I can't lose you

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She told him that he should start listening to the doctors. He assumed that she was referring to Abby and Jackson even, but there was only one person that Bellamy tended to listen to the most. "I did." He paused for a moment. "I have. It's the reason I'm alive. But it's not really the titled doctors that I owe that to." It was due to her. Mostly her. Lincoln and Octavia had gotten the antidote, but really, he owed Clarke.

She stated that she would sleep when she was dead, and Bellamy would have smiled had he thought she was joking. But her voice sounded serious, not holding any joviality and it made him almost worried that she meant it. "Or you could try to sleep now," he suggested, quite aware that his words wouldn't make a difference. He decided to move closer, before he sat upright on his bed, looking at her as she suggested he get some rest. "I've been resting for days. Which is more than you have." Granted, he had no other choice but still. God he hated this . . . awkwardness between them. This air of tension -- if that was even the right word.

Her eyes were red, either from lack of sleep or . . . something else that would only make him feel more guilty. He couldn't keep beating around the bush. He was afraid of her leaving again, of pushing her away when that was the last thing he wanted to do. "I hurt you, didn't I," he both asked and stated . . . because he already knew the answer. He had never been in love before and he was really screwing things up with the first woman he fell in love with. It wasn't mutual, and he had already accepted that . . . but that didn't mean he should get way with hurting her. With placing her in this position. No. He needed to fix this. He couldn't lose Clarke in his life.

[Clarke Griffin]

“I won’t sleep.” It was quite simple to her. The dreams would come. I was day. She would not sleep. She refused to sleep right now. Maybe even in the night. Clarke knew her body would eventually demand sleep, but that was the only sleep she wanted. As soon as her body was this far, it would be like passing out: restful and dreamless most likely. She wanted to go for that. Everything else brought her dangerously close to having to deal, having to endure what her dreams showed her and to having to listen to the voiced in her heads, speaking the truth about what was going on around her every second, how she was not good enough and never would be. She didn’t deserve to heal. Most likely what happened to him was her doing as well and that would eventually be accounted for as well. Maybe he’d learn to hate her as she was not good enough for him anyway.

Clarke shrugged as he stated he hurt her. There was no point in denying it or confirming it. It didn’t matter. She had to deal with this situation in order to salvage whatever was left of their friendship. Lexas words came to her mine. Love is weakness. How right she was. She was beginning to understand why she was cutting herself off from whatever relationship she had, but Clarke knew she could never deny not having feelings herself. She had to numb herself to whatever she was feeling. She had to go out there, work, suffer under those looks and learn to deal with the people thinking of her like they did. It was the only way for her to proceed. There might be no way to go back to who she was before and she should let go of expecting anything pleasant. She was their leader, together with Bellamy. He inspired the masses, but it seemed like she finally found her place. 

Maybe her place was to be the one making the decisions nobody else could. To bathe herself in blood when nobody else would dare to make this decision. To give up her soul to save theirs. I bear it so they don’t have to. She remembered those words spoken not only by herself. She’d bear it, their looks, the responsibility, the pain, so they could sleep at night. Maybe that was what she was good for. Not good enough, but at least something. 

“It’s okay. I understand, Bellamy. And really, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s what it is, we’ll move on from that. We’ll continue to be their leaders, like every other day. I’ll deal with it. No point in dwelling on things that should be in the past. Let’s just move on and forget this ever happened. I should go, get to work.” With that she slowly got up from the bed, to get her clothes and prepare to go out. 

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke said that she wouldn't sleep. He knew that feeling all too well. Though his body was recovering from the poison, it still held wounds that would never heal. Ones that would undoubtedly haunt him, keep him up at night. He had found peace with Clarke, but now wondered if things would ever be the same with the two of them. If they would have that comfort and ease they once did. Judging from her next words, he wasn't entirely certain. Opening up about what was in his heart and vocalizing it, was not an easy task for Bellamy. His question had been a way to prompt that, to open the discussion about it. But it seemed that Clarke just wanted to move on, to forget about it.

