#the-knightmare

Glancing around his surroundings once more, Bellamy made sure everything was in place for his plan. He had come to class early for a reason; Clarke was usually one of the early risers who made it to class early so Bellamy had to beat her here for everything to go according to plan. It was almost 7:30 and Bellamy had a horrible case of bedhead, but he was tired of waiting for Clarke to catch on. Bellamy had been dropping subtle hints towards Clarke all school year yet somehow, she still didn’t notice Bellamy’s change in his feelings for her. He was tempted to just blurt it out, but he doubted Clarke would appreciate a blunt confession then being kissed senseless. (That was Plan B.) Plan A was simplistic, yet hopefully effective. Glancing up, Bellamy made sure that the sprig of mistletoe he had bought was still firmly attached to the doorway. Its vibrant green leaves and bright red berries stood out plainly against the wooden door; there was no way Clarke would be able to miss it. He looked down at the watch on his wrist and saw that the time was now 7:30. Clarke would be there any minute. Bellamy saw a light-haired girl turn into the hall, a smile beginning to stretch across his face. Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

“Surprised to see me, Griffin?” he asked smugly, visibly grinning at the look of shock on her face.

Clarke quickly schooled her features into a grin and replied teasingly, “You got me, Blake. What’s with the new change in attitude? You’re actually trying to make it to class on time for once?”

“Hey, the only reason I’m late is because I live on the other side of campus, Princess,” he retorted, feigning offense.

Clarke wrinkled her nose adorably. “I’m not a Princess, Bell,” she pouted.

“Yes you are,” his gaze softened at the sight of her. How can someone be so adorable? he thought.

Clarke, blushing, averted Bellamy’s gaze and pushed a strand of her curly hair out of her face.

This was it. It was the perfect time to confess; the hallway was virtually deserted, Clarke was finally here, and God his heart hurt at the thought of losing her to someone else. One of Clarke’s previous boyfriends had been contacting Clarke lately, and with her mother being away at a medical conference for Christmas, Clarke was going to be all alone for Christmas. That’s what really drove him to finally confess. He took a deep, steadying breath and said, “Clarke I-”

“Bellamy! What’s up dude!” exclaimed a familiar voice. Bellamy didn’t notice Clarke’s face drop at them being interrupted.

Bellamy grimaced before throwing on a fake smile. He had forgotten that Monty was also an early riser. It’s not that he didn’t like Monty but did he really have to choose now to say hi?

Monty was now clearly visible, a bright smile stretched across his face. Monty held out his hand for a high five which Bellamy unwillingly gave.

“Hey Monty,” Clarke greeted him with a soft smile. She had always had a soft spot for Monty and his boyfriends, Jasper and Miller (Monty and Jasper were the only ones to call Miller Nathan.) “You’re still hosting the Christmas party this Friday, right?”

“Of course! Jas, Nate and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Consider it our gift for the holidays,” Monty said mischievously.

Brow arched, Bellamy asked, “Gift?”

“You heard me right. Without us, the party would be dead and you know it.”

Clarke chuckled while Bellamy still looked unconvinced.

“Suuure,” she drawled, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“Whatever you say, Monty,” Bellamy chimed in.

Monty drew back, feigning offense. “Rude! Just for that, you guys aren’t getting your real Christmas presents.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, “Okay Monty.” She stretched and brought her hand up to her mouth to cover her yawn, her sweater riding up and showing a sliver of her stomach in the process. Bellamy tried his hardest not to stare.

Clarke paused for a moment before fixing a mischievous grin at Monty and Bellamy.

“You guys,” she sing-songed, meanwhile, Bellamy had a twisted feeling in his gut. There was only one way she was going with this. Bellamy couldn’t find it in himself to withhold his groan of annoyance when Clarke announced, “It’s a mistletoe. That means you two have to kiss.”

Monty arched a brow. “But you’re under it too. That means you have to kiss the both of us.”

Clarke shook her head happily, “Nope,” she said popping the p. “It doesn’t work like that Monty.”

If I back out now I can still leave with my dignity.

“And,” her gaze turned to Bellamy, her face adorned with an absolutely wicked grin, “don’t think I won’t tell anyone about you two being chickens if you don’t.”

Well damn.

Bellamy grumbled in distaste before bringing up his head to cup the back of Monty’s head.

The kiss, more of a peck really, wasn’t unpleasant. Monty’s lips were slightly chapped from the frigid morning air as they brushed against Bellamy’s own. Bellamy could taste hints of mint and something sweet, probably chocolate. The kiss was over as quickly as it began, with the both of them looking slightly disheveled. Meanwhile, Clarke was laughing her head off, her phone in her hand, having recorded the entire kiss.

“Perfect,” she grinned, “just perfect.”

As if on cue, their psychology professor had finally arrived and unlocked the door for Clarke, Bellamy, and Monty.

