#bsv 16

Not Everything Has to Be a Disaster by tacosandflowers

It’s almost laughable, really. After five years on the ground, Clarke hadn’t expected it to be easy when things finally shifted into something new between her and Bellamy. But she also hadn’t expected to be thrown the ultimate curveball.

*

Bellamy and Clarke face the prospect of being parents a lot sooner than they ever thought they would. Canon divergent after 3x03.

flowers v chocolate (a saga) by bellamysblakes (MyLostLove)

bellamy and clarke run competing businesses, especially over the valentines season.

whats another harmless bet to make it more fun?

Keep Tossing Rocks At Your Window by Chash

Clarke has only been living in her new apartment for one month and she’s already involved in a passive-aggressive note war with her neighbor.

amor vincit omnia by iridescentprincess

It's Valentine's Day, a holiday that Clarke doesn't really understand. Bellamy gets shot with a drug-laced arrow that causes him to act very strangely.

Or: someone really wanted to role-play as Cupid.

You Keep The World At Bay For Me by takemehome21

Bellamy doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day and is a huge grump about it so when Octavia backs out of their Valentine tradition Clarke takes matters into her own hands and tries to cheer him up

our big dreams, how we plan by avioletqueen

"After a long winter break of arguing with her mother over her major and missing her friends terribly, Clarke’s back at school, and ready to get back to the blessed normality of daily life."

If only it wasn’t Bellamy Blake’s intention to get in the way of that normality.

Do it for Aslan by MercuryM

“Why are you hiding inside a closet?”

It was too dark to see her expression but there was enough light filtering through the cracks of the doors to see her duck her head down in embarrassment.

“I was looking for Narnia.”

take what you can (give nothing back) by thatweirdparamedicstudent

For Clarke Griffin from the Arcadia Colonies, being abducted by space pirates was not what she had in mind. Being ransomed back to her potential husband, was definitely not what she had in mind.

This will never end 'cause I want more by queenofchildren

Bellamy comes to her a prisoner. He leaves a free man and returns an ally.

Rivers and Roads (Rivers Till I Reach You) by serendipityinwords

Clarke Griffin thinks soulmates are bullshit. Then she goes ahead and falls for Bellamy Blake and she really thinks soulmates are bullshit.

Keep Your Head Down (Make No Sound) by hooksandheroics

Clarke accidentally sees Arcadia’s neighborhood superhero changing in a telephone booth and doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge. (Written for BSV 2016)

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Pining by katebishoop

”you just got your tonsils removed so I showed up with ten pints of ice cream and a love confession because I know you’re not going to be able to say anything, but you do anyways and there are tears in your eyes (not because you’re so touched) but because the pain is literally killing you but you’re trying to get to me after I dropped this bomb on you”

i have lost my love (i just sit in silence) by rxs

"How could he explain the rest? How Clarke was somehow outside of all that darkness. With her serene blue eyes that never once looked away from the roughest parts of him, she was everything he was afraid to ask for, yet everything he craved.

"...Clarke." In the end, Bellamy could never explain her. "

Where the Whispers Fall by likecrackingwater (1thetenfootlongscarf2)

They are taken like the people of Roanoke, and their dæmons followed behind.

Bellarke Canon AU

Not My Lips You Kissed (But My Soul) by HeartBreakMystique

All Clarke wanted to do was stay in bed and pretend Valentine's Day didn't exist, unfortunately Bellamy has other ideas and makes it his mission to give Clarke the perfect Valentine's Day she's ever had...

Waiting for Your Heart's Defection by elegantstupidity

Bellamy discovers that Octavia is not really a temp and neither is her friend Clarke. Of course, everything is more complicated than he’s ready to deal with.

Empires Rise, Empires Fall by hooksandheroics

Clarke gains a stranger for a roommate, a crush, a fuckbuddy, and a superhero partner. And they might all just be the same person. (Written for BSV 2016)

The Saga of Bellamy and Clarke by RavenclawPianist

The first time Clarke decides she's in love with Bellamy Blake, she's in third grade.

I Hold The Happiness you Bring by jollyrogerjayhawk

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a trio of Blake Children in possession of a good couch and warm blankets must be in want of a pillow fort.

Prompt from @otpprompts - Person A wakes up in the middle of the night after feeling something constantly tug at their pillow. They find their child was trying to take it in order to build a pillow fort with the other sibling. The next morning, Person B finds that their whole comforter is missing and goes to the kitchen, where Person A is asleep with their children around them.(Bonus: Person B tries to join in but accidentally breaks the fort, so they then have two pillows forts and a pillow fight.)

From the Words You Spoke (we built a house) by twilightstargazer

“Jesus Christ, Octavia,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Usually before you start leasing a place for rent you tend to ask the owner if it’s okay.”

“-God, I’m not stupid. Clarke just asked if I knew anyone in need of a roommate and I mentioned you-”

“Wait, Clarke,” he says, eyes going wide and spine stiffening, “Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to tell Clarke I need a roommate?”

or, the one where Clarke and Bellamy become roommates, despite their strange past.

It Just Makes Sense by yellowteapots

Bellamy and Clarke have to share a bed and what happens next, well, it just makes sense.

(Canon-verse, written before 3x03 so I've taken some liberties.)

Love Is Blind. And So Are You. by BellarmyBlake

Clarke and Bellamy are stupidly in love, and everyone knows it.

“Could you stop being a leader for one goddamn moment, Clarke, and listen to me? I’m fucking in love with you.”

This Is As Easy As Lovers Go by prosciutto

It begins- like most things do, when it comes to them- with a petty, drawn-out argument that culminates in furious, up against the wall sex.

“Never again,” Clarke tells him after, scowling when he bats her underwear over so it hits her squarely on the forehead, “I mean it, Bellamy. This isn’t going to be a regular occurrence or anything.”

He shrugs, tries to bite back the smirk pulling at his mouth, “Whatever you say, your worship.”

Or: Bellamy Blake’s not sure how he went from sleeping with Clarke Griffin to being in a relationship with her, but here they are.

Cabin Fever by dropshipfics

After a very successful treaty with the grounders, Commander Bellamy invites the delinquents to a festival. Fluff ensues.

i've got you down, i know you by heart by foolanyfriend

“Well, I maintain that she’s seeing someone,” Raven offers, standing up and dusting her hands off on her jeans.

“Think about it,” she continues, reaching down a hand to help Wells up from the cold library floor. “Suspicious absences? A sudden, conspicuous lack of free time? Clarke’s not the type to freeze us out without making us know what we did, so her getting some on the down low is basically the only option.”

Wells hums in vague agreement, searching his mind for another viable reason for Clarke's silence. He'd like to think she'd tell him if she was seeing someone new - details of the more private part of their relationship censored, of course. There's only so many times he can listen to his best friend detail her various exploits without wanting to physically bleach his brain.

Settle Down With Me by kay_emm_gee

Three times Bellamy and Clarke fall asleep in odd places + one time they don’t.

The Loneliest Side by thishartofmine  

“I want to get your sister out of the Skybox.”

Bellamy nearly chokes on his beans. Clarke Griffin just stares back at him as if this is a perfectly reasonable thing for her to say to him.

when you tear it all apart (it's just DNA) by bilexualclarke (ohalaskayoung)  

It’s one thing to have a crush on your best friend’s hot older brother. It’s another thing to have a crush on your best friend’s brother who is also your TA and your tutor. For lack of a better description, Clarke Griffin is royally screwed.

Don't say no, no, no, no, no by clarkeandherrebelking (StereksLove)

Basically an easy, short one shot about Bellamy's creative way of proposing to Clarke

Never be the same by Artemide

Valentine's Day was very different, on the Ark.

Clarke remembered the first time her father told her the story of Saint Valentine.

He never had spare time, on the Ark.

His life was already full with his training as a guard and keeping his sister safe.

Royals by never_wake_up

that line will get you far ... away from me by rebellamyblaking (SailorVegeta13)

That was also how Clarke found herself practically running through the crowd looking to for Octavia so they could get out of here. When she says running she means more like aggressively trying to push her way through the thick mass of people standing between her and the door. Of course right when she needed her, O was nowhere to be found. Probably because she was making out with her “friend” Lincoln, “Uh huh,” Clarke mumbled to herself, “just friend’s my ass.”

She stumbled a little as she pushed through the crowd, the tequila shots she’d downed quite a few minutes ago just starting to catch up to her which- goddamnit this was such bad timing she was clumsy enough sober for fuck’s sake.

The room was spinning slightly, young bodies dancing everywhere, pulsing noise, stinking of sweat and alcohol.

God, she was going to kill Octavia.

By this time she’d managed to make it almost all the way across the room, which in the state she was in was pretty good if she did say so herself. As she turned frantically searching for his familiar face, she crashed into something hard.

“Princess, what a wonderful surprise.” It was Bellamy. Of course it was Bellamy. Could this night be any worse?

“Get out of my way, Blake.” She didn’t know where Finn was, but she knew she needed to be out of here before he saw her.

“Why the rush, Princess? We peasants not good enough for you?” His voice was deep, husky and mocking.

She couldn’t deal with this right now.

“Bellamy, please.” Her voice broke slightly, her desperation showing through. She didn’t want him to see her like this, drunk and vulnerable. She didn’t want Bellamy to know she wasn’t as strong as he thought she was.

The mocking smirk dropped from his face, a look of concern taking its place and goddamnit she didn’t need this. Quickly she moved to rush by him, stumbling slightly as her body reminded her of all the alcohol she’d had. Before she could move far though, a warm hand was gripping her arm. Gently, but firmly holding her in place.

“Princess, what’s wrong?” He asked, leaning towards her slightly, shielding her from the room.

“Um, its nothing really its just Finn, he’s here and I- I can’t see him, please I need to- I need to get out of here. Bellamy, please.” Her voice shakily tripped over the words and tears were burning in the back of her eyes. She needed to get out.

If it was possible his eyes went darker, blacker as he realized what she was saying. Of course he knew all about Finn, he’d been there when she’d burst into Octavia’s small apartment with tears streaming down her face. He’d been there when she’d told Octavia all about how Finn, her boyfriend of six months, actually had a fiancée who lived a state away. How she’d walked in on them in her bed.

And now only a month later, and it still hurt. God, did it hurt. She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t.

“Clarke it’s okay. I won’t let him anywhere near you.” His words were warm, comforting the small crazed part in her that was ready to run for the hills.

His hand was now stroking up and down her arm, she doubt he even knew he was doing it. Trying to calm the spooked horse, and it was working.

But of course, that didn’t last long.  Just as she felt her nerves settling, Bellamy’s protective presence soothing her, she glimpsed his face a few paces away.

She saw it when he recognized her, saw him start to walk over and she panicked. It was too late to leave, and she realized she didn’t want to.

So maybe she did it to spite him, maybe she did it because she knew it would make him go away, maybe it was the alcohol.

Or maybe it was just that she’d secretly wanted to do this for a very long time.

With Finn moving towards them out of the corner of her eye she propelled herself forward towards Bellamy, twining her arms around his neck, gripping his wild hair between her fingers.

“Clarke what are you-“ She smashed her lips against his, begging him to go along with it, begging him to help her. His whole body was tense with surprise, his mouth was unresisting, and for a second she thought he would push her away.

But he didn’t.

His hands went around her waist pulling her into him, and God did he smell good. She melted against him, trying to be as close to him as possible. Their mouths moved together in a hot tangled mess, following each other into the abyss.

She forgot why she was doing this, where she was, who she was hiding from, and everything just melted away. All there was was him. Bellamy. His hands, his mouth, his chest, everywhere engulfing her in everything that made him, him. Desire was racing through her lighting her up, and she’d never felt anything like this with Finn.