Previously, he never really cared enough to have a discussion about something in the hopes of resolving the issue, or whatever was creating tension and unease. But he had wanted to at least try. Yet he doubted he could say it again . . . and Clarke's answer made it evident that she didn't want to talk about it.he wanted to forget about it and move on and just be the leaders they always were. "Alright," he said simply. He couldn't ask her if she was staying, or protesting her leaving. It was clear that she was going to and he had no right to stop her. "Thanks again, for everything." If there wasn't an opportunity to say it later . . . if they would not find themselves alone like they did now, he wanted her to know how grateful he was for saving his life.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke never thought that one day four simple words, spoken maybe in kindness could feel like a stab to her heart. They had a finality to them that she did not know how to deal with, so she didn’t. The blonde simply nodded before ducking out of the tent. For a moment she thought she might be able to break down there and then, but she felt the eyes of the others on her almost immediately, rendering her incapable of giving in to the urge to just react on this pain. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe not dealing was exactly what she needed. At the moment she doubted that she could break any further. Hadn’t she reached full capacity yet? Hadn’t she reached the point of no return yet? How much more could people hurt her? How much more could she tear herself apart in order to protect the people she loved? How long could she take being around the others? Clarke tried not to think of those questions as she worked with the others, building tents, tending to injuries, never looking into peoples faces, not even as they spoke about her or to her. The only moment she did, was when someone suggested a possible culprit for Bellamys poisoning. Was it possible? If they were right the entire idea of poisoning…. It was her fault, wasn’t it? It was because of her that someone hurt Bellamy. 

When Clarke returned to the tent, her throat felt like it was on fire. The held back emotion left her in actual physical pain she could barely understand. Clarke knew emotions and heartbreak had power over a humans body. A broken heart could actually kill a human, as emotional distress could actually make things in the heart break. It was fascinating, as long as you were not affected. She was now. She felt the pain in her throat and it felt like there was a physical barrier before the tent that she could not cross. What if those words meant he did not want to see her anymore? What if she was no longer welcome? Anywhere actually? Clarke looked around. So many people were struggling, she could not let herself be weak, but she knew, at the end of this day she could not hold herself up anymore. This was what it felt like to break apart fully. Right then she couldn’t care about Bellamy. She let out a sob, just before she managed to stumble into the tent. She made it two steps inside before she allowed her legs to lose the fight against gravity, falling to the floor, crying. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go out and help the people when their gazes tore her apart. She couldn’t keep wondering if she was welcome in her own tent or even here. She wanted to be enough for someone, yet she knew by now she wasn’t. It hurt so much. 

“I can’t do this anymore. I…. it needs to stop.” She was whispering it more to herself, not expecting Bellamys help, not even knowing if he was there. Yet she didn’t even know how to make it stop. Running was an option, but what good would it do? It would not put her back together. Nothing would, but the sobs, the tears, the high pitched squeaks she let out at least helped her aching throat just a little, because she was finally letting it out.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

When Clarke left, Bellamy sat there for only a little while longer, trying to collect his thoughts. He cursed himself for having put her and them in this position. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Proclaiming his feelings for her had done nothing but create this tension between them. She said that they should just forget about it . . . but could they truly do that? Was it possible to move on? Could they recover from this? He didn't have any answers to these questions and he feared what the result would be. Eventually, he too left his tent as the others started to wake up, and he began to busy himelf with work.

It was what he needed to do: keep busy. He checked the food supply, trying to determine if they would need to hunt. He checked the weapons, because even though there was no immediate threat upon them right now they had to be prepared for anything. He spoke to Marcus a bit, and then spent some time with Octavia -- upon her insistence of him needing to rest. They still managed to keep a bit busy, even if it was just doing less strenuous tasks. While he was standing with her and Lincoln, he noticed from the corner of his eye, Clarke enter their -- or what he hoped was still their -- tent. Something didn't seem right. He felt it, and saw it in the way she had moved. It could be that he was just overreacting, but whatever was convincing him otherwise, was strong enough to investigate. He parted himself from his sister and Lincoln, and made his way to the tent.

When he opened it and stepped inside, he'd arrive just in time to hear her words, saying that she couldn't do this anymore. Seeing her like this, hearing her speak the way she was . . . made his heart ache. She had stayed for him. She had stayed so that she could look after him, so that he didn't have to be alone. And he had not exactly been doing a good job of making her feel like she wasn't alone either. They were in this together; they did what they did at Mount Weather, together. And . . . he just couldn't bare to see her like this. He wasn't standing and watching for long before he moved to kneel down next to her. His arm draped around her as he gently pulled her toward him, gently nestling her against his chest. His hold was not overly strong, so that she could break free from it should she so desire. He didn't know if she would accept any comfort from him right now. Hell, he wouldn't blame her if she didn't. But he had to at least try.

