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The stars had no right to make him feel so small, so insignificant, just another speck of dust in the vast universe.
They had no right to make him question his soul, to make him tremble at the realization that he was just a little lost boy in a world that could survive without him.
The stars had no right to look so pretty. To yank the breath from him lungs and leave him reeling, knees weak and shaking, and yet delirious with happiness.
They had no right to make him feel powerful and helpless at once, they had no right-
But maybe they did.
Because they had seen his tears, his cries, his weaknesses and his mistakes, his smiles, his calloused hands and bruised heart – they saw everything and still they shone upon him brightly, unwavering in their faith that he deserved their light.
Bellamy leaned further back, letting his elbows support his weight as he stretched his legs out, the wild green grass filling his nostrils with the scent of moon flowers as the gentle breeze descended upon their meadow, playfully messing around with his curly hair.
Next to him, Clarke sat with her legs pressed to her chest, her head tipped back and her eyes closed, lips stretched into a grin, swaying with the gust of the wind.
His heart squeezed and expanded at once, pulse rushing to his ears and leaving him deaf for anything that wasn’t her voice. It was ridiculous – this itch under his ribs – the twitch of his fingers to push the hair away from her face, to take her mouth with his and lose himself between her lips, in the endless heat of her skin.
It was ridiculous because he could do it, because she would let him in with a brilliant smile and the soft bite of her teeth. He could touch and touch, get drunk on her moans and emerge reborn, remade from the lines she would drag down his back, from the way his name would fall like a confession lost between kisses.
It almost hurt, how much he loved her.
As if sensing his thoughts, Clarke opened her eyes – the blue of the sky, of the waves, of the mountains – and leaned down to brush her nose against him, in an affectionate half-kiss.
“What are you thinking about?”
“You.” There was no point in hiding – she knew him better than he knew himself some days, and gods, it was scary. But soothing too.
“Yeah?” Clarke chuckled and some of her longer tresses teased his neck. “Care to share what exactly?”
Bellamy stared back at her, at her open gaze, at her joyfulness, and his bones felt too big for his skin, suddenly trembling, excited, as if they could crawl out of him and find a home inside her chest.
“I love you,” he said at last, the words falling freely, soft as silk.
Her eyes widened briefly before they crinkled at the corners, her tender smile brightening up her whole face even in the dark of the night.
It was the first time he had said it – at least out loud – but he hadn’t felt the need to before, his actions more than enough to let her know, to let her feel the extent of his feelings for her. They didn’t need words to be happy, to read each other’s minds and it was freedom and closeness in one.
Her hands cupped his cheeks, fingers tracing tenderly over his eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose, tugging his lower lip down to move onto his jaw and ending up at the hollow of his nape, brushing against the short curls there.
Her lips – dry but heavenly – ghosted over the freckles across his cheeks, each touch making a supernova explode inside his nerves, his skin burning from the warmth of her mouth. She laid tiny, close-mouthed kisses on his jaw, followed the lines of his bared throat and ended it with a lingering wet kiss on his collarbone.
Clarke didn’t say she the words back but she didn’t have to – this, this was more than enough between them, her fingers intertwined with his, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, simply breathing, just existing.
Together and never again apart.
“Have you said it before?” She broke the silence at last, the breeze carrying her words into the night.
“I love you?” She nodded against his chest and he hummed, lost in his memories for a moment. “I have.”
Her thumb went back and forth along his knuckles, an action so simple and familiar he was sure she wasn’t even aware of doing it.
“To whom?”
“Family, friends, lovers.”
She squirmed against him and he unlocked his elbows, laying on top of the grass, uncaring about the white fragrant flowers he was crushing with his body. Clarke laid beside him, propped on her elbow and looked curiously at him.
“What were their names?”
Her inquisitiveness made him chuckle and he glanced at the stars again, his thoughts lost among their brightness.
“Who, what, when, where and why.”
Clarke huffed at his cheeky response and poked him in his side, making him stifle a laugh as he tried to escape her swift revenge.
“Tell me.”
It was a request he had no intention of refusing.
“Who is Octavia. She was my world the moment I had her in my arms for the first time. She was home and warmth, she was cuddles and late night stories of the past. O brought meaning to my existence, made me matter, made me want to do better, be better, made me grow up while keeping the child in me from disappearing in the greyness of the Ark.
“What is my mother. What I loved about her was the family she gave me, the illusion that everything was alright, the idea that I could become whoever I wanted to. She was far from perfect, I can see that now, but she was the only mother I had and I loved her for what she sacrificed for me and O.
“When is Miller. We knew each other from before, nights spend sneaking in the forgotten corridors of the Ark. I couldn’t stop the Council from taking O, and Miller, the selfless idiot that he is, tried to steal the key for her cell. They caught him and as they were dragging him away, I realized that I would give my life for him, for his loyalty, for his friendship, for his arm around my shoulders. But don’t let him know, he’s a smug bastard as it is.
“Where is Raven. I met her on the ground but the timing was never perfect. What I loved about her was her fearlessness, her drive, her effort to protect her loved ones. Where I loved her was in the middle of the night as we scourged the woods and set traps, in the dropship as her clever mind gave us yet another fighting chance, in Mount Weather as we sat quietly, comparing our broken hearts.
“Why is Gina. She taught me how to laugh with my whole body, how to cry and let go of my hurt. Why I loved her is because she let me build myself back up, picking up the pieces as she watched from the side, her calming presence my steady pillar in those first weeks. I loved her because she showed me that life was meaningless without love; that even in the darkest night there was at least one star looking over me.
Clarke worried her lower lip with her teeth. “And which one am I?”
“You’re none of them.” Bellamy lifted their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. “Because you’re all of them. You’re who I love – my home away from home, my pride and joy, my partner in life and death, in laughter and tears. You’re what I love – you’re my safety net, the one person that I know will do everything in her power to bring me back if something happens to me; you’re the thread that’s keeping me tied to this world. You’re when I love – in the mornings when you wake up and your hair is a mess, and you kiss me messily, sleep still weighting your eyes down; in the day when you’re distracted and muttering to yourself, sweat clinging to your forehead as you work your magic; in the evening when we sit by the fire and your leg is pushed against mine as you let me have your mushrooms because you hate the taste of them. You’re where I love – here, in the present, in our bed and on the grass, as we get lost in each other’s bodies, as we try to find peace over the ashes that haunt our dreams. You’re why I love – your stubbornness and temper, your bleeding heart; your resolve and courage, your ever shining light. Because before you, I didn’t know what I was looking – waiting – for, and the stars are my witnesses, that I don’t see a future without you in it.
“You’re my last.”
Clarke was crying and she wasn’t a pretty crier – her cheeks were wet and blotchy, her nose just as red, her lips trembling as she tried to keep the hiccups at bay – and gods, Bellamy thought that she was stunning, that he had never loved her more than he did in this moment.
He tugged her down and she fell into his embrace, her mouth desperate against his as her hands grasped at his shirt eagerly. The frenzy of their kiss slowly turned to chaste pecks of lips, but the passion, oh the passion, it was all the same.
“You're a goddamn sap and I love you.” And her gaze was clear and shiny as the stars above.
“And how many people have heard that before me?”
“Five. Their names are who, what, when, where and why.”
And Bellamy chuckled, his heart stuttering behind his ribs and his body felt light as a feather.
“Tell me.”
(And the stars – the stars had the right to do whatever they wanted as long as Clarke kept on looking at him like he was her whole universe, her only universe.)