#bellarketrashnetwork

Bellamy turns, and he finds he’s underestimated her. She’s not beautiful, she’s ethereal. She’s sunlight, and she’s stars, and she’s grace, and she’s the steady reliability of the river all draped in white.

He stares down at his white tux as if it forced its way onto his body, properly chastised by her words, though he knows she doesn’t mean it. He knows his invitation came out of kindness, but certainly Clarke hadn’t expected him to actually show up.

“I just remember the bride telling me she liked my white tux once.”

Bellamy pushed his way out of the school gymnasium with a grunt, needing to step outside and get some air before he ended up punching his little sister’s date. He knew all her friends and their boyfriends danced (if you could call it that) like that now, but it didn’t make watching it any easier. But chaperoning the prom had seemed like a much better choice than sitting at home all night and wondering if Octavia was okay.

He moved to the steps that led down to the football stadium, preparing to sit on the top step when he noticed someone was already sitting there. Hearing his footsteps, the figure quickly tried to conceal something, and Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh.

“Whatever it is, I don’t care. I’m only here to watch out for my sister,” he said to calm the figure down, who he could now see was a girl as his eyes adjusted to the dark. She had blonde hair neatly styled, and there was something about her deep purple dress that looked futuristic, the fabric hugging her body the way the night sky hugged the stars.

“Great,” the girl said in response, clearly not caring, and she went back to drinking from the flask she’d attempted to hide. Bellamy cleared his throat, approaching slowly. She turned to look up at him, eyebrows raised. “What?”

Shrugging, he sat beside her on the top step, eyes focused out on the dark stadium, briefly recalling the days he’d spent out on that field, but now all that felt like someone else’s life. “Feel like sharing?”

The girl shrugged, passing him her flask before leaning her head on the railing beside her, studying him with no shame. It made him a little uncomfortable as he took a long swig from her flask, but he refused to let it show.

“What made you decide to wear a white tux?”

Bellamy glanced down at his outfit as if he’d only just realized what he was wearing, before glancing at her. “Felt like it.”

She nodded, taking her flask back and taking an impressive amount of whiskey into her mouth, swallowing without even a hint of a flinch. “Looks nice. I’m Clarke, and my boyfriend has another girlfriend.”

Bellamy didn’t let his surprise show on his face, instead swiping the flask back and taking a swig equal to hers, though he couldn’t help the way his face reacted to the taste, and he couldn’t help but smile when she smirked smugly at him. “Bellamy. I have to watch my sister grow up after I spent my entire life taking care of her.”

Clarke nodded at him, and they both fell silent after that, staring out at the stadium and finishing the entire flask of whiskey.

“I didn’t think you would come,” Clarke says softly, staring at him as if she can’t believe he’s really there, and truthfully, Bellamy can’t believe it either. It had felt like someone had taken over his body and all of his common sense as he’d dug around in his closet until he’d found the same tux from the night he’d met her.

Now that he’s looking at her, and knowing that today, the day of her wedding, she would be walking down the aisle away from him instead of toward him, he knows he can’t stay. She looks like everything he had ever hoped for, but it’s not for him.

“I’m not staying,” Bellamy says, refusing to let his voice waver with the emotion bubbling up in his throat, threatening to pour past his lips and fall at her feet. “I just wanted to bring you this.”

He holds out his hand, and tears immediately spring to Clarke’s eyes when she sees what he’s holding.

She’d lost her father’s watch the day they’d moved in together, the old band snapping and falling behind somewhere in the shuffle of boxes and furniture. In their five years of being together, they’d never managed to find it.

But after she left, Bellamy had found himself cleaning every single inch of the apartment to attempt to erase her memory. It didn’t work, but at the very least, he knows he’s given her the best wedding present he could, complete with a new band.

She puts it on immediately, and something about the way her eyes light up the way they used to when she looked at him makes Bellamy decide he needs to leave, and he needs to do it now. Without thinking about it, he leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, echoing the statement his mother had said to him with her dying breath.

“May we meet again.”

“I’m going to marry you someday, Bellamy Blake,” Clarke whispered against the sweaty skin of his neck, the moonlight making her pale skin shine under the light sheen of sweat as they both waited for their breathing to slow. The sheets were a mess but he didn’t bother to fix them, getting enough warmth from the heat of her body, and now, her words.

Bellamy could only nod, turning to blindly capture her lips, too sated to think of opening his eyes. But he didn’t need to look at her to know she was smiling, and to know she felt the same way he did, that indescribable feeling of a person holding you to the planet instead of gravity.

“I’ll hold you to that, Clarke Griffin.”

He’s almost to his car a couple blocks away (parking had been a nightmare; how many fucking people did she invite?) when he hears his name being called behind him. Again, he doesn’t want to turn, afraid of whether or not he can handle the sight.

He’s so glad he decided to face it when he turns around.

He gets a quick glimpse of her, bare feet and shoes in hand as she sprints down the sidewalk, train and veil flying behind her, and he knows he’ll remember the look in her eyes forever when she throws herself into his arms, kissing him harder than she ever has before.

It feels the way climbing into bed at the end of the night feels, rolling over and readjusting until you finally settle into that spot where every part of you feels just right.

Bellamy’s been tossing and turning for a year without her, and now he thinks maybe he can get some sleep.

When she pulls away, she looks shocked for a moment as if she can’t believe she’s actually done that, before she laughs, a delighted sound that makes him want to drag her right back into that church and marry her in front of every single person in there, including the man she’d just left at the altar.

“There are going to be a lot of consequences for this,” Clarke murmurs, hand reaching for his and he takes it immediately, lacing their fingers. 

Bellamy can only nod, feeling too happy right now to really care about consequences, though tomorrow he knows he’ll feel like the world’s biggest asshole.

But goddammit, even if he is, she still loves him.

“So we’ll face them,” Bellamy assures her softly, pulling her into him and carefully removing her veil so he can bury his face into her hair.