His other hand gently stroked the back of her head, just holding her against him. She needed to cry; she needed to let it out. Everything that had built up inside of her. He could hear her sobs, feel her tears and the trembling of her body. He hadn't done anything to help her through this . . . nothing to show her that he was here for her. Yet, she had done everything for him. The guilt and disgust he felt for himself made him feel sick. She deserved far better than this. Far better than him. Which was why his words should have not been said. He loved her but he had only hurt her. "It's ok," he whispered in as soft of a voice as his natural tone could hold. "Everythings going to be ok, Clarke," he added on in the same tone and volume. They would get through this, just like they got through everything else. She was the strongest person he knew; the strongest one here. And she had been through hell. She needed this, and deserved so much better.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke felt helpless when someone – Bellamy – pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t react, couldn’t push them off, even if she wanted to. Her hands raised and frozen she didn’t know what to do. For just a moment even the sobs died in her throat as Bellamy held her against his chest, as his strong arms held her as if he could protect her against the world. But eventually she accepted his comforting gesture. Her hands dug into his shirt, probably lightly scratching his chest as she just held onto it. She wanted to be so small, small enough to disappear for good, but this world would not allow her to, no matter what, no matter how little people wanted her around. It seemed like her job was not yet done. They still needed someone to make those kinds of decisions for them, to break under the weight they were willing to put on their shoulders. She knew she already broke. She felt it in every tear that soaked Bellamys shirt now. She felt it in the way she clung to his shirt, in the way her body shivered and shook against him, despite how much pain had just been added to her burden by realizing that she was not even good enough for him. Not even good enough for her own mother. The blonde was sure there was no way she would ever forget the way she looked at her. She couldn’t run away from any of it. She could not be good enough in anyones eyes. She wanted to go back, back to the time when she was good enough for someone, when someone looked at her like she hung the moon and stars into the sky.

“I want my dad.” She sobbed into Bellamys chest. He was dead. Her mother killed him and almost her as well. And she had killed so many, but her dad was gone. There was no way she could ever be held by him again. There was no way her mother would hold her again without anything standing between them. They couldn’t go back in time, no matter how much she wanted to. There was nothing she could undo anymore. She had to live with herself, with who she became, whoever that was. It felt like she was falling apart, like everything holding her together in that moment were Bellamys arms and that in itself hurt, because Clarke was so used to holding herself together, yet she couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t fair. None of it was, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart. It would only confirm to everyone what she already knew they thought. Still shaking she tried to let go of Bellamy. Clarke uselessly wiped at her eyes in order to dry them but new tears followed. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t…. I know you don’t want….” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, how she wanted to make him understand that he didn’t need to be there for her. If he didn’t want to be there for her, she would not force him to and given his words yesterday and earlier, she shouldn’t even be here. She didn’t even know where to go, but she deserved that. Maybe she should go to Tondc and announce what she and Lexa had done. Maybe she should welcome her punishment, but she was scared. She just didn’t know where to go anymore, where up or down was or … who she was. “I’ll make sure not to let this happen again.” She certainly wouldn’t bother him with her pain anymore. He had enough to deal with by himself. She could deal with this by herself. She had to. Just then, still with him, she felt so terribly lonely that more tears escaped her. “I should… get food and tea for us.” Or she should leave. She just knew she had to do something, to make herself busy before she lost it again.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He remained uncertain as to how she would react to his hold of her, to his attempt to comfort her -- all too aware of the magnitude in which he'd hurt her by his confession. But soon enough, she embraced it. She clung on to him, and it only made him hold her closer to him still, as his hand continued to stroke her head. It broke his heart, any woman's cry did. But especially Clarke's. She was strong and often kept it all in . . . but she had reached her breaking point. Perhaps this would be good, for her to let it all out. For her to unleash the pain and sorrow that had filled her to this point.

The ache in his heart only grew when she spoke of how she wanted her dad. He didn't know a great deal about her relationship with her father . . . but he knew enough to know that the two were close. Losing a parent was never easy and there was nothing Bellamy could do to ease that loss for her. Relatability wouldn't help right now. So he didn't say anything. He just continued to caress her, letting her say whatever she needed to say in this moment, and letting her cry because damn it, she had every right to. Her next words struck a chord of curiosity within him as she said that she knew he didn't want . . . what? Her? This? He loved her, nothing changed that, nor would it ever change. If anything, his feelings for her had grown over time rather than diminish. It became truly impossible to remain silent when she said she would make sure this didn't happen again.

