Jingle Bells

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The festivities were in full affect. Everyone was chatting, laughing, drinking and just enjoying the annual celebration -- though this would be the first time it was on the ground. Bellamy was currently off to the side, closer to the gate than the crowd as he just watched everyone, a small smile playing on his lips before he bit into an apple. They were not in season, but they had gathered a great deal of food and found a way to store and preserve it. He had to admit, it was rather nice to see everyone just enjoying the occasion. They deserved it.

Everyone had been through hell and this was probably the closest to some sort of normalcy that they had ever since arriving. It was something traditional for them, something meaningful. He took another bite of his apple, hardly lamenting over the fact that he himself was not in the crowd. He was perfectly content watching them. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure how to celebrate; how to relax . . . how to enjoy himself in such a way.

He did like seeing Octavia though, as this was her first celebration of this evenet without having to keep the festivities confined to their apartment. And she had someone to share it with -- apart from him -- though technically, she had lots of people to share it with. He noticed Clarke starting to approaching him and his eyes left the crowd to rest on her for a moment. "Enjoying the festivities, Princess?" He asked, hoping she was. For she too, most definitely deserved it.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke had been gone for less than two weeks. She had missed people there. She still avoided a lot of people, but it was better. The first night she was meant to sleep in her mothers room, but she felt suffocated and had silently packed everything up and went to the only tent of which she knew who lived in there, which was coincidentally Bellamys. She had slept on her bedroll in his tent that night, somehow managing to sneak in – otherwise he would have probably insisted upon her at least sharing his bed. From then on she had moved into a tent with others again, with people she liked to share a tent with. She still found herself around Bellamy often, because he understood, they had each others backs.

Things got easier slowly. They fell into a routine, which only got disrupted now, by something wonderful. It was New Years Day. They had set up everything they had on the Ark and a little more. Incorporating the culture of Lincoln and old earth traditions made this perhaps the most special New Years Day Clarke had ever experienced. But she found herself walking into a different direction, no matter how much she wanted to enjoy it. It felt a bit like she always had to know where he was, otherwise she’d be restless. And it felt like there was some form of inner compass in her, guiding her to him, even when she couldn’t see it, as if their souls called out for the other soul. And maybe that was the case. Maybe the ways their souls were broken, allowed them to fit together and fix the other? It was a wonderful image, but not likely to be true.

“Now I am. How about you? Don’t feel like dancing with a few girls? You deserve a little fun. Go get some, tiger!” Clarke reached out, placing her hand on his shoulder, while looking at the crowd with him. It reminded her of unity day. It wasn't that long ago, yet it felt like it was ages ago.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The smile remained on his lips. Coping with what they had done was difficult, but having Clarke back with them made it so much easier. Or well, bearable. None of this was easy. But it was why he had wanted to do something for her. She deserved it. A place where she could just escape from everything and everyone. He had been working on it ever since she returned and planned to gift her with it tonight. He smirked at her suggestion of dancing . . . unable to recall the last time he could actually just let loose like that.

"Dancings not really my thing," he told her as he took another bite of the apple, chewing it as he watched, swallowing it before he spoke. "What about you? Shouldn't you be getting in there, showing off your moves?" He asked her teasingly. This felt good. Being able to have a light conversation. No pending threats. No necessity to make difficult decisions. This was perhaps the first time they were able to just truly live, rather than survive. And even if it may not last, at least they could enjoy it while they did. "It's good to see everyone enjoying themselves," he added on as an afterthought, taking another bite of his fruit.

[Clarke Griffin]

“My moves? Oh no no no no.” Clarke replied. She hadn’t gone to balls on the Ark. She didn’t have any coordinated moves. She could rely on a partner, sway a little to the beat pulsing through the night, but that was it. She didn’t know how to dance, so she certainly wouldn’t put herself out there, not like that at least, not alone especially. A plan formed in her mind then. She didn’t have to do it alone. He might say dancing wasn’t his thing, but neither was it hers and they were relatively alone and unobserved over her. She felt herself buzz with the excitement over maybe getting to see him how to dance – to feel him move in a dance, if she played her cards right. They were both pretty useless at parties, she found back at Unity Day, maybe together they could find some fun.

“I will dance, here, but only if you dance with me.” Clarke demanded. She knew him well enough to know that this demand alone was not going to get her where she wanted, not yet. She needed more. “Come on, it’s the end of the year, there’s a new year ahead, there is no thread, even the Grounders don’t fight at the moment. We could let go. We could get the drinks we deserve. We could just dance and be young for a change. I bet you’ve never been to a ball on the Ark. Dance with me, Bellamy, please. If I want to dance, I want to dance with you. We deserve it. You say so yourself all the time.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke stated that she would dance . . . but only if he danced with her. He nearly scoffed at the suggestion, but with her further description, it was evident that she was not actually joking. That she was genuinely trying to convince him. She listed all valid points; of the fact that they could actually relax, be at ease -- that was even possible. But if there was ever a time to allow it to be, now was it. As she had said, the new year was upon them. It was the time to enjoy whatever moments of peace they were granted.

