I Run to You

Chapter 9

Clarke woke to warmth and contentment. She was snuggled against something, a weight anchoring her to the bed. She opened her eyes slowly, the sight of a sleeping Bellamy Blake filling her vision.

She remembered little of what happened the night before, only being sicker than she'd ever been in her life. It was no surprise to her that Bellamy had been there. He seemed to always be there when she needed him most.

"Morning Princess," she heard him say huskily, the sound rumbling under her hand where it lay over his heart.

"Morning," she croaked, her throat sore and dry.

Clarke felt Bellamy stretch before disentangling himself from her arms and sitting on the edge of the bed. He turned to look at her, his dark eyes soft and worried.

"How do you feel this morning?"

"Terrible," she answered.

"You had me scared. I don't think you've ever been that sick," he said, his forehead wrinkling in concern.

"I must have picked up a virus at school, nothing to worry about," Clarke replied with a smile.

"Is there anything I can get you before I head out?"

"No, I think I'll go back to sleep. Are you going to work?"

"Uh, I've got to check in on some guys for Lynx," he said turning his head. "I'm gonna go grab a shower."

Clarke watched him leave, feeling nauseous for a completely different reason. She heard the shower turn on, and the bathroom door close. She turned on her side, her face buried in his pillow.

His scent was everywhere, enveloping her in balmy familiarity. She closed her eyes, a smile curving her lips. She should have been embarrassed about waking up in Bellamy's arms, but there was something so natural about it.

She lay there in the dark, her thoughts consumed by the dark haired man. She heard the shower cut off, and then she saw his frame filling her doorway before coming to lean over her.

Clarke sighed when he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his breath warm and minty on her face. One of his hands rested against her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

"Bye, Princess. I'll see you tonight," he said softly.

Before he could move away, Clarke grabbed a fistful of his white shirt - rubbing the soft material between her fingers.

"Be careful," she whispered.

She watched as he nodded, the movement causing his damp curls to fall across his forehead. She felt her breath catch, her hand falling as he turned to leave. He was beautiful, every scar and freckle that dotted his skin, and she loved him.

Her mouth was suddenly dry, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She was startled out of her realizations when Octavia came sailing into her room, plopping down at the foot of her bed.

"How are you feeling this morning? Bell told me to check on you."

"Much better," Clarke said, struggling to sit up.

"You look terrible," O said frankly.

"Gee thanks," the blonde grumbled.

"Did my brother stay here all night?"

Clarke blushed, her eyes moving to the indent still marking his pillow.