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i.
Living in ruins of a palace within my dreams
And you know we're on each other's team
Clarke hates the decor of this place.
The Primes really had let the decadence and status of being gods get to their heads. Or maybe Russell and Simone had -- they seemed to be the ones most invested in the golden accessories and face paint.
Yet not matter how much Clarke detests the Sanctum palace (for many reasons), they’re stuck in one of its many rooms, thankfully not the main dining where Clarke had initially failed to convince them to stay (though in hindsight, maybe it would have been better if they’d left).
It’s late at night, the last moon having set an hour ago, and she and Bellamy are poring over Gabriel’s Anomaly papers by candlelight. The symbols and equations swim in front of her eyes, but she can’t let herself close them. Not only because she doesn’t want to let Bellamy down, but because when she closes her eyes, she’s afraid she won’t get to open them as herself.
She knows it’s irrational. Josephine is dead, the mind drive removed without her on it, and the bodysnatcher just a memory in Clarke’s mindspace after she’d hurled the axe at her virtual form. But she’s still scared that maybe it was all a trick and if she goes to sleep again then Josephine will take over, this time with the tools to actually pretend to be her before she kills everyone Clarke loves.
Though she’s pretty sure Josephine wouldn’t be able to fool the man next to her, even when he’s bone tired and weary as herself, unwilling to sleep when his sister is lost in an unexplainable time space phenomenon.
Bellamy’s poring through the pages like one of them will miraculously hold the answer to his sister’s disappearance, more than the limited information they’ve been able to glean from Hope. But Clarke can see the exhaustion in his frame, the trembling of his hands as he turns each page and copies down stray symbols.
It’s not helping either of them to work themselves ragged.
‘Bellamy,’ she says gently, but he doesn’t hear her. She puts a hand on his shoulder, and he startles.
‘Hm?
‘It’s late. We should both sleep. You should go home to Echo.’
Clarke doesn’t let it sting her anymore. She was telling the truth, all those years ago (although it felt like last week) sitting in front of the Echo she’d tied to a chair. The former spy was good for Bellamy. She wasn’t jealous.
At all.
Bellamy lets out a tired huff, a tiny smile gracing his face for the first time in hours. It’s not a happy one, though, more amused and sad than anything.
‘Home to Echo?’
‘Well, to wherever you’re staying…’
‘Clarke, I...We broke up.’
She feels her eyebrows shoot up, but tries not to react in any other way. She’s not even sure how she feels. Is she sorry? Is she sad? For him, and even Echo, she is in a way. But she can’t be altogether unhappy. It’s what she’s wished for, deep down inside, since the moment she saw them reunite in the desert. Another thing she hates herself for.
‘I’m sorry,’ she begins, but he shakes his head.
‘Don’t be. It’s been coming for awhile.’ He scrubs a hand up his face, a familiar Bellamy tic from even before Praimfaya. ‘I told her nothing would change on the ground. But we’re not on the ground anymore, I guess. Not the ground that matters.’
‘When?’
‘When did we split? Not before...after O disappeared. When we came back. We had a blow-up and it was pretty mutual.’
‘I am sorry,’ Clarke says as earnestly as she can. Because she is. No matter how she felt about them, she hates to see him hurt.
Bellamy just smiles that wry little grin.
‘I know you are.’ He looks down at the pages and shakes his head, looks across at the bundle in front of her. ‘Here you are, after everything with Madi and losing your mom, helping me. What did I do to deserve you?’
Clarke flinches at his words. ‘Nothing.’ But then she frowns. ‘Everything. Bellamy,you’ve saved me how many times? And I told you you were important to me.’
Bellamy nods, not quite looking at her, the cogs turning behind those expressive eyes. Finally he speaks, in a hoarse voice.
‘You’re important to me too. And the truth is, Clarke...It was over between me and Echo the moment Madi appeared after we landed and told us you were alive.’
