Bellarke One Shots

I Only Have a Moment, I'll Spend It With You (#2)

Bellamy watched as Clarke left the room. She had been the epitome of clam during the meeting, but he knew her too well to be fooled completely, so he followed her out of the room and walked beside her—not saying anything, just being by her side. Clarke, sensing what he wanted, made a few turns and led them to an isolated room where they could talk in peace.

"What is it?" she asked, still trying to be casual. Her eyes wouldn't quite meet his.

"I think I should be asking you that," he replied gently, stepping closer.

Clarke sighed heavily. "There's always something, Bellamy. It just how life works on the ground."

He frowned. "But something specific for you right now."

Seeming exasperated, she threw up her and said, "Well, you heard all the people at the meeting. Everything's riding on this mission. I have to get it right or it's over."

"We have to. Clarke, you're not fighting this battle alone."

"But it's me who's leading the charge." A stray hair fell into her face as she dropped her gaze, and his fingers twitched with the urge to brush it away.

"I'll be right by your side, if you want me there," he reminded her, hands carefully at his sides.

She finally met his gaze, and it occurred to Bellamy she was closer to him than she had been a second ago, though he didn't remember moving. He could've nearly touched her hand just by extending her fingers. "I know," she murmured, and through the sadness playing at her mouth, a small smile touched her eyes.

A moment passed, and Clarke sighed again, but this one sounded more like the beginning of a sob. She hung her head on his chest. "I don't want to mess this up, Bellamy." Her voice, barely a whisper, sounded just inches from shattering.

Instinctively, Bellamy wrapped an arm around her waist and ran his over hand over hair in what he hoped were soothing motions. "Not easy, is it?" he murmured with his cheek against the top of her head. Her arms went around his back and she pressed herself closer to him, which was all the response he needed.

"I'm here," he whispered now, in case he forgot.

Clarke started to say something only to be interrupted by a voice down the hall, yelling their names. She froze instantly, but Bellamy gripped her tighter, trying to say, You can have a moment longer, it's all right.

The voice called out a few more times, getting increasingly quieter as the footsteps trailed away. Bellamy and Clarke remained still for a few more seconds, nothing passing between then except rhythmic inhales and exhales, then Clarke murmured against his shirt, "We should see what they want."

"All right," he said, even though he'd rather stand with her like this for days on end. He pressed his lips to her hair briefly and disengaged, an imprint of her still on his skin, a tattoo across his body.

She was a mark he never wanted to wash off.