I can't lose you

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy loved seeing these new expressions from Clarke. The almost shy smile, the way she looked right before and after they kissed. It was an unexplored intimacy between them, and he found himself rather eager to engage in more of it. The tender kisses, the holding of each other, knowing that they loved each other . . . it almost felt surreal. Finally, a light in the world of darkness that had threatened to consume them. She assured him that she didn't need any help, and that she needed to get started so had to speak to Kane. Bellamy smiled and gave a nod as he watched her hurry out of the tent.

He had to admit he was curious to see what she was up to, but not enough to pry. He then dressed for the day and departed the tent. It was the first day he had woken up without feeling sick, and he wanted to take advantage of that. He first went to see Octavia, and spent a bit of time with her. Upon her insistence, he went with her to medical to get a check up. Lincoln joined them there and the news was good; his body was rid of practically all of the poison. They still hadn't found who was repsonsible for the poisoning, and it continued to make Bellamy feel uneasy. Because he feared another attack from the person . . . not on himself, but on someone else.

It was not safe to keep a person like that in camp and Bellamy was worried about what it meant for the other Arkers. He then busied himself, helping with the food rations, determining when the next hunt would have to take place. He checked on the others, spending a bit of time with them before checkong on the others who may not be physically wounded, but still needed healing in an emotional and psychological way. He hadn't seen Clarke all day and by the time dinner came around, he wasn't even sure if she had eaten. After helping hand out the food, he took two plates in his hands, checking with Abby if she had seen Clarke. When she hadn't, Bellamy's eyes casually scanned the camp, and decided to look in their tent to see if she was there.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke did not end up working alone, despite intending to. She had gone to Kane to ask him about what she would be able to take for the now permanent tent for her and Bellamy – a symbol and sign for him, to reassure him and her and ultimately their people that she would stay. A lot in her still screamed to run, but she would work on that. She had to, for Bellamy if not for herself. In any case not working alone on her project was surprisingly welcome in Kanes case. They worked in silence initially, tearing down the tent and building it up again, this time a bit bigger, more structured. While Clarke was working on the bed – long after lunchtime – and Kane on the fabric covering the floor, the man spoke to her for the first time since they started their task. Clarke could not see him, due to see through curtains not separating the sleeping part of the tent from what would be the living part of it, hiding the fact from view, that Clarke had turned two beds into a large one as she was stuffing the mattress. She simply listened to him, but his words barely touched her yet. They might when she stopped, but for now she had a mission. They had more pillows than Camp Jaha could need so Clarke placed a liberal amount of them on the bed, knowing they might come in handy one day, given how prone to injuries they were down here.

In the end Kane an her build something like a couch and a table with two chairs, for work or to eat. They built a chest to store things in and they officially got assigned a closet from the ark. A carpet was covering the fabric on the floor, more pillows were on the floor, in case of people needing to come to them, sit with them, stay with them. Their bed was surrounded by more fabric, so the light could stay out for a bit longer in the morning. Her finishing touch was a rainwater tank outside of the tent, next to where she wanted to have a fireplace. If anyone would need to stay with them, they would need water and fire. The blond was just about to light the lamps in the tent, when she heard rustling outside.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The second Bellamy stepped inside the tent, he froze. The shock of what he was seeing numbed him. His eyes slowly scanned over the tent that had been completely transformed. It looked like . . . a home. A real home. The bed looked thicker than before, the pillows over it added a comfort. The carpets, a comfyness . . . and Bellamy didn't miss the table, chairs and chest. There was what looked to be a water tank and . . . he just couldn't speak. If he wasn't so still with surprise, he would have given himself props for not dropping the plates that were still clutched in his hands. He couldn't believe it.

So this was what Clarke had spent the day doing? He should have helped her but . . . he wasn't even really thinking about that right now either. Truth be told, this looked even more luxurious than the apartment he had grown up in on the Ark. It felt, homey. Comfy. Cozy. Luxurious. So many other things that Bellamy would not have expected to embrace while being down on Earth. He didn't deserve it, but he couldn't object right now either.