Panting she broke away, angry at her body’s need for oxygen, because all she wanted was to stay there locked with him forever. She didn’t care where Finn was, and she couldn’t see him anywhere. All she could see was Bellamy, looking down at her, his lips swollen and his eyes hard with what she thought was desire.

“What was that?” He whispered, their faces inches away from each other, their limbs still entwined. Were they in the middle of the room? She couldn’t quite remember. People didn’t really seem to notice though; they still danced around them drunk, high and everything in between.

“Finn was coming over. He saw me I guess and I thought he’d leave if…” She trailed off at the look in his eyes, hard, distant, and already gone.

“I see.” And with that he pulled away, turning to walk back through the throbbing mass of people, heading towards the door.

Oh fuck.

The thing about Bellamy and Clarke was that there wasn’t really a thing. They bickered ceaselessly, and mocked each other like there was no tomorrow, but there had never been anything between them. He was just Octavia’s older brother, and she was just Octavia’s best friend.

He’d been living with Octavia for the last few months, after he got kicked out of his place for some mysterious unknown reason. She’d only heard about him before then, and it had been obvious to her how much Octavia loved her older brother, but she’d never met him.

She hadn’t known what to expect, but she knew that if he were anything like Octavia he would be all fire and spirit. Of course he had also turned out to be gorgeous, like the full drop dead, movie star gorgeous that was only ever found in movies or television. He had been all fire and spirit and more, picking fights every way he turned, every part the swaggering emotionless bad boy.

What she hadn’t been expecting was the other side. The boy who loved his sister fiercely, who was protective and kind, even to her. Bellamy Blake infuriated her most definitely. But he also didn’t leave when she came to the Blake siblings bawling about Finn. In fact she was pretty sure he was the reason Finn had been sporting a wonderful mask of black and blue two days later.

Clarke and Bellamy weren’t a thing. Except for how they were.

And when Bellamy stormed out, Clarke chased after him.

Her legs moved slowly, as if they couldn’t quite understand the urgent message her brain was trying to send them. It took her forever to reach the door, and by the time she did she figured he would already be gone.

He wasn’t.

He was standing on the porch outside, leaning against the railing. It was dark outside, and chilly. The silence of the outdoors was shocking compared to the blasting noise of the party inside.

He was wearing a pair of faded jeans, and an old leather jacket, she hadn’t really noticed before, too caught up in her own problems to pay attention.

If he heard her come out he didn’t say anything. He was silent. She was overcome with a wave of fear. What if he didn’t forgive her? What if he hated her? What if she lost whatever this was? What if she lost the only person who didn’t treat her like she was a delicate piece of broken china?

What if she never got to kiss him again?

“Bellamy.” Her voice was strong, despite her fears it held the bravery she’d wished she’d had earlier.

“Go back inside, Princess.” He didn’t sound angry. Just tired. Really tired.

“No, I won’t. Bell, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine Princess, it didn’t mean anything. Just wanted to get rid of Finn right?” He laughed coldly.

“Bellamy, look at me.” She pleaded, desperate.

“Go away.”

“Bellamy, please.”

He turned, he was angry now she could tell. She didn’t think he’d ever been angry with her. Annoyed, yes. Mocking and sarcastic? Of course. She’d seen him mad before, seen him turn around and clock a creep who’d been bothering Octavia right in the jaw.

She’d seen him angry, but she’d never seen his anger aimed at her.

“Bellamy, I-“

“You wanted a distraction, and that’s what you got. I get it, it meant nothing, you can leave now.” His voice was harsh, cutting through the air like a knife, each word slicing into her skin. She didn’t know what to say.

“It wasn’t like that!” She just needed him to know, she needed to get it out. She needed him to know that maybe that was how it began, but that it wasn’t how it ended.

He glowered at her.

“Ok, so maybe it was a little, but Bellamy it wasn’t just that Finn was there, I- I wanted to.”

If it was possible, his body tensed up even more. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Maybe she’d read him wrong. Maybe he wasn’t angry that she’d used him to get away from Finn, but angry that she’d forced herself on him. She disgusted him.

“Um. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I forced you to do that, I uh,” She let out a small mocking laugh, how could she have ever even thought that he’d wanted her? Her for gods sake, she wasn’t even his type. “Thanks for going along with it. I just thought, well it doesn’t matter what I thought, I’ll leave you alone now.”

She turned to walk away, not to go back to the party inside, but to make the short walk back home. Yet, as she went to leave she felt a hand once again holding her back.

He spun her around to face him, and she found them mimicking the position they’d been in what just half an hour ago?

“Thought what?” His husky voice was low, but she could hear them clearly, could feel them brush against her cheek in the still calm night. “I thought well, maybe you wanted to.” Her words were just as quiet, but there was no mistaking what she said.

She was scared to look at him, scared to know the answer, the answer she knew she would find in those dark eyes.

“Clarke, look at me.” His large hand cradled her cheek, forcing her eyes to meet his, blue staring into the deepest brown. There was no way out.

But then he was kissing her.

Their roles were reversed this time, he was the one who’d initiated it and she was the one who was shocked and unresponsive at first. This kiss was soft, not as aggressive and rushed as the other one. He was coaxing her into him, his mouth moving gently but firmly against hers. She opened up to him, their breath mixing together, as his tongue moved to meet hers.

It was way better then the drunken frantic heat of the first time.

Need coursed through her, and she pushed against him harder, demanding him to give her more. Bellamy didn’t disappoint.

He moved her back, and pushed her against the railing of the porch, his hands were in her hair, before they moved down her body picking her up and sitting her promptly on the railing. They were at eye level now, and the heat between them was palpable.

Her hands were in his hair again, pulling him into her. He sat in the v between her legs, his hands running up and down her thighs.

She’d never been kissed like this before, and the more he gave the more she wanted.

He broke from her, and she let out a whine. He huffed with a laugh.

“Princess, there’s nothing I wanted to do more.”

She felt a burst of happiness inside her at his words, he wanted this to, and he wanted her. She didn’t think she’d ever been happier.

She surged back, catching his mouth with hers and then they were kissing once more. She never wanted this moment to end.

“Blake! Get your partner-killing ass over here,” he bellowed. Jaha gave him a look and shuffled away. Bellamy sneered at Kane, mostly out of habit, but did as he was bid.

The tall older man glowered at him as he approached. Marcus Kane was an excellent officer and a good teacher, but his training methods were relentless and he didn’t sit for argument. Bellamy knew he was in for a good talking too. He’d “killed” Griffin at least half a dozen times already during this team exercise with Miller and Jaha. In fact, the four of them were the only team not to have passed yet. There was no doubt that it was getting on Kane’s nerves.

Standing beside Kane, Griffin was shaking sand out of that blonde lion’s mane of hers, glaring at Bellamy the whole time. He glared back. If he wasn’t so angry at her and himself, he would have admired the way her khaki pants and sky blue shirt clung to her curves. He wasn’t wasting time appreciating her assets, though, as he was annoyed beyond measure that she had once again refused to follow his direction, instead choosing to go off on her own and get herself killed.

“How do you like the taste of raspberry jelly, Griffin?” he asked as he came to a stop in front of Kane. “You should just admit you have an addiction. I could buy you a jar and save us all this trouble.”

“Actually, I hate it, Blake,” Griffin snarled back. “I wish you would stop spreading it all over me every training.”

Bellamy leered. “Only in your fantasies, Griffin.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but Kane stepped between them.

“That’s enough, the both of you!” he growled. Nostrils flared, his dark eyes blazed in his face.

“You two continuously sabotage your team’s efforts with your refusals to work together,” he began, but Griffin interrupted him.

“But Marcus, I specifically indicated that we should approach the subject with caution from the left as the—”

“—which was unnecessary, Griffin, because I’d already determined that the best course of actions was to head the subject off from the right—”

“See, that proves it!” Griffin stabbed Bellamy right in the chest with an accusing, sticky finger. “It was your fault that the trash can fell over on me and alerted the subject to my pre—”

“ENOUGH!” Kane yelled. Dust fell from the tops of the cardboard skyscrapers surrounding them. Even the fake dead rats seemed to cower when faced with Kane’s Wrath.

I’ll bet he’s submissive in bed, Bellamy thought.

“You two have been getting in each other’s way since Day One!” Kane said. He began to pace. “You haven’t once tried to compromise on an idea for the good of the team, and as a result, your group is consistently in last place during training!” He pointed at Bellamy. “I don’t care how many suspects you’ve apprehended in your career,” he snapped, ignoring Bellamy’s wince. “You aren’t working alone now. Trust is necessary! One false move and you—or a teammate—” He gestured with his thumb in Griffin’s direction. “—are dead!”

Griffin was smirking, which annoyed Bellamy to no end, but the smirk vanished when Kane rounded on her. “And you, Clarke!” He wagged his finger at her. “You, I expected to be better at working with a teammate. You and Reyes were the best team in the field. And I understand that it’s difficult replacing a partner, but when you were paired with Green you two managed to work perfectly fine and yet with Blake—” He swept his hand around, indicating the entire tomb simulation. “—you still haven’t gotten past the first section of the training city without being killed!”

He shook his head. “How can you two be so bad at teamwork? I know you are capable of working with others. Jaha and Miller don’t have this problem with each other, and you two do fine when you are paired with either one of them.”

He held up a hand, cutting off any protest Griffin might have made. “I don’t want to hear any excuses, Clarke,” he said, exhaustion evident in his voice. “I’ve had it. I don’t care how good you are individually or with other teammates. Fieldwork in real life doesn’t allow for do-overs. You have got to be able to work together. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two obviously have some things to work out between you. Hit the showers, Griffin. You too, Blake. When you’re cleaned up, come see me in my office. You both have one last chance to pass the teamwork test or you are both out of this program. I value Jaha and Miller too much to saddle them with you two idiots.” With that, Marcus Kane glared at the two of them, turned on his heel, and left.

Bellamy couldn’t help himself. Despite the pit in his stomach that had formed at the words “one last chance”, he wiggled his eyebrows at Griffin.

“Very mature, Blake,” she hissed. “Why do you keep ignoring my suggestions during these trainings? I do know what I’m doing!”

“So do I, Griffin! Would it kill you to listen to my ideas once in a while?”

Griffin snorted. “Apparently, yes!” She gestured at her jam-covered clothing.

Bellamy stepped forward, glaring down at her. “You got yourself into that situation, Griffin, because once again, you didn’t listen to me.”

Bellamy noticed that Griffin’s gaze kept dropping from his eyes to his lips as he spoke. She licked her own lips in an unconscious gesture. Curious. Was she interested in him?

He gave her a knowing smile. She blushed, stuck her very pink tongue out at him, and stomped off, taking her raspberry jam-encrusted self away to the showers. Bellamy followed her, watching her ass sway as she marched ahead of him and trying unsuccessfully to drive the image of a naked Griffin under a spray of hot water out of his mind.

BcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBc

Everything had been going pretty well until they’d actually arrived at the campsite.

Kane hadn’t told them what they’d be doing. He’d simply handed them a map, two large backpacks, and two sleeping bags. “You’ll find your instructions at the site,” he’d said, just before the car taking them to the location pulled away.

They’d been dropped off in the middle of a clearing in an unfamiliar forest. The sun had set about an hour before and the air was chilly. Bellamy searched around inside the packs, finding two winter coats and a bundle of canvas and stakes. A piece of paper inside fell to the mossy ground. Griffin snatched it up before Bellamy could grab it.

The note contained a short set of instructions from Kane. This forest, he’d written, was hiding a safe house where a kidnap victim was located. Their orders were simple: pitch the tent, locate the safe house, and “rescue” the kidnap victim. Then they just had to survive until morning without freezing to death.

They were to do it all of this as a team.

The terse note also told them that Kane had placed hidden cameras in the area. He would know if they didn’t work together to do the task. They wouldn’t be able to leave the location without a guide and their ride wouldn’t return until the next morning. Basically, they were stuck here for the night. Bellamy stared at Clarke in disbelief after hearing the instructions.

