Valia, you’re gonna get this with canon-verse, because it makes my writing a lot more trashy :))
Bellamy and Clarke: Show me a garden that’s bursting into life
Beautiful tones flowed from the antique radio that Raven and Wick had spent a week fixing -greeting Bellamy and Clarke as they left The Fallen Ark to finally join their friends, who had settled around to fire to happy ignore the business of the council meeting - Fortunately, their two leaders took care of everything like that.
But that didn’t mean that the pressure that came along with being (somewhat) in charge hadn’t taken a toll on both of them - their frowns growing deeper and the circles underneath their eyes darker with each day, “are you okay, Clarke? You look-“
“Dead?” She mumbled and leant back to the sound of the quiet music, feeling Bellamy’s soft gaze on her; it wasn’t hard for her to imagine the look of it when a rather large variety of his facial expressions over time had been carved into her mind. They were familiar, and she could not possibly define how completely relaxing it was to know that there at least was some things in her life that didn’t cause her veins to fill with worry; things that didn’t scare her or put weight on her shoulders.
Pulling a small smile, she looked back at him, noticing from his position next to her that some of the muscles of his arms were still tense - he hated being on the council, which she knew despite his attempt to hide it; hated identifying himself as a part of the people, who had taken so lives back when The Ark was still floating around space, the people who had killed his mother and ripped Octavia from his arms.
But he did it for their friends - therefore, he refused to talk whenever she dared to confront him about it. Words could not express how deeply she admired him for that, so instead she took his hand in hope that the message would come through, and also that maybe it would help him relax a little more. At the touch; her fingers, small and thin, slipping through his - the intensity of his eyes on her, deepened, reminding her of the night of her return from Mount Weather with their brief talk around the fire: it had to be done… However, instead of that, both of their gazes spoke words, which were frankly even more reassuring: You are not alone.
“Pass mom and dad the moonshine!” The sound of Jasper’s voice (he was clearly tipsy - yet since Maya’s death, people had gotten used to him in that state) tore their gazes from each other, and Bellamy took the quite big bottle that Raven handed him without hesitance, a smile on her lips. The nicknames were a long story that neither of them knew all the details to, however they had gotten used to them eventually.
We’ll do it all.
On our own.
We don’t need anything or anyone…
Suddenly, the voice singing the words of the song became clear enough to understand; if it was that - or how Bellamy’s eyes lingered on her as she passed the alcohol on to Miller the fourth time - that sent shivers down her spine was uncertain. Her hand was kept in his through the next round as well until she felt his hot breath graze the skin close to her ear, “dance with me?” it took her some long seconds to comprehend the seriousness of his request, but when she did, despite being slightly baffled, she turned to him slowly - her ocean blue eyes beaming - and nodded.
They got up, ignoring the whispering from their friends as they stepped away, (as far as they could while being able to hear the music) off to the side.
She was aware that he couldn’t breathe, but it was okay, since she couldn’t either, her jaw slacking a bit when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer ‘til the fabric of her shirt rubbed against his chest. Trying to avoid his magnetic eyes, Clarke chose to focus on the words coming from the radio again.
I don’t quite know
how to say
how I feel
Those three words are said too much
but not enough…
Honestly, she wasn’t sure when they had begun to move, swaying carefully with every tone. The smile growing upon his lips was one thing she couldn’t ignore, and soon she found herself unable to focus on anything but him. Upon her return from Polis, their relationship had suffered from lack of trust, which you could only blame her for, except Bellamy didn’t blame her - never had. It was a wound that hadn’t quite healed yet, however this somehow told her that they were on the right track.
If I lay here
if I just lay here
would you lie with me and just forget the world?
The nightmares were endless for both of them - but they only realized it one night when Clarke had snuck into his tent, the ocean within her eyes overflowing with superfluous tears. He’d said nothing, simply scooting over to make room for her, and his breathing had become calmer at her presence - the handholding had started like that, too. Every morning, they would wake up, their limbs entangled in many different ways - still, it was just their fingers that got to stay that way. They never talked about sleeping in the same tent every night, and Clarke never mentioned having felt him run his fingers through her hair on more than one occasion.
Forget what we’re told before we get too old
show me a garden that’s bursting into life
That was just how it was. There was no need to question it - at least not right then…