 "What the . . . hell." That was all that had come out in amidst of his surprise. If it was anyone else, he would have wondered if he was getting relocated to another tent. But this was Clarke. And she had done this for him. No. For them. Because that bed she had made was not for one person. And the idea fo them being in here together, made it all the more special. "I can't believe you did this," he added on. It truly took a lot to genuinely surprise Bellamy, and leave him in this state of nearly being rendered speechless. But Clarke had managed it. She had acheieved it, because he was just frozen in place, unsure what to say or do other than stare at what looked to be their perfect home.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke felt it in her bones, the way she had actually worked this day. She felt what she did and it was a glorious thing. Her muscles were slightly weak, wanting to refuse more movement, just craving rest. But this time it was for a very good reason. She was, in a way… well nesting. Could it be called nesting? Probably, because in the widest and broadest sense of the word it was the number one word for it. She wasn’t pregnant, of course, but she did have this instinct or urge to build a home, not for her newborn, but for her hand Bellamy, so in a way, for their newborn relationship, if it was one or for her and his fragile state of mind. Maybe his helpless state helped bring that instinct on. Maybe it was just an instinct deeply rooted within her. She was caring and whatever happened around her resulted in this need and instinct to just nest without even being pregnant. It had no other use than to well give them a home, a proper home in this unsteady and painful word.

His reaction was a reward despite the lack of words. This was Bellamy after all. He was no poet, despite having his moments. Clarke smirked at him. It felt good to, well see his surprise. It seemed to be a good surprise. “Well, I wanted to do this.” Nope she needed to do this. “I figured if we’re to tell our people this is to be our home, we needed to start it.” That was a much more logical explanation, but didn’t describer her damn urge to take care of him nor the nesting. Clarke noticed how this was even good for her. Right now, though, this was it for them, their home. “The other tent was just provisional. I wanted something… permanent. First because it’s something for us. Secondly, to ensure you know I will stay, with you and for you. And lastly: We needed a home. We lost so much, parts of ourselves, it’s…. time we got a home, don’t you think?” Clarke wandered over to the bed. She pulled the curtains before it to hide it. “It comes with privacy and place for our friends and well for us. What do you think?” Clarke noticed the food, though she didn’t comment on it. That was why they had a table and chairs now. She could just… take one of their candles and light it and make it ridiculously romantic. And that was exactly what she did then. With a candle lighted on the table, all they needed was the food on there, too.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy wasn't sure the last time he was left so speechless over something good. Usually it was in the face of fear, scared shock, or any other negative situation that rendered him so wordless. But right now . . . it was something good. Something great, that left him in such a state. And truth be told, he didn't know how to process it. Fortunately, Clarke knew him well enough and continued to speak. He took in each and every word, the meaning of it, the comfort it gave him. Our home. That phrase alone. Something that they shared. Something that was theirs. They deserved it, after everything. Yet also hearing that it was a sign to indicate she was staying . . . it reassured him.

He knew she said she was, but also knew that had it not been for him collapsing, she would have left. She was staying, for him. And it meant more to him than he could ever say. He was still taking in the sight of everything. The layout, the bed, the curtains, her explanation . . . he truly couldn't say a single word that would show just how powerfully this affected him. For the first time since arriving on Earth, he felt like he had a home. No, it went further back than that.

Since losing his mother and Octavia, for he had lost his home then. He had only been living in the confines of four walls for a year. But Clarke now gave him a home again. A home with her. She was asking him a question, before she began to set the table with candles. She was really doing far more than he deserved, and he was too damn selfish to stop her. He wasn't sure how long he had just been standing there, staring. Not at their home, but at her, with soft intent in his eyes. "I think," he breathed, his tongue running over his lips, trying to ease the dryness of them so he could talk. "You're pretty damn amazing." She was the first woman he loved; the first he ever wanted to be in a romantic relationship with.

And he knew that no matter what happened, she would be the last too. Because right now, he couldn't imagine himself with anyone else. He moved the food to the table and set it down, but only to free his hands. For the next thing he did was wrap them around Clarke to pull her close to him. He leaned forward, capturing her lips in a soft kiss, though reflecting what he felt in this moment. The gratitude. The amazement. The appreciation. And most importantly of all, the love he felt for her. He slowly pulled away, casually resting his forehead against hers as a small soft smile formed on his lips. "I love you," he told her, unable to say that enough. Finding the admittance and ability to say it so liberating. "So much," he added on, before gently kissing her lips again.

