I can't lose you

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Feeling her head against his shoulder felt . . . better than he knew it probably should. Considering his feelings toward her though, it wasn't all too surprising. He felt her shoulder move, glancing down to see that she was eating the food. He had better follow suit. He put a bit in his mouth, though still didn't feel very hungry for it. Her next words made him feel even less hungry. His collapsing had only prolonged the inevitable it seemed. He could tell she was trying to change the subject, but he couldn't focus on anything else . . . apart from that nagging fear of her leaving.

It was hard enough saying goodbye to her once. How could he say it again? "You're still going then?" He both questioned and stated, for somehow, he knew the answer. Carrots, chocolate, salt . . . he couldn't talk about that. Even if she was trying to avoid the subject, he couldn't. He wanted to be prepared, or maybe he just wanted to try and convince her. What if he woke up one day and she had just left? "What can I do to convince you to stay?" He asked, desperate to do anything he could. What did he need to die for her to stay with their people? Everyone needed her here, including him . . . though his own need was far beyond simply fulfilling the role of a co-leader. It was more, emotional. More than he dared to admit to anyone, including her. Would that even make a difference?

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke froze at his question or statement. Was that what he took from her tease? Damn it. That was not what she had in mind. She tried to lighten the mood, yet it seemed to be down. It felt like she had to make a final decision and she did. He wanted her to stay, desperately, even now. She had had the chance to leave earlier, but couldn’t, because of him. She had the chance twice and she still couldn’t. “Bellamy, stop.” She needed him to stop wit this topic. “I will not leave. I’m staying. For good.” For you, she added in her mind. 

“I…thought it’s for the better, that it’s better if they don’t see me, if they can heal without me, even if it means I won’t heal. They all in one way or another blame me.” She was willing to do whatever it took for them to heal. To be here, with him, though, she knew she could be healed, slowly, but only if he was there. Clarke placed her hand on his leg. “I will stay, I promise. I’m staying. No more convincing, no more worrying. I am staying. You will see me in this bed over there every morning until you no longer want me to be there. Which could be tomorrow, should I snore.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke told him to stop, and he feared what words would come next. But instead, she told him -- assured him -- that she would not leave. As she continued to speak . . . words could not describe the relief that filled his entire body, mind, and heart. He hated that things seemed that way; that she took on all the blame. He had wanted to avoid that, to avoid her carrying the burden alone. Which was why he had placed his hand over hers the day they killed the citizens of Mount Weather. But she was promising him. Saying that she would stay, that she would be in the extra bed -- unless she snored. A tease that had been brought up again, one that this time, he could properly react to.

Or would have had the relief not been dominating all else right now. He may not believe in fate, but he was sure as hell glad that he had collapsed when he did. Because if it was further reason for Clarke to stay -- reason or realization -- then he was all too relieved for it. The thought of her leaving and now hearing she would stay was too much to contain. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, his lips remaining in a lingering embrace, taking in the softness of her skin. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but by no means was that a bad thing. Quite the opposite in fact. He closed his eyes as his lips slowly moved toward her ear, resting against it as he spoke directly in it. "Thank you," he whispered deeply. Whether she was staying for him or not, he was grateful. Her staying basically ensured his own survival. He needed her. He needed her so damn badly and he couldn't do this, any of this, without her.

[Clarke Griffin]

Now that was something she really did not expect, a soft kiss to her cheek, lingering, sending sparks through her that made her feel something she hadn’t felt in way too long: Alive. He had no idea what he was doing, did he? He had no idea how important it was for her that he was here, that he wanted her to be around him. She wanted to be there for him. She wanted to see him heal, to see him lead his people again, their people. She wanted him to be okay, not to suffer from what they all had to do. She needed him to be okay. Then she might be okay as well. She needed him. “Thank you, Bellamy.” It was a heavy silence, at least it felt heavy to her. They really need to lighten the mood. Suddenly she had an idea how.

“You know what? A few months ago, after a long day of work, I would have dragged you home with me, made you stay over, wear PJs and watch movies with me while we eat ridiculous snacks.” God she kind of wanted that now: PJs, the comfort of just watching something, sitting in a comfortable silence with him, but she knew that was not possible here. They’d have to find a replacement, somehow. 

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She was thanking him when he knew she didn't have to, but nor did he argue it. He drew his head back to look at her, her words causing a slight smile to form on his lips. The idea of . . . well, having a slumber party of sorts sounded so, impossible. And yet, one that he had wished was possible at the same time. It sounded so far from complicated, which was what their lives had become. "I think we got the ridiculous snacks covered over here," he told her, though ridiculous in another way.

Their snack selection was rather limited in this place. As for the movies . . . "Think we would have been friends on the Ark?" He asked almost jokingly. They had both been very different people up there, forced to become something else on Earth. And that transformation, was what had bonded them. He wondered if they would have actually got along on the Ark, had they crossed paths up there. She was part of the privileged class, while he wasn't. It would make any mingling between them even more unlikely. "Since we don't have movies, we could always play Hangman," he suggested a bit kiddingly. The thought of playing games after everything . . . sounded almost too good, too relaxing to be a possibility.

