Chapter Text
“Hey Clarke! How are you?” Octavia sounded strangely guarded.
“Fine. You?”
“Fine, fine. Um, I’m just calling about… I’m just calling to…” Clarke let her hang, trusting that she’d get there in the end. “Oh my lord I hate talking on the phone. Okay, I’m calling to say…”
Again, Clarke waited.
“That – that – That I screwed up, Clarke.”
“What do you mean?” Clarke asked, keeping her tone overly neutral. She suddenly felt that strange magnetic feeling again, as though she was being held to the phone by some greater power. Somehow, she knew that what ever Octavia had to say would change her life irrevocably.
“I should never had lied to the two of you, encouraged you to lie to each other.”
“What exactly are you talking about?” The words seemed bland enough, but they were dripping with a fiery anger being held back just below the surface. Clarke was realising that although Octavia meant well, she didn’t always come out looking overly rosy.
“I, um, lied about one of Bellamy’s friends having your name as their soul mate.”
“Why, exactly, did you do that?”
“I told you to lie because Clarke Griffin is thenameofBellamy’ssoulmate.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re Bellamy’s soul mate, Clarke.” Immediately Clarke wanted to strangle Octavia, cry and leap for joy, all at once. However, all she could bring herself to say was:
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Look I’m sorry, I just wanted you guys to really fall in love because I knew that you really would be perfect for him but I know he would have run for the hills if you hadn’t given him time. And it worked! He didn’t.” Clarke lost the urge to leap about and cry in favour of the urge to kill Octavia. Violently. There was no excuse in Clarke’s mind for what Octavia had done. She had, essentially, exiled Clarke to misery over the fact that Bellamy clearly thought that he’d found his real soul mate, leaving her in the dust. Not to mention that if they’d know it was meant to be permanent, they might have moved in together, maybe…. Maybe they would have planned for the future; believed in one.
But because of Octavia, they hadn’t.
And the worst part was that part of her knew that what she said was true. Bellamy hadn’t been in a good place for a long term relationship when they’d first started dating, and frankly, she hadn’t been ready for one either. If she’d known… would she have even believed Octavia, or Bellamy? Would she have still gone out with him? Knowing that, admitting it to herself, as she stood there holding onto the phone, her face red and flustered, simply served to make her angrier.
“Maybe that wasn’t for you to decide, Octavia.” So many maybes.
“I know. I’m sorry, Clarke. I shouldn’t have… I know that. But I’ve screwed up your lives, and you deserve to know everything.”
“Thank you, I suppose.” Clarke said stiffly. She was so angry… and yet she still thought of Octavia as a friend. The raging would come later, she realised. When Wells called next, or when Raven appeared at her doorstep – but for now all that anger was stuck in her gut, making her feel sick, but she couldn’t lash out. Not yet.
“Um, yeah. Oh, Clarke… I’m sorry…” Clarke knew that Octavia was looking for something from her, some indication that it was all going to be okay. But she couldn’t bring herself to give her one.
“Okay, I should probably go. Sorry, Clarke.”
“Bye, Octavia.”
The phone beeped, but Clarke didn’t move it away from her ear. She stood there listening to the static until her arm felt like it was going to fall off, and then she stood there some more. It wasn’t until her arm dropped away out of pure exhaustion that she started to cry softly.
She cried herself out, and then made dinner. She cried as she ate, the salt of her tears making her pasta taste like heart break. She sat at the dinner table, alone, thinking of all the what-ifs and maybes and the hurt of betrayal, because she hadn’t been able to make her own choice; which was all she’d wanted out of this whole stupid mistake. All Clarke’d ever wanted, all she’d wanted since Finn Collin’s long-distance girlfriend had transferred to her high school, not telling him so it would be a surprise, only to have Clarke, asked to show her around, introduce her to Finn with a kiss… ever since that moment, when Clarke’s belief in fate and love and ‘romance’ had been shattered by a boy who couldn’t keep it in his stupid pants, all she’d wanted was to choose.
When the time, she’d wanted to choose. That had been what she thought she was doing when she agreed to go out with Bellamy in the first place. It hadn’t been why she’d stayed… but it had been why she started, and Octavia had taken that away from her in one short phone call.
Octavia had stolen her choice from her, and she didn’t know if she could forgive her.
