The Games ~ Book 2 ~ (The 100/Bellarke)

Chapter eighteen

Clarke and Bellamy sat in the dug out, remaining close to each other. Clarke had her head rested on Bellamy's chest, and Bellamy had his arms rapped around Clarke's waist, pulling her close. It was freezing in the place where they were being held, so they stayed close together for warmth.

"Bellamy?" Clarke's voice came, slightly horse.

"Yeah." Bellamy's voice was horse, as well.

It was the lack of water that made their voices sound this way. They had been held captive for a day and a half, and had absolutely nothing to eat or drink.

"I-I'm scared." Clarke told him. "What if the grounders kill us?"

Bellamy pull away from her, and looked her on the eyes. Their faces only a few four inches from each other.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you, Clarke. I'll protect you. I promise."

Clarke looked up at Bellamy, their eyes locked. Clarke and Bellamy both leaned forward, their lips brushing up against each other. Clarke's body went from tense to relaxed as her lips hit his. Their lips slowly moved together. Bellamy ran his fingers through Clarke's long, blond hair.

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Octavia had been a wreck, she cried nearly every second of the day. Deep sadness was in her heart, and she couldn't stop it from getting worse.

Bellamy was the only family she had left, and now he was gone. Clarke was her best friend, and she was gone, too. Octavia lost the two most important people in her life in a matter of seconds.

She only had Lincoln left, but even her couldn't make her feel better. No one could. Octavia need her brother and her best friend, but they were dead. They were dead because of the grounders.

The Grounders. The Grounders killed her Brother. The Grounders. The Grounders killed her best friend. It was the Grounder's fault, for everything.

Author's Note: During this chapter I listened to Armor by: Landon Austin. It totally reminds me of Bellarke! You guys should totally go listen to it.