the other part of me blanched at the idea of someone seeing me with the walls crumbling, the way Octavia was now.

"I can't, its weakness." My teeth gritted.

She shrugged, squeezing her hands around my arms once more, before releasing me and stepping backward, "She's good for you, and I hope you realize that."

Clarke's POV

I was approached by a boy I didn't recognize around midday, he had straw coloured hair and rounded cheeks, a gun slung over his shoulder and an almost fearful look in his eyes. He couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen. I recognized him slightly and I wondered whether he'd been in any of my classes on the Ark before we'd both been jailed for our crimes. I wondered what his crime was. He had a sweet face, I imagined it was something petty like stealing for his family.

"Hi?" I greeted as he approached the table where I was wrapping a bandage around the arm of one of the younger girls of the camp, she'd fallen attempting to pull berries off a tree just outside the wall.

He nodded, fiddling nervously with the pocket of his jacket, "You're needed outside the wall immediately, there's been an injury."

I frowned slightly, noticing the tension in his shoulders, "Sure, I'll be right there." I said turning back to finish up the bandage.

"No, it has to be now," He demanded, his voice quivering ever so slightly, panic heightening the tone.

"Has someone been badly injured?" I inquired, grabbing a few necessary items and stuffing them into my pockets, following him out of the drop ship.

"Yeah, come quickly." He said, marching quickly ahead of me, glancing around as if to make sure we weren't drawing attention to ourselves.

I began to worry at my lower lip as an uneasy sensation began to grow inside me, I gripped the knife at my hip to reassure myself.

Once we were outside the fence line the boy began to relax a little leading me further away from the view of guards, "It's just over here," he encouraged, pointing to a small ridge, one I recognized as where a guard was usually posted.

Maybe someone had been injured on duty? It wasn't uncommon after all. The anxiety began to settle as I reached the top of the recline, "So where's –"

Abruptly a heavy object made contact with the back of my head and a sharp pain reverberated through my scull as I pitched forward, a cry slipping from my lips.

"Please be quiet." The voice I recognized as the blonde boy was desperate, yanking me up by the collar of my jacket, the panic still in his voice, I figured the blow was meant to have injured me more seriously.

He raised his fist again as stars danced across my vision. Before it could make contact with me again I yanked my knee upwards, his groan telling me I'd hit my target. I struggled to my feet and screamed as loud as I could, staggering over the hill and screaming again, "HELP!"

A hand wrapped around my ankle and I fell face forward into the dirt, my fingers scrabbling at the rocky ground, the taste of dirt and blood on my tongue, "BELLAMY!" I screamed the first name I could think of. The only name I trusted to save me.

Two dark figures emerged from the trees and I heard a gunshot and the pressure on my ankle subsided, leaving me free to scramble to my feet, a pair of arms hooking under my arms and heaving me upright. His face was so close to mine that even with my shaken vision I could count the freckles dotting his cheeks, concern and anger fought for domination in his eyes. He cool fingers found my cheeks and my temple, holding my head, "Clarke, Clarke are you okay?" his distress evident, as he desperately sought my confirmation.

I nodded weakly, reaching my hand out to grab his hip to steady myself.

"I heard your scream," He whispered, his breath caressing my cheeks, "I thought you were, I thought…" Then suddenly his lips were pressed to my forehead, my cheeks, and finally capturing my lips. Gentle, warm, contrast to his cool fingers, one hand on my cheek, one on my hip, holding me steady.

I swayed, moving one of my hands to tangle in the hair I had so longingly ached to twist my fingers into. His lips tasted slightly of my blood but more so of sweet berries and Bellamy Blake. Gently he released my lips and pressed his forehead to mine, his breath whispering around my cheeks, his thumb gently tracing my lips, his eyes squeezed shut, body pressed against mine. Holding me firmly against him. Warmth. Bellamy.

Let me know what you think! Reviews = motivation = more bellarke! Hehe xx