I'd never thought of myself as someone that could comfort people...or at least be the one people turned to for comfort. Doctors who couldn't take themselves out of the emotional side of a situation lost their focus. They couldn't do their job, and they couldn't help the people that trusted them with their lives.
When people got used to seeing you shut your emotions down, they started assuming you didn't have any at all.
I watched Bellamy turn around and walk away, a weird kind of fear squeezing my heart. I'd started leaning on him more and more to see the real me. If something happened to him, I'd be lost. Functional but without an anchor.
Realizing that made my heart break just a little bit more for Raven.
I waited until her sobs died down to labored breathing, patting her back with one hand and keeping her close with the other. "We're going to make it," I told her. "I don't know how, but we're going to. We're in it together, okay?"
She sniffled, her hands holding onto my jacket like it was the only thing keeping her standing. I'd always thought Raven was the strongest of us all. I still thought that. But she'd had the floor cut out from under her. She needed time.
I wished I could give it to her. The problem was we just didn't have it. There was so much at stake here. We had to keep pushing forward no matter what.
I smoothed her hair back, blinking back the wetness in my own eyes. She had it up in her normal ponytail, but it was haphazard and I didn't think she'd washed it in awhile. Everything about her radiated neglect—both from herself and from others.
I was just as guilty as anybody else in that regard. I just wasn't thinking about much beyond myself. It was time to start doing something about that.
I drew back and looked her in the eye. "We need to get you hydrated. While we're at it, we're going to get washed and get some food in you."
She sniffled, staring back wordlessly.
I squeezed her shoulder.
She blinked rapidly, then nodded, swallowing and gathering her composure. "Okay."
I smiled a little. "Okay."
We turned and started to walk back to the heart of camp, Raven rubbing at her cheeks to get rid of the tear stains. She lifted her head, and it was almost looking at the old Raven again.
I knew it was probably desperation that sent Raven to me. She was right; I was the only one that could come close to understanding how she felt without Finn. The thing was...she'd held her hand out to me more than once when she didn't have to. She could have tried to tear my hair out when she found out about me and Finn. She could have been a justified bitch when we were at the river. She wasn't. I didn't know how much that meant to me before.
I couldn't give her time, but I could give her friendship. Maybe that wasn't much. I had to at least try.
We sat down with the others and Raven finally ate something with substance out of one of the bowls Baxter made. I listened around, looking for potential helpers. I got a rudimentary mental list together of about four people, but I knew next to nothing about carving, so the final decision would be up to Baxter.
Our next stop was to Monty's. He wasn't in, but his supplies were. The both of us made use of that flower water I'd heard so much about. I even finally got to experience what mint smelled like. Clean and...fresh. Kind of like a cold morning.
We stripped down to our underwear to keep our shirts clean and took turns scrubbing each other's heads over the bowls. When it was my turn, I found myself with my head bent, staring at my belly.
It looked the same. No discernible changes. No way to tell yet if anything was different with me. Standing there, gripping the edges of the crude table, all I had was time to think.
Bellamy was right—I had to stop pretending that things would magically fix themselves with this pregnancy thing. I had to face it.
I was probably pregnant by a dead one night stand who cheated on his girlfriend.
It was a less than ideal situation. It sounded awful in my head. Definitely not fairy tale material. If this was one of those soap opera recordings I secretly watched on the Ark, I'd wince at the hackneyed plot twist. But...life wasn't pretty. It wasn't convenient. I had baggage. Bellamy was willing to help me carry it, but I needed to do most of the heavy lifting. For me. For my baby. Even if I wasn't pregnant now, I might be some day in the future. Then or now, things would not be easy.
Thanks to my talk with Bellamy today, I felt more optimistic about it, but Raven was the one that really hammered a point home. We were all down here. Some of us were good people, some of us were bad people, and some of us were somewhere in between. In the end, though, we had to do the best we could because there was no returning to space.
This was home now. I had to make to make it the best place I could for my baby.