“He must be joking,” he said. “Us, working together?”

“What’s the matter, Blake? Afraid?”

“No,” Bellamy retorted, “let’s just get the ten set up, it’s going to be cold soon.”

As if to emphasize his point, a bitter wind gusted through the trees. They both shivered, as they were only wearing their FBI issued light weight blue shirts and cargo pants. Donning one of the two coats, Bellamy wordlessly held the other one open for Griffin. He shook it at her when she eyed him suspiciously, but then the wind blew again and she quickly turned around and allowed him to help her put the coat on.

She murmured her thanks, and then grabbed the jumbled mass of canvas and tent poles and proceeded to actually attempt to assemble the thing.

He never would have pictured her as the camping type.

At first, he simply watched her, standing guard over their two sleeping bags. He enjoyed watching her bend and flex while she tried to construct their sleeping quarters, and he allowed himself a short fantasy about canoodling with her inside the small tent. He grunted, and shook the thoughts from his head.

When he offered to help, she flashed him a genuine smile, surprising him with its warmth. Then she put him to work, directing him to put Pole A into Slot B, which he immediately illustrated with lewd jokes. She told him repeatedly to shut up, but he couldn’t help noticing her cheeks heat pink with blushes and sideways glances. Griffin was flirting with him! That sudden knowledge was almost as effective as if a heater had just been plugged in next to them.

Now, they were almost finished, except for one stray rod of metal.

“Here! Look.” Griffin triumphantly brandished the manual at him. “That piece of tent pole is used as a brace at the front of the tent to keep the ‘threshold’ secure.”

Bellamy crawled to the front of the tiny tent, squinted in the dark, and then shoved the rod into the empty slot he finally located in the canvas at the bottom of the entry flap. It fit. Bellamy settled on his knees, feeling triumphant.

“Looks like we’ve passed the first test at least,” noted Bellamy. He shoved the two sleeping bags in and crawled in after them.

“What are you doing, Blake?” Griffin asked. “We can’t go to sleep yet. We still have to find our kidnap victim.

"Yes,” Bellamy drawled, unrolling the bags and spreading them out. “But trust me, Griffin. It’s better to get this done first. Don’t you think we’ll be tired and want to just pass out when we get back here?” He sat back on his haunches to survey his work. The bags didn’t really fit. They overlapped down one long edge. He frowned but then noticed that the two sleeping bags could actually be zipped together, creating one big sleeping bag for two people to share.

One could only hope.

“Hmm. It looks pretty crowded,” Griffin said just over his shoulder, making him jump. She’d stuck her head in through the tent flap to check his progress.

He turned his head to look at her. Their faces were so close together his cheek brushed against hers.

Soft, he thought.

“Yea well,” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “Conservation of body heat and all that.”

Griffin withdrew, and Bellamy crawled backwards out of the tent. He made sure to flex the muscles in his ass as he stood and was rewarded with the sound of a feminine gasp. He smirked to himself. When he turned around, Griffin’s eyes snapped upward, guiltily, to his face. She was definitely pink in the cheeks. He grinned.

“Well! That’s done,” she said brusquely, rubbing her hands together and blowing on them. “Thank you, Blake. So. That just leaves rescuing our kidnap victim.” She looked up. There was no moonlight. Only stars could be seen peeking through the treetops.

“That’s inconvenient. No moonlight to help us find a path. We’ll have to be extremely careful.”

“I’m sure that was no accident, Griffin. Kane’s intimately acquainted with the need for stealth and caution,” Bellamy drawled.

“That’s a horrible thing to say, Blake!”

He shrugged. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Only because he was shot while on a mission because his partner was too loud in the field, chasing after a suspect to get to his baby sister—”

“I had no idea Octavia was the kidnap and the Bureau never would have let me on the case if they had!” Bellamy said, forcing himself to remain calm. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I had a heart-to-heart talk with Kane months ago, during my interview for this team. I apologized to him for my role in his shooting, he accepted my apology, and then we spent the rest of the time discussing Octavia. .”

She glared at him. He glared back. Then she said, in a quiet voice, “You did?”

He nodded, his arms folded. “Yes. I did. If he doesn’t blame me for it, why should you?”

She bit her lip. “I'm…sorry, Blake.”

“Thanks, Griffin.” He gave her a small smile. “To be perfectly honest, I think it was my bad attitude that got me the job in the first place.”

She stared at him for a moment before releasing a surprised burst of laughter. Bellamy chuckled, too. It was the first time they’d ever shared a laugh. It felt good.

Griffin gradually stopped laughing, but she was still smiling. “All right, Blake. Let’s go find our victim and pass this test.”

“There’s just one small snag, Griffin. Neither of us knows what our victim looks like”

She shook her head. “You’re right.” She held up a sealed envelope. “At least not yet.”

“Where did that come from?”

“It was in the pocket of this coat,” she said, smugly. “It’s a dossier.”

“That was convenient, wasn’t it,” Bellamy said.

He reached for the envelope but Griffin pulled it out of his reach. He settled for looking over her shoulder as she flipped through the packet. She stopped on a page towards the middle. “Here it is,” she said, poking the picture. “That’s what the cabin looks like, and it says that out kidnap victim is…a dummy? Well that will make things a bit easier.” She closed the book and headed for the trees. “Let’s go, then.”

Bellamy picked up the map. “Forgetting something, Griffin?” He smirked.

Griffin rolled her eyes. “Of course not, Blake,” she said. “I was trusting that you would bring it along.” She winked and headed into the forest.

With a grin slowly spreading across his face, Bellamy followed her.

BcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBcBc  

Almost two hours later, they found themselves staring over the edge of a deep ravine.

“Bellamy. Look how far down it is!” Her voice shook. She grabbed his hand, hard. Her own hand was cold and sweating.

Bellamy looked at Griffin in surprise, startled by her use of his first name. She looked miserable. He’d always scoffed at her dislike of airplanes, thinking it was just a fear of not being in control Seeing her this way now, he realized there was obviously a deeply-seated fear of heights.

He sighed. The cabin sat at the very bottom of the ravine. It was about thirty feet deep, and the walls were almost vertical, with very few discernible handholds. There was a dead tree wedged between the walls about halfway down. How were they to get to the cabin? There was no rope. There were no vines, this being a forest and not a jungle. All they had were… themselves. A hyperventilating, frightened young woman and a half-frozen young man. As he listened to Griffin’s panicky breathing, Bellamy began to form a plan.

“Griffin,” he said. “I know how we are going to do this. Follow my lead.”

Bellamy dropped onto his stomach, swung his legs out over the fallen tree in the ravine, and began to lower himself down to its trunk. There were a few handholds here and there, in the form of tree roots and saplings mainly, and he was able to reach the tree itself fairly quickly. He picked his way around the broken branches carefully so he could look down at the ravine floor. He gauged the distance—the cabin was about ten feet below them.

He smiled and looked up at Griffin. “Come on down. What are you waiting for?”

Griffin’s pale little face looked over the edge at him. He could barely make out her features. “But… but how will we get back up, Bellamy?”

“There are plenty of handholds. We’ll be able to get back up, don’t worry. Come on. I’m right here. I won’t let you fall. I have a plan.” He held his hands up to her. When she still hesitated, he taunted, “Well? Which is it, Griffin? Are you a scaredy cat?”

That did it. He couldn’t see her well, but he could imagine the stubborn set to her jaw. She got down on her belly and carefully edged her bum out over the lip of the ravine, right above his head. She began to pick her way down. He could just make out her outline in the dark, and he took a firm hold of her ankles as soon as they were within reach. He helped her down the rest of the way, his hands grasping her knees, hips, and then waist, until finally she was in his arms, feet firmly planted on the great tree trunk. “You made it, Griffin. Nice.” She closed her eyes, gasping, and clung to him. He rubbed her back soothingly. He could get used to this.

When her breathing had slowed slightly, he said, “Are you ready? It’s time for the next step.”

“What is the next step?” Griffin’s voice was soft but shrill. “We’re still about ten feet up, Bellamy. We can’t reach the ground from here!”

“Not yet we can’t. But we will.”

He sat down on the trunk. He’d found a long, sturdy branch still attached to the tree, just thick enough to hold his weight, and maybe a little more. It was perfect for what he had in mind. He slid out onto it slowly, testing it. It held his weight with no trouble. He wrapped his legs around it securely.

“Come here, Griffin,” he said, holding out a hand to her. “I’ll lower you down. Then you’ll be able to reach the ground. You should be able to drop down, get to the cabin, grab the victim, and hand her up to me. I’ll pull you back up as soon as we’ve got her secured.”

“What? How… No!”

Bellamy showed her. He flipped himself over so he was upside down on the branch, his legs still holding on securely. “See? I used to do this all the time playing with O on the monkey bars.” He righted himself. “You’ve seen my legs, Griffin. You know I can hold on. Trust me,” he added, holding his hand out to her once more.

Her gaze met his. He could see her eyes, barely, in this dark ravine. They were shining with starlight. He waited, patiently. If she didn’t find her bravery, they weren’t going to be able to do this, and they’d fail the test.

“If I don’t do this, we’ll fail, won’t we?” she muttered. Bellamy said nothing. It was rather obvious. Another minute passed, and then he heard her mutter “what the hell” under her breath before she reached to take his hand. He smiled. Guiding her out onto the branch, he coaxed her to sit facing him. Once she was in position, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Ready?” he asked, and before she could change her mind, he flipped both of them over to hang upside down beneath the branch.

Clarke shrieked. She tried to grab him but her arms were pressed tight against her sides. He’d been ready for this reaction, though, and he had pulled her securely against his chest as they’d flipped. Now, his thighs were straining a bit with the effort of holding them both, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Now, I’ll lower you down, slowly,” he whispered in her ear.

She whimpered and shivered, but nodded. “Don't… please don’t drop me, Bellamy.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “You can trust me, Clarke. I’ll never let go.”

With that, Bellamy Blake cautiously lowered Clarke Griffin down toward the forest floor. By holding her wrists, he was able to get her close enough to the ground that she could drop down without injury. He concentrated on his breathing and his grip and tried not to notice the way both her coat and her shirt slid to expose her creamy white stomach and back.

His heart filled with admiration for her. She was impressive. Despite her fear, she worked quickly and efficiently, dropping down to the ground and heading off at a quick clip towards the cabin. Bellamy right himself, and watched as the moonlight followed her blonde head across the ravine. She cautiously opened the door to the cabin and peeked her head in, training weapon at the ready. In very little time, Griffin had retrieved the kidnapping victim and carried her back with her across the ravine. They’d done it!

“I’m done!” she called, after she handed the dummy up to him. “Pull me up now, Bellamy.”

Thank God for all those ab workouts! Quickly, he had Griffin back in his arms and then up onto the tree trunk. He pulled himself up next to her. She threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Bellamy dropped and arm over her shoulder and hugged her to him. “You did great,” he murmured in her ear. He felt her smile against his neck.

He grabbed the dummy and tossed it over his should in a fireman’s carry, and together they made their way back up the side of the ravine. Using the silvery moonlight, they made their way back to the campsite.

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"Well,“ Griffin murmured. She stirred the fire with a stick, sending sparks into the air. Bellamy had found matches in an inside pocket of his coat. "We rescued the victim.”

Bellamy nodded. "We did, indeed,” he said. “Despite great personal risk.” He nudged the dummy with his foot. Griffin reached over and placed it carefully beside the tent. “Thank you for not dropping me.”

Bellamy smiled. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

She smiled back. “Yes, you did. And you should know that, even though I was scared the entire time, not once did I ever think you’d let go. Not for one second.”

