[ she lets her hand be moved, but it returns not a second afterward. she can't be curbed or denied, considering the fingers that tap him directly in the jaw. ]
Says the exhibitionist himself.
[ look she still remembers the beach. have some shame, bellamy. ]
[He's fully aware he has no shame, but stripping down at the beach isn't something he'd slot into the "exhibitionist" category, so he feels like he's missing something. This time, he doesn't swat her hand away.]
[ complete with the p popping, as though her quick answer wasn't suspicious enough — to say nothing of her failure at concealing a smile that is, at best, conspiratorial. the very same kind that says i have a secret and you have no idea what it is. ]
Not a thing.
[ her hand stays, now that it isn't being swatted against, fingers splayed absently where jawline meets neck. if he can't figure out her meaning for himself, like hell she's going to embarrass herself by explaining it for him. ]
[She's screwing with him again, but she doesn't pull her hand away, and his eyes lock on her for a second. She definitely thinks she's being clever about something, but he's too tired to parse what it is and tease her for it. The contact is nice, even if he has a feeling it's all part of their usual banter, and he closes his eyes again.]
I'm not the kind of person that tries to be a good liar. I like to think that counts for something.
[ even if she wanted to be deceitful — in a larger context, not one that includes shirtless men, thank you very much — she'd be horrible at committing to that ideal. she's always been too honest, too impulsive, too clary for her to put on much of a successful front.
for lack of a better use, her thumbs run circles against skin, absent-mindedly soothing now that his eyes are closed again. ]
[That's new, but he's not complaining. It's soothing, and he's exhausted, and he thinks he could doze off like this. He shouldn't. Still, at first the only response she gets is a quiet humming sound until he forces himself to actually reply.]
[ it's not a negative reaction, so she doesn't still or withdraw. if anything, that hum of a sound suggests it might even be successful in bringing him some tranquility — though she's admittedly selfish in wanting close human contact after retreating from it for nearly a month. ]
You have no idea what I just said, do you.
[ his reply is coherent and reasonable, but that noise and delayed time says he isn't as focused as he could be. it's telling, considering how little she knows he's slept. ]
[It's a weak retort, especially considering he still doesn't open his eyes.]
You're screwing with me again.
[Which would be a better argument in defense of his lucidity if his voice hadn't gotten softer, and if she didn't have a habit of screwing with him every second they're together.]
Yeah, sure. Barely. [ after a pause, she adds, more genuinely: ] I'm not mad.
[ nearly everyone that's met her knows clary fray's specialty is talking, after all, and even without that knowledge, she's aware of just how exhausted he must be. how exhausted they all are. ]
[It's not a complaint, though. His eyes finally open, and it takes far more effort than he expected it to. Bellamy reaches out to touch her arm, thumb skimming over her skin.]
You sure you're okay?
[He doesn't mean physically this time. If she's teasing him this aggressively, she can't be doing horribly, but he needs to be sure.]
[ lucky isn't the adjective she would have chosen, but she doesn't voice any disagreement. the twitch of her lips, threatening to curve upward again, speaks for itself — though it's softer, gentler, now that she isn't teasing. ]
It was a rough time for everyone.
[ diverting the attention from herself won't fool him, but she is fine. as fine as she can be, all things considered. ]
I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me anymore.
[ even she isn't worried, but that may or may not have something to do with that soothing brusg against her arm. ]
[He's going to worry about her regardless, because that's just the way he is. He doesn't say it, though. That'll invite an argument, and he doesn't have the energy for it right now. To be honest, he doesn't have the energy for much.]
You sure? You're not calling me an idiot. I think you might still be sick.
[ even without it being said, she can make an educated guess. bellamy isn't the type to swallow his concern; the effects of that rapidly spreading disease had established that for her, cut and dry, without much work. but if he isn't going to debate it, neither is she. ]
You're always an idiot. [ quick on the draw when she wants to, there isn't much of a beat between his observation and her retort. her eyebrow raises, as if challenging him to say otherwise. her fingers tap, tap, tap against skin until they still once again. ] I didn't think we were pointing out the obvious right now.
[That's more like it. He smiles at her wryly, and just stops fighting the urge to close his eyes again, leaning into her touch without realizing it. He's so, so tired. Sorry, Clary.]
[ she huffs a laugh beneath her breath, incredulous and amused in equal measure. not worried for now would sound more accurate from him, but she'll take what she can get. ]
Wouldn't want to disappoint you.
[ said just as wryly as his smile is. it's likely that leaning further into her touch might threaten to crush and/or imprison her wrist, but she isn't complaining much. yet. who's she kidding — she wouldn't complain even if that were the case. he's pushed himself this far; it's already impressive that he hasn't collapsed, but she's more concerned than anything. ]
You can stop pretending you're not going to fall asleep now.