My baby. She'd never know what it was like to be anywhere else but on Earth.
By coming to me Raven reaffirmed my conviction to do better. It was easy to get tired down here. It was easy to forget that other people had problems and were suffering too. I could lean on Bellamy and take comfort in him, but I also had to be the person other people could look to and take comfort in too. It was more than just being a stand-in doctor or a leader. It was about being a part of a group that needed to get through this. Otherwise what was the point?
I needed a community for my child.
So how was I going to start?
We were standing around, rubbing some rough fabric over our hair, when Raven finally said something, "You ever wonder what's out there?"
I glanced at her.
"Besides the Grounders and Mt. Weather, I mean."
"Like buildings and towns? Sometimes. Why?"
"I just wonder what we're missing by staying in here."
"Raven...I know you feel trapped-"
"It's not just that. We know better than anybody how big Earth is. We spent our whole lives staring at it." She squeezed her hair a little harder. "When we were kids Finn and I would sometimes sit at one of the viewports and talk about what was down here. He was really good at telling stories. He had this book from his granddad called Western Civilization: Volume One. A textbook or something, with real pages. I'm not much for reading, but we must have gone through that thing four times front to back."
I stayed quiet. This was Raven's way of dealing with loss. I knew that, but it was strange to hear something so personal about Finn. Maybe it was my talk with Bellamy this morning. I was coming to terms with the idea that I was going to have a baby. Part of me wanted to know more about the person who fathered her, even if I kept that information to myself for the rest of my life.
If Raven thought it was weird she was telling this to her boyfriend's one night stand, she didn't let on.
"He wanted to see a lot of things. The pyramids. Statues. Cities. He always wanted to be a cowboy. I told him there was probably nothing left down here but he wouldn't listen. Said something must have survived." She looked at me. "What if he was right? The Grounders made it. Maybe a building or something is still standing. Stuff we could use."
"We might have to go through a lot of territory to get to it," I said carefully. I didn't know where she was exactly she was going with this, but I had an idea.
And I wasn't sure if I could encourage it just yet.
"Or it might be over the next ridge," she countered. "We don't know because we haven't tried. What if there's a huge supply depot somewhere? With...I don't know...flashlights, medical supplies. Clothes for winter."
I heard what she was saying, but how much of it was her talking and how much of it was her grief? "I can't argue that whatever we would find would be helpful. We need anything we can get. But is it worth sending some of the few people we have left on a hunch?"
For a second Raven didn't reply. Then suddenly she smiled like she was laughing at something on the inside, even while her eyes got wet. "When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway," she said. "Finn's favorite quote."
It sounded like Finn.
It resonated with me—the hundred were defying expectations every single day, and Raven wasn't wrong. "It's something that's worth thinking about."
"Come on, Clarke. You and I both know if people want to leave the camp, you can't stop them."
"No," I allowed, "but I do know that the smaller the group, the easier it would be for the Grounders to pick us off. Strength comes from numbers. We don't know what the Grounders want or how to talk to them. That's not even counting radiation fog or all the wild animals you could come across. I'm not saying that we shouldn't," I added when she would have spoken. "I'm just saying we have to be careful. If nothing else, I've learned that down here."
"Personally, I don't think being careful has gotten anybody anywhere down here."
Said the girl who put herself in a junk ship to get to Earth. "Just promise me you won't go off on your own?"
"Why? There's nobody to care anymore."
I stopped what I was doing. "I care."
She wouldn't look at me. "Why?"
"Does there have to be a why? I care. If you disappear, I'll worry. It's just that simple." I put the towel up to dry and put my shirt back on. "Want to come with me on my rounds today?"
She hesitated. All of a sudden it was starting to get awkward between us. Why? Was she embarrassed? I waited, not wanting to push her.
Then she shrugged. "Alright."
Why did I feel guilty all of a sudden? "Let's see what the hundred's gotten itself into today."
"A group of self-policing teenaged delinquents? What could have gone wrong?" was her wry reply.
