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Bellamy found the box while rummaging around.
It was hand painted with an intricate bohemian design. Someone had spent a lot of time making it special.
Restless as ever, he looked inside.
“Anything interesting?” Clarke asked, eyeing him as she assessed Harper’s arm. She hadn’t done much harm.
“A series of letters, I guess,” he sighed.
She noticed Bellamy put the box aside.
Later, they still waited for the storm to pass. Clarke saw him reading under cover from the rain.
The others were asleep or on watch.
“What have you got?” She dropped down beside him before spotting the box.
Despite his usual hyper-vigilance, he startled when she spoke.
Clarke had to smile at how he engrossed he’d been.
“They’re letters from a soldier to his sister, I think.”
Of all the things on earth he could find.
They sat in silence for some time, listening to the rain fall steady on the ramshackle roof.
Until Bellamy’s voice broke through.
“I miss her Clarke,” he murmured soft. “I know life on the Ark was nothing special, but I had O… you know?”
She nodded.
“It sounds lame,” he went on, “but her and I, we’ll never be the same again.”
You have your friends, Clarke wanted to say, but she saved it for another day.
As much as she thought she understood, Bellamy and Octavia shared a connection she never could.
So, instead of speaking, she curled her fingers through his and squeezed his hand close to her thigh.
He looked at her through the corner of his eye.
“Are you going to read me some of these?” Clarke smiled.
“O-okay,” he said, all shy, and ducked his head to the letter on his lap. “This one says…”
Hey sis.