Her breath hitches, her heart skips a beat, all the cliches from every old Earth romance novel.
She’s not sure what to say. It feels like they’ve always been building to a moment like this, but some part of Clarke never thought it would actually happen. She’s purposely sabotaged it before, even, like on the beach in front of the rover.
After all, Clarke was always pretty sure he’d liked her before those six long years. It was in the way he looked at her, the way he’d refused to let her say she might die in those hours before the death wave. The way he’d steadfastly not looked her in the eye when Lexa was mentioned.
But they’d always been so busy fighting for their lives, and she was still raw after Lexa, and she’d staved it off. Not because some part of her didn’t feel the same, but because she just wasn’t ready.
Of course, it was to her regret. Six years talking to him on the radio had clarified a few things for her. And she’d tried not to let it break her heart when they weren’t the same partners, Bellamy and Clarke. When he’d kissed Echo, when he’d chosen his family over hers.
‘Clarke?’
He’s staring directly at her now, a little fear in his eyes. After all, it’s not like she’s ever let her feelings for him be known. She’s protected herself, all this time. He knows about the radio calls, but not what they truly meant to her.
‘Sorry, I just…’
His face begins to shut down, the emotions fleeing right before her eyes, so her hand shoots out to grab his, squeezing it in hers.
‘No! Not sorry like that. I just..’ Clarke looks away herself, gathering herself in a few breaths before talking. ‘Calling you every day on the ground was more than just keeping me sane,’ she reveals to him, and his eyes trace hers carefully, his hand wrapping around hers.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that you’re not the only one who’s pined for a long time.’
His small smile returns once again, but this time she knows there’s actual happiness in it. His eyes crinkle. ‘Who said I was pining?’
‘Bell,’ she says, and his face grows serious again.
They’re already sitting fairly close to each other, to be able to swap notes and compare symbols. Her hand is in his, and their knees are knocking between their chairs.
But despite their nearness, he feels so far away. And so it feels torturous as they inch towards each other, neither of them willing to disrupt the fragile web spun between them in this precious moment.
His eyes flit between her eyes and her lips, and she’s doing the same, cataloguing every freckle, the scar on his lip, the beard she’s still not quite used to seeing on his face.
She leans in further, and they’re breathing each other’s air now. His free hand comes up to cup her cheek, hers snakes up his shoulder and into his hair. He smells like the woods of Sanctum, like sweat and not-earth and a hint of musk. All of her senses are filled with him, Bellamy Blake, the man she loves , in front of her after he saved her life and now she’s about to--
‘Bellamy!’ A voice calls from down the hall. ‘Clarke!’
They jump apart and the moment shatters. She didn’t even notice she was breathing so fast, her heart hammering. His eyes are filled with annoyance and even a little frustration, even as Emori comes stumbling into their room.
‘What, Emori,’ Bellamy snaps, and Clarke doesn’t think she’s imagining that there’s more venom in it than what being interrupted usually warrants.
But Emori doesn’t seem to notice his rudeness. ‘Gabriel’s had a breakthrough,’ she announces, out of breath, and that’s enough to make Bellamy’s head snap up.
‘What?’ They both say in unison, and there’s time enough to exchange a small glance of regret before they’re exiting the room, off to save his sister.
*
ii.
Give me something
To hold onto
I've got nothing
Since I lost you
‘Fuck!’
Despite his penchant for yelling and frustrated outbursts (or at least the pre-Praimfaya version of him), Bellamy doesn’t usually curse.
Clarke supposes it’s because of a childhood living with a little sister he was trying to teach good manners to, despite the low chance of her ever offending anyone, being stuck under a floor and all.
But Octavia Blake did eventually escape that tiny room Clarke knows they lived on the Ark, and a lot has happened since then, all culminating to her being stabbed and lost into a green cloud of time anomaly, which is what Bellamy is currently swearing at.