Her eyes were shining when he looked at her. Her lips were slightly parted and the light of the fire made her hair glow like burnished gold. She looked like a woodland fairy. The mystical air about her was emphasized when she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was long, slow, and sizzling with promise. Bellamy buried his hands in her hair, holding her to him, and explored her mouth with his.

To his (by now, admittedly slight) surprise, Griffin climbed into his lap and began to unbutton his shirt beneath his unzipped coat. He let her. He sucked in his breath as she slid her hands over his chest. “Well, of course I would never have let you fall to your death, Clarke,” he said. “We needed to pass the training.”

Griffin laughed. He liked her laugh. She caressed his chest and his shoulders, causing him to groan. He liked her hands, too.

“I think we definitely passed,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her again. She stopped him with one finger over his lips. When he raised a questioning eyebrow, she gave him a sly smile, leaned over, and opened the tent flap behind them.

“Would you like to carry this on inside?” she asked.

Folding her arms and raising an eyebrow, Clarke stared him down.

“What?” Bellamy growled at her.

“You handled that well,” she remarked mockingly.

“Who asked you for your opinion, princess?”

“I thought you asked for all our opinions as you chose to have this fight in public where we could all witness it.”

He gave her a withering glare, the muscle in his jaw jumping with his irritation.  She couldn’t help but feel smug that she wasn’t not letting him off the hook. That she continued to annoy him in Octavia’s stead. It felt fitting somehow.

“You know, if you bothered to actually listen to Octavia and meet Lincoln properly, then you’d see that your problem with their relationship is pathetic.”

He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her, almost studying her.

“You’re Clarke, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” she replied, popping the p with peppy vigour.

“Figures,” he muttered.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked testily.

“You look like the meddling type.”

Clarke huffed out annoyed breath. “Meddling?”

“You set O up with Lincoln despite him being eight years older and now you’re getting in my face and giving me shit even though we’ve never even met before.”

“Well, someone clearly has to,” she replied. “You need taking down a peg or two. Octavia is nineteen years old, yet you seem to think you can still run her life.”

He grimaced a little at her words and rubbed a frustrated hand over his face before looking away as if he couldn’t meet her gaze. However, Clarke refused to give him an easy way out, instead staying in front of him and tapping her foot to dispel some of the irritation she felt with him.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” he asked after a long pause.

“You know what?” she replied, gesturing to the rest of the group who were standing in obvious discomfort at the Blake Sibling drama they’d just witness. “We all do. You can show yourself out.

Gesturing to the others, she tossed her head a little and walked out of Wells’ room without a backward glance.

She wasn’t going to waste any more of her time arguing with an overprotective dick who didn’t know when it was time to let go.

————-

The first time Clarke managed to actually put her animosity aside and work with Bellamy Blake, it was a year later. This time, instead of going out for a meal and then hitting a bar with their group of friends, Monty was hosting a board game themed Valentine’s Day bash.

It was primarily so he could invite Bellamy’s friend Miller, who had come along to a couple of gatherings Octavia had organised over the past year and included her brother in. As quick as a summer storm, the arguing between them had been over much to Clarke’s bemusement. Perhaps that was because she was an only child. Plus she was a grudge holder. It was a petty character trait, but she’d come to terms with who she was a long time ago. However, the Blakes apparently weren’t able to keep an argument going indefinitely and couldn’t be out of each other’s lives for too long.

Octavia had made Bellamy promise to give Lincoln a chance, which he’d done with little grace. However, even an over protective older brother could not hate a boyfriend, no matter how much older, who treated Octavia as well as Lincoln did – not matter how hard he tried.

Once their differences had been ironed out, Bellamy had been around a little more. Coming along to drinks that Octavia organised to celebrate something or another. His animosity towards Lincoln may have dissipated, but he and Clarke still disliked each other. They would snipe at each other at every meeting, which would inevitably lead to an argument and glares. Luckily, each meeting was few and far between.

However, tonight, she was going to have to put up with Bellamy’s presence.

“Okay,” Raven said, passing Miller’s beanie around. “Put your name in here and we’ll draw out game partners.”

Clarke caught the subtle wink Raven sent Monty’s way, which meant she’d worked out a way to rig the draw so he’d get to partner Miller.

Apparently, she’d not thought to rig the draw so that Clarke and Bellamy would not be drawn as partners.

Their names were called out together much to the amusement of the rest of the table. Jasper swapped chairs with Bellamy so that they could sit together.

“Just leave this to me, princess,” Bellamy said cockily. “Risk is my forte.”

Clarke snorted in derision. “Risk demands an ability to strategize and no disrespect, Bellamy, but I’ve seen how well you plan things. I suggest you sit back and let me take charge.”

“No chance,” he hit back.

It took them nearly being wiped out before they got into a rhythm with each other. Bellamy making the short-term decisions, whilst Clarke weighed up the board and mapped out an endgame for them to dominate. The rest of the group watched in fascinated horror as they continued to bicker but came to trust each other’s strengths long enough to crush all opposition.

“That’s how you do it!” Bellamy crowed, as Raven and Wells were finally vanquished, holding his hand out for Clarke to hi-five.

They grinned at each, satisfied and flushed with their success, before they realised that they were actually meant to dislike each other. Looking away quickly, they both got up from the table in a rush and moved to opposite ends of the room.

They avoided each other for the rest of the night, but Clarke went home and realised that she didn’t actually dislike Bellamy anymore. She still found him annoying and horribly smug at times, but the rush of anger she used to get when she saw him was no longer present.

———–

The first time Bellamy Blake was a friend to Clarke was the following year. However, that Valentine’s Day, Bellamy was not the one causing a scene, Clarke was. Albeit, a very quiet one, on her own, sitting at the end of Octavia’s bed crying.

When Bellamy first ducked his head around the door, seemingly drawn to her inability to stifle her sobs effectively, he drew back a little, as if caught in two minds about whether to come in or not. His not very apparent kinder side won out and he lowered himself onto the bed next to her.

He didn’t say anything straight away, just sat there quietly, not touching her, but she could feel the warmth from his body slightly, and it felt nice in a quiet, undemanding yet supportive way.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping her cheeks with her fingers and swallowing back the sobs that were clawing their way up her throat.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked gruffly.

Clarke shrugged a little and replied, “For being a mess at a party. I feel like a cliché right now.”

“O told me you broke up with your girlfriend.”

Her shoulders shook a little when she thought of Lexa, of how she thought everything was great and then all of sudden it wasn’t. Lexa walking away had come out the blue and just knocked the breath from her lungs.

“It was over a month ago. You think I’d be over it by now.”

“Valentine’s Day is pretty good at making you feel like a romantic failure even when you aren’t.”

Clarke lifted her head and studied him curiously. “Is that what you feel like?”

It was Bellamy’s turn to shrug. “Everyone keeps reminding me that my little sister is engaged and my last serious relationship was years ago. It’s starts to grate after a while and that’s without everyone assuming that I take every girl I meet at a bar home to fuck.”

Bellamy did have a bit of a reputation amongst their social circle. Jasper was in awe of it and was constantly nagging Bellamy to take him out to bars so he could hook up. She had never realised it was something that annoyed Bellamy. He always took their teasing with good grace, but she realised that she’d never seen him actually leave with a random girl from the bar. He was always busy getting them all cabs and basically being an older brother. It was something that had annoyed her in the past for some odd reason she couldn’t quite place.

“Valentine’s Day is the worst,” Clarke said in lieu of anything better.

His lips curled up a little at that in amusement and he nodded his agreement.

“Want to hide out in here and get drunk?” she asked. “I’m not sure I want to inflict my misery on everyone else and ruin their fun.”

“O would really hate to have to stop flashing that diamond around,” he commented.

She huffed out a laugh at that, the first one she has managed all night and he nudged her shoulder companionably and asked, “Up to making a booze run to the kitchen?”

“Four hands would get us significantly more than two,” she said.

“That’s the spirit!”

They spent the rest of the night holed up in Octavia’s bedroom, getting drunk and watching stupid cat videos on their phones.

It’s not until the next morning that Clarke realised that she hadn’t thought about Lexa for the rest of the night and that she’d laughed more than she had for ages. Bellamy had managed to do what none of her other friends had; make her forget her shitty break-up and have a good time.

That afternoon, he texted her a couple of funny otter videos and she felt lighter than she had since Lexa walked out on her.

————

The first time Clarke realised that Bellamy Blake was her best friend was a year later when she arrived early at his apartment only, letting herself in with a key he’d given her a couple of months. It was his turn to host the Valentine’s Day friendship party and she’d come over to give him a hand setting up.

The apartment was dark and quiet and Clarke frowned. Usually, Bellamy’s was a hive of activity before he had the group over. He would rush to and fro as he cleaned and got everything ready. It was one of the reasons why Clarke always offered to go over and help him. She knew he wasn’t content with just a cursory tidy-up like most of them were.

However, there was no noise from the vacuum or the smell of lavender polish in the air. Instead, it sounded almost as if no one was home.

“Bellamy?” she called out.

“In the front room,” he replied.

There was something off with his tone. It was flat with none of the warmth that he usually infused in it when she first came into the apartment.

She walked down to the large living room and stopped in the frame of the door as she saw him slumped on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, “What happened?” she asked.

“Gina dumped me.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, sliding down on the floor next to him, her hand coming out to clasp his. “Why?”

“She wanted us to move in together and I said no,” he said and he must have caught her wince out of the corner of his eye because he added, “It took me by surprise, but I knew I wasn’t ready for that. She said it was obvious that we wanted different things and that I-”

He cut himself off and shook his head slightly as if to get rid of the words that had been about to spill out of his mouth.

“And that you what?” Clarke asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

She knew that he was lying, that it was definitely more than nothing, but she wasn’t going to push him. There was nothing worse than someone trying to make you open up when you didn’t want to. It was one of the reasons why she and Bellamy worked so well together – they never pushed each other like that. Their friendship was easy, despite its rocky beginnings. She could be herself with him and sometimes that meant holding things deep inside her and he was the same.

A silence fell between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Then he squeezed her hand lightly and said, “Thanks, Clarke. You’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

Warmth spread through her at his words. She’d known this deep down, just as she knew he was her best friend, but it was the first time either of them had said.

“Yeah. You, too,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

———-

The first time Bellamy Blake kissed Clarke Griffin, they’d been living together as room-mates for six months. The lease to her apartment had run out and her landlady had wanted to sell, so she’d been looking with increasing desperation for somewhere to live that she could afford. Indra had appreciated having a steady tenant in a block of apartments that was renowned for being student rentals and so she’d kept the rent down for Clarke, knowing that she wouldn’t have to completely renovate the place at the end of each academic year.

In the meantime, the rents around her had skyrocketed and Clarke didn’t want to move too far out as it would mean a long commute in to work. So Bellamy had suggested that she take his spare room. She had only hesitated for a split second before accepting.  There had been the usual teasing from their friends the day they’d all helped Clarke move in, with Octavia declaring that she’d thought she would never see the day.

However, it was nice. They worked well together, which would’ve come as a surprise to her four years ago, but was nothing more than she expected now. Living together proved to be no exception.

The only downside was Clarke’s increasing awareness of her attraction to Bellamy. It had been steadily increasing, ever since that day a year ago, when they’d held hands in the gloom of his living room and he’d called her his best friend. It had been easy to ignore when they weren’t living together, but had started to become a real problem since she’d moved in.

Luckily, only Wells had noticed so far. She put it down to him knowing her since birth and because he’d caught her ogling Bellamy’s back as he perused the contents of the fridge while shirtless. A loyal friend, Wells had said nothing to anyone, not even to Raven, but he would make pointed comments to Clarke every now and again about how she didn’t want to waste her life pining.

She hadn’t imagined her feelings coming to head on that day, although it felt a little fateful that it had.

The group of friends had decided that they wanted a ‘grown-up’ Valentines this year and so had booked a swanky restaurant that required them to dress up.

