share my heart
A/N: i was forced at gunpoint tonight to write a s4 drabble about bellarke realizing how the other feels about them. Rated T. WC: 1455.
Somehow, quiet is always around Bellamy. It’s like he wears it on his shoulders, along with all the pain and hurt and guilt. She doesn’t know if he’s even aware he projects it. All she knows is when she’s sitting with him like she is tonight, sorting meat packages into piles for storage for Alpha Station’s five years weathering out the storm, everything just feels calmer.
“Pass me the checklist,” Bellamy rumbles, nudging her hand with his. It’s the first thing either of them have said for the past half hour.
She obliges, and he squints at it.
“We’ve got to sort those.” He points. Clarke glances around. “Into different kinds of meat. We forgot to do that.”
“Then we have to do it again,” she exhales, and rakes a hand through her hair, nails digging into her own scalp. That will take another twenty minutes at least. Heavy frustration washes over her in a wave. There’s too much to do. Too many small details to iron out. “There’s not enough time.”
She hears him taking a deep breath— it’s no secret that they’re both counting down the minutes. But when he speaks, his voice is even. “There’ll be plenty of time soon enough. Five years, to be exact.”
She looks up, finds him watching her, dark eyes unreadable, and nods, her throat still feeling tight.
They resume sorting, but this time, it’s his shoulders that are drawn tight, and Clarke feels terrible right then for reminding him how little time they had, as if he weren’t already thinking about it every moment of the day. She scrambles for something to say to distract him. “What do you think you’ll do?”
Bellamy looks up, quirks up a brow.
She clarifies. “What do you think you’ll do with those five years?”