He storms off into the woods, thankfully in the opposite direction to the anomaly, which Clarke thanks heaven for because if he’d gotten lost to her in that green vortex, she’d be the one swearing next.
Gabriel sighs in front of them, muttering things under his breath as he jabs at his papers covered with symbols.
It’s the third time they’ve failed in getting the anomaly to cooperate.
Echo looks like she wants to go after him, but Raven puts a hand on the woman’s shoulder and shakes her head, and Murphy rolls his eyes at Clarke.
‘I think this might be up to you.’
‘Me?’ Clarke startles, and when Emori lifts an eyebrow at her, she realises from the look in her eye that she had probably seen more than she’d let on when she’d interrupted their ‘research’ the other day.
Clarke gulps and glances at Echo. But they are broken up, and it probably is up to her to go after him now. Maybe it always was.
It reminds her a little of going after him way back when, on a damp beach before Praimfaya, herself in that wildly uncomfortable corset, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead, sad eyes as Octavia had dismissed him with pungent venom. Back then, he’d told Clarke in broken tones he’d lost his sister, and it’s a strange parallel to notice, even though this time Octavia’s lost to him for entirely different reasons.
She finds him sitting on a log, and can’t help but think he might have predicted she’d come after him. He’s not in the middle -- he’s perched slightly to one side, with room enough for her to sit down next to him.
His head is in his hands when she lowers herself down, but he doesn’t even jump when her hand lands on his shoulders and runs up and down his back. She’s never been that great a comforter, but somehow Clarke knows he just needs something simple right now.
‘As soon as I get her back, I lose her, Clarke,’ he says, and she sighs.
‘It’s not your fault. I think we just have the worst luck in the world.’
‘We? Like you and me, or us as a society?’
‘Yes,’ Clarke says, and she’s pleased that he snorts into his hands. He finally lifts his head up and shakes it, staring off into the trees.
‘We forgive each other and then one of us leaves,’ he says. ‘Why can’t we break that pattern?’
Clarke pauses. ‘Are you talking about Octavia or me?’
He stiffens, surprised, and looks at her. ‘Wow. I never even thought of that before. Maybe it’s a me curse.’
‘You don’t have a curse, Bellamy. We’ll figure this out. We always do.’
He nods. ‘I’m glad I have you, though.’
‘I’m not leaving again. Not if I can help it.’
‘I know.’ He hesitates, but then pulls her in, and she hugs him back as hard as she can. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get sick of hugging Bellamy Blake. Ever since she first did so, seeing him come through that gate all scratched up but alive and she couldn’t help but leap into his arms, she’s become a little bit of an addict.
She finds herself thinking of Russell’s words to her that first day they’d arrived in Sanctum. Coincidentally, when she’d just been watching Bellamy leave her.
Has she ever known peace?
Clarke had been quiet then, letting silence be her answer, but it wasn’t altogether true, that silence. She’d known peace as a child on the Ark, as Draconian and stifling as that life was. She’d known peace in the six years she had with Madi in the valley, as impatient and lonely as she was.
And she’s known peace every time she gets to hug Bellamy and tuck her face into his shoulder. She’s not even sure why she feels so safe there, his strong arms holding her to him, his nose in her hair, the warmth of his body an antidote to any discomfort.
Okay, maybe she does know why she feels safe.
It’s no different here, even as this hug is ostensibly to comfort him. Even when it’s him that’s struggling, Bellamy makes her feel better.
‘I promise we’ll get her back, Bellamy,’ she says, muffled, and he nods. He barely lets her go as he pulls back, arms still nearly all the way around her.
They haven’t been this close since that night in the palace, urgency and awkwardness keeping them from reigniting what that conversation had revealed to them.
His forehead leans against hers. Her hands are wrapped around his upper arms, keeping him steady, and he draws in a rattling breath.
‘I can’t do this without you,’ he whispers, and she doesn’t move to shake her head, but she’s sure he can feel her frown, his head against hers.