"Don't apologize for anything," he began to say. "You're allowed to show your emotions Clarke. You're allowed to cry." He knew she didn't need his permission for anything, but it was mroe of a reminder than anything else. He didn't release her when she suggested getting tea and food for him. He knew that tactic all too well. He used it before, many times: busying himself to serve as a distraction, so that he didn't have to deal with his true emotions. "No," he protested. "Just, stay here. Let it all out." He continued to move his hand up and down the back of her head, fingers gently weaving into her golden locks. "Cry, scream, yell, do whatever you need to do right now. It's not weakness. It's not anything but showing that you're human." He knew all too well that idea that emotions were weakness, but considering what she had been through, this was not weakness. She was not weak. Not ever.

[Clarke Griffin]

“What I need is something I can’t have.” It was a lot of things she couldn’t have. She wanted to go back, in time. To redo everything. To protect the people she cared about from being killed. Clarke wanted to retrace her steps and find out where she went wrong, because obviously at one point she had gone wrong somewhere. But where? And why? And how? What had set it in motion? At one point she had gone one step to far and she could no longer turn around and fix herself. No, what she needed was something she couldn’t have. She doubted she could be repaired. And she didn’t deserve it. With so many people thinking she wasn’t good enough, they must be on to something, right? She was just not good enough. It was the simple truth, wasn’t it? She just wasn’t good enough for anything but to be the one to make the hard decisions for her people. While Clarke still shed tears her sobs quieted. She needed to pull herself together. The damaged girl she was could not resurface ever again. Whoever she was, needed to be, that was to be her reality now, wasn’t it? However she was going to pull it off. All she knew she couldn’t go out to face the others in the morning. She’d… busy herself around the tent. She’d make it homely. But maybe she should talk to Bellamy before that. Because she didn’t even know if she was still welcome here.

“Bellamy. I need you to be honest with me.” She began. She was still in his arms, both palms now pressed to his chest, ready to push him away and get her things, the very few belongings of her. Clarke knew then and there where to go and how final it would be, but she knew she couldn’t tell him her destination. Wanting her or not, he’d stop her or try to. But her mind was set. She would only stay here if there was a chance to …. Keep at least the friendship, even if she would forever know she was just not good enough. He had feelings for her but it didn’t matter because she wasn’t enough. He was the one person with whom she up until a day ago she felt like she could be enough. And she was wrong. “Should I stay here or leave? I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore. I can just… you know sleep somewhere else. It’s not big deal. But I want to know if I’m still welcome here.” Maybe it was more than just a question if she was welcome in this tent. Maybe part of her wanted to hear if this, all of this could one day be good again, even though she knew deep down that nothing could be fixed anymore. It would never be good anymore, not with the people around… and she feared her relationship with Bellamy could never go back to the friendship it used to be. She lost it all. Another sob escaped her. The tears were back. She didn’t want to lose her friend through all of this. She spent those nights by his side praying he’d survive, praying she wouldn’t lose him, yet she had. In a different way, but she lost him. She really should go. 

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She told him that what she needed, was something she couldn't have. He could take a few guesses at what that was. He had offered her forgiveness -- much in the same way she had when he'd been planning on leaving -- but he also knew that desire to retrace ones steps. To want to go back and do things over with a new found perspective of being aware of the repercussions and finding a different way. He wanted to give her what she needed . . . but he doubted he could.

So he didn't ask, not yet anyway. She distracted his thoughts with her saying she wanted him to be honest. Her question was not one that he needed to think twice about. He knew the answer, and a fear began to creep up in him. The only reason she had come back, was because he had collapsed. But until that moment, she had been set on leaving. He didn't want her to, knowing that he wasn't reason enough for her to stay . . . well, when he was healthy that is.

He slowly drew his head back, only so that he could look at her while he spoke. So that she knew that his words were sincere. "You have never been a burden to me, Clarke. And you aren't one right now." Hell if anything, he was the burden considering what had happened. He didn't even want her to sleep somewhere else. "You being here . . . made me feel like I could breathe. Like I wasn't suffocating or drowning." In all the pain he felt and all the suffering he had caused. He knew it was an odd thing to say, coming out of a coma, but he had been conscious longer than unconscious, and he wouldn't have gotten through it without her. "I don't want you to go." But he couldn't force her to stay.

"I want us to get through this together." He had never wanted her to be alone in dealing with the consequences . . . and the thought of her wandering through the woods . . . it was unsettling. And made him all the more afraid. He had pleaded with her before not to leave, but it had been to no avail. However, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try again. He leaned toward her, his lips gently brushing against her tear stained cheeks before he spoke in a low whisper against her ear. "Please, stay with me." He didn't just want her to stay, he wanted her to stay with him. He knew it was selfish of him, but he couldn't stop the words from coming out. He needed her. He needed her to stay.

