And It’s Like No Time Has Passed
without trying very hard at all you can see bob’s current Look™ in this
(ao3) (general warning for 4x13 spoilers just in case)
Bellamy looks up like he’s been caught, pushing up his glasses and smiling guiltily. For all the times Clarke drew him over the past six years– on every spare piece of scrap paper she could find, every blank stretch of wall in the lab– she never imagined him like this: hair shaggy and long, the sharpness of his jaw shadowed with stubble, wearing glasses.
Smiling, easy and relaxed.
It feels wrong that most of her memories of him are shadowed by tension, broad shoulders pulled tight, jaw muscle jumping, gaze hard and canny. A soldier in wartime. Her heart aches that she gets to see him like this, gets to see him at all.
“What are you trying to say, Princess?”
His voice makes her breath catch.
Six years of talking to an empty radio channel, hoping against hope that she’d hear his voice coming through, but never really expecting it to. And now he’s here, and he’s answering back, and it’s just– it’s a lot to take in.
“Leave it to Bellamy Blake to find his way straight to the armory,” she says with feigned exasperation, and he ducks his head, smiling. “Most of your crew is enjoying the feast we prepared for you guys, but not you.”
“You think I’m gonna waste my first chance in six years to really get away from Murphy?”
Clarke laughs and comes to stand next to him, watching as he meticulously cleans each piece of the gun before him, fingers deft and sure. It’s pretty hot, if Clarke is honest with herself.
And she’s learned to be very honest with herself the past few years.
They’re barely touching, his arm skimming hers every time he moves, but it sets her heart racing fast as ever.
Get it together, Griffin. You’re not seventeen anymore.