*video by ful.FILM.ent*
*Bellamy writes a journal to Clarke every week for 6 years*
*takes place during 5x05*
Clarke roll heavily in her sleeping bag. Madi lie beside her, resting peacefully, her eyes shut tightly as she dreamt of better days.
Clarke remembered them now. Teaching Madi to swim, the two of them playing in the water, eating sweet berries. It was perfect... almost. Each of her memories had a Bellamy sized hole in them.
She missed him every single day while he was on the ring.
She missed every part of him.
She missed the good and the bad.
Clarke sat up. She remembered calling him everyday. Part of her desperately wishing to hear his voice, and the other part knowing that he would never reply.
That hope though, it kept her going.
Bellamy had asked how she survived by herself for so long. She had lied.
She had told him that it was Madi, that kept her grounded.
That was only half true.
Madi had been her inspiration but Bellamy had been her salvation, her conscience, her heart.
Now he was back though, and Clarke hadn't had the courage to thank him.
He was the reason she had survived.
Clarke stood then, careful not to wake Madi and snuck out of her tent.
She walked toward Bellamy's tent. His torch was on.
Clarke walked inside tentatively, but found the room empty.
She sighed, and sat down heavily on Bellamy's sleeping bag.
She would wait until he returned. She couldn't chicken out again.
Clarke noticed she was sitting on something square and hard.
She pulled back Bellamy's sheets, curiosity getting the best of her.
Her hands clasped around a hard covered journal.
Bellamy's name was scrawled across the front of it.
Clarke had never seen his handwriting before.
She smiled, and opened the cover.
Dear Clarke,
Monty thinks that writing about my feelings will help me heal. Help me get over your... losing you. It's ridiculous. But I need everyone to stop looking at me like I'll break, or I might. What's the point of writing things you'll never read. The only person I want to talk to about this is you.
We've all lost people we care about, but somehow this is different.
I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't breathe.
Tell me how writing you a letter is supposed to change that? \
- Bellamy
Clarke gasped, shutting the book quickly.
YOU ARE READING
The Slowest Burn - Bellarke
FanfictionJust a bunch of angsty, saucy, fluffy short stories about everyone's favourite slow burn ship. Literally slow burn- CENTURIES OLD. Add this bad boi to your library if you want some wish fulfilment bellarke, skip around, enjoy the emotional torment f...
