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A dream is a wish your heart makes. Clarke never quite understood that saying. The only dreams she has is of the dead mountain men. She tells herself it was for the greater good.
Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?
She always thought she had it figured out before the ground. Before solitary. Before Dad. Even the first days here she had reasons for living. Save her people. Get out. Survive. But now?
I wouldn't even know what to wish for.
Bellamy. Of course it's Bellamy. Her heart has been lost for so long. No. Not lost. She left him. Left him to deal with the weight of the world. How can your brain work if it’s not connected to your heart? They’ve barely talked since she came back to Arkadia. Yet she wonders why she can’t sleep.
She gets up from her bed and walks down the long hall way to his room. He is sleeping. She wonders if he slept at all while she was gone. What did he dream about? Clarke doesn’t get to wonder much longer because Bellamy murmurs something in his sleep. She gets closer and kneels beside his bed to hear him.
Clarke. We can’t lose her.
Oh. She climbs into bed with him and presses her back to his chest while wrapping his arms around her front. A low rough voice, weak from sleep,“Clarke?”
"Shh, I’m here.” His arms tighten around her waste and she feels his face fall into the back of her neck. His sobs fill the small room and she turns around to face him. Her hands cup his face. “I’m here Bellamy.” She places a gentle kiss to his lips and cuddles her face into his neck. Her eyes fall shut. She dreams of the sky.