Not All Fun and Games

Chapter 35

"You want to what? No way, Clarke. That's way too dangerous," says Bellamy, his eyes wide with concern. "I won't let you."
I can't help but giggle. "Yea? And how are you gonna stop me?" I tease him. "Bellamy, I need to do this."
He furrows his brow and takes my hand. We're alone in his tent. It's 1:47 am, and exhaustion is beginning to creep in on me. "Then I'm coming with you," he states.
"No, that's not a good idea. Zoe said that she thinks the grounder commander would prefer to only speak with one person. You're allowed to walk to their camp with me, but you can't go in," I tell him. I give his hand a squeeze, only to have him pull it away.
"Clarke, it's too dangerous. They could kill you. Then what would we do?" His eyes are pleading but his voice is cold.
"The decision has been made," is all I say.
He frowns sourly. "You're not thinking about your people, Clarke. You're going to get killed in there, and then we won't have a doctor in camp anymore."
I desperately search his face for the friendly, loving Bellamy who was kissing me just a few hours ago. But I can't find any trace of him right now.
"I'm doing this for my people, don't you get that? We can't go on like this forever! We have a chance to make peace, and I'm going to take it! Sorry Bellamy, but you can't stop me from doing that."
His eyes soften into a sad, hurt expression. "Then let me go instead." His voice is low and raspy, almost as if he's holding back tears.
I want so badly to tell him I won't go. But I can't. I need to think about the rest of my people, not just him.
"I'm sorry Bellamy. I am going, the decision has been made," I tell him again.
His expression changes so fast that I have to blink to make sure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me. He looks at me angrily, his jaw clenched. His arm is stiff as he pushes the messy curls out of his face. "Fine, don't listen to me. Do what you think is right." His voice is venomous. "But when you get killed and no one's there to look after the sick people in our camp, that's on you. If more of us die, that will be on you. But by all means, Princess, do what you think is right," he spits, standing up and storming out of the tent.

Part of me wants to run after Bellamy, explaining to him why I need to do this. But honestly, after everything that's happened today, I don't have the energy. I am absolutely exhausted.
I lay down in Bellamy's sleeping bag, pulling the blanket up over my head to block some of the noise coming from outside the tent.
Within minutes, I have drifted off.

***

My eyes snap open. I squint, trying to see in the dark surrounding me. There's a noise from close by—the snapping of a twig, perhaps. Then, slowly, someone unzips the tent flap. For a moment, panic takes over and I begin to shake. But right before I turn around to see who it is, someone lies down next to me, and I smell the familiar combination of leather and smoke. Bellamy must think I'm asleep, and now he's come to do that too. Where else can he sleep? This is his tent. Before I get too hopeful, I remind myself that he probably isn't here because he wants to sleep in the same tent as me, he must just be tired.
But just as I close my eyes again, I feel his arm wrap around me, and his lips press to the back of my head. He whispers into my ear, his warm breath causing me to shiver in pleasure: "I'm sorry."
I know he can't see me, and I'm sure he thinks I'm asleep, but nothing can stop the happy smile from forming on my lips.