Scars » The 100 Fanfiction » Bellamy Blake

Earth Skills: Part III

I'm actually quite upset because I've been gone for so long and now that I'm back nobody I talked to is active on Wattpad anymore. So now I don't have an edit making person and I'm sad. Vola, probably the one of the most loyal readers I had, has gone so now who will comment and be the most raging Bellamy and Rebekah shipper?

This chapter contains a flashback - which will be written in italics - and takes place shortly after Bellamy and Rebekah first met.

UNEDITED.

~~~~~

Clarke and I both stood awkwardly side-by-side whilst Wells stood ahead of us. For a moment, nobody said anything. But Clarke grabbed Wells' arm, where Murphy had previously cut him during their battle. Clarke sighed at the cut as Wells pulled his arm from her hand.

"You're sure making friends fast," The two looked at each other and her face softened. "Make sure to cover it. It could get infected." She warned gently.

There was a silence among the three of us, so I decided to break the tension.

"I like your pack," I said to Wells, gesturing to the a makeshift bag over his shoulder; which I found he was wearing like a purse. I wanted to comment on how it was useful and that he could carry: knives, rope, water, and his lipstick; but I decided against it.

"Seatbelts and insolation." He nodded, "I also grabbed part of the parachute, thought maybe we could use it to carry Jasper-"

"Good." Clarke cut in, letting out an irritated sigh. "Give it to someone else. You're not coming with us." She told him as she turned and began leaving the ship.

"My ankles fine."

Wells and I both followed after her. "Yeah, he won't slow us down." I agreed with him, giving him a reassuring smile as she began climbing down the ladder. I wanted to be his friend. We both shared a common interest/goal; becoming Clarke's friend again.

"It's not his ankle; it's him." Clarke said as she reached the bottom.

I sat alone in the Activities Lounge, fiddling with the Queen chess piece. It was black; though the paint had been nearly faded and chipped away. I was meant to play a few rounds with Clarke, but I had been late so she sat with Wells instead. Even though Clarke and Wells were so close, him and I rarely interacted. We had an odd relationship; the two of us basically just shared Clarke. At times, we would meet outside of the Griffin's flat, both waiting for her. Those moments were shared in complete silence. Wells didn't even know my name - and if Well's hadn't been the Chancellor's son - I wouldn't have known his either.

I turned my head slightly, trying to be subtle, whilst I watched Clarke and Wells laugh. She collected one his pieces, giving him a sly smirk. It'd be a lie for me to claim I didn't wish it had been her and I instead.

I was late because my father didn't want me to leave. He had been angry that evening; though he always was. Stomping around the flat, mumbling curses to himself, he had became livid when I even attempted to open the door. But after an argument, he told me to leave - and to not come back. He said stuff like this often, on account of the moonshine.

After she went down, Wells stepped out of the way so I could go down the ladder as well. I didn't quite understand how Clarke could he so cold to him. They used to he bestfriends. Even when Clarke and I were, she spent a lot of time talking about him. She'd tell me about the chess games she'd play against him; the times she won because he wasn't good at the game. But, even I knew it was because he just let her win. I imagine he let her win because of how excited she got about winning things. Clarke was always quite competitive. We didn't play much chess together because the game almost bored me to sleep. But the Ark didn't have much to offer for activities.