She twisted as she tried once more to yank the zipper on the back of her dress up, but to no avail. It was useless to keep attempting to do it on her own. She needed another pair of hands.

“Bellamy!” Clarke yelled out. “I need your help.”

She gulped as he walked into her room with just his slacks on, his broad chest still glistening damply from his shower.

“What’s up?” he asked before he caught sight of her and trailed off, his eyes tracking down her.

Clarke was aware that she’d deliberately chosen to wear her best formal dress – one that made her breasts look amazing. She hadn’t admitted to herself that she’d wanted to get a reaction out of Bellamy, but as his eyes rested on her cleavage, she couldn’t lie to herself any more. She’d totally wanted him to be speechless.

“I need help zipping this up,” she said, her voice going a couple of octaves deeper than it usually was.

“Uh…yeah…sure,” he replied distractedly and it was a couple of seconds before he realised that he actually need to move.

A slight flush mounted his cheeks as he came to stand behind her and gently pulled the fabric of her dress together. His flustered air emboldened Clarke to finally make a move and she pushed back slightly against him, her ass coming to rest against his groin as he began to zip the dress up far more slowly than was actually required. His breath hissed out of his mouth and one hand gripped her hips, it heat searing through her dress as she rolled her hips teasingly once more.

“You’re playing with fire, Clarke,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

Arching her back slightly so her neck was at a tempting angle for his mouth, she said, “What are you going to do about it?”

Letting loose a little groan, Bellamy dipped his head pressed his lips hotly to a spot just below her ear that had her shivering in delight. He sucked on the pressure point for a second before Clarke whirled around, tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him up for a deep kiss.

———-

The first time Clarke realised that Bellamy was it for her it was a couple of hours later. They’d missed the appetisers at the expensive restaurant, sheepishly wandering in an hour late and holding hands.

Their friends whistled and jeered good naturedly at them, Raven waggling her eyebrows at Clarke and Miller teasing Bellamy about his swollen lips.

“About time,” Octavia grumbled. “But I don’t ever want to hear anything about it.”

“I do!” Raven jumped in immediately. “I want all the details!”

“Ugh,” Octavia said but the little smile that played at the corners of her mouth as she looked fondly at her older brother gave away that she was pleased.

Octavia shrugged when Clarke asked more about it. “I know he read it, but it’s not like he talks to me about this stuff. But I hope you guys get married. I want you to actually be my sister, not just my best friend.”

“Me too,” Clarke replied, idly flipping the pages of her math workbook. “Hey, do you remember what we’re supposed to be working on?”

“Who cares?” Octavia asked, doodling in the margins of her own book. “Want to come over for a sleepover this weekend? We can sneak into Bell’s room and try to see if he kept the note.”

The second time Clarke decided she was in love with Bellamy she was in fourth grade and he was in sixth. February was about to turn into March, snow covered the playground and an icy wind bit at her cheeks. She saw her dad pull up into the school parking lot just as she marched up to where Bellamy sat crouched over a book and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at her, eyes not fully focused behind his glasses.

“I like you,” she blurted out, cheeks warming with her embarrassment. “Bye!”

That night she got a phone call from Octavia. “Did you really walk up to my brother and tell him you like him?”

Clarke felt her cheeks turn red again. “Yes?”

Octavia laughed for a long time on the other end of the call. “Are you just going to tell him you like him every year until you guys actually date?”

“Probably,” Clarke admits.

“I know something you don’t,” Octavia grinned as she leaned against the locker next to Clarke’s between classes. As fifth graders they had moved into the middle school next to their old elementary school and actually had to go to their lockers between classes. They’d also been put into different classes for the first time since meeting.

“Science was that good?” Clarke asked, switching out her history and math books.

“What?” Octavia asked, a frown line crinkling her forehead. “No, not about that. I know something about Bellamy that you don’t know.”

“He’s your brother, you know a lot about him that I don’t,” Clarke argued, ignoring the butterfly feeling in her stomach. “But what do you know?”

Her grin widened. “He has a crush.”

Clarke’s stomach dropped. “Oh? Who is she?” She mentally ran through the list of seventh grade girls she knew, trying to figure out which would be the one Bellamy liked.

Octavia used Clarke’s open locker door to imitate a drumroll. “You!”

Clarke stopped breathing, the butterflies in her stomach lurching back to life. “What?”

“He has a crush on you!” Octavia repeated. “I asked him if he was going to ask any of the girls in his class to that seventh and eighth grade dance just after New Years’ and he said no because the girl he liked was too young and I kept bugging him until he admitted it was you!”

“Oh my gosh,” Clarke breathed. “What should I do?”

Octavia held up her hands and shrugged. “I don’t know? Kiss him?”

“I can’t just kiss him,” Clarke replied as the bell for the next period began. The girls exchanged glances before Clarke slammed her locker shut and ran off to their classes.

She went over to the Blake’s house that weekend for a sleepover and couldn’t even look at Bellamy. Octavia threw pillows at her for the rest of their Disney movie marathon after he left them alone in the living room. Clarke bundled herself in blankets and groaned at her own incompetence.

Clarke was in tenth grade when she first kissed her lab partner Lexa under the bleachers at a school Pep Fest. The other girl had pulled back with a grin and smoothed some of Clarke’s hair away from her face. “Want to get out of here?”

Octavia called her on the phone that night. “Did I see you sneak out of the stupid Pep Fest with Lexa today?”

“Why are we actually talking on the phone?” Clarke asked in response.

“This was too important to text,” Octavia replied. “Monty said he saw you two holding hands.”

Clarke pulled at the loose thread on the throw blanket across the foot of her bed. “We, um, kind of hooked up.”

“You don’t kind of hook up,” Octavia replied. “You do or you don’t. So are you a lesbian now?”

“No, I mean, I still like guys too,” Clarke replied. “I looked it all up online. I think I’m bisexual?”

“Cool, double the dating choices,” Octavia replied. “So did you hook up?”

Clarke blushed slightly, a little grin on her face. “We went out to the parking lot and made out in her car.”

“Nice,” Octavia replied. “But aren’t you still in love with my brother?”

Clarke shrugged, forgetting Octavia couldn’t see her. “That’s not going anywhere, and Lexa is really cool and smart and hot. I think I could really like her.”

“Cool,” Octavia said. “Want to meet up at the football game tonight? I can point at people and you can say if you think they’re hot or not.”

Clarke laughed. “Yeah, I’ll meet you at the concession stand.”

The summer after Clarke turned sixteen, her dad died. The night of a huge summer thunderstorm she’d been sketching in her bedroom when the phone rang and moments later she heard the door slam. She went downstairs, expecting to at least find a note from her mom as to where she went, but nothing waited for her on the marble countertop of the kitchen. Shrugging, she got a glass of milk and went back to her room.

She was shaken awake at four in the morning. Her mom’s eyes were red and the expression on her face made her look like she was absolutely empty inside. Clarke sat up in bed, struggling against her blankets. “Mom?”

“Your father was in a car accident,” her mother replied. “A semi-truck slipped on the road. The doctors took him into surgery, but he just passed away an hour ago.”

“An hour ago?” Clarke repeated. “But- wait- was that the phone call you had earlier? The hospital called to say dad had been in an accident and you didn’t even tell me? You just left?” Tears filled her eyes as it hit her. “Dad’s gone? And I didn’t get to say goodbye?”

Abby reached out a hand to cup Clarke’s face. Clarke jerked away, jumping out of bed and going to her closet. She threw a sweatshirt on over her pajamas, shoving feet into flip-flops. “Clarke,” Abby started.

“I need some air,” Clarke bit back, leaving the room and going out through the front door. She walked quickly, building up to a run until her breath left her in gasps as she turned the corner past her old middle and elementary schools. She ran two more blocks until she came to a stop on the doorstep of an old small house with a light brown door. Forgetting the time, she knocked.

A few moments passed before the door opened, Bellamy standing on the other side in an old t-shirt and a pair of boxers, blinking sleepily. “Clarke? What are you doing here?”

She let out a shuddering gasp as she reached up to wipe some of the tears out of her eyes. “My dad just died.”

Wordlessly Bellamy reached out and tugged her into a hug. She leaned against him, hands over her face as she sobbed.

Clarke threw her arms around Octavia and Raven’s shoulders as they all pressed their cheeks to each other’s and smiled for the cameras, their diplomas and mortarboards held in their hands and the itchy fabric of the graduation gowns scratching at their arms. They all shrieked as Jasper and Monty threw themselves into the pile.

“We did it!” Jasper yelled in Raven’s ear. “We survived high school!”

Octavia laughed as Jasper spun her around. Bellamy lowered the camera he held, scowling at them all. “Hold still, damn it!”

“You’ve been taking pictures all night, relax,” Raven told him. “We’re all spending the night at your place anyway, I’m sure you’ll get so many more of us.”

“Yeah, but you’ll all be drunk and won’t be in the graduation robes,” he remarked. “I don’t think those are the kinds of pictures that should be circulated to families.”

Once they were all at the Blakes’ house, Raven, Octavia, and Clarke rushed off to Octavia’s room, getting rid of the graduation robes, changing out of dresses and into cut-off shorts and tank tops. Raven threw her hair up into her usual messy ponytail, laughing as she did so. “Okay, bets on who’s hooking up tonight?”

“Bellamy and Clarke,” Octavia replied immediately.

“Excuse me?” Clarke said, voice choked.

Octavia faced her, hands on hips. “You have been in love with my brother for ten years. In the fall you’re going off to the East Coast for college and who knows when you’ll see him again. It’s now or never, Clarke.”

“She’s right,” Raven commented. “It’s now or never, babe.”

Clarke sat on the edge of Octavia’s bed, hands twisting her hair into a braid. “Look, you don’t have feelings for someone for so long and then just tell them. It’s not that easy.”

“You’ve told him how you feel before,” Octavia pointed out.

“Yeah,” Clarke laughed. “In elementary school. I didn’t know anything back then, I mean, I was young and stupid and didn’t know I could even like girls and my dad hadn’t died and I hadn’t met Lexa-”

“And gotten fucked over by her,” Raven added.

Clarke glared at her. “The point is I can’t just go up to Bellamy like I did in fourth grade and say I’m in love with him. It doesn’t work like that.”

Octavia shrugged as she headed to the door. “It’s your life. But my money is still on the two of you hooking up.”

Raven rolled her eyes as Octavia left for the living room, music already beginning to pound through the house from where Monty had set up his sound system. “If Bellamy doesn’t want to hook up with you, I will,” she offered. “You’re hot, I’m hot, it’s our last summer before college.”

Clarke laughed, getting to her feet and looping her arm in Raven’s as they walked down the hall. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Around two in the morning Clarke sat alone out in the backyard, head tilted up to watch the stars. Music flooded out into the night before becoming muffled again as the back door opened and closed. Bellamy dropped to sit beside her in the grass, shoulder brushing hers as he settled. “Music too loud?” she asked.

“And the house is getting too warm with everyone dancing around,” he replied. “Jasper was mentioning a conga line, and I did not want to be there for that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, looking up at the crescent moon. She glanced over at him. “I had the biggest crush on you growing up, you know.”

“Yeah?” he replied, eyes still on the stars.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I even wrote you a secret admirer valentine one year.”

“That was you?” he asked, grinning as he looked at her. “I still have that note. It made me feel like the coolest kid. No one else ever had a secret admirer.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well, no one else had a little sister whose best friend had the worst crush.”

“I had a crush on you for a while, actually,” he admitted, lying back on the ground. She glanced back at his face, frowning. “Back in middle school and the start of high school. I was going to ask you out so many times.”

“Why didn’t you?” Clarke asked, lying back on the grass, close enough that their arms brushed.

He turned his head to smile at her, intoxicatingly close. She could see his freckles in the light spilling from the windows behind them. “First you were too young, and then by the time I had gotten enough nerve you were dating Lexa. I figured you weren’t interested after that.”

