Conflate | Bellamy Blake ¹ ✓

※ | chapter eleven

❝we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy.❞

-albus dumbledore, harry potter

♛

SWARMED MURMURS FILL THE air as the entire camp wakes from Bellamy's call. Sleepy campers emerge from their tents or the dropship with bags beneath their eyes and puffy faces. Torches light the way around the door of the wall surrounding us.

I rub my exhausted face and slap my cheeks in an attempt to wake myself up. I feel like someone has filled my veins with lead- my entire body is heavy and it takes a tremendous amount of effort to lift an appendage.

"Hey, everybody, gather around!" Bellamy calls. He sounds a lot less vulnerable than he had before, and the worried expression has been replaced with his usual stony, unreadable one. He dumps a bag of metal on the ground at his feet. "Grab a weapon. My sister's been out there alone for twelve hours. Arm up. We're not coming back without her."

Monroe is the first to come forward and picks up an axe. Soon everyone condenses around and follows suit. With a sigh, I sluggishly move forward and bend over to grab a spear. Bellamy sticks out a hand to stop me as soon as I'm standing upright again.

"Not you," he orders sternly, eyebrows pinched together.

Mine do too, but in an expression of confusion. "What? Why not?"

Bellamy shifts his weight and glances at the others who are grabbing weapons for themselves. "Because you're not mentally up for it. If you could see yourself- you look completely exhausted." He pauses. "Just stay here for the night."

I roll my eyes and try to play it off like I haven't noticed that I'm utterly fatigued. "I'm fine, Bellamy. And besides, Octavia is my friend." I spin the spear around in my hand. "I'm going whether you like it or not."

Bellamy doesn't reply. He simply stares at me, and soon I can't stand it anymore and turn away. He's so confusing. One day he's arguing with me about something pointless, and the next he's concerned for my well-being.

I'm not allowed to stray far because apparently leaders of the camp have to stand next to each other a lot. I only make it a few steps away until I'm grabbed by the sleeve of my jacket. My jaw almost drops when I turn to see Clarke with a worried expression on her face, lit orange by the close fires, but I force on a neutral expression.

"You're going?" she asks. I can't believe it. Now. Now, after what has seemed like an eternity of her ignoring me or brushing me off. Now she decides to care?

My jaw clenches the slightest bit. "Of course I am. I'm a leader of the camp, right?"

Clarke looks mildly surprised at my harsh undertone, but she pulls her lips into a line and nods anyway. Her eyes slowly drift to the ground between us.

Bellamy comes up beside us, hands on his hips in such a way that his jacket gets pushed back a little. His eyes flicker between Clarke and I. "We need a tracker." A pause while Clarke nods again. "Finn. Get out here."

I shift my weight away from Clarke and grumble beneath my breath, "Does he have to come?"

Bellamy snorts but quickly disguises it as a cough. My eyes go wide as his amused gaze meets mine. 

Bellamy then clears his throat impatiently. "Finn, we're leaving!"

His voice sounds from inside his and Raven's tent. "All right. I'm coming."

The crowd of campers surges forward, but I find Clarke and I lingering in the back. My eyes briefly move to her a number of times. There's a war going on in my head about whether or not I should confront her. Is this a good time?