[Clarke Griffin]

He made no sense. He made no sense to her anymore. She listened to what he said, tears still streaming down her face as she looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of him saying the truth or not. He seemed to say his truth, but it just didn’t make sense to her. She wasn’t enough for him to be with, but he spoke in words that suggested otherwise, but then it made no sense anymore. A lot of things didn’t make sense, but this was stressful. She didn’t want anything to be stressful. She wanted things to be normal, to make sense, at least between them. But he said she made him feel like he could breathe, that he wanted them to get through this together and that she should stay with him, when at the same time it appeared like he didn’t want her. Maybe he wanted to preserve the friendship they had. Maybe that could be saved then. But she… she just didn’t understand anymore and she didn’t know if it was because he made no sense anymore or if it was because she genuinely just couldn’t follow anymore. Maybe she was too broken to even understand that. Maybe it was all her. And maybe she should speak up. She would stay for him. He was probably the only person who could ask her to stay and make her stay now. If only she could understand. If… Clarke pushed herself a way. She needed the space. She needed to be able to run and turn around and to hold herself when she asked this. She walked to their joined beds – she had to change something about that in the morning, about position and all that. Clarke sat down on it.

“Why are you saying this, Bellamy? You… say this like I matter to you. You made it so clear that I’m not good enough to you, no matter what, so…. If this is just to make me stay… I don’t get it, what you want. I just want to understand what you want. I don’t understand.” And she wanted to. She wanted things to make sense. She needed things to make sense. Her life needed to make sense, when what she felt didn’t anymore, but it appeared like she was meant to have no control anymore. The lack of control drained her last bit of power. She felt weak, drained even, but after an outbreak like that, was that not to be expected. Now, though, she had started this conversation and she intended to go through with it as she wanted to understand. “What do you want from me? What do you expect from me? Who am I supposed to be for you?”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

When she moved away from him, he didn't follow. He continued to sit there, trying to determine what it meant that she pulled away when he once again pleaded with her to stay. He imagined it wasn't a good sign. She then asked him something, and stated a few things following it, that made him pause and look at her. He didn't understand. He quickly tried to think back on what he said and did that made her feel and think this way . . . the only words coming to mind was his confession that he loved her. But, why would it prompt her to say all this? "Of course you matter to me," he said, wanting to immediately dismiss any doubt she may have in this.

"Why would you think otherwise?" The words were only somewhat rhetorical, for he truly didn't understand why she thought he thought so poorly of her. "Clarke, where is this coming from?" He added on. "You're more than good enough, you're better than good." Better than what he deserved. That was part of the whole reason he had not expected anything in return for his words. "I know that admitting how I . . . feel about you wasn't fair to you, but I don't think any of this." The words of how he did feel, and how he perceived her were coming out with unusual ease. Perhaps it was in desperation to convince her that he didn't think so low of her. His gut was telling him that his earlier words had something to do with what she was saying now. "I just, want you to be yourself. You never have to be anyone else. Not to me." He loved her for who she was . . . yet it didn't seem that he had done a good job of making her feel loved, even as just a friend.

[Clarke Griffin]

“No it’s not… It’s not that.” Admitting to it was not the problem. How could it be? First he said it when he was out of it. Had he just brushed it off as him falling into a coma, she could have just gone on like that. Had he not remembered, she could have just gone on like that as well. But what happened between them was the problem. He said she was enough, but she couldn’t believe it. Not after what happened. At the same time this was Bellamy. He wouldn’t lie to her. He had no reason to lie to her. Clarke was so confused. Why could this not just make sense? Part of her just wanted to flop to the side and sleep, because she still felt so drained. But if she ran from this again, it would probably only create more tension and it would end up with her leaving the tent, if not the entire camp, because he was all that held her there at the moment.

“You were out of it, I… had you said you didn’t mean it, that you didn’t love me like that, I would have understood, but… you brushed it off like it just doesn’t matter and… what I had to say about that or what I felt about it didn’t matter at all.” Then again it really shouldn’t he made up his mind and that was it. Maybe she should go, give them space for a day or two before she could get back. Or maybe she should really just sleep. Instead she reached for the blanket to wrap it around herself. “If it’s not me, what is it? What’s the problem, Bellamy? You're usually the one person I understand and now... I can't anymore. Help me understand.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She told him that his admittance wasn't the problem. He would have asked what was, but she elaborated. He silently listened, as she was struggling to understand his reasons for seeming to suggest one thing, but now saying another. "It's not that it didn't matter," he began to say in a quiet voice. He wished it was that easy; to just say that he hadn't meant it. To say that he didn't actually remember and leave it at that. But he wouldn't be a coward. He said what he said and he had to stand by it, even if it resulted in this. He wouldn't lie to Clarke. She deserved the truth and telling her that he didn't mean his words . . . that wouldn't have been true.