She huffed out a laugh. “After Lexa I was a mess. But you should have asked.”

“And then your dad died,” he continued. “And so that was definitely not the right time to ask you out, and then I was at college and it seemed like it would be creepy to date a high school girl.”

“And now?” Clarke murmured, eyes glued to his.

His eyes flitted down to her lips before returning to her eyes. “Now I really just want to kiss you.”

She grinned and rolled onto her side, moving close enough so that their lips brushed. Bellamy mirrored her, rolling until she was on her back and he leaned on his elbows above her. He traced the curve of her lower lip with his thumb. “Could I?”

Clarke leaned up to press their lips together, smiling when he kissed her back and they settled closer to the ground, his body pressed up against her side as she tangled her hands in his curly hair.

And there are plenty of people who live their entire lives seeing in shades of grey. Sure, the rate of divorce is much lower with soulmates but there are happy people who don’t see color. Her parents were happy before her dad died. (It’s a completely different matter that her mom had found her actual soulmate, months after and is just as happy with him).

Frankly, she doesn’t see what the fuss is about, but she was indifferent about it. Live and let live, as far as she was concerned.

Then, she kisses Wells and everything goes to shit.

She’s sixteen when Wells asks her if he could kiss her. Clarke could have said no. Wells wouldn’t have minded. They’ve known each other since practical infancy. Wells is her best friend in the world, he could have handled Clarke not wanting to kiss him. Honestly, Clarke thinks the only reason he wants to kiss her, is because he needed to get it out of the way. Especially, since everyone seemed to think that they were soulmates. She couldn’t exactly blame them. They were similar in so many ways. If Clarke wants to do something, chances are, he’d already beaten her to it.

So yeah, she could see it.

Frankly, there are worse things than getting Wells as a soulmate.

So she says yes and she wrings her arms around his neck and kisses him. She’s tried it before. With Maya (who wasn’t interested in girls but liked her hair) and Monty (who wasn’t interested in girls but was curious). This may have been her first time kissing someone who could actually want her. So she kisses him deeply, arching her back, slotting herself into him. She opens her eyes and she can’t tell the color of the sky.

She isn’t exactly disappointed. The kiss was fine and Wells could have been something more. But she feels like there should be something more than this. More than just fine.

When she pulls way, she’s about to make some joke about color being less colorful than she’d expected when he gasps. He staggers a little, eyes widening and Clarke thinks, oh no. Oh no. She can’t see it. She can’t see color. But he can.

She’s heard of it happening before. She’s felt bad for those it happens to. She’s felt bad about it absently. The way, sometimes you do when you’re bored and there isn’t much else to do. But she didn’t expect this. She feels a kind of physical fist in her throat and it makes it hard for her to breathe.

He runs his fingers through her hair, and she stands so still, her heart is loud is in her own years.  “Your hair is bright, Clarke,” he says, breathless and Clarke hates herself for it. “It’s like the sun.”

She swallows. “I can’t—“

Wells is smart. She knows he knows but she can’t look directly at him. Her feet shuffle beneath her and she swallows. “Oh.” Wells deflates visibly and she wants to look away again. But she doesn’t. Can’t.  She places a hand at his chest, trying to reassure him as much as steady herself, and tries to ignore the way she feels his heart break. She did this.

“Wells,” she begins. She doesn’t know what to say to fix this. She wants so badly to see color. She wants so badly to know just how much darker he is than her. She wants to kiss him and see it. She wants to go back to a time when she hadn’t kissed him so he wouldn’t see it.

“Your hair really is pretty, Clarke. I hope one day you’ll see it.” He rests a hand on her shoulder and she can’t believe him, trying to comfort her when she clearly isn’t the one who needs it. But she doesn’t know what she can say to make him forget this. The colors are enough for him to remember. She tries to picture them, but she can’t wrap her head around it. She settles on the ground and waits for a second till he drops down next to her.

She nods numbly and looks out, into shifting colors of the sky. She can’t see them, of course. It’s black and white and a million shades of grey to her. She doesn’t know what Wells sees. But for the first time in her life, she doesn’t want to. They’ve never been more different in their lives.

Wells holds out his hand and Clarke takes it. She feels warm where his palm rests against hers. He might be able to tell what color her eyes are, but not much else has changed. She has to believe that. They sit like that for a while before the sun sets and she needs to get home for supper.

Nothing much does change.

They never speak of it again.

She meets Bellamy Blake when she turns twenty-three and needs a place to stay. Their apartment is big but she can hear him swear at at his computer when his essays take a toll on him.

Bellamy is stop and stare kind of pretty. He’s all freckles and curly hair and nice arms. His smirk is equal parts endearing and infuriating and he’s fucking smart. He’s a dick but a well-intentioned one and yeah, Clarke might have had a thing for him.

But there is a parade of girls coming out of his room, morning after morning and honestly, she’s surprised he hasn’t found his soulmate yet with all the different girls he’s probably kissed. Clarke’s crush on him was blinding, but short-lived.

She had mostly surrendered herself to being his friend. And he’s pretty great friend. So far, their friendship consisted of half-hearted insults, stupid amounts of arguing and lots of Netflix. She sometimes, catches herself thinking of kissing him. Just to see if anything would happen. She doubts it, though. Clarke and Bellamy couldn’t be any more different.

But Bellamy’s a friend and she’s grateful for him.

(She doesn’t wonder if he’s strong enough to lift her against the counter top. That’s just innapropriate.)

Clarke kisses six people since Wells and has fucked more than that. None of them change anything. They’re always nice. They’d always lead to more. She’s never wished to see color. The whole thing with Wells shook her enough to want to hold back on great romances and she doesn’t think much else of it.

Then, she meets Finn and she wants it so badly. Because Finn is pretty and Finn doesn’t believe in soulmates either. Finn believes in hard work in relationships and practicality. Neither of them see color but it’s okay. They don’t need it.

And then she meets Raven and she really, really fucking hates romance.

Once they’d both broken up with Finn, Clarke offers Raven a ride. Raven says yes. But she doesn’t have anywhere to go. Apparently, she’d came to surprise visit Finn for the holidays and planned to crash at his place. He was surprised and she had nowhere to crash.

So Clarke had offered up her room. She briefly wondered if this was going to end in disaster. She watched Raven stare out their window and settled in next to her. Raven glanced over and offered a weak smile. Practically non-existent. But she’s trying.

“Hey,” Clarke says.

Raven keeps staring out the window, but she shifts slightly closer. “Hey.”

“This is weird right?”

“The weirdest.”

Clarkes pauses before blurting, “You’re gorgeous.”

Raven looks up at her in surprise, eyes glinting in amusement. “Thanks, but you’re not my type.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Clarke considers her.  “That’s kind of what I mean. But, look, you’re gorgeous and you’re probably intelligent and you both see color and I feel like a fucking idiot.”

Raven tilts her head and stares at Clarke. She can’t help but shift a little. “Look, I’ve seen color for so long, I don’t even remember what it’s like to not. I don’t know what it is about color but I can see why he liked you.” She gestures vaguely at her. “You’re full of it.”

“Thanks,” Clarke says, a little taken back.

Raven sighs deeply. “Look, Clarke. I’m not exactly over the fucking moon that you fucked Finn, but you didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Finn’s family, Clarke. I see color because of him. He’s not going to leave my life just because he doesn’t love me the way I want to be loved.” She sounds like she’s reciting something, so Clarke nods.

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s a real dumbass for letting you go.”

“It does. Kind of. I deserve better, Clarke.”

“I’m sorry.” Because, she is.

“It’s not your fault my boyfriend—Ex-boyfriend— is a shitty asshole.”

“It’s not not my fault,” she remarks, petulant.

Raven’s smile is real this time. “It’s not not not your fault.”

“What?”

And then they’re laughing and Clarke feels like it’s a kind of expulsion. Like she was supposed to be laughing with Raven at this point of time. Like it was a kind of falling back together. Falling into place.

“What’s going on?” Clarke recognizes Bellamy’s mop of curls peeking through the doorframe before he enters the apartment.

“Finn cheated on me. Well, he cheated with me, actually. He cheated on her with me. So, naturally, she’s staying with me this week.”

Bellamy looks between both girls, curious, and Clarke is a little appreciative that he doesn’t offer condolences, like she knew anyone with social skills would. She’s glad he’s clueless.  She’s glad he’s him.

“Either of you want me to kick his ass?” he asks simply. He sounds casual but Clarke knows he would probably do it.

Raven makes a show of considering it.  “Nah, I would have done it myself if I wanted to.”

She might have gotten a better look of him as he settles down on the other end of the couch because Raven look him up and down, so unsubtle, even Clarke blushes. She can’t blame her. Clarke’s notices and for all of Bellamy’s cluelessness, he’s noticed too. “Clarke, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Raven; The beautiful human my asshole ex-boyfriend was actually dating. Bellamy; Just a general dick.”

Bellamy smirks at her and she smirks right back. They’re kind of perfect for each other. She ignores the lurch in her stomach at the thought.

Later, Bellamy’s washing the dishes and Raven’s head is resting on Clarke’s shoulders. She smells like cheap alcohol, but so does Clarke.

“Is he a good lay?” Raven asks.

“Who?”

“The general dick.”

“That sounds like a rank, or something.” Raven gives her an unimpressed look. Clarke thinks of saying that he isn’t. She really wants to and she doesn’t understand why.  She knows he’s probably great by the look of contentment every girl has coming out of his room. She doesn’t say that either. “I wouldn’t know.”

Raven looks at her, calculating. She didn’t know her new friend all that well, but she knew it couldn’t mean anything good. “Huh.”

The next day, Clarke sees Raven come out of Bellamy’s room and grips her mug a little harder than necessary.

“So, are you feeling better?” She asks, handing her another mug of coffee.  Because she actually does hope she’s feeling better. Raven’s great, she wouldn’t want anything less for her.

She takes the mug, grateful. “I’m getting there. Pretty boy helped.”

“You and Bellamy?” she asks, painfully bad at being nonchalant.

Raven smiles knowingly—which isn’t even fair. Clarke doesn’t even know. “He’s a good fuck but we’re just friends.”

“Huh,” she says absently. Raven raises an eyebrow and hums. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She likes Raven but she’s a little terrified of her.

It’s been over a month since Finn and Raven and Clarke are going strong. Clarke can’t help but feel a little grateful for Finn. He might have been a dick but Raven is kind of worth it.

Clarke invites Raven over for game night and they play a warped version of monopoly because they’re all too drunk for rules.

“Am I winning? I can’t tell,” Wells says, frowning at the board.

“No, I am,” Clarke says.

Bellamy makes an indignant noise. “That’s because you’re cheating.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Clarke shoots back.

Raven and Wells exchange a look she isn’t completely sure she likes. They’d been doing that a lot lately, what with Raven moving in next door to Wells. She thinks they might have a shot. She thinks neither of them is going to try anytime soon. She hopes they do. God knows they deserve it. She looks over at Bellamy. She’s one to talk.

“This game is fucking stupid, I’m getting more alcohol,” says Raven.

“I’m coming, too.” Wells gets up and leaves after her and the whole thing is so unsubtle, she wants to laugh.

“They’re trying to set us up,” Bellamy mutters, casual. She glances over at him. He’s chewing the inside of his lip and his eyes dart slightly. She wonders briefly which one of them Raven is doing the favour for. In the end, it doesn’t matter because Clarke just snorts and they get back to arguing over monopoly and capitalism.

It’s just the way she likes it.

Mostly.

“Why can’t I have casual sex?” Clarke asks, head resting against the back of Raven’s ratty couch. For an engineer, you’d think she could afford better.  Family Feud is on and Raven and Clarke drink every time Steve Harvey looks like he wants to go to church to be cleansed of his sins.