The answer to that: a broken finger, a smashed foot, a bump on the head, two idiots who decided fighting over the same girl was a great idea, and a twisted wrist. Having Raven along turned out to be a big help; she helped set the finger and clean the cuts and wounds that we came across. I got through my rounds in half the time.
We didn't talk much. It was easier to get lost in the barely controlled chaos. I caught sight of Munroe at one point. She was following Miller around close, sneaking looks at him when he had his back turned.
"Hmm," Raven said suddenly. "I didn't see that coming."
I looked from them to her, wondering what she was thinking. "You hang out with her a lot?"
"Some. Munroe's okay. A little dry, but you can count on her for a dirty joke every once in a while."
I tried to picture that and failed miserably. "What kind of dirty joke?"
She just raised her eyebrows.
"I've had fun before," I insisted.
Her look didn't change.
"I am very fun."
She held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay. Whatever you say."
This was peer pressure, pure and simple. "Is that how it is?"
"That's how it is."
"Alright, I'll prove it—" Something caught my attention.
"I'm waiting," she prompted.
But I was busy looking at the kid that just walked by. A kid I'd treated a week ago for a cut on his hand, who was now keeping it wrapped up in a filthy rag, tinges of green peeping out from under the bandage.
I didn't bother to explain; I just left Raven right where she stood and marched over to grab him by the shoulder. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded, grabbing his wrist.
He ripped it out of my hand. "Jeez, ease up Clarke-"
"I told you to keep this clean! That means washing your bandage and putting some of those plants I gave you on it. Did you do any of that?"
"It's just a little cut," he said.
"A little cut that is now infected." I pointed at his hand, ignoring the people who were staring at us. They needed to hear what I had to say. "Do you see those green and blue lines? That's your body trying and failing to fight foreign bodies in your bloodstream. If you don't help it along, it loses the fight and your blood essentially becomes poisoned, because we never developed the natural barriers needed to survive down here. What started out as a little cut will kill you."
The more I talked, the more furious I became. How could someone be so stupid? I was very clear from the beginning that he had to take care of the wound. I had no idea I'd have to hammer the idea that we were in a life-threatening situation home. Call it youthful neglect or just plain stupidity, but he was fundamentally signing his own death warrant by just leaving things to chance.
He was getting it now, though, if his expression was anything to go by. He tried to hide his worry behind a lazy shrug. "You'll fix it."
If anything, that made me madder. "Do you know how I'll fix it? By cutting off your hand. If you don't come with me, right now, and let me do what I can to undo the damage you've done, then amputation is the only chance I have of saving your life." I glared. "Let's go."
He hesitated, pale, looking at his friend like he would be able to help. His friend stared back, wordless, his lips almost white.
I felt Raven step closer to my back. I hoped to God she wouldn't say anything. I was furious, but I was also hyper aware of the onlookers. I didn't start the confrontation for the alpha points. That didn't mean I didn't know what would happen if he shrugged me off again. I still had a long way to go in proving to them that I was an essential part of the camp, not someone that could be taken for granted or stepped on. If she tried to help me, they might take that as me needing someone rather than being able to handle things on my own.
The tense moment stretched out.
If he didn't take me seriously, he would die. They'd know I was right, but sacrificing a life just for people to get that wasn't worth it.
He swallowed. "Okay."
He turned and started marching.
I didn't know how tight I'd been holding myself until just then. I couldn't relax—there was too much to do, and it was not going to be pretty—but I was glad at least to have the chance to save him. I was going to fight this out to the bitter end.
I steadied myself internally and followed. Raven caught up to me, sliding a look my way. I met and held it. "This might get messy," I told her solemnly.
"Is that something you can do?" she asked me in a very low, earnest voice, making a slight motion over her wrist. Her skin was a little pale.
I nodded, trying to keep the conversation to a minimum and one eye on my patient's back. "May not have a choice. I'll need help." I hated to ask. She'd been there during Finn's surgery, but this was different. This was cutting off a human body part—probably the most gruesome thing imaginable right now.
