The guilt sat not on her chest but inside her brain. What she had done she could not un- do. She didn't feel like she deserved forgiveness after what she had said to him.
The guilt was like a stain on her, an ugly scar but she had to believe, and hope that he would forgive her. She searched the camp for him. Laughter rose up from the far side of the camp. Clarke turned to see Wells, Monty and Jasper perched on a low tree branch, giggling as they swatted at Murphy attempting to climb up and join them. Nearby, a bunch of other kids were playing a game which Clarke couldn't quite understand. They all seemed happy. For a moment, Clarke smiled until Octavia came into view from her tent, she felt a twinge of regret that soon she and Bellamy would be leaving camp and it would all be her fault. "Clarke, you have to talk to him, okay ?" The only reason he's like that is because those words were said by you and not anyone else. He cares what you think of him." Octavia said. Clarke was drowned by her thoughts to figure out that Octavia had approached her and was standing beside her. "
It won't change a thing O, he hates me now, Im sorry I hurt your brother," replied Clarke, her voice breaking. " Listen, Im not going to leave camp, plus you promised you'd help him when the ark comes down and its coming soon. Just go say you're sorry Clarke, he's in his tent." Octavia said while pointing where Bellamy was and left to join Wells and the others. Clarke took a deep breathe and headed towards Bellamy's tent.
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A heavy silence settled over them inside the tent, thicker than the uneasy atmosphere. They both unceremoniously glanced around and tried to avoid each others glances. Bellamy was on his makeshift bed, he had gestured for Clarke to join him and they were both quiet, dominated by a profound sadness, fatigue engraved on his worn face. " You see," began Bellamy, his deep voice slicing the silence that had settled for what seemed like eons." Of all people, with the exception of O, ofcourse, it was you Clarke Griffin, daughter of a council member, who told me that I was wrong, that I was not a monster." Clarke had believed in him,believed in his worth. He saw through his mask, knocked over his walls and unveiled the person he truly was inside. Something Bellamy thought no one would ever do, something he thought no one would ever care enough about to try. " And then you said I was a monster, which is true, I did want to kill that grounder even though all he did was help."
" Bellamy," said Clarke, streaming tears cleansed her red cheeks. Free droplets remained, forgetting their way as the path was swept from beneath them, consequently blurring her visions with waves of sadness. The salty release calmly flowed into her mouth so that she could taste her own sorrow.
" O doesn't want to leave, atleast until we meet with their commander as the grounder had suggested."
"Please, dont leave, whatever I .... I said–I was angry Bel, I didn't mean it, really, you have to believe me. I need you here when we go meet with the grounders." said a sobbing Clarke. She looks so vulnerable. Thought Bellamy to himself. He'd never really seen her cry, Clarke was always empathetic, determined and strong-willed. This is a whole new Clarke. He pulled her closer and she instinctively hugged him tight. Bellamy ran his fingers through her blonde hair, flowing, and smelled like earth. Her hug was stronger than anything he'd ever known, as if holding her wasn't quite enough, he had to feel every ounce that she pressed into every ounce that is him. In that moment of feeling her so close he was awake somehow, more alive than he'd been in so very long. He felt a hot breathe on his neck, then the tender brush of lips burning as they made contact with his neck. A hand ran through his hair, as the kisses became harder and more urgent. Bellamy slid his hands around her waist and pulled her onto his lap.
•————————•
Clarke didn't know what happened. When he pulled her closer to him, she knew at that moment that she wanted more of Bellamy. She wanted to feel him, all of him and without thinking, she started kissing his neck. She was scared of how he was going to react to this but she cared less at that moment. Clarke just needed him. She'd never had such a need, it was foreign but she liked how it felt.
Before she could withdraw her mind from its far places, his arms were around her, she felt a rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth that left her limp. He bent back her head across his arm and kissed her, softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him as the only solid thing in a dizzy swaying world. His insistent mouth was parting her shaking sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling.
" Guys, the er—,the meeting's about to start," said a wide-eyed Octavia before leaving.