[Clarke Griffin]

“You are the pretty damn amazing one.” Clarke replied softly. Without him she would not have developed this desire. Without him she’d be lost. She wouldn’t ever have the hope of healing. Looking back she knew how wrong it was to think about leaving. This here, being with him, in close proximity at least was the only way she could ever hope to heal. This place was necessary for it too. It was sad but it was what they needed. They needed a home, a place where they knew they could be at peace at. They needed a place like that. Besides Clarke was pretty sure she would do a lot of hiding in the next days as well. She needed to regain the confidence to face their people. And then there was the whole deal with whoever tried to kill Bellamy.

For now though she was in Bellamys arms, he kissed her and she felt secure, safe, content and home. As soon as they pulled away, she placed her head on his shoulder, sighing against him. “And I you. I was so scared, Bellamy.” It didn’t even take that long before they kissed again. She was still lazily leaning against him, feeling drained, but very happy from her work all day. It was good. “I thought you wouldn’t be for it, that’s why I did it in secret. That you’d think the others needed it first, but… we needed it first. We can’t really help the others if we’re not okay, I learned that now. We have to be okay in order to help heal the others. Having a home should help us heal.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She suggested him being he amazing one -- something that he couldn't agree with, but the fact that she felt so, hearing her say it, filled him with pride. He wanted to be that for her. He wanted to be the one that she loved, that she cared for. After the hell they had both been through, they deserved that at the very least . . . didn't they? Each kiss against her lips was as if she was breathing life back into him. It was as if he hadn't been sick at all for she had brought him back to life. Physically, mentally, emotionally. The latter being one of the most significant ones. She told him she was scared and it only made him wrap his arms around her all the more, holding her against him as she elaborated.

She was right, about everything. Had she not done this for them, but only for him, he may not have so readily accepted it. But because it was for the two of them . . . he wanted to embrace it. "You're right," he told her in a low voice. "This is exactly what we need to heal." It would be a long process, but they could get through it. Together. "This is the perfect start to it," he added on, kissing the top of her head. How damn lucky was he, to fall in love with such a woman . . . but really, for her to love him back.

He didn't deserve it. After failing his mother, his sister, the people that he loved in the past . . . he didn't deserve to be loved like this. Bu he was too selfish to reject it. As he already acknowledged, he wanted to embrace this, all of it. "We do need this," he agreed, wanting her to know that he whole heartedly supported her in this. "You know, for the first time since coming, I feel like this place is home." That Earth was home. The dropship had been their home as well, but not in the same way. Not to this extent. "Speaking of taking care and healing, I brought us dinner. Something tells me you haven't had much to eat today." And he wanted to take care of her, just as she took care of him.

[Clarke Griffin]

“This place isn’t home.” Clarke whispered. It could not match her home. Her home was more fluid than a place. She had given up on a place being her home a while ago, when she had been put into prison, when she was sent to earth, when they burnt those many Grounders, when they killed those many Mountain Men. Her home was no place, not after everything, not after everything she gave for a single person, it would be an insult to who he truly was for her. “You are. You are my home.” Nobody else these days. He was everything, her home, her sanity. And she wanted him to know how important he was to her. It was a pale comparison. Clarke found herself blushing and slightly turning to look at the food, which only made the blush all the stronger, because this man was right. He was so perfectly right with his assessment. 

“You might be right.” She admitted then. She just hadn’t eaten at all. How was she to admit that to him? It was the truth, but not exactly one he would approve of. That was just Bellamy. God damn it. She could imagine him getting a bit pissed, especially since she had urged him to eat while he was down, not she was not eating herself. “I haven’t eaten anything. Sorry.” It was nerves, but now she was hungry, famished even. She really wanted to eat, but Clarke suspected the sudden appetite to be his fault. Not that she was about to complain. 

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke began by saying that this place wasn't home. There was something in her tone that indicated there was more to her statement. That it wasn't a rejection of the place she had created for them. When she continued on to elaborate, he felt his heart swell with pride and honor. He felt the exact same way. She was his home. They said home is where the heart is, and his heart belonged to her. He had felt that deprivation when his mother had been floated and Octavia imprisoned of lacking affection in their apartment.

