Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
° • . ♚ . • °
The last thing you expect on day number 2,198 in the bunker is for him to actually be here.
You hear the clunk of the hatch, the rusted screech of metal being pulled open, and then boots hit the ground.
You shove past a few people, your legs momentarily forgetting how to work when you stumble. Hope is an awful thing when it gets legs. For six years it's been pacing circles in your chest, and now it's sprinting.
He doesn't see you at first. He's scanning the crowd, eyes sharp, mouth tight, taking everything in like a soldier on recon.
You take a step forward.
His eyes find yours.
You smile, and you swear it almost breaks your face. "You made it."
He blinks, like he did't expect to see you. Like you're a name he forgot but still kind of recognizes.
"Yeah," he says. "We're here."
Not I missed you. Not I'm sorry it took so long. Just we're here. Just that.
You move toward him. He doesn't move back. Doesn't move at all. You wrap your arms around him before your brain can stop you. He hugs you, technically. His arms come around you like muscle memory, the grip polite more than anything else.
Your heart sinks so fast it leaves a bruise on the way down.
You pull back and try to smile again, but it's not the same this time.
He's not the same.
He turns to help Echo down next. You watch his hand rest lightly on her back as she drops into the bunker like they've done this a hundred times. You don't know what you expected– maybe that you'd still feel like you mattered to him.
You step back.
Clarke's talking. There's shouting, some screaming, someone's crying in the corner. It's chaos, but muffled. Like everything's underwater.
Bellamy barely glances your way again.
You hate that you still keep hoping he will.
You press your hand to the concrete wall to feel something solid beneath your fingers. Your chest aches horribly, like something was torn from you and you were left bleeding out. You waited six years. No, not just waited– believed. Defended him. Dreamed about him. Held onto the one look he gave you before the world ended like you would be the reason he came back.