“Because you don’t believe in the soulmates bullshit but you’re also incapable of accepting anything less than true love and, to top it off, you’re terrified of commitment and just a mess in general.”

Clarke nods, serious. “Ah, that’s why.”

Someone says the word tiddies on national television and they both drink.

“Also, you’re in love with Bellamy.”

That gets her sputtering. “I am not.”

“Whatever you say,”

Clarke bristles. “I’m definitely not!”

“You can’t see it, but you’re red all over.”

“Raven,” she warns.

Raven shrugs. “I’m just saying. You were pretty jealous when you found out we had sex.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. And besides, that could also mean I’m in love with you,” she points out, a little too defensively.

“While I am most definitely the better choice, we both know that’s not true.”

“Fine, we’re both adults here. I’ll admit that he’s hot. But I’m not in love with him, or anything. Besides, he’s never serious about anyone.” She wants to feel a sense of victory, but it just gets her upset.

Raven lets out an incredulous laugh. “When was the last time you saw him with another girl?“ Clarke opens her mouth but she can’t actually remember. She thinks the last one might have Raven. She doesn’t know what to do with this information. "I can’t believe you’re this clueless.”

“Says the girl who doesn’t know she’s in love with her neighbor.” Raven stiffens and Clarke immediately wishes she hadn’t said it. She isn’t exactly the best person to bring this up especially since Raven knows who his soulmate is.

“He isn’t exactly my soulmate, is he?” She knows Raven didn’t it mean to be an insult but she flinches anyway.

“You’re not exactly soulmates with Finn either, are you?” Clarke probes, gentle. “Wells is family, Raven. But he feels something with you. Don’t you think you should take a chance on yourself?”

Raven relaxes and heaves a sigh too big for her body. “We’re a mess.”

Clarke grins. “Nothing that can’t be cleaned up.”

Someone says balls and they both drink.

Clarke finds Bellamy lying on the couch, reading and it takes all her self-control not to throw the book into the trash can next to them. She plops down beside him and he nods at her in greeting.

“We live together and I had to find out from your sister that it’s your birthday,” she seethes. Clarke is a little outraged and Bellamy looks sufficiently scared.

Bellamy sets him book down and sits up, grimacing. “I was hoping O wouldn’t call.”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you even know your sister? She calls to make sure you’re eating well.”

“But you do that on your own.”

“Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation of being a cold heartless bitch.”

Bellamy snorts. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t tell anyone it’s my birthday.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I don’t like to be reminded of life’s fragility and the inevitability of death?”

“Try again.”

“Because I don’t think it’s important.” Clarke is silent, so he goes on. “I mean, when I was a kid, my mom couldn’t afford it. And then she died, and I couldn’t afford it. It seems kind of pointless now, is all.”

Clarke thinks about nodding and leaving him alone. She thinks about respecting his wishes and being only a normal level of concerned for him. She thinks about it for a good few seconds.

“You know what? Your birthday is important to me. You’re fucking important to me.”

Bellamy blinks at her. “Okay.”

“Let me finish.”

“I didn’t stop y—“

“You’re this great guy. Look at you. You help people and you’re smart and you’re hilarious. Sometimes, I’m so glad you exist, I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know what I would do without you and I think it’s really important to know because I really feel like you have some self-esteem issues stemming from your terrible childhood—“ Bellamy moves so fast, she stops dead. His hands come around either side of his face grazes her lips with his. Clarke sees stars. He leans in a little and Clarke does the rest of the work. She kisses him like he’s air and she’s never breathed in her life. She feels hot all over and it’s kind of perfect. She doesn’t see color, she realizes, slightly disappointed and neither does he. He looks a little dazed, but he didn’t stagger back in shock like Wells had.

There are billions of people in the world; it wasn’t like she was expecting Bellamy Blake to be her soulmate. She can’t help but feel like he should have been. Still, when he kisses her again, she can’t bring herself to care. She never believed in soulmates anyway.

He’s kind of perfect for her anyway.

He pulls away, out of breath. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her fingers find the buttons of his shirt. “Don’t.” She presses a kiss against his jaw and feels him shiver. “No.” One at the hollow of his neck.  “Never.” One at the start of his chest.

“You’re a miracle, Clarke Griffin,” he mumbles against her head and her heart feels like it might explode. She can’t help but feel like all is right in the world when he slips off her blouse kisses her again.

She wakes up the next morning, caught in Bellamy Blake. He smells like himself. Like coffee and coconuts.  She’s smiling before she can open her eyes.

And then she does and she stops breathing.

It’s color. It’s orange bleeding into purple. That’s the sky, she thinks. It’s framed by green curtains and Bellamy’s chest is brown and the world is shifting into place. She remembers Wells saying that her hair is like the sun. It really is. And Bellamy hair is like the night sky. She thinks, unbidden, that color might exist just for him because he is so beautiful her chest hurts.

But he wakes up, blinking sleep from his eyes (brown; almost black), good morning spilling from his lips (painfully pink) and she realizes it. Her world had been inverted and his is the same.

She isn’t his soulmate.

She stumbles out of the bed, slipping on the blouse she had worn the night before (orange).

Bellamy looks up at her. “Where are you going?”

“Work thing,” she answers, hovering awkwardly at the door.

“It’s Sunday.”

“Church.”

Bellamy levels a look at her that makes her want to scream. “Clarke, we have to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Neither of us see color.” The lie slips out easily but it  fits so she lets it. She can’t let him know she sees color. She knows him. He’d feel obligated to stay with her. She’d only hold him back. She thinks of Wells and how he’d never let that happen. She steels herself and looks back. It’s so much harder now that she really sees him. It hurts so much worse.

A flash of hurt appears on his face and she wants to kick herself. “So? I thought you thought soulmates were bullshit in the first place. And we like each other—“

“For how long? My mom didn’t see color with my dad. Now, my dad’s dead and she sees color with Marcus.”

She realizes that it’s true. She hadn’t thought that the thing with her other bothered her before. Her parents were happy while they were together. But what if her dad hadn’t died? What if she found Marcus later? What then? If she stays with him, she’ll be waiting for the other shoe to drop her entire life. She’d live her whole life knowing that someone better would come along. She can’t do that.

His jaw tightens. “Fine.”

In the end, he storms out before she does and she starts crying right after.

Color blurs beautifully.

He comes back an hour later, looking considerably less miserable. She’s not a good enough person to feel happy about it.

“You’re right,” he says simply.

“I was?”

“I don’t want to hold you back, Clarke. I don’t want to be that guy when your real soulmate comes along.”

“Yeah.” Her voice feels weak and fragile; like she can’t actually speak.

“We can just pretend this never happened.”

“Yeah.” He holds her in his arms and she settles in. How can he not see color, when she fit this right in his arms?  “Okay. We’re fine.”

“We’re fine,” he echoes.

She hopes he can’t hear her heart breaking.

She paints again. It’s a mass of purple and pink and green. Swirls of colors she finds so familiar. She stares after she’s done. She doesn’t know what to feel but she thinks her heart is putting itself back together. She thinks this is the beginning of something else.

“This is beautiful,” Anya says. She blinks at her. Anya is her professor. She’s never said anything remotely nice about her work before. She wants to be pissed that seeing color had made her so much of a better artist. Nowadays, she’s just amused.

“Thanks.”

“Do you see color, Miss Griffin?”

“Yes,” she replies mechanically.

“Congratulations.”

She barely chokes back a laugh. “Thanks.”

Lexa is beautiful and terrifying and she doesn’t see color. She used to. But Costia died and now she doesn’t and she’s pretty angry about it.

Clarke is in her bed because she’s kissed her raw and still, only one of them sees color.

“Do you miss it?” she asks, playing with her brown curls, wishing they were darker.

“What?” she turns to face her, more out of obligation than anything.

“Color.” Lexa stiffens and sighs all at once.

She thinks of Bellamy again. How they don’t talk as much. How she wishes they did.

“Color is magnificent, you’d know,” she says. Clarke smiles. “But sometimes, I’m glad it’s gone. It all reminds me of her. She had brown eyes. Her favourite color was pink. I’m glad I don’t see them anymore. I miss Costia more than color.”

Clarke is silent for a while. She knows the natural line of conversation and where Lexa’s going to go. So she gets her off again.

But that only stalls her for a while.

“You have a soulmate, Clarke. I’ll give you some advice.” She shifts over completely to face her. Her eyes are startlingly green and she thinks of painting them but she ends up going back to brown, instead. She always does. “Go back to them. Thank them. Tell them that they make color better. Don’t wait. You don’t have time for that.”

Clarke nods and she wants to tell her how much she wants to. She wants to tell how much she can’t.

In the end, her mouth meets the inside of her thighs and Lexa moans too loud, anyway.

They break up and Clarke doesn’t feel much. At least now the way she feels when Bellamy pulls her into his arms or when he brings her coffee when she stays up. Clarke wishes she did. She wishes it so much, she feels the need solidifying itself into anger. She’s glad.

When Bellamy comes home, the bottle of wine is half-gone. She’s working on the second half when he pries it away gently from her hands. Too gently. It makes her chest hurt.

“Raven told me about Lexa.”

“She broke up with me,” she confirms. She wishes she sounds worse. But she doesn’t and Bellamy knows.

“And you didn’t think you could tell me any of this?” he asks, hurt.

“Bellamy, it’s nothing personal. I just thought it would be weird. Considering what happened—“

“Whatever happens, whatever’s between us, it doesn’t matter. I will always be here. I will always want to be here.”

Clarke nods and leans into him.  But she feels her heart at her throat and she hears blood roaring in her ears.

She falls asleep on his shoulder before she can do something like kiss him or tell him that his eyes are the color of chocolate and she loves him.

When she wakes up the next day, it’s in her own room and her hangover makes her head feel like lead. Clarke finds Bellamy staring at her painting and Clarke feels her heart speed up in her chest.

“You see color?”

“Bellamy—“ she begins.

He looks up at her and there’s this look on his face. Like he’s going to take over the world. “Your eyes are cerulean.”

Clarke blinks. “What?”

“I had to find the exact shade. At first, I thought it was teal. Then, I realized it was lighter. I think it’s cerulean but I’m still getting a hang of this color thing.”

“You see color.” She swallows so hard, it hurts her throat. “Who?” She asks, because she is, apparently, a masochist.

“When,” he says. “Ask me when.”

“When?”

“After I caught you sneaking away and I stormed out. I went to take a walk on this fucking—I didn’t know then— green-ass park and I sat down and blinked and there was color. Fucking everywhere. I nearly passed out. It was such an overload and all I could think of was you.” He sets the painting down and looks up at Clarke, who can’t seem to remember how words worked. “Anyway, I figured that you couldn’t see color and I didn’t want to hold you back. So technically, I didn’t lie.”

She stares at him. “What you’re saying is we’re regular run-off the mill soulmates?”

“For a blonde, you’re pretty smart.”

A laugh bubbles out of her. “Christ.”

“I know.” He grins at her and she feels herself mirroring it. He’s so beautiful when he smiles. He’s so beautiful. His hands find her waist and she falls into him. She can’t imagine anything else.

“We have the worst timing.”

“The worst,” he repeats.

“How’d you figure out I could see color?”

He smiles at her a little sheepish and she touches the edge of it, incredulous. This is hers. “I woke up at the crack of dawn one day and I see so much color. It kind of hurt, it was so beautiful. And the first thing I see is purple and yellow and it’s kind of bleeding together, right? And I think it looks pretty familiar.”

Her eyes widen. “The painting.”

“You painted the first colors you’d ever seen. At least, I was hoping.”

“That could have really backfired. It would have been totally embarrassing. ”

He laughs and she kisses him again. She wants his hands on her, everywhere. She’s breathless with the want. She’s so full of him, she can’t believe it took that long. She sees him flush and she’s glad she can see color, if only to see the pink travelling down his chest.

