divided | ( the body heat meme )

Don't get any ideas. [It's muffled when it comes out, seeing how she's got her face hidden in the woolen fabric of his sweater, but she hopes it still audible. It's not like she hasn't fixed up the heating system all across the remains of the Ark, not like her workshop isn't hot during the day. But at night, everything gets colder, and not even going to bed in the thickest clothes available and wrapping herself up in both a couple of blankets and his arms helps. Usually.

She misses autumn, in hindsight. She had hated autumn, with the leaves getting in between the straps of her brace, and the mud that caked after an hour, and the fucking rain. But she misses that, in comparison to the winter's freezing weather. It was only cute the first time it snowed, now it no longer is.

Maybe it's got a lot to do with needing someone in bed with her to survive this cold. Maybe it's because she's needed him too often, for the wrong reasons, and she's starting to dread that it'll be their thing. But, they're friends. In all honesty, he might be the only best friend she has.

Still. When she says don't get any ideas, in reality she means otherwise.]

[ they'd anticipated winter to be the worst yet — although, it's a little hard to compare it to any other winter when the ark never really allowed for seasons. at first, bellamy had acted like a kid with the snow, unable to really be pulled from it. he liked how white it was, and how it seemed to melt beneath his feet, sometimes crunching like the dry leaves during autumn. he liked how he could throw a snowball at octavia and see her smile again. but he's started to dislike it with how easily it becomes stained with red. ]

[ he figures it'll pass like it's meant to. but he doesn't make dealing with the chill any easier on himself. rather than bundle himself up in blankets or even layers, anything he gets for himself he often gives to octavia or raven or somone else who needs it more than him. he doesn't really need much when raven chooses to ensure his feet are never quite cold when he slides down his or her bed and lets them dangle over the side, nipped by air and kicked by her own toes. ]

[ if he isn't meant to get any ideas, then he supposes he's simply broken yet another rule on the ark. he hooks his foot with hers and refuses to move it. his arms remain around her, hands flat on the fabric of her back. bellamy may be complimented for being so warm most of the time, but his hands have always been cold. sometimes he thinks about shoving them into the snow to see if the blood staining his hands will finally come off. ]

[ looking above her head, he doesn't think to move. ] What kind of ideas would those be? We both know I'm not the idea guy.

[He's picked the wrong leg to hook his around, because she can barely tell. It's tragic, because all the while she thinks that she might like it. Hell, no, she does like it. The way he wraps himself around her, tangled up together in their sins and the blood on their hands.

The difference if that Raven only blames herself, personally, for one death. He blames himself for many more. It's a wonder he's agreed to share the bed with her at all, since this falls under the category of 'nice things', which he seems determined to think he doesn't deserve any of anymore.]

No, you're the ideas guy, because you let them flood your skull instead of filtering them.

Yeah.

[ it's clear he doesn't believe that. what he does have faith in, though, is instinct. he may question his from time to time, wondering if he is leading those around him astray, but it feels right to curl into raven. he doesn't think about her leg, which may or may not be where he makes his first mistake. he doesn't think to roll them or to even tell her she's lying on the wrong side. he's seen so many people in the wreckage of the ark look at her and then down at her leg. though bellamy doesn't need to when his foot hooks with hers, he doesn't think to. ]

[ the way she chooses to lie is right. he's never really thought of any of her personal choices as being wrong — save for the ones that are often solely dependent on him. most of the time, though, bellamy just accepts them. it's hard to doubt one of the very few people he's never really questioned when it comes to her gut. ]

[ he shifts closer, it being instinct to do so. his hands remain flat against her back as his other leg stretches behind him, moving beneath the sheets and pulling them from where they've been tucked underneath the mattress. he tilts his head slightly down, but doesn't move. ] Sounds like my head's heavy with crap. I wouldn't listen to me.

[She wasn't good at pillow talk before, but apparently she sucks at it even more when it's before -- or without -- anything sordid happens. They jump from one bad excuse to the next bad segue and she stiffles the instinct to tell him to rub his hands against her back until they're warmer.