“See you in class boys,” Clarke winked before entering the class.

Monty blinked. “I will never understand girls,” he said thoughtfully. Unfortunately for Bellamy, it wasn’t socially acceptable for one to bang their head against a wall repeatedly in frustration.

It took a week for Bellamy to put his plan in motion again. Winter finals were coming up and Clarke had locked herself in “Study Mode” for the past week, blowing off all of her friends. Bellamy resorted to threatening, bargaining, and even begging in order for Clarke to finally leave the confines of her dorm room. The only reason Clarke had bothered to leave was Bellamy’s promise of coffee and color-coded notes for their shared Political Science class. Clarke’s roommate and Bellamy’s sister, Octavia, had thanked him for finally getting Clarke out of the house.

“Thank God,” she had grumbled even though her eyes glanced worriedly in the direction of Clarke’s bedroom. “She’s been holed up in there for ages.”

The coffee shop Bellamy had chosen was one frequently occupied by those at Ark University. The coffee shop was called The Grounds, sort of a coffee shop/bookstore hybrid. The coffee there was amazingly cheap enough to fit a college student’s budget and it didn’t taste that bad either. Near every table were a few outlets for those who would bring their laptops and the like with them. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books old and new. On Friday and Saturday nights they had up and coming bands fill the shop with music and laughter. As soon as Bellamy stepped through the door, he was hit with the scent of parchment and roasted coffee beans that filled him with warmth and comfort.

“Bellamy! Over here!” Clarke exclaimed, signaling him over to her table. Today she had decided to don a beanie over her flaxen curls. Bellamy felt a funny, warm feeling start in his chest and flood his whole body at the sight of her. When he had finally reached Clarke, she pulled him into a hug. Bellamy sighed in content and wrapped his arms tight around her in return.

“It’s good to see you, loser,” he murmured, his face buried into her neck.

She pulled away, although her arms were still wrapped around Bellamy’s neck.“You too, nerd.”

“Speaking of nerds,” he stated matter of factly, “I believe I owe someone Poli Sci notes.”

A bright smile lit up Clarke’s entire face, her eyes glittering with happiness. Bellamy didn’t know that it was possible to love someone so completely.

“Thank you,” she responded as he placed the notes in her hand. They both finally took their seats and fell into a comfortable silence as Clarke briefly shuffled through the notes.

“Once again, thanks a lot, Bell,” she repeated as she reorganized them, “You have no idea how much these will help me out on the final.”

“Oh God don’t even mention that word around me. I think I’ll die if I hear it again,” he complained.

“Hmm. Fin-”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“Clarke,” he gave her an exasperated look, “I know you.”

“No, you don’t.  I don’t even know me. Where is this place? Who are you?”

Bellamy, sighing with frustration and amusement, was now having the unfortunate experience of dealing with “fun” Clarke.

“Clarke, no.”

“Clarke, yes.”

“Is she trying to be fun Clarke again?” asked an annoyingly familiar voice.

“Raven!” Clarke pouted. “I am fun.”

The olive-skinned female gave a rather unladylike snort. “In your dreams, Goldilocks.”

“Hey, Raven,” Bellamy greeted her offhandedly. It’s not that he didn’t like Raven. As a matter of fact, she was one of the truest, funniest people he had ever met. It just seemed like their friends had an increasingly annoying habit of popping up whenever he wanted alone time with Clarke.

“Hey Thing 1,” she said, using her normal nickname for Bellamy.

He waited for-

“Where’s Thing 2?”

There it was.

“Octavia is out with Lincoln,” he gritted out.

“Chill Bell, you know I didn’t mean anything by it,” Raven said, putting her hands up in mock surrender.

Well, there went his afternoon with Clarke. The only thing that could make this worse was-

No. Oh no. Hanging right above their table like the little shit it was, was a sprig of mistletoe right between him and Raven.

“No fucking way,” Bellamy said, mouth agape with incredulity.

“What?” Raven and Clarke said simultaneously. They both looked in the direction at which Bellamy was currently glaring daggers.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Raven incredulously uttered, “it’s a mistletoe.”

Clarke looked slightly miffed. “It looks like you two have to kiss now,” she said flatly. Bellamy almost screamed. How can this be happening again? Did the fates just suddenly decide to make Bellamy’s life more miserable than it already was? Really, they were outdoing themselves now. He was going to kiss Raven, as in Clarke’s best friend, in front of her.

Way to go Blake. It didn’t occur to Bellamy until his hands were cupping Raven’s face and Clarke had fled the table with a muttered “I’ll see you guys later,” did he realize that he didn’t have to kiss Raven.