But still. Dancing? Bellamy remained unsure about that. "I think I'm going to need a few rounds before I attempt to do any dancing," he said, not yet giving in, though his voice was playfully hinting at the notion. Truth be told, Bellamy was not one who compromised his sobriety. On the Ark, it had been because of the dangers of unguarded speech, and thus uncontrolled jabber that could have potentially endangered Octavia and his mother. He had always had his guard and wits about him. Down here, he had been forced to remain the same way but for very different reasons. He let out a frustrated exhalation of breath.

"It's really damn hard to say no to you, princess," he said with a playfully accusatory tone, with a hint of annoyance at her charm in convincing him. "Especially when you use my own words against me," he added on in the same tone of voice. "Lead the way then," he said, finally succumbing to her will. He was defeated. "But I suggest you make it a quick one. I have something to show you." A gift he had arranged for her. He hoped that was enough incentive to make this a very short dance . . . or perhaps with luck, skip it all together. Either way, he was giving her what she wanted.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke grinned triumphantly the moment he gave in. He would dance with her. It was something. She made Bellamy Blake dance with her. That was something not many girls could say. He was the cute guy who took care of everything, but he was just as useless at blowing off steam as Clarke was. She didn’t dance, usually, but it was worth it if it got her Bellamy dancing. It was worth every second of her own humiliation by bouncing around pretending to be dancing. Somehow Clarke had the idea that Bellamy probably thought of her having danced a lot before. The balls and dances on Alpha had been known over the station, but Clarke only attended one or two, with good reason or if Wells wanted her to go with him or if her parents really wanted her to go. She couldn’t dance, but she didn’t care. Dancing with him was about fun.

“What?” Clarke asked confused as she tried to move rhythmically, though she thought she was failing quite royally at it. Lucky for her they really had picked a rather removed spot from where they could observe the others without being observed themselves. Nobody would take notice in them. “What did you discover, Bellamy?” Clarke was convinced that even though this festival usually included gifts – she did have a small one for Bellamy – it would not include one for her. They had so much to do, taking care of gifts wasn’t easy here and not what they usually could do. For Clarke Bellamys gift was something she came across by accident and knew it would be perfect for him. She had it hidden in one of the chests in her tent, waiting just for him to finally hold it and hopefully treasure it.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy was enjoying watching Clarke dance more so than participating in the activity himself. She looked adorable, with her movements and it made him smile as he saw this side to her. The last time he had witnessed her relax to this extent was during their Unity Day celebrations. It was nice to see her embrace it again, like this. With them together. His own movements were limited, finding that he was more an observer than someone who partook in such things. But, a deal was a deal. As the music played on, he moved a little more, and a little more . . . until her question made him pause, but kept the smile in place. He didn't want to wait too long to show her, uncertain as to how long it would be until her attention was required elsewhere, or his own.

"Come with me," he told her, already turning toward the direction as he casually placed his hand on her bag. He didn't lead her far; it was within the walls of Arkadia but set a little off to the side for the solitude he was aiming for. He was going to get a lock placed on it for her, which Raven was helping him with. But for right now, it was complete enough to show her. It was a small cabin. He walked up to it proudly, pushing open the door so that she could enter inside first as he just stood by the threshhold. It was just a one room cabin.

It had a place to sleep, a chair, a table, basic necessities of a livable area. The walls were what set it apart, for Bellamy had made the material so that she could sketch on it; cover the entire place with her impressive artwork. And that wasn't all. On the table was a sketchbook. Her sketchbook that had been found among the rubble. It was in fairly good shape, and he even put whatever art supplies he could gather with it as well. He didn't say anything, feeling like he didn't need to. Instead he just watched Clarke's reaction to it, not needing to glorify the gift but truly hoped that it meant something to her. Because, she meant a great deal to him.

[Clarke Griffin]

When Clarke followed him, nothing seemed off apart from his nerves. He seemed to be just a bit excited and nervous, that she kind of expected him to have something small. Instead he brought her to a cabin. It looked cozy from the outside, but that was no match for what awaited her inside. Inside it was pure magic. Clarke looked around. The bed – selfmade – was precious in itself. It larger than any bed she had seen, could easily hold probably up to four bodies she guessed and it was perfect to rest in. There was a table, light, even a small set off area that could almost safely house fire. With candles and a few more decorations this place could be perfect. The walls were fantastic, she knew the surface well, had even drawn on that kind of surface before. Coal lay not too far from it. The table held her old sketchpad and some of the art supplies Wells had once given to her. It was a true blast from the past. It felt wonderful for her to see those object again. It meant the world. But she guessed the art supplies weren’t all. The way this was decorated and the things put inside. She could just imagine herbs drying on the racks attached to the wall, food. Clarke touched the sketchpad gingerly, before turning to Bellamy.

