Chapter Text
The first time Bellamy found himself in her room, it had been two weeks since she left.
They had been cleaning out the chancellor’s office since she was no longer there to fill it, making space for Kane, for Abby, and for a little bit of himself even if he didn’t feel like he deserved it.
He’d dug out a barely used notebook, small sketches in the margins next to lists of things to do, to make, to explore. It makes him smile for a moment, reminding him of the plans they had for a future they had hoped to build. Together.
Flipping the book closed, his lips tug down into a frown, the memories quickly turning sour as he remembers her walking away. Away from the camp, from her makeshift family, from him.
He shoves the book into his back pocket, continuing to search through the office, before wandering towards her room, if he could even call it that anymore.
Pausing at the doorway, Bellamy took a breath, almost reaching out to knock before mentally kicking himself. He pushed the door open and exhaled.
Nobody had been in here for weeks, maybe longer, with the possibility that Clarke had been sleeping in the office or on the workshop bench while he was away in Mount Weather. The room was in disarray; discarded clothing piled on and around a chair in the corner, an assortment of books strewn across her desk and bed. Even the small bookshelf was unorganized, things shoved together haphazardly, dead flowers in jars, more obvious signs that she wasn’t spending her time here relaxing.
Sighing, he stepped in, and pulled the notebook from his pocket. The room smelled like her, ever so faintly, and he didn't want to explore how he could pick that up, or why it calmed him, if just for a moment. Without really thinking he sat at the foot of her bed, staring at nothing while simultaneously taking in the whole space. He could feel the emotions churning in his chest, anger and sadness and longing, guilt and hurt, all of it twisting together until he felt short of breath.
Together hadn’t meant anything, and now he was here to bear it all alone.
He wanted to scream, ask her why why why she thought he could do this without her. All of the unspoken things between them, and this one he could just not understand. Anger coursed through him, deep and thunderous. His hands clenched at his sides as he recalled their last conversation, his mind whirling while he tried to figure out what he could have done differently. He remembers her lips pressing to his cheek, how he had wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her there, wondering if he had just turned his head, just showed her how much he needed her there, would she have still gone? Chucking the notebook onto the bed he got up, slamming the door on his way out.