‘You could,’ she says. ‘You got through six years without me. You got through losing me to--’
‘Not again,’ he clarifies, even quieter. ‘You didn’t see me, either time. I broke. And now that you’re here, I just want to…’
He trails off, but he doesn’t need to say anything else. Clarke understands because she feels the same way. Although she knows she’s never thought he was dead like he has her. Assumed from available evidence, sometimes, but always in a situation where she couldn’t think about it, had to bury it down so she could save someone else, ignore her heart so she could carry on.
Clarke hopes he knows it would destroy her just as much to truly see the light of his eyes go out.
‘Bellamy…’
She sees, feels, every movement from him. Sees his eyes flutter shut, lets her own do the same. His hands travel up her back, over her shoulders, up to her cheeks, and their noses are touching, and everything feels electric and alive, and--
‘Octavia!’ Gabriel yells.
There’s a noise from the direction of the Anomaly, a screeching and a rumbling and a cacophony of other sounds, and Clarke doesn’t even register them breaking from their embrace.
As always, something is happening, and there’s no time to pause.
*
iii.
The end of the earth
It’s worth its weight in wisdom
The sunset is extraordinary from up on the ridge. The two suns make for a palette of colours and vibrant lines that Clarke couldn’t paint in her wildest dreams.
But it’s still not quite as perfect as an Earth sunset.
Clarke’s grateful for the planet they’ve found, truly. The peace, their final (or so she hopes) struggle over, everyone so weary and bloody that they just want to lie down and sleep and not even bother with the work needed to build the new society.
It doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss the particular green of Earthen trees, or the blue of Earth’s sky, the particular shade of pink and orange as the singular solar star set on the horizon.
Sanctum sunsets are spectacular, but Clarke won’t ever stop being homesick.
She misses the valley most of all. And yet, she muses, the thing she missed most was never truly there with her, and it is here with her now, so maybe she can’t complain.
The crunch of leaves behind her doesn’t startle her, surprisingly. Maybe she’s finally accepted she has nothing to fear anymore.
Or maybe she knows subconsciously that it’s his footsteps.
His presence beside her as they watch the suns do their final dance before sinking below the horizon is comforting. It makes the alien sight feel less unfamiliar.
‘You ever think we’ll get used to two suns?’ His voice, gruff and deep, is the perfect soundtrack. Especially when there’s a lack of birds on this planet, and it feels eerie without that Earthen chorus.
‘I was just thinking about that,’ Clarke responds to him warmly, and Bellamy laughs a little.
‘Always on the same page, huh?’
‘Something like that.’ She sighs. ‘I was just thinking that I miss the Earth. And the valley. But I never had you with me there, so it feels a little strange for me to wish it back.’
He shrugs. ‘I don’t think it’s that odd. I wish I’d been down there with you.’
It’s a scenario she imagined many a lonely night on the ground when a day with her new nightblood daughter had given her grief, or she’d felt too keenly the lack of another adult to talk to. The lack of a Bellamy to talk to.
What if she’d had a life where he’d had nightblood too? And they’d survived and raised Madi together, finally the parents the delinquents had always teased them for being.
She always felt a little selfish for wishing it. Why weren’t the others from the crew on the Ring in her fantasies? And especially after they’d come back. He’d had a whole life with Echo up there. Who was she to take that away?
But he’d said it now. Were they just empty words? The question bursts out of her before she can stop herself.
‘Do you really?’
‘Hm?’
It’s just as she thought. A throwaway remark, just because he likes her doesn’t mean he…
‘Nevermind,’ she says quickly, and he turns to her, frowning.
‘No, wait. I said I wish I’d been down there with you...’
‘It’s okay, Bellamy. I know it’s not really what you’d want to happen. Your family is too important to you--’
‘Clarke,’ he says, a little harsh. She pauses and looks at the anguish on his face. ‘I thought we established this. You’re my family. Just like you said.’
