( when Bellamy tells her to communicate if it's too much, she imagines that he doesn't mean it in the way that overwhelms her. because it isn't the sound of Bellamy's pulse on either side of her face, it isn't the rush of blood in his veins, it isn't the warmth of his closeness, it's that she's so suddenly reminded of Jason that something in her breaks.
she had been trying so hard to keep her hands tightly wound around her grief, pushing it down to a dull murmur, but in one movement, one touch, Bellamy unleashes it. because it's something Jason did with her many times, a gesture that was given often, and all she can think of is how much her chest aches in his absence, how half of her feels so very absent. her grief had been crippling when she was still human, but it feels amplified now, bigger than her entire person, and Clarke wonders how she's meant to keep it all inside of her.
hands lifting, her fingers curl around Bellamy's wrists, and the tears come quickly, hot down her cheeks, and the sob rattles in her chest. it's a desperate noise, a broken one, and Clarke's grip tightens on Bellamy, gripping him like a lifeline as she cries. )
I promised. ( her head ducks down, away from his, because even just staying like that hurts so much more than she wants to admit. ) I promised to protect him and I couldn't. I couldn't keep my promise. ( every part of her starts to tremble, hands shaking as she holds his wrists. ) I tried to bring him back and I failed and died and I can't try again. I can't bring him back. I promised.
[Bellamy knows what he might have done before when this happens. Even now, that instinct is there, to pull her in close and wrap his arms around her. Her grip on his wrists is telling and he knows what it means, and the sounds that escape her cut through his chest in a way different from before. This is everything she's been trying so hard to keep away.]
Clarke. You didn't break your promise. [He does his best to sound like there is no room for argument here, his tone doing a better job than his voice which still sounds damaged, like his throat's been torn. He cups her face a little tighter with one hand, enough to get his point across hopefully without being too much, and the other moves slowly and gently towards the back of her head, but he doesn't pull her up to look at him, not yet.]
What happened - what's happening, it's not something you can control, okay? It's not on you.
[The choice to test the shard is on her, maybe, but he doesn't see it as a failure or a broken promise. Just dangerous desperation, born out of things that aren't her fault.]
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she had been trying so hard to keep her hands tightly wound around her grief, pushing it down to a dull murmur, but in one movement, one touch, Bellamy unleashes it. because it's something Jason did with her many times, a gesture that was given often, and all she can think of is how much her chest aches in his absence, how half of her feels so very absent. her grief had been crippling when she was still human, but it feels amplified now, bigger than her entire person, and Clarke wonders how she's meant to keep it all inside of her.
hands lifting, her fingers curl around Bellamy's wrists, and the tears come quickly, hot down her cheeks, and the sob rattles in her chest. it's a desperate noise, a broken one, and Clarke's grip tightens on Bellamy, gripping him like a lifeline as she cries. )
I promised. ( her head ducks down, away from his, because even just staying like that hurts so much more than she wants to admit. ) I promised to protect him and I couldn't. I couldn't keep my promise. ( every part of her starts to tremble, hands shaking as she holds his wrists. ) I tried to bring him back and I failed and died and I can't try again. I can't bring him back. I promised.
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Clarke. You didn't break your promise. [He does his best to sound like there is no room for argument here, his tone doing a better job than his voice which still sounds damaged, like his throat's been torn. He cups her face a little tighter with one hand, enough to get his point across hopefully without being too much, and the other moves slowly and gently towards the back of her head, but he doesn't pull her up to look at him, not yet.]
What happened - what's happening, it's not something you can control, okay? It's not on you.
[The choice to test the shard is on her, maybe, but he doesn't see it as a failure or a broken promise. Just dangerous desperation, born out of things that aren't her fault.]