1. The Fight-Bellarke Fanfiction

8. The Storm

ABOUT 4 HOURS LATER:

BELLAMY:
By now, everyone had gone to bed and there were just a few off us left, securing everything down, making sure all knots were nice and tight and nothing would blow away in the oncoming storm. But as the wind blew through my hair, around my body and the black clouds rolled overhead in the dark… the storm wasn’t the thing that occupied my thoughts.

I glanced towards Clarke’s tent… watching the faint orange light from the torch inside dance around the canvas, as if trying to escape... I wanted to speak to her, she seemed sullen and distant earlier when she returned to camp with Finn, I did try to speak to her… but she clearly wasn’t in the mood.

The wind suddenly became fierce as it swayed me back and forth, people were rushing around me, trying to get everything ready before settling down for the night, and all the while I was fixated on the light in the tent.

I felt a push on my shoulder as I turned to face Miller, who had to raise his voice to speak to me over the gale.
“Hello, you listening?”
“Yeah, sorry, what?” I replied loudly
“Who do you want on watch tonight?”
I stood there for a moment, thinking of an answer…
“No-one, it’s too dangerous with the storm, I’m it will be fine for just tonight.”
He nodded before heading into the dropship to go to bed… I was left alone with my thoughts in the middle of camp, next to the once powerful, now pathetic fire on the ground; it barely provided any warmth to me so there was no point me standing in this gust any longer. My tent was just passed Clarke’s, meaning I had to walk by hers to get to mine. As I approached the tent, I heard a gentle sob from inside…

Clarke… please… tell me…

I stopped by the flap of the tent, debating whether to enter or not. I knew Clarke didn’t like anyone to see her in those moments of weakness… just as I don’t either. We were polar opposites except when it came to feelings and shit. I reached towards the canvas, and as I did so, as if she could sense I was there, Clarke stopped crying. I heard her slight steps over the wind as she came towards me… only a piece of canvas between us.
It was strange, as if we could see each other without actually using our eyes; it only lasted momentarily before she let out a sniff and then broke down once more, flinging herself onto her bed. Or that’s what I sounded like anyway.

Clarke…

I entered by tent, securing the flap shut once I was inside.
I got undressed and clambered into bed… making sure I was covered in blankets before letting out a sigh as I listened to Clarke’s faint sniffling along with the whistling of the wind.

FINN:

The wind was deafening as it blew through camp. I lay in my makeshift bed in my small tent, tossing and turning, trying to block out the wind; and Clarke. It was no use. She filled my thoughts the way the gale filled my ears… constantly.

I slinked out of bed to search the floor for my clothes, with only the faint moonlight to aid me. I eventually located a full outfit and put it on… I shivered as the wind crept up my spine and across my shoulders, I stepped out my shelter and into the harsh storm that awaited me. I guess this storm came with no rain, but only winds and harsher winds to compensate for the lack of water. I bent down, securing the entrance of my tent closed to the cold ground. I stood up and surveyed the camp. It was pitch black, apart from a few embers in the centre of the now burnt wood, attempting to stay alive. From what I could see, there was no-one, not even anyone manning the gate… which was odd considering Bellamy had security so tight that we basically couldn’t move without his say so. (Okay, bit of an exaggeration, but still).

I looked up to midnight sky, the moon appearing now and again in the breaks of the clouds.

What is… what the…