It hadn't been a home. For the longest time, his home had been tied to his family . . . the only people he thought capable of loving and who could love him. But Clarke had changed all that. She had showed him -- knowingly or not -- what it was to love someone and be loved, in a romantic way rather than a familial one. It was a new feeling, a new dynamic for him . . . the start of a new life. And he wanted to embrace it all, everything that it may entail. He couldn't find the words to say in this moment. Only a soft smile remained on his lips as he looked at her ardently. She confirmed that he had been right in his assumption that she hadn't eaten.

"You took care of me this past little while," he began to say, ushering her to sit down. "Now let me take care of you." By making sure she ate. Rested. Did whatever she needed to in order to take care of herself. It was in her nature to care for others, to prioritize them . . . hell it was something that he loved about her. But he wouldn't let her do it at her own expense. "First dinner in our new home," he said with a smile. "I like it." To asy the very least. He set her plate in front of the chair he had urged her to sit on, making sure she was relaxed and that she would eat before he intended to join her.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh as the man all but ushered her to sit, reminding her of workers on farm, trying to get some of the few farm animals into order. She still giggled at the sheer mental image of him shooing a few flightless birds around like it was the most important thing in the world. Clarke sat down, the smile still on her lips. Though it disappeared when she saw the food. Her appetite vanished just with it, as her mind wandered to what had happened before: He had been poisoned. With his food. That’s why they had only brought him food. What… if there was more of it. Clarke stared at the food he was just placing before here and the other plate, the offending plate. 

The blonde looked up when he mentioned it was the first dinner in their new home. He was right. It was. At that she just had to smile. It was exactly that, their new home, the first meal. He wanted to take care of her and she didn’t want to take away from that, as she had the feeling like he felt he needed to do that. But what was she supposed to do? She just felt uneasy looking at the food. Clarke tried to help it. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. Clarke reached for his plate as he sat. She pulled it to her and carefully exchanged just a few parts on their plate, making it evenly shared. If someone tried to poison him again, she would be poisoned as well and it would lessen the amount of poison in there. Clarke found herself blushing. She opened her mouth to say something. “Sorry.” She whispered.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy could see the visible difference in her expression, the former smile sobering into a more serious expression. He didn't ask though. Not right away. Instead, he just watched her carefully, trying to gather what he could of her shift. She reached out for his plate and started to put a bit of it onto hers. He suddenly understood why. And . . . it made him uneasy. The thought of how easy it had been to poison one of them. The possibility that it could easily happen again. But . . . not to her.

He couldn't let it happen to her. She was always the more logical one out of the two of them. He, the more emotional one. So right now, it was his emotions that got the better of him, as he reached out for her plate, and pulled it away for a moment. It wasn't to help fuel the paranoia, it was the realization of her rational thought . . . and the possibility that if his food continued to be poison, she would get sick too. He didn't want that for her. Not because of him.

"Maybe for a while, we should prepare our own food. Or at least supervise who's making it," he said at an attempt of a joke . . . but was lacking the full humor. Because, he felt that it actually might be necessary. He looked at her plate, now mixed with the content of his own. He could test it now, but it wouldn't make a difference because the poison didn't have an immediate effect. "You shouldn't have done that," he told her, yet knew that he would have done the exact same thing. Now, they were left with potentially poisoned food, both shared on their plates.

[Clarke Griffin]

She agreed. They should prepare their own food or just take the food from someone they could completely trust. Like her mother, like Kane. But even then, some of their friends had given them the food. Some of her friends had attacked Bellamy unknowingly, because they had given him the poisoned food, not even knowing what it was. Who was to say the same wouldn’t happen for her mother and Kane. Besides they had better things to do, more important things. So instead, Clarke agreed. They should make their own food. “We should get and store food here then. We have enough room for that.”

They had just survived this one attempt – Clarke was thinking of them as they because she had been there, too. She had been through it with him. She watched him almost die. They had overcome their problems and they were now together. They had survived this, against all odds. They shouldn’t have survived this yet they did and she was proud. “I had to. We’re in this together. And you’re still not fully recovered. If it was poisoned, the doses will be split. We can handle it together, Bell.” Together seemed to slowly become their thing, she thought, before stealing a piece of meat from the plate and soving it into his mouth. Clarke grinned around it. “Now it’s too late.”

Bellamy Blake