She takes a deep breath. ‘I know. But do you wish I’d been up there with the rest of you, or you be down in the valley with me?’
He blinks slowly, as if hearing the question for the first time. Surely he’s thought about it, though. He had six years. How hadn’t every possible outcome of what happened before Praimfaya run through his brain? It certainly had in hers.
Although maybe that’s because she was the head. He was the heart, and hearts weren’t always logical.
‘I think my first thought was always having you up there with me,’ he says honestly, slowly. She’s not surprised. ‘But now I think about it…’ He shakes his head. ‘Madi is too important to you. And she’s too important to me.’ He nods sharply, as if confirming it to himself. ‘I didn’t mean for what I just said to be a throwaway, Clarke. I do wish I’d been down there with you.’
There’s a quiet. On Earth, it would have been filled with those birds. Here on Sanctum, there’s less background commotion, apart from the general hubbub of the new compound behind them.
‘I thought about it all the time,’ she confesses into the dark. The Sanctum sunset is in its final throes, the last hazy glow from the suns fading from the sky. ‘Having you with me. Raising Madi together. I was almost sickeningly domestic,’ she says, a nervous laugh escaping, and is relieved when she sees a smile from him even through the twilight.
She’s surprised when he fully turns towards her, and she swivels to meet him, and his hands are gripping her shoulders. He’s looking into her eyes like it’s a confession, and maybe it is.
‘I wish I’d been down there with you. Truly. But we can’t change the past. And who we are now is shaped by what we went through in those six years.’
‘I know,’ Clarke starts to respond, heart heavy.
‘But that doesn’t mean we weren’t with each other. I mean it Clarke. You talked to me everyday. I mourned you every day. We never left each other, okay?’
‘That’s a little sappy,’ Clarke says, but she smiles despite herself. Bellamy rolls his eyes.
‘I’m trying to be a little romantic here, okay? Look. We have a chance to start over. Finally. After everything. We can’t dwell on missed opportunities, or what could have been if you’d stayed or I’d stayed, whichever time it is.’
She has to laugh at that. ‘We can’t even pinpoint one time?’
He shrugs. ‘Like I said, do we have to? We have each other, here and now. And I for one don’t think we should waste that.’
Bellamy’s always been good at speeches. And she thinks this one might convince her, just a little. She reaches up to her own shoulders to put her hands over his, shuffling closer to him as she does so.
After their two previous close calls, it seems like it’s time. After working out the anomaly, and all the shit that happened after, they haven’t had even one quiet moment to themselves. And now they do.
‘Bellamy, I…’
‘You don’t have to say it,’ he whispers, interrupting, and leans in. ‘What if I’m shit at kissing? Don’t get ahead of yourself.’
She snorts and shakes her head. ‘I think you have plenty of references. You forget I’m friends with two of your former conquests.’
He gasps, faux-offended, and maybe it’s better that they missed the other two opportunities, because she actually feels happy in this moment, life and death stress in the past, and it’s just them on this ridge, and she’s laughing even as they lean in, and she can’t wait till she feels his lips on hers, and--
‘Clarke!’
A voice rings out from below them, from down the ridge. It’s followed by the crunch of footsteps up the hill, and Madi’s appearing, and beckoning them down to fix some sort of inane problem in their new society, and this time Bellamy audibly groans.
‘Can’t it wait?’ The words are just for her, a grumble, that he doesn’t truly mean.
It probably could wait, but the moment’s ruined regardless with Madi oblivious to what she interrupted, and Clarke finds herself reluctantly following her daughter back down to the village.
This time Bellamy’s holding her hand though, so it’s hard to feel wholly disappointed. And if the dispute between one of the ex-Sanctumites and one of the most devout of Wonkru takes longer than they thought, stretching into the night and causing more issues and it’s just a goddamn headache , well.
It’s just stretching the anticipation, right?
That’s what she tries to tell herself, anyway.
+iv.