[ even a blind person would be able to observe his exhaustion, or so she's willing to bet. ]
[He is. His response is half murmured, and he's settling against the back of the couch, fingers dropping from her arm. It's fine. He's just going to relax for a second, and then he'll sit back up and actually talk to her like a normal person.
Yeah, right. If she doesn't say something in the next few seconds, he'll be totally out.]
[ there's no point in denying it when the telltale evidence is there, in the same way it had been pointless to claim she'd been fine when every little movement left her drained. the count of how many times she's rolled her eyes while bellamy's have been closed has now increased to two, but it's a fond sort of exasperation she's experiencing — not the variety of frustration that she'd encountered weeks ago when he'd first refuted her demand. ]
You took care of me. [ so let me take care of you is what she doesn't say, but it seems to be quietly implied when she brushes her thumb back and forth along his jawline, voice barely above a hushed whisper. ] It's okay.
[He registers the words, but he's already caught in that hazy place between awake and asleep, so the appreciation doesn't fully click. The caress is soothing, steadying, and she's right—he's out so quickly there's no way he's slept much at all in days. If she doesn't move, eventually he'll settle against her, head sinking onto her shoulder.]
[ bellamy blake: unintentional cuddler. she wouldn't have pegged him for the type, in all honesty, but she doesn't shuffle away the moment his weight leans against her. as convinced as she is that her tolerance is going to be regrettable once her limbs lock up and turn numb from lack of movement, she does manage to shift to make herself temporarily more comfortable — awkward attempts to slide her arm out from between them aside.
her hand repositions itself in his hair, cautious not to wake him with that new movement. something tells her he wouldn't stir much, even if she were behaving less like she's dealing with a skittish animal than a person; the ease in which he's fallen asleep tells her as much, and that's going to be reason enough to say i told you so once his eyes do flutter back open. ]
[Sure, he's exhausted, but he wouldn't let himself be this vulnerable with anyone. He trusts Clary, and that's the only reason he's fallen asleep like this. Luckily for Clary's circulation, he isn't asleep for long--twenty minutes or so, maybe. When he does wake up, it isn't gently. His eyes snap open, one arm slipping around her instinctively as he sucks in a sharp breath, blinking as if he isn't quite sure where he is. And then he realizes he's leaning against her and his brow furrows. It takes him a second longer to pull his arm away, rubbing a hand over his face as he struggles to get his heart rate back under control.]
Sorry.
[And then he straightens, expression a little closed off.]
[ the sudden movement is more startling than she'd care to admit, but it's self-restraint — what little she has, anyway — and the reminder that it's only bellamy in the room with her that keeps her from jumping out of her skin when it comes. the memory of her hallucinations has still left her cagey in some ways, but her breath only quickens for a moment in surprise before it settles into a normal cadence. ]
It's okay. I don't mind.
[ she's been through worse than someone's abrupt awakening, after all, and the month she's adamantly putting behind her says as much. her hand drifts away slowly, but her eyebrows do knit when she angles her body in his direction, expression more concerned than the lightness of her tone suggests. ]
Five years. [ she shrugs after that horrible joke, amending, ] It was only... I don't know, twenty minutes? Everything's okay, right?
[ it's said a little flatly, a little skeptically, but — fortunately fof bellamy — she doesn't push. her own dreams are personal, plagued by memories and visions she would rather forget; that degree of understanding keeps her from prying where it isn't welcome. ]
Like I said, I didn't mind. You obviously needed sleep. [ and, more importantly: ] Which you would have gotten if you'd listened to me in the first place.
[ but she doesn't sound too angry. how can she be when he'd been so intent on carrying the weight of that much responsibility while the sick suffered? still, there is a hint of disapproval there, along with the unsaid i told you so. ]
I don't know. Maybe — [ the pitch of her voice drops, but it decidedly sounds nothing like bellamy. that decibel is out of range for her. ] "I'm sorry, Clary, you're so smart and you were totally right. I should listen to you more".
[ that's all she needs, truthfully. she might be temperamental, but she's easily placated. ]
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Says the exhibitionist himself.
[ look she still remembers the beach. have some shame, bellamy. ]
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[He's fully aware he has no shame, but stripping down at the beach isn't something he'd slot into the "exhibitionist" category, so he feels like he's missing something. This time, he doesn't swat her hand away.]
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[ complete with the p popping, as though her quick answer wasn't suspicious enough — to say nothing of her failure at concealing a smile that is, at best, conspiratorial. the very same kind that says i have a secret and you have no idea what it is. ]
Not a thing.
[ her hand stays, now that it isn't being swatted against, fingers splayed absently where jawline meets neck. if he can't figure out her meaning for himself, like hell she's going to embarrass herself by explaining it for him. ]
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You're a crap liar, you know that?