"But I didn't . . ." He lightly shook his head, trying to form the words. He had never been in love, and thus, never told a woman he loved her and now . . . it was all the more difficult to vocally express his feelings and what he held in his heart. Though if there was one woman he could reveal that to, it was Clarke. "Expect anything back." He needed to explain that more, he knew that much. She said that what she had to say or how she felt didn't matter, well that wasn't entirely true. "You've been through a lot Clarke." Losing Finn, Mount Weather, and everything else that happened . . . it was a lot.

"And what I said, wasn't meant to put you in a awkward position. I didn't want you to feel pressured to say anything back. Because I get it. I know. We're friends and damn it, I value you as one. I don't want to lose that. Whatever I feel for you . . . you don't have to feel the same way. I didn't want you to feel that you needed to reciprocate." He wasn't naive enough to believe that she loved him, and that was why he had just tried to move on from his words. Because he didn't want to ruin what they had nor make her feel . . . uncomfortable about the idea of him being in love. "How you feel, does matter. Of course it does. If you want to tell me now, then tell me. Just know that I get you don't feel the same way. And . . . there's no pressure to." He didn't want to make things more complicated for her. She had been planning on leaving. She had wanted to escape this to heal on her own. He didn't have any expectations when it came to this. She stayed for him, she saved his life . . . there was nothing more he could ask for.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke finally looked up at him again. It seemed he understood as little as she did. Then again this was not something that was easy to understand. It was something they could afford not understanding or maybe they couldn’t. In this world death could be waiting for them around every corner. One of the people in here wanted to kill Bellamy. They weren’t safe anywhere. Politics, dangers, all of that killed so many people. Clarke herself had killed so many people. Every day was a fight for their life, one that she knew she would not win forever, because she had no reason to. Right now she held on, because with her life she could still protect others and if that should remain her only purpose so be it. But once her death would protect them, she’d gladly give her life and never look back on her decision, not that she could then. He really didn’t get it.

“Why do you think this is upsetting me? If I didn’t care about Bellamy, I would have shrugged it off like you did. I would have just nodded and moved on and never said anything. But this hurts. You’re…. this hurts, a lot. If you had let me say something then, I would have. You don’t get it, do you?” This was so frustrating. Neither of them could protect themselves from what they felt, it seemed. “It hurts because I love you, Bellamy. It hurts because I would have told you ‘I love you, too’, because I do. When you were in Mount Weather, do you want to know how Lexa got me to do things? By using you. Every decision she made me do, even the decision to let the bomb drop on Tondc and not evacuate has been in one way or another motivated by my need to keep you safe. She knew the way to get to me was through you, even you’re not there.” Clarke toed off her shoes. She really didn’t want to stay upright anymore. It was maybe an instinct, but Clarke just let herself fall to the side where she curled up, blanket hiding almost all of her now.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Oh. Well . . . just, oh. Bellamy was rendered silent by her confession, not having expected it. The thought that she could love him back was . . . well, one he had always considered too good to be true. Yet here she was, telling him. His mind was trying to process it, letting it all sink in. Allowing his heart to swell with an emotion he had never experienced before. With everything they had done . . . this was something good. Finally, something good. Or he at least hoped it would be. While this was the first time he was exchanging proclomations of love, he imagined it wasn't supposed to seem so . . . tense. Though he blamed himself for that. She was right. He hadn't given her the chance to respond.

The fear and assumption of rejection had taken over and he had not wanted to hear any response of pity or remorse. But how wrong his assumption was. And he wanted to make it right. He remained silent, moving cloesr to her as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. With his free hand, he began to slowly pull back the blanket a little so that he could see some of her face, even if she didn't want to show him.

He tilted his head to the side to see her better as well. He wanted to make this right. "Clarke, I love you." He had always intended to keep this words bottled up, having only released them when he was dazed and delirious. But now that he said them, it felt . . . right. He loved her. He was in love with her. And she apparently, loved him in return. Now was a chance to say that to one another. In everything that they had been through, everything they had endured . . . this could be something that they stood united on. He loved her. He loved Clarke Griffin.