Except she scoffs, because he keeps moving and moving.] Why're you so fidgety? [She pulls back a little, her nose and her cheeks a little redder from being hidden under the blankets and in his sweater, where it's warmer than outside. It makes her narrowing her eyes look probably a little silly, but -- whatever.

She raises her eyebrow, just one, and teases,] Anyone might think you're nervous, shooter.

About?

[ bellamy has too much to be nervous about. he fidgets when he's meant to be still. he twists his hands together when he wants to rest his arms by his sides. he taps his foot more in irritation. he used to be quiet and undetectable until he had crash landed with the rest of them onto the ground. there's something about being in the ark again, regardless of how broken it may be, that has him wanting to run. ]

[ he knows he doesn't want to fall back into old habits of remaining as a ghost to the council and as a neighbour to those of section 17. it's a little difficult now, what with those from his own unit having dropped in numbers, and kane seeming to like him more and more for what happened in mount weather. life is different, and he supposes letting people in properly has been the biggest change of all. even though he'd once had someone to help warm his sheets on the ground, it's changed. ]

[ he doesn't feel like himself, even though bellamy's beginning to wonder who that is anymore. ]

[ he sighs and purposefully stills. his voice is warm, slightly amused, as he smiles. ] I'm just trying to get warm. [ he shifts his head and pulls back from her slightly. it's been tempting to rest his chin against her head, but he's refrained from doing so for now. looking at her with an arch to his brow and a smile forming on his lips, he sounds less like the grunting and brooding bellamy and more like who he used to be before the world had come crashing down. ] Is that okay?

I don't know, you tell me. [She knows she's pushing now, but maybe that's her newest style. Either push people away from her or push herself into their lives. It's had some success, the latter.

It's not like it surprises her that they're this close, it's just that the thought crosses her mind quickly: he's still pretty cute. Grunting and brooding, and all, but also when he's almost smiling.]

Yeah, it's fine. It's the whole point.

[ good, he thinks to say, but instead, bellamy makes it a point to shift so hard the mattress turns to the waves of the ocean. good is too sharp and short. good belongs to who he used to posture as, that guy who wanted to dismiss each and every one of the kids as being insignificant. flippant statements aren't bellamy when he's not mad or disgruntled. making waves, being a pain in the ass, is more his style. ]

[ she may push herself into the lives of those she wants to cling to like a barnacle, but bellamy lets her, just as he thinks she lets him wriggle about and even lift himself up partially to be annoying. ]

[ pulling his stretched leg from behind him, bellamy slides it between her own. maybe it'd been a mistake to let that sock slip from his foot before, but he'd been so comfortable holding her to him he hadn't wanted to slide away and pull the sock his other foot had pulled off back on. comfort is too hard to find these days, and he knows it's become a rare beast for her. ]

[ he stills, sudden again, save for one of his hands sliding down her covered back and sitting against the small of it. ] I won't fidget anymore if it bothers you.

[She huffs out in reluctant amusement when he starts to fidget, wiggle around like an annoying little worm, probably doing it on purpose to piss her off. See how much he can.

She jumps at the cold foot he shoves between hers, and clamps her legs over it, because gravity helps with that at least. Maybe she lets out a jesus hell, because it's really cold outside this time of year and she hates it.

She has to make an effort to swallow, finally leaning in to press her forehead against his shoulder again, his collarbone.] You're such a pain in the ass.

[But it's not a reprimand, or scorn. She says it like he said it, once. You may be a pain in my ass, but I need you.]

[ bellamy smiles, moving his other hand up her back to bury his fingers in her hair. he isn't done being such a pain in the ass, though, with how his fingers dig beneath the strands to touch his slightly warm hands against the nape of her neck. by holding her and even rubbing her back purposefully and absently, he's warmed up his ice-like fingers to be something moderately pleasant to the touch. ]

[ though it's tempting to move about, bellamy makes the effort to stay still, knowing she's made herself comfortable at his shoulder. it's instinct of his own to wriggle about, to never stop moving, not even in sleep, but he's found it easy to forgo his own habits for the sake of bringing someone else comfort or simple ease. he thinks it's the better instinct to have. ]

[ just as it's instinct to easily curl into her, removing his own walls and being less like the person the rest of the ark sees has become almost a knee-jerk reaction when he's alone with her. his voice sounds as though it's on the edge of a laugh, ] But not a big enough pain for you to not try and feel me up.