[Clarke Griffin]

“That we do.” They were horrible, but okay. They needed to get other food again. Even their camp food was so much better than this. Honestly, the 100 of them could do better at sustaining themselves, than the people here. Maybe those kids could teach the grown ups a lesson about food. They would have to see about that. Clarke actually grinned at his question. Given how well they eventually got along, probably. “Well, Bellamy, the question is: Would we have met? Because if we would have met, I think we would have been friends on the Ark too.” Then again life was a bitch and they couldn’t have met. Down here life made their union and friendship so much stronger. “I personally never really gave a shit about privileged and all that.” He knew that now, didn’t he? 

“That sounds like a great idea!” They should do that, distract themselves and play a game. But since they didn’t have something like hangman. Clarke grinned. “Truth or Dare?” It was innocent enough, if they kept it that way and it could be nice. They could get to know each other more and have a bit of fun with small funny dares. “Does that sound good to you? A little game until we’re both really tired?”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She was posing a fairly good question: would they have met. And she believed that they would have been friends on the Ark as well. It had been difficult for Bellamy to have any friends really, when he had devoted his life to protecting his sister. "I was a janitor before being on the guard," he explained. "So you never know," he added on with a bit of a smirk. She went on to explain that she never cared about being privileged . . . which was not a common mindset. Some of the privileged believed themselves to be better than others, and Bellamy had both witnesses and experienced that.

Most those who were sent down were not from the privileged category; Clarke and Wells had been the main ones. "Unfortunately, not many share that state of mind," he said, speaking aloud his thoughts. "But it was pretty clear where you stood down here." She didn't seem to discriminate, nor did it seem like the leadership role she had attained was due to her believing she was better than anyone else. If she felt that way, then she never would have suggested working together. Her suggestion of truth or dare caused him to look at her with part smirk, part look of disbelief. The idea sounded . . . oddly intriguing. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," he stated with a slight shake of his head. But alas, he was. "You wanna go first?" He suggested, taking another bite of his food with ease. The thought of playing a game . . . well, it allowed them a semblance of normalcy, even if only for a brief time.

[Clarke Griffin]

“I’m not many, am I?” She had grown up around her dad, who was a funny man in himself, but she loved him, she learned from him. Her mother was her own story as well. With them being privileged actually never really mattered, which made it easy for her not to act like it. And then she had always known her on earth that she was just like the others: She had been meant to die, but she had more information about the situation and told them about those. That was it. That was all the difference it made. Down here she was no privileged, she was fighting for survival like the others… and making the hard decisions for them, which made them despise her, rightfully so. 

“Okay. Uhm…” They were actually doing this, playing a game, like they had not been through hell and back. It was refreshing. Clarke moved away from him, the undo her boots. Sitting crosslegged now, she looked at him. She needed to go easy first, she thought. “Mh. Truth or Dare. Truth would be… what’s your birthday? And Dare…” What could she dare him to? She did not want him to endanger himself just be funny and… oh. OH. “Dunk a piece of that cookie-thing into that isotonic essence over there and eat it.” The drink was meant to hydrate them, so the people really didn’t care about the taste since they also mixed it with water. But it was usually a bitter lemony taste.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She asked that she was not many, and he figured she already knew the answer to that, but he responded anyway. "No," he told her. She certainly was not. Here, class meant nothing for they were all in the same situation. And rank, well, it worked in a very different way. There had to be leadership for some order, but they were not dictators. They didn't punish every crime -- big or small -- by death.

Deciding to focus on the game, he listened as she presented him with an option for truth and an option for a dare. "I'll take the dare," he told her. He took the instructed piece of food and moved over to dip it into the subtance. "You sure drinking this straight up won't kill me?" He asked jokingly. After dipping it, he then took a bite of it, making a bit of a face at the tartness of it. "Good thing we mix that crap with water," he concluded before finishing the rest of the food. "Alright, your turn. Truth or dare?" A slight smirk formed on his face, as he wasn't giving her the option of what fell into each category. He'd make her pick first, and then tell her.

[Clarke Griffin]

“It’s medicinal. Worst it’ll do is give you something akin to a sugar rush.” And that could actually be quite interesting to see, funny even. Maybe she’d try and get him on one, if they had the food for that. As long as the food was scarce though, she wasn’t sure that might happen any time soon, since to both of them thought their people should have what they needed and they’d take a step back to protect them. Clarke grinned at his face. It was all kinds of cute.

“Mh, since you refused to give me your birthdate, dare as well. And don’t even think I won’t find it out, buddy.” She would find out about that. Somewhere they would have a record and then she’d find out. And maybe do something. She could bet his friends would want to celebrate his birthday, too. So she would find out about it. Now she was just curious of what he wanted her to do. It could be very, very funny. Luckily they both seemed very aware of each others weakness and she trusted him with that knowledge.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

A sugar rush. "That's all I need right now," he said sarcastically, but not bitterly. He found the whole thing to be quite amusing. He smirked when she claimed she would find out what his birthday was. "Good luck with that one, Clarke," he told her. He could easily find hers out from her mother at least. Her decision to do the dare caused him to pause in thought for a moment, a slightly mischevious smile forming on his lips.