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[ even if she wanted to be deceitful — in a larger context, not one that includes shirtless men, thank you very much — she'd be horrible at committing to that ideal. she's always been too honest, too impulsive, too clary for her to put on much of a successful front.
for lack of a better use, her thumbs run circles against skin, absent-mindedly soothing now that his eyes are closed again. ]
Buuut I'm still not telling you, either way.
[ brat. ]
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Doesn't surprise me.
[What were they talking about again?]
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You have no idea what I just said, do you.
[ his reply is coherent and reasonable, but that noise and delayed time says he isn't as focused as he could be. it's telling, considering how little she knows he's slept. ]
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[It's a weak retort, especially considering he still doesn't open his eyes.]
You're screwing with me again.
[Which would be a better argument in defense of his lucidity if his voice hadn't gotten softer, and if she didn't have a habit of screwing with him every second they're together.]
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[ nearly everyone that's met her knows clary fray's specialty is talking, after all, and even without that knowledge, she's aware of just how exhausted he must be. how exhausted they all are. ]
I'm always screwing with you, Bellamy.
[ is that supposed to be news? ]
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[It's not a complaint, though. His eyes finally open, and it takes far more effort than he expected it to. Bellamy reaches out to touch her arm, thumb skimming over her skin.]
You sure you're okay?
[He doesn't mean physically this time. If she's teasing him this aggressively, she can't be doing horribly, but he needs to be sure.]
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It was a rough time for everyone.
[ diverting the attention from herself won't fool him, but she is fine. as fine as she can be, all things considered. ]
I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me anymore.
[ even she isn't worried, but that may or may not have something to do with that soothing brusg against her arm. ]
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You sure? You're not calling me an idiot. I think you might still be sick.
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You're always an idiot. [ quick on the draw when she wants to, there isn't much of a beat between his observation and her retort. her eyebrow raises, as if challenging him to say otherwise. her fingers tap, tap, tap against skin until they still once again. ] I didn't think we were pointing out the obvious right now.
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There you go. Now I'm not worried.
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Wouldn't want to disappoint you.
[ said just as wryly as his smile is. it's likely that leaning further into her touch might threaten to crush and/or imprison her wrist, but she isn't complaining much. yet. who's she kidding — she wouldn't complain even if that were the case. he's pushed himself this far; it's already impressive that he hasn't collapsed, but she's more concerned than anything. ]
You can stop pretending you're not going to fall asleep now.
[ even a blind person would be able to observe his exhaustion, or so she's willing to bet. ]
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[He is. His response is half murmured, and he's settling against the back of the couch, fingers dropping from her arm. It's fine. He's just going to relax for a second, and then he'll sit back up and actually talk to her like a normal person.
Yeah, right. If she doesn't say something in the next few seconds, he'll be totally out.]
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[ there's no point in denying it when the telltale evidence is there, in the same way it had been pointless to claim she'd been fine when every little movement left her drained. the count of how many times she's rolled her eyes while bellamy's have been closed has now increased to two, but it's a fond sort of exasperation she's experiencing — not the variety of frustration that she'd encountered weeks ago when he'd first refuted her demand. ]
You took care of me. [ so let me take care of you is what she doesn't say, but it seems to be quietly implied when she brushes her thumb back and forth along his jawline, voice barely above a hushed whisper. ] It's okay.
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her hand repositions itself in his hair, cautious not to wake him with that new movement. something tells her he wouldn't stir much, even if she were behaving less like she's dealing with a skittish animal than a person; the ease in which he's fallen asleep tells her as much, and that's going to be reason enough to say i told you so
once his eyes do flutter back open. ]
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Sorry.
[And then he straightens, expression a little closed off.]
How long was I out?
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It's okay. I don't mind.
[ she's been through worse than someone's abrupt awakening, after all, and the month she's adamantly putting behind her says as much. her hand drifts away slowly, but her eyebrows do knit when she angles her body in his direction, expression more concerned than the lightness of her tone suggests. ]
Five years. [ she shrugs after that horrible joke, amending, ] It was only... I don't know, twenty minutes? Everything's okay, right?
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[His response is automatic, and immediately feels a little unfair. He just fell asleep on her, after all.]
Just a dream.
[Which is nothing new. He's gotten used to brushing them off by now.]
You should have woken me up.
[Because he was kind of crushing her.]
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[ it's said a little flatly, a little skeptically, but — fortunately fof bellamy — she doesn't push. her own dreams are personal, plagued by memories and visions she would rather forget; that degree of understanding keeps her from prying where it isn't welcome. ]
Like I said, I didn't mind. You obviously needed sleep. [ and, more importantly: ] Which you would have gotten if you'd listened to me in the first place.
[ but she doesn't sound too angry. how can she be when he'd been so intent on carrying the weight of that much responsibility while the sick suffered? still, there is a hint of disapproval there, along with the unsaid i told you so. ]
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What do you want me to say, Clary?
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[ that's all she needs, truthfully. she might be temperamental, but she's easily placated. ]
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