[He's the one who starts it. Hand in her hair, at the nape of her neck? It's a wonder the way she draws breath in quickly doesn't sound louder. It sounds loud to her ears, but she's got anatomy to thank for that.

The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention, like little pleas for touch me more, and so much for not getting any ideas. She's the first to get those ideas, so maybe she shouldn't cast stones. Her throat closes up with the sudden tension that goes through her, and she ends up squirming against him with her heartbeat loud in her ears.]

I can stand still if it bothers you.

We're not standing.

[ he laughs lightly. if his feet against hers, as a weight and as an anchor, are any indication of how they're not standing, then he thinks raven's tinkered with too many nuts and bolts over the last few days. though he doesn't doubt this is what it's like with the two of them now, with her resting her feet on the top of his when she lets herself, bellamy doesn't mind it. sometimes he needs to roll onto his side instead of burning his footprint into the metal ground of the ark. he can hardly see any mark he leaves, anyway. ]

[ his hand remains where it is, moving slightly, nails scraping slowly against the nape of her neck. he knows his fingers aren't cold enough for his intended affect, but he doesn't pull them back once he's completed his childish task. a part of him doesn't think to; another part of him doesn't want to. ]

You don't bother me as much as you wish you did.

Semantics. [She tries to laugh, but then she feels his nails against her skin and laughter flutters into nothing in her throat, nothing but a quiet sound that's likely going to sound pathetic. Is she this desperate for a touch that doesn't send her back reeling? Yes, yes she is, but it has a lot to do with who's delivering it.

Intentional or not, he's managed to put her on edge, and it's very weird to be here and not know where to go next. Raven of the past would lean back and shove her mouth against his just to test the waters. Raven of the past would ruin this precious friendship that's blossomed between them, warm comfort on a cold cold Ark, by running from it as soon as it's over.

Raven of the present, the one in his arms, she lets out that garbled sound and presses her face closer against his collarbone, inhaling quietly and holding her breath while he mentions she's not a bother.]

You don't know how much I wish I bothered you.

You can be pretty irritating. [ but not as aggravating as the members of council, not even close. bellamy's butted heads with kane too many times for him to be able to approach him without his hackles raised and himself already on edge. ]

[ a part of him knows he's misconstruing her — it's not on purpose, either. most people on the ark are a different kind of bother, the type that sees him easily wound up and ropable. it's almost rare for him to feel irritated into sighing without feeling aggravated and sharper than he usually is. he'd thought dropping onto the ground had seen him at his worst, but he's found returning to the ark is like slipping on a pair of shoes he thought ended up burned in the crash landing. ]

[ shifting his other hand on her back, bellamy practically cradles her to his chest. his heel skims along the back of her bum leg while his other foot remains still. it seems he can't quite keep himself as still as he wants to be, always intent to cause ripples in a lake that otherwise looks smooth. he sighs and breathes out, continuing his own thought moments later, ] With your cold feet and snoring.

[Though she doesn't feel the drag of his heel, she feels the way he shifts, and yeah he's absolutely incapable of lying still. Is it a normal thing, she wonders, or is it the restlessness of having to sleep inside the Ark again? She'd tell him she misses the stars too, can't wait for spring and summer; she'll pitch up a tent and sleep where she can't hear whirring and buzzing of machines and oxygen generators that failed once upon a time.

She has to pull back just to be able to let him see when she rolls her eyes, quite dramatically.] Like you're the sleeping beauty personified.

I am. [ he says it with a straight face, peering down at her with a tone that should suggest he can't be refuted for it's a fact. bellamy knows he's not the best sleeper on the ark. it's grown worse over the months, from the days he'd been able to fall into a deep sleep before the stars had fallen down around him with raven in tow to the very weeks where he'd awaken at the sound of a twig snapping beneath a boot. ]

[ he's not sleeping beauty personified, but sometimes bellamy wants to fool all those around him that he is. mount weather is as distant as the mountain itself from him. there's no way a mountain can burrow beneath his skin. even though atlas sometimes is spoken of as merging with his, bellamy knows he's no titan. and he's not a sleeping princess, either, even though he sometimes wishes he could sleep for days and weeks on end without interruption as the world waits for the prince to see the frost and even the death pervading it disappear. ]

[ he smiles, though, breaking his own attempt to feign seriousness. ] I don't need anyone to kiss me awake, though. I've got you snoring instead.

