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You are finally at peace.
No more wars, no more fighting. No more pain, loss.
Growing old with the people you loved had always been that one unreachable fantasy in the back of everyone's head. Now, though, it finally became your reality. With your small camp near the lake bank, waking every morning to the sound of the still water and the occasional chirping of a bird, everything seemed right.
No offsprings.
That's what Lexa– or the higher being in her form– had said. Now, that was one bump in the road. It was something that plagued your thoughts every day, and you despised it. You felt selfish, but most of all, you felt ungrateful. Bellamy had almost died in your arms. Blood seeping out of his mouth, body weak. It was a miracle you had been able to keep him alive for as long as you had, time dilation helping your situation greatly.
While you were struggling to keep him conscious, yelling at the top of your lungs for him to not close his eyes, to focus on the sound of your voice, the single remaining guard from Bardo realized where the bullet had landed.
The bullet had hit the lower part of his lung.
And so, both of you had done the best you could to give him more time as he struggled on the ground helplessly. You didn't know what you were waiting for. A miracle? For Clarke to come back? Anxiety had flooded your senses, your body moving on autopilot.
Thank God for the medical knowledge you had obtained by Abby and Jackson, bless their souls.
And as your arms were going numb, pins and needles tingling your strained muscles, it happened. The fucking miracle, it happened.
The guard's hands started glowing a beautiful golden glow, your eyes snapping on their form. The guard was... fading away?
Confusion exuded from your mind, mouth hanging open and eyes blurred from unshed tears, but you did not once stop performing CPR on the boy's chest.
Bellamy was the one to follow suit, golden streaks leaping between your fingertips as he slowly dissolved.
While the boy you loved quite literally disappeared into thin air, your knees buckled as you struggled to stand up straight. Before you had the chance to do so, or even question your own sanity at that very moment, you felt lighter. Mentally and physically. Like every weight you had been carrying was gone.
What the hell was happening?
Your palms started shining the same golden color, the light spreading from your limbs and towards your core, making you evaporate. As you let your mind go blank, you lifted your gaze up to the palace's ceiling, your hooded eyelids finally falling shut, letting one last exhale leave your chapped lips.
Here you were now, eyes resting closed with Bellamy's arm thrown over your stomach, cuddling you close to his side, soft snores leaving the man's lips. You let your gaze fall on his relaxed face as you turned over to face him, your palm gently caressing his scalp.
After a few strokes and soft scratches on his head, Bellamy started stirring in his sleep, eyes opening momentarily to stare into your own.
“Watching me sleep?” he said, voice deeper in tone as he slowly started to wake.
“Can you blame me?” came your sincere response.
Watching a lazy grin light up his face was the only thing required for your lips to curve upwards as well, letting out a soft chuckle at his flushed expression. He abruptly sat up, cold air hitting his exposed chest. A habit of his when he wanted to wake up quickly. Turning around, he met you halfway and captured your lips in a loving kiss, palm moving to cup your cheek.
You both grinned into it, you sighing into his mouth. You broke apart for a short moment, lungs needing air. He shifted on his spot so he could face you and recaptured your lips, with more force this time. Limbs entangled together blissfully and lips moving against each other's in a deep rhythm, he started pushing you back onto the makeshift bed.
The moment and mood was ruined, however, when Octavia's voice pierced through the thin fabric you called door.
“We're having breakfast in 10'!”
At the sound of his sister's voice he flinched irritably, head falling. You breathed a laugh into his neck, gently pushing back his biceps so you could stand up straight.
“Do we have to go?” he pleaded jokingly, pursing his lower lip.
You groaned humorously, the grin plastered on your lips never fading, throwing your legs over the side of the bed, warm feet touching the cold surface. Bellamy fell on his back, arm lazily resting over his eyes as he sighed. “You know,” you looked at his frame as he spoke, “there's a lot I can do in ten minutes.”
You laughed at his innuendo, strapping the laces on your worn-out combat boots. Letting out a tired yawn, your fingers began combing through your tangled hair. “Alright, casanova. Let's go help with breakfast.”
As you both stepped out the spacious tent moments later, you were greeted by your friends, all sitting around a bonfire, preparing everyone's meal.
“Goodmorning sleepyheads, rough night?” John spoke, the insinuation not going unnoticed by anyone in the group, even earning some chuckles and playful grins.
“You have no idea.”
-
“This is an almost two-century-old booze, are we sure we want to drink this?”
Octavia took off the lid with a shrug, the alcohol's scent making its way into everyone's nostrils. Could booze go bad? Well, they were about to find out. You swiftly snatched the bottle from Octavia's hands, taking a large swing.
Jesus Christ.
You coughed at the alcohol's burning sensation down your throat, Bellamy's hand quickly finding your back and patting forcefully.
“This is good!” you spoke hoarsely, your mouth having forgotten the overall taste of alcohol. And as the group took turns of drinking out of the old bottle, you all sat quietly beside the peaceful water of the lake and the bonfire in front of you, staring at the stars above.
-
You watched as Bellamy put on appropriate clothing, his bare back exposed for your eyes.
“Do we have to go?” you inquired, imitating the phrase he often used. He turned around at the sound of your voice, his eyes falling on your form.
As tempting as you looked, only having your bra and tight shorts on, you had work to attend to. Bring wood for the fire, wash clothing, prepare the meals, you name it— it had to be done.
“Work needs to be done, you should get up too.” he reluctantly looked at the entrance of the tent, then back at his girlfriend.
“We work hard everyday, can't we stay in bed just this once?” you batted your eyelashes up at him as he moved towards your side of the bed. Standing tall and staring down at you, you had to bend your neck in order to look him in the eye. The view you got, although, was worth the strain.
A mischievous smirk painting your lips, you moved to stand on your knees, hands sliding up his thighs. Deliberately missing his crotch, you moved your palms to slide under his shirt, letting your hands wander across his chest teasingly.
“Are you sure?”
Indeed, too tempting to pass up.
His eyes drifted to the door, then back to your figure. Debating his options, he begrudgingly gave in, a sly smirk making its way onto to his lips. “Just for an hour, the others will come looking for us.”
You dragged him on top of you, the weight of his torso on yours leaving a pleasant feeling behind, “I knew I could persuade you.” you teased.
Rolling his eyes, “Shut up,” he spoke huskily before connecting your lips in a feverish mess.
Hope and Jordan both fell into a quiet fit of laughter outside the couple's tent as they heard the commotion while walking by, being on their way to the center of the camp. Definitely teasing material, Octavia, John and Clarke always throwing sly remarks at the two of you any chance they got. Not that you and Bellamy didn't tease the other couples, as well.
Finally peaceful enough to have the chance to do so.
Finally.