Sick Day||Bellamy & Clarke
Bellamy woke up next to Clarke. Sweat was soaking through his sheets. Clarke was curled against him, and if he didn’t feel so sick he would take some time and revel in the wonder of Clarke. Trying not to wake her he scrambled out of bed and pulled on some pants. Bellamy ran out of his tent and went as close to the edge as he could get. Once he got there he proceeded to throw up. He felt weak but made his way back to the tent where he was faced with an alert Clarke. “Sorry I woke you.” he apologized in a whisper. She looked concern to him, but sick in her own way. “I just got sick.” He admitted with a flush. “Are you feeling okay though? You look sick yourself.” He asked her
Clarke startled awake when she felt the bed move. She turned over sleepily and reached out for Bellamy and found an empty soaked sheet. Clarke sat up in the bed fast. Something was wrong, at least she thought so and she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. However with sitting up so fast brought on a pounding headache and Wells. “But your dead, this isn’t possible.” She said aloud to herself, rationality taking over what she actually saw. Just then Bellamy entered the tent. He was sick, with flu like symptoms and of course was wondering if she was okay. “It’s okay, just come back in bed.” Clarke said shaking her head and scooting over, trying to focus on Bellamy and only him, not the hallucination of Wells. She felt a dip as the weight shifted in the cot. “I’m mostly fine I think. My head hurts a lot and this is going to sound insane but I see Wells. Like he’s right there in the corner.” Clarke said as she pointed to the corner right of the tent. “Clearly that’s irrational because he died but yet he’s right there, I’m hallucinating my dead best friend. But don’t worry about me, not yet, at least not until I start not knowing what’s rational. Just let me take care of you.” Clarke said soothing his crinkled lines of worry by rubbing at them and placing a kiss on his forehead, his balmy forehead.