"You really know how to throw a party, Clarke."
The weak joke made me smile. "I'm a barrel of laughs."
"I'll giggle after," she said. I could see how much the decision cost her, but she didn't flinch under my scrutiny or back down.
I was more grateful than she could imagine.
xxxxx
I read through the list slow and steady. Didn't want to miss a detail. When I got to the end, I lowered it and looked at the ragtag group I'd assembled. "This is good. Real good." So good I almost felt confident.
"I thought you were bringing back Clarke?" Octavia said from where she sat across the room. She had that smug look on her face. She knew they'd come up with something workable.
"Busy." Better to leave it at that. I didn't know what Reyes' deal was, but it didn't take a genius to figure out it had something to do with Finn. Jasper and a few others had been good about watching her, but hell, some things a person had to get off his or her chest.
"This guy's a walking book." She nudged Peter in the thigh with her boot.
Jasper clocked the movement, frowning when she beamed a smile up at the silent member of that triangle.
It took everything I had in me not to roll my eyes. Great.
The sigh Agro-Wonder smothered beside me echoed the sentiment.
Peter just looked extremely uncomfortable with all the attention, looking up at the wall next to him like it had the ability to save him. Poor guy. I'd try to help, but Goggles needed to get his own hands dirty for once.
Not that I was crazy about the idea of him and Octavia. Or anybody and Octavia. Truth was, though, Jasper had nobody to blame but himself for his own misery. Step up or step aside. "Alright. Teams. Any suggestions?"
We bounced names around, but it wasn't as long a list as I would have liked. The problem was that we had a hell of a lot of people we didn't know much about. That had to change. "First thing we're going to do is figure out who is in this camp and what they can do. O?"
"You got it, big bro. Want to come with me?" she asked Peter.
You know, if she hadn't spent her entire life locked up in one room or another, I probably would have killed someone on the Ark a long time ago. Or maybe she would have gotten all of this out of her system sooner? I crossed my arms and just waited for Peter to collapse under pressure.
He looked at O like she'd asked him to eat one of those bugs that flew into your face at night. I had a feeling he would have legitimately run the other way if someone hadn't been blocking the path to the hatch.
"I'm going with you," Monty suddenly announced.
I raised my brow.
"I'm sick of being the guy stuck inside. I want to have a chance to meet people when they aren't drunk on my moonshine or throwing up. Maybe I'll do better with them when they're sober."
Goggles looked like he had his doubts, but respect for not saying whatever he was thinking out loud. Monty didn't strike me as much of a mover or a shaker either. He was just one of those people you had to go to, not the other way around.
He was already gathering up his writing supplies—exactly where did he get those, again?-and acting like it was a done deal, so I shrugged and nodded at Octavia. She took the hint and got up without another word.
For once.
Peter waited until they left, very interested in that wall again, before he looked me in the eye for the first time. "Wouldn't it be easier to ask the Ark for a comprehensive list of data? You'd have number, age, and career path."
"Yep. But I have a feeling people here have skills the Ark doesn't know anything about." I inclined my head toward the table. "Mind if I ask why you know all this? Not much of it was found in Earth Sciences."
A shadow crossed his face. "Some cultures were already on the verge of dying out when everything happened. Whoever's left has to carry the stories inside."
I stared at him. "You're the last?"
He nodded. "After me, there's nothing left."
Jesus. Just...Jesus.
"Maybe not," Jasper said from behind. "The Grounders survived. Nobody thought that was possible."
Peter looked at him, and Jasper bit his lip. "I mean...you know..." He kind of flailed at that point.
"Maybe not," Peter repeated solemnly. Then he cracked the first smile I'd ever seen from him. If you could call it that. I don't think his lips actually moved much.
Jasper, on the other hand, grinned. Probably relieved he didn't put his foot in his mouth again. "So, what stories are we talking about here?"
