Bellarke One Shots Book 1

17) After the fall

A/N not my story

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i.

It's been 43 days since the night of Finn's tragic conclusion.

17 days since the survivors of the Ark led a rescue mission that freed the remaining 100 of Mount Weather, and destroyed the evil that grew within their cryptic society.

And exactly 14 days since Clarke Griffin began a convenient routine in order to distract herself from the chaos around her - with sex.

It's a cool spring night, but she can't control the heat that rolls from her body as the boy above her holds her close. Clarke wraps her arms around his neck, and she buries her face in his neck, avoiding the intensity of his eyes. She remembers the boys face, remembers sleeping with him a few nights ago, remembers teaching him how to properly hold a gun when they first began their training, but the one thing she doesn't seem to remember?

His name.

Maybe it's for the better, she thinks, not knowing things that can get someone attached. It's not as if she intends on keeping this relationship with him, if you can even call that, but for now the act of his hips thrusting against her own is enough to make her forget why she's even doing it.

He collapses against her in a drawn out groan, his chest sliding on hers in a last attempt at friction. She follows shortly after, her finger nails digging into his skin as the memories of pain and despair release from her in an undeserving pleasure. She sighs aloud, her mind cloudy as he rolls off her, his hands resting beneath his head. She's thankful for the few seconds of blank space that surrounds her as she comes down for her high, thankful for the free atmosphere of death and grief. She closes her eyes, and it's the only time that she can rest when she doesn't see Finn's face in her mind, doesn't see the light leave his gaze that once looked at her with love.

But, just like his life, it all ends too shortly.

The permanent feelings of hopelessness return, as does the empty feeling in her heart. She misses the state of oblivion the moment it dissolves, and then she's back in the realistic version of herself - the Clarke that fears, the Clarke that sins, the Clarke that kills.

The boy doesn't look at her as she lifts herself from the mattress they rest on in his tent, and she's not sure if she's grateful or insulted by his lack of respect. She bends to grab her pants and slips one leg in before she pulls them up around her waist. She finds her shirt and jacket in a pile at the entrance of the tent, her shoes nearby. Without looking back and without looking forward, she disappears from his sight, entering the cool breeze of midnight that surrounds her outside.

Camp Jaha is lit up in it's usual setting, with few guards positioned around the outline of the fence. Since the declining threat of the Grounders and Mountain Men, the council decided to limit the amount of guards that protect the camp, the only real fear out there being the elements of earth they've yet to discover.

Clarke sighs as she looks at the familiar scene around here, wishing she could leave, take her troubles with her, and lose herself in the curiosity of the woods. Even with security settled comfortably on the camp, the Ark and 100 survivors are still limited to the outside, only being allowed to leave if given permission or for hunting.

Clarke lays her eyes on a fresh patch of grass a couple feet away from her and starts to move towards it in the darkness. Not yet wanting to return to her tent, and to the sleep that never comes, she settles on the landscape, her arms wrapping around her legs she she admires the moon above her. She feels as if the light from the sky is tracing her scars, and she shields her face, resting her chin on her knees.