[ this is the last time he's going to listen to monty's so-called "weather reports." ]

[ bellamy says it over and over, grumbling about it as the rain pours down on them. they're outside of camp, a good walk away, when it hits. he'd planned their little outing to simply go for a walk and scout for more bunkers in the ground and clarke, though the latter is an unspoken vow of his own. he'd been planning these outings based off monty's weather predictions. he'd been right so far, peering up at the moon and the sun at all hours of the day and night and informing them of how it'll be humid with a nice breeze one day and there'll be a slight chance of rain on another. he's had it down to an art form before he's gone ahead and royally screwed it up. ]

[ it's easier to blame monty. bellamy knows he shouldn't; he should've known better when he'd chosen to argue with kane and abby about letting raven come with him. her leg's a concern, as always; for bellamy, he's more concerned with how crazy she's going being trapped inside of her little box in the ark with all of her toys. where abby had wished for him to simply leave it be and not get raven's hopes up about going outside and far away from camp, bellamy had been insistent on trusting her to know her own limits. know, he's falling prey to slipping into abby's shoes of doubt. ]

[ pulling the back of his jacket over his head, it does nothing to keep him dry. he's already soaked. his shoes squelch against the mud. the sky shoots down rain. he feels it slip beneath the collar of his shirt and trickle down his chest. with one hand holding his jacket up, his other darts out to wrap around raven. though he knows she can battle almost anything, it's the mud and the slippery ground he's most concerned about. ]

[ he slows, trying to help her up a slight slope of the muddy ground. ] I'm never listening to Monty again.

Your loss. [It's a petty game she plays here, or maybe it's just not pretty at all. But the challenge comes out of her mouth before she can stop it, and she even nudges her right knee against him, because she can't be bothered to punch him lightly in the shoulders instead.]

My kisses could wake up the hibernating, so you're missing out. [But it's up to him now, and she waits for his reply with secretly baited breath; hey, he started it.]

[She's been going insane, close to climbing up the walls (what a joke that is) with cabin fever, all locked up inside her workshop; how easily the Chancellor falls in and out of acting like a concerned mother around Raven, kind of like her own mother did, once. She's gotten really good at ignoring the twinges of longing that run through her every time Abby remembers she liked Raven once, enough to pretend to care. (Some slaps sting forever, and Raven's not stupid to not know that the moment Clarke comes back everyone will go back to kneeling at her precious flawless feet.) She doesn't get her hopes up there, and thus nobody disappoints her.

Bellamy ruins those plans, but the chance to stretch her legs and go on an actual walk is so grand that she doesn't even care. Her hopes get raised, and when they set out to leave that day, she couldn't be happier.

The downpour catching them in the forest (because what else is there to walk through, really?) doesn't even bother her. So she's soaked to the bone, but it's unlikely she'll catch a cold, if she can withstand fucking radiation. It's just cumbersome, but she can easily ignore it, tip her head back and feel the raindrops pelt down her face. Like small kisses, like tiny touches that don't sting or hurt.

She hasn't been in the rain until right now, and of course she likes it, mud on her boots and all.

Bellamy's in full protective mode, and she can see him growing grumpier and wonders if he notices that she hasn't stopped smiling.]

I stopped doing that ten minutes after I met him.

[ he moves his leg away with a laugh before bringing it back to where it'd sit comfortably against her. it turns out to be a good strategy in buying him time in even hearing her words, let alone letting them sink in. bellamy's been challenged each and every day, every waking hour he ends up colliding with someone who doesn't agree with how he perceives the world. he can recognise this for what it is, albeit he doubts it to be designed to see him cower. ]

[ looking down at her, bellamy still smiles, but it isn't as mirthful as it'd been before, laughing at her in his own insistence she snores. he thinks to keep that particular thread going, but drops it. raven's never lead him astray; he doubts she'd begin to do so now. ]

[ his hands still on her back, even though his foot moves against her bad leg without thinking. he's not sure if his heart pounds from realising he could hurt her leg without realising or if it's from what's written between the lines of her own words. his tone is a little softer, ] You sound pretty confident in that.

