Chapter Text
“Octavia. Bellamy.” Aurora shouted upstairs. “Hurry up! We’ll be late for Church!” Clarke was lounging on Bellamy’s bed watching him do up (struggle to do up) a dark blue tie over a crisp white shirt. She chuckled as she crossed the room, placing her hands on his shoulders to turn him around and meeting his eyes as she slid his hands from around his neck, replacing them with hers as she deftly fixed the mess he’d created. He took a sharp intake of breath, he’d been more intimate with her before (God, he’d been so much more intimate with her before), but there was something so domesticated about it, this.
“What’re we going to do?” She asked him in a hushed tone. Aurora didn’t know she was over, and whilst Bellamy was sure she wouldn’t mind Clarke having stayed over, Clarke knows her own mother would have, and that would mean asking Aurora to keep a secret or else getting grounded until she hit 60. Knocking on the door pulled the two out of their staring contest as Bellamy’s eyes flickered over the direction of the doorframe instead. “One second,” He murmured, dropping a kiss to her forehead but the door was already opening and a small obnoxious voice making her way into the room.
“Bellamy are you nearly ready? Because mom says we have to leave now and oh. Hi, Clarke! Does mom know you’re here? She didn’t mention it…”
“No, because she doesn’t know!” Bellamy hissed at his younger sister. “And you’re not gonna tell her, are you, O?” His eyes were alight as they collided with Octavia’s.
“What are you gonna give me for it?” Octavia demanded, hand on her hip and lips pursed. Clarke laughed softly and Bellamy glanced at her for a second before looking back over at his little sister.
“Nothing, because if mom finds out that Clarke was here she won’t be able to come anymore and you don't want that anymore than I do.” He challenged. His sister’s eyes widened and Clarke cut in, elbowing her boyfriend out of the way.
“Octavia, I’m sorry you have to do this,” She looked at the younger girl sympathetically. She hated asking people to do things for her, especially lie. “I’ll buy you something next time I’m out in town.” She promised. “As a gift.” Great, she thought. First, staying out of the house, now bribing a little girl to lie to her mother. What’s next? Drink? Drugs? She almost laughed. What I wouldn’t do for this boy…
Octavia’s eyes rounded, because it was common knowledge in this house and out of it that Clarke came from money and any gift she would buy spontaneously would probably cost more than Bellamy could save up for for months on end.
“You don’t have to do that.” Bellamy said quietly, his eyes flickering over Clarke’s face.
“I want to.” She told him truthfully. “I want to do this for her - for us.” She added more quietly, but he heard and sent her a grin.
“Do we have a deal?” Clarke asked her seriously, holding out her hand to the younger girl, who looked at it.
“Exactly what type of present are we looking at here?” Octavia gave Clarke a toothy grin as Bellamy groaned behind her.
“A brilliant one. Now c’mon.” Clarke pleaded, Octavia laughed and gripped Clarke’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Thank you.” Clarke breathed, and she heard Bellamy let out a breath of relief behind her, too.
“No, thank you.” Octavia giggled, skipping out of the room. “Mom!! Mom!! Guess what!! Clarke promised to buy me a present.” Bellamy’s eyes snapped up to Clarke’s in horror, gesturing to the open door that his sister had just scrambled out of.
“Tell her I texted you or something.” Clarke said hurriedly. “Get your mom to leave!! I’ll wait five minutes after you then I’ll go, too.” Bellamy nodded and kissed Clarke once on the lips and once on the forehead.
“Okay, Princess. I’ll see you in Church.”
“I am so going to be late.” Clarke laughed and Bellamy rolled his eyes.
“You’ll be fine, babe. I’ll see you later.” And then he bounded out of the room, leaving Clarke to pretend that she didn’t get a shiver up her spine every time he so much as looked at her.
***
If anybody noticed that Clarke’s hair was a little ruffled as she’d stood in the choir stands and sang with the others, nobody noticed. Her navy blue and white dress was pristine as always, despite being hastily thrown on. (That’s the beauty of having a maid, Bellamy thought). Bellamy tried to listen to the sermon, he really did, but all he could focus on was the cupid’s bow of her upper lip and the curve of her nose, the delicacy of her side profile as she sat at the front of the church, head bowed ever so slightly in prayer.
He watched as her head dipped just a little lower when the Priest prayed for those who couldn’t be there with them. He watched as her cheeks and ears tinted the slightest shade of pink when her eyes met his and he smirked just a little. Standing there in the middle of the crowded church, in his Sunday best (which was nowhere near as good as hers), Bellamy felt for the first time that maybe everything could be okay.
Maybe they could outlast the storm.