"Not now, Goggles," I interrupted. "Save it for the fire. I want the two of you to check on the waginogans. Once those are done, we're getting work on nets and spears. Confer with Octavia and Monty to see who might help you with that."
"Oh. Okay. Come on, Peter."
They went to the hatch and climbed down. I guess Jasper thought they were out of earshot, because I heard him say to Peter, "But seriously though: what stories?"
I sighed and sank my head into my hand, but couldn't help laughing a little.
It was never really quiet in camp. The din just deadened a bit at night before the forest took over. Different kind of sound from the mechanical white noise I'd grown up in.
With everybody gone, the sound from outside was blocked out enough that I actually felt alone for once. The good kind of alone. I enjoyed it for all of two seconds, looking at the table and remembering everything the Think Tank had gotten accomplished. It was all theory at this point, but we had nothing but opportunity down on the big old world for practical application.
I thought about Clarke. Was Raven done crying yet? Everybody dealt with grief a little differently. Hard to say what a person would do while they were mourning somebody. Should I go check?
Eh. Better to let Clarke handle it. Health was her domain. Guess that could extend to emotion as well as the body. I just had to make sure nobody got themselves killed, everybody stayed safe, and stupidity didn't run rampant.
Had to wonder which of us had the harder job.
Suddenly the faint echo of a scream ripped through the quiet.
Shit.
I rushed for the hatch.
All I had to do was follow people's line of sight and I ended up at Clarke's med center. "What happened?" I demanded.
Another scream.
I pushed my way in, practically shoving people out of the way.
"Would you shut up?" Raven was yelling into some guy's ear. She had him in a headlock and was holding his arm on the table by the wrist. Clarke was helping, keeping pressure with one hand while she held a smoking knife in the other.
The smell of burning flesh was sickening.
Suddenly the guy slumped forward, out cold.
"Finally," Reyes grunted as she untangled herself. "He should have known better."
Clarke noticed me then. "Hold his arm down, please. He's not going to be out for long. I have finish closing the wound."
I saw the cut. "What the hell?"
"We've cleaned out the cut and drained it. Now we have to seal it. If it stays exposed to air, he might lose the hand." She was all business, but I saw the glisten of sweat on her temple. This was not easy for her.
So I just nodded and took up Raven's position, locking my arms around the guy's body and holding him steady while she put all her weight on his arm.
"Ready?"
We both nodded.
She went to work.
I was probably going to puke later, but in that second I had a wriggling, panicked idiot to handle.
Clarke was finished almost before he got the scream out, dousing the knife in a bowl of water. She examined her work and nodded. "That's all we can do for now."
"You bitch!" he shouted furiously.
I almost clocked him, but Clarke just met his gaze calmly. "Imagine how much it will hurt if you don't do what I say next time. Cutting off your hand without anesthetic. Picture it for a second."
I thought he would pass out again, so I flicked him in the cheek. "Hey. Pay attention."
"If amputation means saving your life, I will do it," she said. "So do yourself a favor. Listen to me."
I slowly let the guy go. If he tried anything, he was going down. But he didn't. He listened to Clarke with a white face, and when she was done, he limped out of the med center into the crowd that had gathered around.
I watched him go with a tic in my cheek, then turned to the girls. "Everything alright here?"
They glanced at each other. "Bellamy, I was the one with the red-hot knife," Clarke pointed out.
"That didn't answer my question."
She looked like she wanted to argue, but then a little smile appeared at the corner of her pretty mouth. "We're fine."
I had a feeling she was talking about more than her and Raven. I nodded. "Good." I stayed for a second longer—I didn't want to keep walking away from this girl—but there was a camp to run and a lot of people to see to. "See you later?"
She nodded.
Yeah. We'd see each other later.
I left.
Hours—and I do mean hours—later I found her in the tent we'd set the computer up in. Raven was nowhere to be found and Clarke didn't seem to be communicating with anyone in particular, so I let myself in. She had the one chair/stool thing, so I settled for collapsing on the ground at her feet. Or her side, whatever you wanted to call it.