“Did you… did you…” How was she supposed to say this? There really could not be any words even halfway equipped to say this. There were no ways to define the gravity of this without sharing her hope of things. “This is for us, right?” Though she should assume he would need his own bed. Given the sheer size of the bed, she didn’t think so. “You’re crazy, Bellamy. Absolutely crazy. This was where you were off to all this time? To build a cabin? A perfect one at that.” And there she was, having a small gift for him, that could not compare even closely. Clarke reached into her pocket, she pulled it out and handed it to him. It was a book. The book was a pocket sized school book to learn latin. Given how much Bellamy liked history, she figured this was perfect for him. 

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy watched Clarke's reaction as she took in the gift he'd worked on for her. He smiled, unable to prevent feeling a bit proud in this moment upon seeing her speechless and evident signs that she liked it. Good. It was worth every effort. Hell, she was worth every effort. She saked him if it was for the two of them and he paused before answering, allowing her to continue by calling him crazy which only made his smile turn into an amused one. "Yup," he answered nonchalantly, as he continued to look at her, the ease of a smile often drawn out in her presence. Before anything else could be said though, he reached into her pocket and revealed a book to him . . . one that was a clear gift for himself.

He slowly reached out to take it, his eyes fixating on the title. A book to learn Latin. Anything centered around the language and history held a special place in is heart. It reminded him of his childhood . . . of his mother. And for that, anyone who kenw him -- anyone who took the time to actually get to know him -- knew the sentiment of such a gift. And Clarke did. Which, truly meant more to him than he could say. It was his turn to be left speechless as he just stared at the cover. "Thank you," he said with the utmost sincerity, his voice thick with it . . . slightly more emotional than he often revealed it to be. He wasn't sure how long he had just been staring at it until her former question came into his mind. Snapping out of it, he looked up at her, knowing that he would cherish this book. That he would treasure it.

That it was the most perfect gift that someone could have given him. "Nihil," he told her, a slight smirk as he responded to her question in Latin with the word: no. "This place is for you, Clarke. You always give to other people. This place, is specifically for you." Her selfless nature was what made her a great leader. But he had build this cabin with her and only her in mind. Catered to her hobbies, to what she needed; an escape from everything sometimes. Who she let in here was of course up to her. But it wasn't for them. It wasn't built with that in mind. She deserved this, and so much more. "Now if you wanna invite me every now and then, I won't decline," he added on a bit teasingly, clutching the book in his hand.

[Clarke Griffin]

Bellamy was a jerk in the beginning, but it had its reason. Once someone saw underneath that all, it was clear that the jerk was no jerk at all. He was kind and loving, protective and fun. And this was the guy she considered her best friend. This was also the guy, who apparently built a cabin for her, a fully isolated solid place for her. He… he was impossible. Part of her felt a pang of pain and regret again, that she could ever think of leaving him and not being able to look back. She was glad to be here, though. This was her home and he proved it. He was more her home than any place and through this gesture alone he had taken the feeling of home and put it into a place. This was her home then, but still for her he was more home than any place could be, even this one. This one just meant so much because of what it implied, of what it could mean. 

Clarke turned to wrap her arms around Bellamy, pulling herself close to him, as she kissed his cheek and then nuzzled against his shoulder as she usually did. Clarke felt safe there, though what he said wasn’t entirely true. There was a time where she had to be selfish and why she guessed he understood, she didn’t think it was a good thing she had done there. She couldn’t afford to be selfish. She didn’t deserve this, but she knew he’d disagree, so she didn’t voice this. “I want to invite you here every time, Bellamy.” She whispered. “Just like you get to go into my tent whenever you want, the door is always open for you, you’re… you belong here as much as I do. You’re home for me. A house without you can’t be a home: Though this one comes pretty close, because of you.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy felt the familiar sensation of Clarke's arms wrapped around him, the warmth of her body touching every part of him as he basked in it. A feeling he never grew tired from, and one he always craved. He would never be able to fully express just how important she was to him. How much he needed and depended on her. He hoped that small gestures such as giving her this safe haven, would help indicate that. Though nothing could ever truly demonstrate how much he cared about her. The two of them had been through hell, and weren't even out of it yet. But in moments like these, they could feel like they were.

Bellamy slightly lowered his head, his lips casually resting on the top of her head as she nestled against him, telling him that she wanted to invite him here every time . . . and the words that followed, touched him. Right to the very core of whatever was left of his heart. She considered him home. He could understand that because, well, he felt the same way about her. Octavia was here, but he also knew that she considered Lincoln to be more of where her home was than him. Besides, Clarke being here was what gave him a strong comfort. And was what had quite literally saved him. He felt honored by it, that he could mean something to someone.

He moved his head to the side, keeping an arm wrapped around her in the embrace as he held her close. "Well at least here I can actually knock," he teased, a joke considering how they would simply walk in to each others tents before, unable to physically knock on something apart from tapping the fabric. Though it hardly had the same effect. He paused for a moment, feeling the compelling need to return the sentiment she had offered, to show that it was indeed mutual. Felt by him, now needing to be spoken by him. "I feel the same way," he finally said in a low but strongly genuine voice, thick with sincerity. "You're home for me too."