"Go outside, barge into one of the first tents you see and yell coconuts." Why? There was no reason to it. It was just something ridiculous, more so because Clarke didn't do that sort of thing. Hell, neither of them did. "And doing it in this tent, doesn't count," he added on. Just in case she decided to get cute and find a way out of it. "Blame the sugar rush," he added on jokingly. He was so ready to watch this. He didn't care about how immature the idea was. That was the point of this whole game wasn't it? To just, pretend to be normal. And silly apaparently.

[Clarke Griffin]

Oh no. Oh no he didn’t. Damn it. Damn it. Clarke knew there was no going back on that now, she got up and put her boots back on. Really, the moment she took them off to get comfy in their tent and he was sending her out. But what she wouldn’t do to amuse him. Clarke left their tent to go to the next but it was a supply tent with tools, so that was out of the question. She went to the next, barged in and yelled at the top of her lungs: “COCONUTS!” And then froze for just a second as she took in the picture before her. This was NOT what she ever expected. Clarke turned and just RAN back to the tent she now shared with Bellamy. 

“I HATE YOU!” Of course she didn’t it was almost amusing. Clarke flopped down on his bed again and placed her forehead on his leg, blushing furiously. “Did you know? Ugh, of course you didn’t know. But hell… ugh. Erase that picture out of my head!” Clarke was well aware of how impossible that was. Apparently he mothers assistant thought the same thing as Clarke had done: Find a quiet spot to recover. “It was Jacksons tent or Jacksons and mums. Either way his healing for her was unique – between her legs. And I ran in there and yelled ‘coconuts. Oh GOD!”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy watched as she readied herself to go outside, and when she did, he popped his head out to make sure she did it. She stepped out of the first tent, as it was their supply one, and then went into another. Good thing she was being honest about it otherwise Bellamy would have called her out. She then came hurrying back, and Bellamy moved so that she could enter the tent. Upon doing so, she yelled that she hated him. He was hardly offended; amused was more like it cause well, something had clearly happened. And when she told him, he stared at her before laughing. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed, actually laughed with amusement.

It felt like forever. His laughter turned into a slight cough, still not fully recovered from recent events but damn, it was too funny to not react that way. "Damn," he said, clearly amused by her distress over what she had just seen. "You and you're mom are gonna have a fun conversation in the morning," he added on still chuckling over the idea. Granted, that wasn't something he'd like to see. The closest he had ever come to witnessing such a thing was Octavia and Atom in the woods, but he had quickly brought that to an end. "One things for sure, you'll never be looking at Jackson the same way again," he added on with a few more chuckles, rubbing salt in her wound.

[Clarke Griffin]

His laughter was… wonderful. It was such a rare sound to her and she decided to relish in it and cling to it and try and make him laugh more often. If it was at her embarrassment, so be it. Anything to make him laugh and heal, whatever it took. Even if it was to find her healing mother with her assistants head between her leg. “Not a chance, Bellamy. I will not talk to my mother about her being… orally pleasured by her assistant or whatever he is.” And she had walked in and yelled coconuts. Of all the damn things she could yell. “Though she might declare me crazy. Will you help me claiming I sleepwalk these days?” It could actually work with the trauma they have both been through.

“Goooood, no.” No she would not look at Jackson the same way again. She would not look at a lot of people the same way again, but most importantly him. She loved his laughter. She wanted to hear it again and again while she blushed furiously. This night turned out to be better than she thought. And more exhausting. “Want to lay down, Bellamy?” At least she would like to rest a bit now, even if they just ended up talking a bit. 

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He continued to smile with amusement as Clarke refused to speak to her mother about being pleasured in that way by her assistant. "Oh he's definitely assisting her . . . " He commented, continuing to tease the subject. It was just too tempting to pass on. How often did this happen? Could this happen? Not necessarily the Clarke walking in on her mother and Jackson bit, but the ability to talk about something so . . . normal. Not making hard decisions, or thinking of how to save everyone. This was allowing them to just be, people. Regular, ordinary people. And he wanted to milk that for as long as he could. "I got you," he told her, assuring her that he would back up her story of sleep walking.

He couldn't help but chuckle again when he thought of the word choice after seeing what she did. "You might have to explai why exactly you were dreaming about coconuts though," he said teasingly. Her suggestion of wanting to lay down suddenly reminded him of how tired he was. And how tired she must be. "That sounds like a good idea," he agreed, proceeding to take his shoes off. If he was able to . . . he wished he could ask Clarke to lay next to him. Ask to her hold her, if only for tonight. But that wasn't the nature of their relationship. Even if he wished it was. He lay on his bed, looking up at the ceiling of the tent. "Thanks for tonight, Clarke." Well, he wanted to thank her for everything . . . but he was specifically talking about tonight, and her ability make him laugh which was something practically everyone else failed at. Not that they tried. Not that he let them even try. "I needed it." But what he really meant was: I need you, in every sense of the word.