I leaned my head on the makeshift desk. "Damn."
"That bad?" One of her hands drifted down. Fingers threaded through my hair.
She was petting me like a...I don't know, dog or something. The worst part was that I didn't mind. "Yeah. How about you?"
"Well, nobody's dead and there aren't any extra parts lying around camp. I'd call that a success."
"What did Baxter want?"
She gave my hair a final tug and went back to typing. "Extra help. He had a good point; he and Sam are working really hard. They can't keep up the same pace. He also made a case for extra compensation."
"What?"
"Well, they're providing a specialized service to the camp but for exactly the same amount of food as someone who spends their night guarding the wall."
"We can't do money."
"That's what I told him. Honestly, I think he just wants some respect and recognition. That's not unreasonable."
"So what are we thinking?"
"I don't know. I've been trying to look up bartering systems, but I'm not having much luck. We have group share. We have a rationing system. Giving more food or something special seems like it would set us up for for a problem."
"Everybody needs to contribute," I thought out loud.
"We can't let Baxter and Sam be taken for granted."
"We need those bowls."
She stopped typing. "What about buy one, get one free?"
I frowned. "What?"
"Whenever I would see an Old America show, they had something called advertising. Basically if a person bought something, they'd get another thing of equal or lesser value for free."
"No money, Clarke."
"I'm not talking about money." She looked at me from the desk. "I mean giving Baxter and Sam help and something special they want. They give everyone exactly one bowl for free. After that, if someone wants another or breaks theirs, they have to trade with him for it. It'll be up to the individual."
I didn't see how that fit in with what she'd originally said, but... "That's not a bad idea. It's still barter, and people still get something they need."
"Or Baxter and Sam can teach other people how to make what they need."
"Also a good idea. Could do both." My brain was too tired to make a decision about it now, so I just sat there and listened to her type for a while. "Still researching?"
"Sort of. I'm looking something up Raven said today."
I lifted my head. "Things good with her?"
"Good enough," was her vague answer. "As good as we can expect. She mentioned sending out parties to see what's out there."
Dammit. "I was afraid of that."
"I asked her to wait."
I had a feeling that would only work for so long.
"Found it," she said suddenly. "When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway."
I perked up to listen.
xxxx
"When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back. When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some," I finished.
"Dare to fight back," Bellamy repeated slowly. "I like that. Who said it?"
I looked at the credit line. "Steve Maraboli."
"I'm gonna use it."
I smiled at the keyboard as I typed. "So Jasper's right? You do preplan your speeches?"
"Ha ha, Princess. I just like quotes."
"History, quotes, Romans, Vikings, and the jungle. You are a surprisingly learned man, Mr. Blake."
"I'm a regular wealth of knowledge." He sighed. "Just hope some of that's useful down here."
I paused in the middle of a sentence, turning to look at him. "It is, Bellamy. What you don't know, we'll find out. Isn't that the point of your Think Tank? Put our heads together?" I'd heard about it, but didn't know many of the details.
"I'd feel better about it if we were talking to experts."
Where was this sudden bout of uncertainty coming from? Or, I wondered as I considered him, has it always been there? "Hey." I turned on the stool and put my hand on his cheek. "If weren't for Peter, we wouldn't know about waginogans or animal drives. Experts are those people on the Ark who have never stepped foot on Earth. Most of it's just book knowledge. You've got people with practical experience now." I grasped his chin and gently shook his head. "You know that, or you wouldn't have gotten them together."
His skin looked sallow thanks to the shine of the computer. How had he looked on the Ark? All that beautiful tone must have been washed out. What a waste. Bellamy needed to be under the umbrella of natural sunlight. He belonged under it.
His big fingers came up and curled over mine. "It's easy when it's just about the hundred," he confessed softly, "but now we have someone relying on us that's totally helpless. When Octavia was born, we had a place to keep her in and food to feed her with. Not much, but it was there. When I think about how much work we still have to do, and the fact that it's a bunch of teenagers that has to make it happen..."