It’s getting dark, too dark to see
I feel I’m knocking on heaven’s door
It’s such a stupid goddamn fight.
Especially when the two adults in question are fighting over two dead religions to begin with, both disproven, their figureheads fallen from grace. Their new compound was supposed to be for people wanting to move on from that sort of thing anyway, but apparently even though belief was left behind, competition and just general dickheadery stayed.
Bellamy and Clarke have found themselves as the de facto leaders of this new little settlement. There are still people living back at Sanctum, but this place is supposed to let people escape the trauma of what happened there. And apparently Clarke and Bellamy are seen as respectable figures -- Bellamy because he has the trust of the ex-Earthers, and Clarke because the Sanctumites see her nightblood as a thing to revere even as they know the Primes are gone.
It’s felt a little bit like those early days at the Dropship. Wrangling people into building shelters and surviving in a new environment, handing out duties and fixing issues that come up.
Apparently that includes mediating pointless fights.
Bellamy tells her to go to bed halfway through, because despite everything being peaceful, she’s still catching up on sleep. And she needs to be there for Madi.
She knows better to argue with him when he’s being overprotective and in no-nonsense leader mode, and she’s exhausted, so she collapses into bed and doesn’t wake up until morning. No nightmares, for once.
Of course then she has breakfast with Madi and then some sort of engineering thing to consult with Raven on, and then she’s in their little medbay with Jackson helping him with a small surgery. And that’s exhausting too because the ghost of her mother haunts her when she does any sort of healing and she knows Jackson misses her too.
It’s only in the afternoon she gets to sit down without anyone bothering her, and sighs into a cup of tea, and finally thinks about the previous night with Bellamy.
God, it’s killing her. She’s waited so goddamn long, and someone is always interrupting, and she’s finally supposed to be happy and can’t she just get a break?
She’s fed up.
Madi returns from school bright and happy, and god, Clarke’s glad she can finally go to school. She’s with other kids, and her blood isn’t a threat anymore, and she doesn’t have the mantle of leadership on her shoulders or in her head, and her daughter is happy .
It’s time she gets that too.
Madi’s been gunning for an afternoon with Raven anyway, and when Clarke walks her over, she asks after Bellamy.
The only upside (if she can even call it that) of her mother’s death is that it’s almost fixed her relationship with Raven. Clarke knows they need to properly talk and sort their shit out, and give apologies on both sides, but right now it’s enough to smile when Raven greets Madi with enthusiasm.
Raven even tells Clarke where Bellamy is -- having a nap after fixing the situation last night had gone on until early morning.
‘I don’t know where he gets the patience,’ Raven rolls her eyes. ‘He had it on the Ark with Murphy, too.’
Clarke has to hide her sinking heart, because she knows Raven doesn’t mean anything by it, mentioning the time she wasn’t with them, and forces her voice to be cheery. ‘Well he’s always been good with kids having tantrums. Octavia, Jasper, Murphy, Madi...’
Raven snorts. ‘You’re not wrong.’ She lifts an eyebrow at Clarke. ‘You want him for some reason?’
‘For some reason,’ Clarke agrees, not wanting to get into it. Echo is Raven’s friend, and even though Echo literally gave Clarke her blessing in a spontaneous and uncomfortable conversation a few days ago, it’s a little awkward. But Raven just smirks and shoos her away, and Clarke can’t help but feel a little…
Hopeful. That things with her friends will mend properly over time, and Madi will get to know the heroes from those stories properly, and Bellamy will be beside her, and--
Well, they are still breathing, after all. Hope is something she can try to adopt.
She makes her way to the little room Bellamy’s living in right now. They’re building the compound around a little used and abandoned outpost so they’re not starting totally from scratch, and she knocks on the old door and waits.
Her heart is buzzing again. It’s not that she doesn’t think it will go well -- they’ve almost had it too many times. But there is a certain fear to letting the literal years of missed opportunities and almosts come to an end.
