BELLAMY:
I knew that pushing Clarke away was a bad idea, but I still did. It was also wrong because she had absoulutly not done anything she shouldn't have. I just...I felt so wierd! Like I couldn't control the things that were happening, and as a leader who were used to having controll over things, this was so god damn frusturating. I felt like I was a grenade, just waiting to go off. I didn't get much sleep that night. I kept thinking about everything. What happends now? What were we suppose to do? Just go on? I didn't know. Most of all, I thought about Clarke. She had every right to not want anything to do with me anymore. I'd treated her badly more than once. She derseved better. But god, how I wished she would forgive me.
CLARKE:
I got up early the next day. Not that I had been sleeping at all. I tried to find something to do. Just...anything to destract my thoughts from Bellamy. Easier said, then done. Just as I walked out of my tent, there he was. I almost ran right into him. I managed to stop right before our bodys met.
"Woah! Slow down, Rushy" he laughed, like nothing between us was wrong. There was nobody else around. Everybody else were probably still sleeping. The air was cold, but the sun was peeking over the hill, bringing some warm sun rays.
"Sorry" I muttered.
He obviously noticed the tension between us wasn't normal, because he dropped the act.
"Look, I know I was a douch to you yesterday... I just, I don't, I need,"
"What? You need what?" I interrupted him, annoyed by his hesitation.
"I don't know... I don't...I don't feel normal! I have this constant ache in my head, and a bad feeling, and I just think,"
"You don't think, Bellamy! That's the problem!"
"You're wrong! I do think! About you!"
I wasn't expecting that and I couldn't think of a response.
"Clarke..you're all I think about! I pushed you away because I thought it was the best for you and I know it was wrong...you made me realize that yesterday" he continued, his voice full of sincerity. And I believed him. After all, everything he had ever done for Octavia, was done out of love for her. I looked at him, not knowing what to say. And he didn't seem to think I should say anything either, because he took my hand, lead me back towards his tent. When we reached it, and went inside, he dragged me against him.
"Bell," I started.
"Tell me to stop, Clarke" he whispered in my ear, his lips brushing against them as he did. I didn't want him to stop. He moved his lips slowly from my ear to my neck and he kissed it gently.
"Tell me to stop, cause if you don't, I won't" he said between to kisses.
I tilted my head to the side so my neck would seem longer. I didn't want it to end. His pushed my jacket off in one drag and his lips moved from my neck, down to my shoulder. I grabbed the line of his jeans and pulled him closer. He moved his face up to meet mine and smirked.
"What?" I asked, because he wouldn't stop looking at me.
"Does this mean you forgive me?" he smiled cheeky.
"Temporarily forgotten" I answered with perky lips.
I pushed him down towards his makeshift bed in sitting position and sat on top of him, straddling him. He put his arms around me, pressing them against my back so I would get closer. I let my hands hang over his shoulders as I moved my lips down to his. Our lips moved in a synchronized dance, just like they always did. He let out a groan when our lips parted for two seconds and then they met again, with more passion and sensuality then ever. This was more than just a make out. This was us, opening ourselves to each other. Allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. My fingers tangled themselves into his hair. We shifted position as he laid me down on his bed, him on top. I dragged him down to me, but he was set on getting my shirt of first. He was about to pull it over my head, when he suddently stopped. He pushed his palms to his head over his ears, pressing them forcefully in.
"Bellamy?! Is it happening again?" I rushed up to him. He managed to nod and then he pointed at the back of his head. I looked and then I saw that there was a small glow coming from his cut, which was stiched up and almost healed. Then is stopped and he relaxed again.
"Clarke! It's a fucking countdown! This time there was only seven!" He panted out.
"Countdown for what?" I asked, with a perplexed look.
"I don't know...It all started when we got back to camp"
Them suddently everything made sense.
"Bellamy! We got to open that wound again! Fast!" I hysterically yelled as I figured it out.
Their hole plan was to get Bellamy back to camp. They waited for us to find him. Bellamy was the trigger. He set fot into camp, and the countdown began. Someone planned it all. Bellamy was a walking bomb on two feet, ready to blow this hole camp up. Somebody planted a fucking bomb in his brain. And I had to get it out. NOW!
