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If it weren’t for the tingle on his lips, he might’ve thought she’d never been there at all.
CHAPTER 22
Bellamy
Even with the crackle of the flames, the silence was unbearable.
He wanted to ask her why she’d done it. Why she’d lied about Lilly. But whenever he tried to shape his thoughts into words, they died on his lips.
Eventually, he’d grabbed his bow and a few arrows and went in search of something for dinner. By the time he returned with a rabbit slung over his shoulder, Clarke had spread out their bedrolls. He noticed with a strange mix of relief and disappointment that she’d placed them far apart.
Twilight had settled over the trees, and the small campfire glowed in welcome. Clarke was sitting on the ground, turning a watch over in her hand. He wondered where she’d gotten it, and if it had to do with what she’d said before, about her parents having been on the first mission to Earth. The light from the flames flickered across her face, momentarily illuminating what might’ve been a tear running down her cheek. But when she spoke, her voice was steady. “Thanks,” she said, nodding at the rabbit, quickly rubbing her eye with the back of her hand.
Bellamy nodded, but didn’t speak as he skinned the rabbit and began methodically placing the chunks of meat on a sharp stick.
“Want me to do that?” Clarke asked as she watched him crouch over the fire.
He winced as a small cloud of ash blew into his face. “I’ve got it under control.”
“And all this time, I thought you just stood around looking pretty.”
“What?” Bellamy jerked around to face Clarke, ignoring the sizzle of the meat that was now burning.
“Sorry,” Clarke said quickly. “It was a joke. Everyone knows that you’re the reason we’re still alive.”
“No, it’s not that.” Bellamy turned to salvage the rabbit, before it turned into a charred crisp. I thought you just stood around looking pretty. “It just… you made me think of something.” He spoke so quietly, she probably hadn’t even heard him over the crackle of the fire, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to remember in peace.
“Come on,” Bellamy panted. He pulled Lilly around a corner, then paused to let them catch their breath. “You… okay?”
She nodded, too winded to speak.
“We… need… to… keep… moving,” Bellamy said between gasps.
He’d been an idiot to sneak Lilly onto Phoenix. But he’d be worse than an idiot if he didn’t get her off.
He’d be a killer.
He should’ve thought it through. He should’ve been practical. But the wistful look that appeared in her eyes every time she talked about reading had melted any sense of reason away. She’d been dying to return to the Phoenix library ever since she saw it in elementary tutorial years ago.
The thud of approaching footsteps made them both jump. “Let’s just leave the book and run for it,” Bellamy said, pulling her down the hall. “That’s really what they care about. They might not come after us if they get it back.”
Lilly hugged the heavy book to her chest. It was bound in green cloth—the color that always looked so striking against Lilly’s dark red hair. “No way,” she said. “I’ve been looking for this one for years. I need to know whether she ends up with the boy who called her ‘Carrots.’ ”
“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll go find a blond. Redheads are nothing but trouble.” Bellamy grinned and reached for the book. “Give it to me. That thing is half your weight… Carrots.”
She shoved it at him with a smile. “It’s about time. I didn’t bring you so you could stand around looking pretty.”
He grinned, but before he could respond, a shout rang out from around the corner. “They went this way!”
Bellamy and Lilly broke into a sprint.
“There they are, up ahead!”
“Oh my god,” Lilly panted. “They’re going to catch us.”
“No, they’re not.” Bellamy tightened his grip on Lilly’s hand and sped up, pulling her along with him.
They careened around another corner, and then darted into an alcove behind the stairwell. Bellamy dropped the book and wrapped his arms around the trembling Lilly, pressing them both against the wall, praying to whoever was listening that the guards wouldn’t look their way. Lilly shut her eyes as the footsteps grew louder, and the guards’ shouts more urgent.
But then the sounds faded. The guards had run right past them.
Bellamy remained silent for another minute to be safe, then exhaled loudly. “It’s okay,” he murmured, stroking Lilly’s wavy red hair. “We’re going to be okay.”
“I can’t be Confined,” she said hollowly, still shaking.
“You won’t be.” Bellamy tightened his hold. “I won’t let them.”
“I’d rather die than be a prisoner.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Bellamy chided with a smile. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
She’d turned to him, her eyes full of tears, and nodded. He bent his head down to kiss her flushed forehead and said it again. “I promise.”
He turned to face Clarke. She was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, fiddling with the watch.
“She made you promise, didn’t she?” Bellamy said.
Clarke looked up, startled to hear him speak. But then understanding dawned on her face, and she nodded slowly.
“She made you promise that you’d… end her suffering.”
“Yes.” Clarke took a deep breath, then continued. “She couldn’t take it anymore. She hated the pain, but more than that she hated not being in control of her life. She didn’t want to be a prisoner in the lab.” The note of pain in Clarke’s voice was the same that rang in his heart.
Clarke wasn’t lying, he realized. The Lilly he knew was strong, but begging Clarke for mercy was, in its own way, an act of strength. The Lilly he knew would have rather died than become a sick, helpless test subject.
And Bellamy had never even stopped to consider how terrible that must have been for Clarke, having a friend ask her for something like that. He would never forgive the Vice Chancellor, or any of the people responsible for the horrific experiments that’d taken Lilly’s life, but he knew now that it wasn’t Clarke’s fault. She’d loved Lilly as much as he had. She’d loved her enough to do the terrible, painful thing her friend had asked for.
Bellamy walked over and sat down next to Clarke. “I’m sorry I said those things to you,” he said, looking into the fire.
Clarke shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said. “I deserved most of it.”
“No. You didn’t deserve any of it.” He sighed as Clarke reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “And I certainly don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Bellamy,” she said, and her tone made him look up. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.” Her brow furrowed, and Bellamy wondered if she was thinking of Wells.
“I know, but—”
“I’m going to need you to shut up now,” she said, and kissed him.
Bellamy closed his eyes, letting his lips say everything he was too stupid or stubborn to put into words.
He pulled gently on her lower lip. I’m sorry.
He moved his mouth to the soft spot under her jaw. I was an idiot.
He kissed the hollow of her neck. I want you.
Her breathing was growing heavy, and every time his lips brushed against a new patch of skin, she shivered.
He lowered his mouth to her ear. I love you.
It wasn’t enough. He wanted her to hear him say it. He wanted to hear himself say it. Bellamy drew back and took Clarke’s face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispered, staring into eyes that were aglow with firelight, and something else.
“I love you too.”
Bellamy kissed her again, a little harder this time, repeating his proclamation every time his lips pressed against a new sliver of skin. With the fire crackling beside them, he placed his hand behind her head, and lowered her to the ground.