“I love you. I just realized that we keep tossing the word soulmate around but it’s pretty ridiculous we haven’t admitted to being in love with each other yet. Unless you’re not. Then we can pretend I never said anything in the first place.”

He presses his forehead against hers, and his smile is so fucking fond, it puts an end to her suffering. There’s no way he feels anything less. “No. I mean, I love you, too. Of course I love you.”

He kisses her again but he’s smiling too much and it gets kind of ridiculous.

Clarke kisses his cheek. “Are you sure? I’m a little bit broken.”

His fingers trail the edge of her arms and she shivers. “So am I.”

“I have all this baggage.”

“What a coincidence.”

“I’m kind of a dick.”

“You already know I am.”

“Just to be clear, we’re definitely doing it.”

“That’s no way to refer to my body.”

“Bellamy,” she starts.

“Kidding.” She smacks his shoulder, light and he laughs. “Even if I didn’t see color, Clarke, even then, I’d want everything with you. You’re kind of stuck with me.”

And maybe all she knows about soulmates is wrong. Because in the end, it wasn’t like stars exploding or planets aligning. It was inside jokes and familiarity. It was grins smothered in kisses. It was insults that weren’t really. It was hands around waists and foreheads pressed against each other. It was this.

It was coming home.

“It could have been worse.”

“So, you guys were soulmates from the get-go, but neither of you guys told the other?” Wells asks. It’s game night and Raven and Wells are holding hands under the table, playing monopoly wrong. They all see color and it’s kind of great.

Bellamy grins into his beer. “An over simplified version of the story, but fair.”

“What I’m hearing is you guys are the biggest pair of dumbasses on the face of the earth,” Raven supplies.

“Basically,” Clarke agrees.

“I mean Wells and I; We’re like star-crossed lover, always meant to be torn apart before meeting again. We are like the sand and the sea.”

“The sun and the moon,” offers Wells.

“Exactly. And you two fell in love with each other before finding out that you’re each other’s soulmate—I mean, you literally started seeing color— and it still took you forever to get together?”

Clarke shrugs, trying hard not to laugh. “Um? Yes.”

Raven leans back into the couch and actually cackles. “Hey, I’m  just glad you fuckwads got your head out of your asses and made out.”

“We do so much more than make out. We’re soulmates. It’s written in the stars that we are to be together.” Bellamy scowls the way he does, when he’s amused and Clarke plants a kiss on his cheek, just because she can.

“To be fair, we do make out a lot,” she chirps.

“Yeah, we do. We got nothing. Good talk.”

Raven and Wells are, once again, unsubtle as they leave, muttering some excuse Clarke and Bellamy were too amused to hear.

“We were pretty dumb, weren’t we?” Clarke asks.

“The dumbest.”

“But we’re not dumb anymore, right?”

Bellamy places a kiss at her jaw. “We are. But not about this.”

“I can live with that.”

“This is a forever thing, Griffin.”

The neon lights from outside light up his face and she sees it all at once. His fondness. His love. His beauty. He was so much all at once, she couldn’t breathe. But she does, because he’s there and everything easier with him.

She is so grateful for color.

“What the fuck?” Bellamy banged his head on one of the hangers and crashed into the mysterious person.

“Shhh! They’ll hear!” The voice – a woman’s voice – hissed back and a hand came up to try and close his mouth, but instead it almost knocked his glasses off his nose.

“Are you insane?”

He got an elbow in the ribs for the trouble and he had hard time keeping his anger in check. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t dislodged her hand from his biceps and gotten out of the wardrobe but it wasn’t like he had anything to do at the moment with Octavia missing and all, and well, he could never say no to satisfying his curiosity.

So he bit his scathing retort back and tried a different approach.

“Why are you hiding inside a closet?”

It was too dark to see her expression but there was enough light filtering through the cracks of the doors to see her duck her head down in embarrassment.

“I was looking for Narnia.”

“Seriously? This is what you’re going with? What are you, like ten?”

“Fuck off, I like Narnia.”

“If this is your way of telling me that you believe in talking lions maybe you’re crazier than I initially thought.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

Well, she had a point, Bellamy had to give her that.

“So?” he probed her again and felt her whole body sag against his.

“I saw my ex and I might have panicked a bit.”

“A bit?”

“Okay, maybe a lot.”

Bellamy snorted – that was the understatement of the century. She huffed and he could feel her hot breath on his neck and suddenly he was all too aware how close they were standing next to each other. He went to move back but knocked into the hangers again and she shushed him once more.

“Is your ex that scary?”

“No,” she muttered something else and he had to strain his ears to hear her, “but he’s here with my ex-girlfriend and I’m so not looking forward to that meeting.”

“Ouch. Tell me they haven’t bonded together over how awful of a girlfriend you are?”

She lifted her head to protest a bit too fast for Bellamy to predict and bumped his chin rather painfully.

“God,” Bellamy winced and rubbed his jaw, “you’re a walking human disaster.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” She sounded dejected and for a moment Bellamy felt awful – he hadn’t meant to bring her down despite her lacking people skills. (Who dragged people inside a wardrobe for fuck’s sake?)

He lifted his hand and placed it on her shoulder, accidentally grazing her boob on the way up. He coughed to hide the way his chest felt tight and the speeding of his heartbeat, and pretended not to notice the way she held her breath.

“Hey, it’s a nightmare out there. I’m pretty sure they’re long gone by now.”

“And if they’re not, what’re you going to do? Swoop in and save the day?”

Bellamy didn’t like her mocking, harsh tone and pushed her back against the side of the wardrobe, creating some space between them.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Besides, I thought with you being one of Aslan’s Chosen kids you would know how to throw a punch.”

Her laugh was a welcoming distraction and it did wonders to disperse the tension that had unwittingly creeped over them. Maybe it worked a bit too well because he was tempted to slide the door open so that he could see her smile up at him. She was witty and charming and a bit of an asshole and he really wanted to put a face to her voice.

“You’re secretly a giant nerd, aren’t you?” she teased and he tried not to smile in return.

“I plead the fifth.”

She straightened up and finally released her hold on his arm and it wasn’t until then that he felt how warm her hold actually was, and the cold that seeped back in its stead left him perplexed.

“I’ll let you have that one only because I’m sure I already have my answer. And uh,” he felt more than he saw her wave her hand around almost sheepishly, “sorry for the whole ‘pulling you into the wardrobe with me’ thing.”

“And here I thought this was your usual method of getting people alone in dark places.”

“I’m afraid it only works on the Narnia believers,” she replied cheekily.

Was she flirting?

“Lucky me then.”

Was he flirting back? (Octavia would never let him live this down.)

His hand had just found hers in the darkness, their sweaty fingers intertwining together, and she had placed her other one on his chest to balance on her toes as she leaned to kiss him when the closet door opened and the blinding light made them pull apart and shield their eyes.

The man that had interrupted them stood there gaping until he decided to turn around and pretend he hadn’t seen them at all.

Bellamy silently thanked him for his lack of comment and turned to face his mysterious kidnapper of sorts. Her blond wavy hair was pulled back in a loose braid and her striking blue eyes were giving him the same assessment he was giving her. She was shorter than him – he knew that – but her curves drew him in and he wanted to trace his hands along her hips. There was something in the set of her mouth that spoke of his demise, but oh, what sweet fall that would be.

Her soft ‘Huh.’ brought him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to look like…that.”

“Like what?”

She scowled and crossed her arms in front of her, drawing his attention to her chest. “It’s unfair that you’re hot and still getting my C.S. Lewis references.”

“You think I’m hot?” He wasn’t vain but coming from her it definitely boosted his ego; after all, she was beautiful, but most importantly funny and sarcastic and exactly what he could appreciate in a partner.

“And modest too.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, his ears taking on a pink hue.

Bellamy raked his hand through his shaggy hair and looked around. “The coast seems clear.”

“Actually,” she tugged an errant curl behind her ear and licked her lips nervously, “I think I still see them.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Taking a step closer, she let her shoulder bump against his. “I might need backup.”

“I left my armor at home.” Her mouth formed an ‘o’ and she smiled stiffly. “However, I’ve been told I take on the role of a fake boyfriend pretty well.”

She seemed pleasantly surprised. “Do tell.” He offered her his arm and she looped hers around. “I think I’ll need a practical demonstration before I can agree with that statement.”

“Of course…” he trailed off and looked at her questioningly.

“Clarke Griffin, pleased to meet you.”

“Bellamy Blake, the pleasure is all mine.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re going to milk this for all that it’s worth it, aren’t you?”

“You can bet your ass I will.”

“We just met and you’re already thinking about my ass.”

“To be fair, you’re the one who dragged me in a dark closet.”

“I apologized!”

“You should’ve kept your apology and kissed me better instead.”

Clarke froze and Bellamy cursed his big mouth; it was just a slip, he didn’t mean anything by it. While he did find her company enjoyable and she was definitely pretty, he didn’t plan on initiating anything unless she was fully on board with it, too.

Just as he was gearing up to apologize, she laughed and pulled him along with the crowd.

“You still haven’t impressed me enough to deserve a kiss, Blake.”

He swung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close enough to brush the shell of her ear with his lips.

“You’re so on, Griffin.”

(When Octavia called him two hours later, Bellamy ignored her call in favor of making Clarke fall apart under his mouth and tongue.

Raven grabbed his arm as he tried to leave, “Bellamy, she’s probably in some cave, huddled under animal pelts. The snow is so thick you can’t even see. What makes you think this is the best time to look for her.”

He shook her off and continued to the door, grabbing an extra coat as he walked, “I’ll be careful.”

“Bellamy!” she yelled but he was already out the door.

- - - - -

Raven was right, he couldn’t see a foot in front of his face, but Bellamy kept trudging on through the harsh snow.

He knew that Clarke was smart, smart enough to find a cave to hunker down in, and also smart enough to know she would need supplies for a few days, so he decided to check her favorite bunker first, even though they had already raided it of supplies for the camp.

After walking for a while his hands started to go numb, and he realized if he didn’t find her soon, he was going to have to hole up somewhere as well.

Bellamy reached the place the bunker would be, and encountered the problem of finding the door under 2 feet of snow. Or he would have encountered this, if not for a 4 foot square with 6 inches less snow on it than the area around it.

Bellamy shoveled with renewed determination; she was here, he knew it.

He opened the door and climbed down into the bunker. There were no lights or lit candles, so he pulled out his flashlight.

Sweeping the room, he saw an empty room, devoid of all life except for a sleeping form on the floor, covered in animal pelts and visually shivering.

Bellamy slowly approached the figure, hope filling his stomach along as anxiety.

The figure moved, rolled over to reveal a shivering and scared Clarke, almost unrecognizable. Her face was marred with cuts and bruises and her hair was red and matted, but Bellamy knew.

It was her. She was safe.

Clarke shook awake, startled to find a wide eyed Bellamy kneeling next to her.

“Bellamy, ” she breathed, shivering still. The bunker, while providing protection from the snow, was still freezing.

“Clarke,” He said back, holding himself back from engulfing her in a hug.

She shook her head, “ What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he replied, looking over her shaking form and starting to take his coat and outer pants off.

Clarke scrunched her eyebrows, “What are you doing?”

“You’re shivering,” he stated, matter of factly.

“So what, we’re going to share body heat?”

He started to climb under the furs, “That’s exactly what we are going to do.”

Clarke would object, but she was so cold and Bellamy felt so warm. Not to mention that she missed him, so, so much.

“I missed you,” she voiced her thoughts. “But you shouldn’t have came out in this weather.”

“I missed you too,” Bellamy breathed, holding her closer. “Does this mean you’ll come back with me tomorrow. Together?”

Clarke was about to dismiss him when she looked at his face. It was more hopeful than she had ever seen it and any thoughts of staying away fled from her mind. He needed her to come home as much as she needed it.