He looked at my palm, then kissed it.
"If we want a society, we have to start acting like it. We may be teenagers, Bellamy, but we're not kids anymore. It'll be okay."
He blew out a deep sigh.
"You're just worried." I leaned in to brush a thumb over the shadows under his eye. "And tired. Come on; let's go home. We need to relax."
His eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "You're telling me to relax, Princess? I think you've got our roles reversed."
"I've been hanging out with this really bad influence lately." I took a firmer hold of his hand and helped get him to his feet.
He loomed over me like a big, comforting shadow. "How bad?"
I smiled up at him. "Really bad. Terrible. Awful. No good."
"Horrendous?"
"Abominable."
"Gotta meet this guy," he said, wrapping his arms loosely around my waist.
"I'd think you'd like him."
"Okay," Octavia's voice interrupted from outside the tent flap. "I can't take it anymore. Get a tent, you two. I'm getting the heebie jeebies."
Bellamy turned to say something, but I stopped him with a hand on his chest. "We are in a tent," I called back.
"Jesus," she muttered under her breath. "Look, I'm just here to tell you that we've got fifty names and everything else under the sun on the list. Peter's at the fire and he's telling some kind of story. Jasper says it's awesome. Come if you want."
xxxx
We heard her leave.
Clarke frowned up at me. "List?"
I sighed. Another moment gone. "I'll tell you on the way to the tent. We're getting a waginogan tomorrow, by the way."
She started to shut down the computer. "Are we?"
I heard her emphasis on the word we. "Yep. No getting out of this now, Princess. We'll be together in the eyes of the law and man."
"Man referring to the hundred, and law referring to the fact that we have none?"
"Gotta make an honest woman out of you."
"What if I like being infamous?" Her voice grew husky. She straightened, and gave me this look. "I think we left off somewhere today," she said, biting her lower lip.
Holy shit. "Clarke..."
What the fuck was I going to say? I have no idea. Between me opening my mouth and the first syllable climbing out of my throat, Clarke had stepped into my space and wrapped her hands in my shirt. She lifted herself up on her tip toes and pressed her lips to my throat.
Lightning struck my brain and it went dead. It was all sensation at that point. My arms came around her out of their own instinct, clutching her to me. Her breath warmed up my skin as she mouthed the column of my neck, sucking and licking a spot just to the right.
I bent my head, breathing in her scent. Couldn't find enough air to groan.
She scraped her teeth over my flesh.
"Clarke," I gasped, eyes closed, turned on in zero-point-three seconds.
Suddenly she drew back. Cold rushed over the wet spot her mouth had left behind. "Now you're marked too,"she said.
I blinked, trying to figure out what just happened.
She kissed me. Just cupped her hand around the back of my head and kissed me.
I kissed her like my life depended on it. That was the dumbest turn of phrase I'd ever heard, but in that moment totally true. My world contracted to this girl and us and how we felt together. All our differences and our sameness. When I came up for air I kept our foreheads pressed. Didn't want to give up the contact. "Is this going where I think it is?"
"I want it to," she confessed.
Thank fuck. I put my hand on her back to pull her into me—and she winced.
Shit. Her stitches were out, but the wound was still there. "Or maybe not," I said.
Disappointment rushed through me.
"We can," she insisted, curling her hands tighter.
I had to laugh. "No, we can't, Clarke. What I've got in mind does not leave room for careful handling."
She was not happy with that conclusion. "I'm the doctor."
"Don't care, Princess."
"You're being stubborn."
"I'll make the wait worth your while," I promised, letting her see all my dirty thoughts. And there were many.
She narrowed her eyes, clearly interested despite herself. "Alright," she said after a minute, "but I will be expecting great things, Mr. Blake."
I grinned. "I will deliver, Ms. Griffin." I kissed her again, long and deep, then drew back and started walking with my arm around her waist. "So this list..."
To be continued.