After a few moments the door swings open, and Bellamy’s blinking at her blearily, his hair wild and messy, a small smile on his face after he’s seen who she is, and god she loves him.
‘I was having a nap,’ he says mildy.
‘I know,’ she says, and she knows he’s not annoyed because he just opens the door wider and lets her in, closing it behind him and turning to study her.
There’s a moment of self-doubt as she looks at him. He’s perfect, in her eyes. How, after everything she’s done, after everything she’s done to him , can he love her in return?
But the way his eyes are softening, the way the fondness is shining from his eyes, the way he’s rumpled and sleepy but still giving her his full attention, the way he’s only tired because he’s a great leader and he sent her to bed because he cares about her and…
She takes a breath. Walks the two paces towards him, and before she can waste any more time with the agonising lean-ins they’ve done before, she goes up onto her tiptoes and kisses him.
Her lips are touching his for only a few seconds, with no response, when her heart crackles and freezes. Is he not kissing back? Has she mistaken every single thing before this? Has something changed?
Clarke’s eyes flickered shut when she kissed him, so she opens them now and pulls back, pulse thumping, heart unsure. His eyes are closed.
Then they flash open, and his burning stare is on hers for half a second before he crashes into her.
He kisses her, and she’s twirling, maybe physically, maybe just in her mind. She’s not really sure. But then her back is against the door and they’re kissing and kissing and kissing. It’s like they’ve both unearthed a hunger, unrelenting and infinite.
It’s a good few minutes of dizzying happiness and Bellamy before she realises he’s murmuring something into her lips.
‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’
She breaks the kiss to hurl her arms around his neck, causing him to stagger back. A few tears slip out as she whispers it back in his ear.
‘I love you, too, Bellamy.’
He smiles, warm and brilliant and everything she wants.
‘Clarke.’
They’re kissing again, and stumbling away from the door, and god, it’s their first kiss (or probably like, twentieth or something, technically, by now) but Clarke’s just so sure.
He’s it for her. He’s the sun and light and her best friend and she wants everything with him. Not just survival. A life.
She doesn’t seem to need to communicate this to him. Not in words. He’s lowering her down onto the bed, whispering all the same kind of things to her, and if hearts could burst hers would.
Clarke’s not sure she deserves this, but she’s getting it, and well. She’s not going to give it up easily.
Bellamy’s kissing down her stomach, shuffling her pants down her legs, moaning as her hands run rough through his hair, when there’s a knock at the door.
This time, he doesn’t stop. He just shakes his head, and only lifts it when whoever it is knocks again.
‘What,’ he calls gruffly. Clarke has to grin. Even after everything, they’re still responsible. If someone’s dying out there, they can stop this, continue it later. They’ve had the all important kiss, after all.
But she dare says the knock would have to be a little more urgent to make that happen.
‘Are you done with your nap?’ Comes a muffled voice. ‘Someone wants to talk to-’
‘Go away,’ Bellamy calls, interrupting. ‘It can wait.’
‘Uh…’
‘They can take it up with us later!’ Clarke yells, and there’s some shuffling outside the door, and a meek assent before footsteps fade away. She shakes her head, giggling a little when he huffs.
‘Are we bad leaders?’
‘Nope,’ Bellamy says, to her surprise. ‘They can wait. You just laughed, and I finally get to kiss you, and the only way I’m opening that door in the next hour is if someone literally blows up. That’s the only thing more important.’’
Clarke brings him up to her to kiss him soundly. ‘So this is our time now?’
‘Now we have it,’ he agrees, planting feather light kisses on her cheeks, chaste and gentle, before descending once again to give her decidedly more sensual ones down her neck and breasts and stomach and thighs. ‘I don’t intend to waste it.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ she says, breathless, and there’s not much more talking.
She’s not sure how she waited so long for this. For Bellamy. For joy. And it’s only the beginning of their time together. She’s excited for the future, with him by her side.
For the rest of their lives together.