This time around, it was Bellamy avoiding Clarke. Ever since his kiss with Raven, Bellamy had been too ashamed to look either of them in the face again. He decided that spending his time wallowing around his dorm, eating Ben & Jerry’s was better than having to face the wrath of a 5’5 blonde haired warrior named Clarke. That is until Wells, his roommate and best friend since middle school decided to drag him to the Christmas party that their group had been planning. Bellamy had practically begged Wells to let him stay at home, but Wells had that charismatic air around him that just made you want to listen to him. Bellamy hated when Wells used it against him.

Although when they had to arrive, he had to admit, it did look pretty fun. The party was held at Monty, Miller, and Jasper’s place and the three boys had gone all out. Their front lawn was dotted with snowmen sporting some of the boy’s clothes; Bellamy could even see one with Jasper’s signature goggles. Fairy lights were strung along the rim of the roof and porch, creating a colorful glow surrounding the doorway.

Inside the house, the boys had a fake fire going seeing as they didn’t have an actual fireplace. It still felt cozy and warm to the point where Bellamy opted to rid himself of his coat and hat. Everyone was spread out around the house; Miller and Jasper were having a contest to see who could chug Monty’s “special” eggnog the fastest without throwing up. Octavia and Raven were having a hilarious Just Dance tournament which was kind of pointless seeing as they would collapse into giggles at each other’s dance moves every five seconds. Clarke, fortunately (unfortunately?), was nowhere to be found.

And that’s why Bellamy, after drinking four cups of Monty’s “special” eggnog, started pouring out his heart to Wells, who was as equally wasted as him.

“I just don’t get how I could screw up so badly,” Bellamy said, his words slightly slurred.

“I do,” Wells quipped, his mind just as sharp as when he was sober.

Bellamy narrowed his eyes. “You know you’re no help right?”

“Ahh but I can be of help, Blake. Instead of coming up with some convoluted plot, you should have just told her how you feel from the get-go,” Wells said sagely.

“Hmm, why didn’t I think of that before?”

“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated, Blake.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t think of a good comeback, Jaha.”

Bellamy, sighing, dragged a hand down his face, trying to sober himself up.

“I guess you’re right. I should call her,” he said, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

Wells snatched the phone from Bellamy’s hands before he could dial Clarke’s number.

“No, you shouldn’t. Not in this state,” he said surprisingly seriously for a man with a Santa hat askew on his head.

Bellamy heeded Wells’ advice and decided to wait until he was sober to tell Clarke how he really felt. Besides, she didn’t deserve a pathetic, drunken confession.

The next morning Bellamy’s head was pounding and his mouth was dry and what was that taste in his mouth? Somehow he had made it home, for he was in his room tangled in his blankets. Bellamy vaguely remembered stumbling up the steps of the entrance hall of his dorm hall and fumbling with his keys before falling into bed. Well, he looked down at his body, that would explain why I’m still clothed. Bellamy gingerly crept out of bed and made his way to the kitchen. He needed coffee. Now. Bellamy was on autopilot while brewing the coffee when he heard a loud knock against the door to their dorm.  Bellamy groaned and set down his coffee mug, and trudged over to the door. Who would need something this early in the morning? Once more a knock sounded off at the door, louder and more rapidly than before.

“Alright, alright! I'm coming,” he groaned.

“What do you want?” Bellamy griped, yanking the door open, and froze in shock.

Clarke stood in the doorway, her blue eyes bright with fury.

“How dare you,” she spat poking him hard in his chest.

“Clarke, what are you doing here? I haven't even done anything,” Bellamy said, stumbling over his words.

“I can't believe how dense you are!” She hissed. “I'm in love with you, you idiot.”

Bellamy’s head reeled. Clarke was in love with him? Bellamy opened his mouth to reply, but Clarke wasn’t done.

“I pined over you for ages yet you still didn’t notice.  I thought I actually had a chance and then you went and kissed Monty and Raven and not me-” she ranted, now pacing around Bellamy’s living room.

“Wait. You told me to kiss Monty!”

“I didn’t think you would actually do it!”

“But-”

“I was joking Bellamy! I was trying to be fun for once in my life,” Clarke’s eyes shined with tears.

Bellamy’s voice went low. “Clarke,” he breathed.

“Wells told me everything, Bellamy,” she said.

“And?”

“God, why did you take so long?” she demanded before wrapping her arms around Bellamy’s neck to bring him down for a kiss.

This is so cheesy, he thought. But damn was he fine with it. Clarke’s arms were wrapped around his neck, his hands coming up to circle her waist, bringing her body closer to his. He pushed a stray blonde curl away from her face, stroking her cheek in the process. Her lips were chapped from the cold of winter, yet she tasted like warmth--cinnamon and nutmeg blending together, reminding Bellamy of home. Slowly they pulled away, not wanting to let go of each other, but their need for air won out.

“That was-” Bellamy said huskily,

“Wonderful. Now can you two go make out somewhere else? Preferably not in the living room?” asked a disgruntled Wells leaning against the island of his and Bellamy’s kitchen.