[Look at that, he is capable of keeping still. She's amazed, or she would be amazed if not for the fact that she's locked in this very moment, stuck between the lines of what they say versus what they don't say.

She's not a coward about these things, and she's never been, but this time maybe she handles them with a little bit more tact, and a lot less of the usual Raven bluntness. Soft though her tone goes, it stays steady, like her unwavering gaze.]

Do you need a reminder?

[ without her usual bluntness, it means it's in his hands. anything placed in his hands means there's a good chance for failure and disappointment. he knows he's been handing the two of those out in spades, although he's never quite striven for pleasing kane or anyone who isn't o. ]

[ but bellamy sometimes thinks he's disappointed raven, by either not grasping what he wants by the neck or by letting those who think themselves more equipped and capable of running the camp on the ground walk all over him. he has a feeling he won't be disappointing only her if he shifts and shuts this down. whatever it is. ]

[ his gaze drops for only a moment. clarke had run away from what scared her while he had run to it. he thinks it'd be hypercritical of him to turn his back in fear now. ]

[ when he looks up at her, his desire to feign obliviousness or even try and turn this more into a teasing exchange fails. his voice is soft, ] I probably do. [ he shifts his shoulder in a shrug. ] I've hit my head a lot. Forget things.

[It'd be a lie to say she doesn't expect him to shut it down. He has every reason to, she expects a soft scoff from him and an easy joke, and it'll be fine if that's what happens. She wouldn't kick him out of bed or tell him to get his thoughts figured out. They ended up here as friends first, she thinks, that one tryst notwithstanding.

So when he answer she almost misses it, almost feels like the blood's rushed up to her head completely. I probably do.

This part here, it's a risk. But they could live the rest of their lives in hiding, afraid of taking risks again because that's landed them in trouble before. Or they could be who they are, and let emotion dictate first and foremost.

Her gaze falls quickly to his mouth, just as she unwraps one arm from around him to cup the side of his face in her hands.]

Should have that checked. [She leans in, nose brushing his nose first, then her lips across his lips, the softest kiss she's given anyone in years. If she stops, it's because she remembered breathing is important. She takes one loud breath, and then crushes her mouth against his properly.]

[ he should probably go see the medical practitioner, but every time bellamy's had an issue, he's always gone to the mechanic instead. he's about to scrunch up his face in agreement, but she leans in toward him instead, halting his movements and even his own response as he waits. ]

[ he's always been able to predict the movement of someone else by leaning upon the stories mom used to tell him. it was easy to recognise a her wanting to be like heracles, as he predicted kane would lean upon another, like heracles had atlas, in order to steal a golden apple. but the love stories he'd been told hadn't quite prepared him for anything — there's the epics, between eros and psyche, hades and persephone, and the incredible tragedies, like helen of troy and paris, but none of those stories ever encompass friends straddling a line he knows he's fearful of overstepping. ]

[ sometimes bellamy tricks himself into thinking there are many people in his corner before he remembers there's only two who have never quite stopped believing in him. he's already experienced ruining his relationship with o, regardless of how temporary it had been; he doesn't want to trip and scrape his knee when it comes to raven. ]

[ when she kisses him, bellamy remains still, but his hand moves to her back to press his palm between her shoulder blades. he thinks to speak when she pulls away, but despite having the words to inspire a crowd of dejected delinquents, he doesn't know what he'd say at all. ]

[ a part of him is grateful she doesn't give him that chance. ]

[ his other hand moves to touch her face lightly, before he cradles her cheek in the palm of his hand. shifting his body closer to her, bellamy opens his mouth beneath hers, thinking perhaps holding her closer is going to rid him of his ailment of forgetting too much and remembering too little. pushing her away has never achieved anything. ]

( the body heat meme )

ring my bell

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(ring my bell) you know it's still got something to do with bodyheat!

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