Because that was what it came down to, she realised as she did her dishes like a robot, out of tears. If she could bring herself to forgive Octavia, and in a way, herself, all she would need to do would be call Bellamy, explain, and she had no doubt he’d be relieved to find out that it had all been a mistake.
She’d already forced herself to forgive Bellamy (Or at least, that was what she'd been telling herself) – she gained nothing from antagonising over his mistakes, from hating him for them. So over the last month she’d forgiven him. Of course, they’d still have some serious issues, should she call, but she was confident that a little bit of therapy would help them sort it out, and that it would be worth it.
But she knew that she could ask a lot of him… but she could not ask him to choose between his soul mate and his sister. Such a choice would be impossible, and would break him, no matter who he chose. And somehow, she didn’t think that therapy could sort that out; some things were unforgivable. That was undoubtedly one of them.
So she would have to decide, for herself. Could she forgive Octavia for essentially exposing one of her greatest insecurities, and for taking away what she’d been sure for something close to a fifth of her life would be the cure? All for a man who’d left her for the possibility of a better option. (Maybe she hadn’t quite forgiven Bellamy, after all.) Suddenly, it was all too much again, and she collapsed beside the sink, heaving ugly, dry, sobs, unsure even why everything hurt this much.
-------
Bellamy lived his life like an empty man.
He missed Clarke. His Clarke, the one with the eyes like fire, the one who tasted like home.
He missed her. And he was so conflicted because if he didn’t know better… He’d think that they were soul mates – he’d call her in an instant. But he knew better. He couldn’t, because she had the wrong last name, and he knew now. He knew that he would never choose her over the opportunity at a fairy-tale. It sickened him, to his core, but he was curious. Curious to find out how something could possibly be better than what he had with Clarke. And, quite frankly, he was finding it hard, letting go of a lifetime’s worth of promises that he would get that fairy-tale.
If he could just trust himself enough; trust himself that he wouldn’t hurt her again…
But he couldn’t.
So he lived his life like something integral to his soul was dead.
And he didn’t call her, as much as he wanted to.
-------
“Raven? Wells?”
Clarke had waited a week, in the end, before she’d told either of them what she’d found out. And after waiting so long, she just wanted to say it once. She didn’t want to have to re-live the agony of telling them.
Ever.
So she’d waited until Raven was around and then she’d called Wells (Video, of course, just like always) and then she’d told them. And now they were sitting there, neither of them saying anything.
Until, finally, Wells asked, “Does Bellamy know? Like has Octavia told him too?”
“I don’t know.” Clarke admitted.
“Because if she has…” Raven said, sympathy filling her eyes.
“It changes the game somewhat.” Wells agreed. And Clarke saw why. If Octavia had just told her, then that meant that Bellamy essentially thought that he’d wrecked everything, but that the relationship was meant to end. He might still be interested in trying to figure it out. But if he knew, and he hadn’t called… it meant that he didn’t want her, no matter what. That he wasn’t interested.
“What should I do?” She asked, her eyes welling slightly.
Raven cocked her head to one side, the way she so often did when she was trying to figure something out.
“I don’t think you should have to do anything.” She said, slowly. “It’s not fair.” She looked angry on Clarke’s behalf, and Clarke loved her for it. “Look, if it was me… I’d probably… quite frankly I think I’d kill Bellamy.”
She smiled weakly after that, in a way that said ‘that was only a half-joke’ and Clarke laughed haltingly. But Wells was looking at Raven like she was a genius. “Hey, guys, you know what? I think Raven’s right. Clarke shouldn’t have to do anything. All she’d be doing would be putting herself out to be hurt again, and she’s done nothing wrong. The Blake siblings… Well, they’re not looking overly fabulous right now, are they? All we need to do is figure out how to make that work so that the Blakes have to atone a little.”
They sat in silence for a while, until an idea began to occur to Clarke.
“Okay, so, assuming that everything thing works out and Bellamy get back together, we can’t let it be over a massive land-mine of ‘what-ifs’, right? Especially for me… because, I mean, Bellamy’s already found out what ‘what if’ is like, right? Okay, I’m rambling, but, I think what I’m trying to say is… I have to know. I have to know that Bellamy wants me, just as much as I want him, if not more. I can’t put myself out there again. And that’s what you were saying, right, Wells? And what you were saying about the Blakes… I just feel like maybe… Maybe Octavia should tell him. Or tell me she’s told him. Either one.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Raven nodded as she spoke, clearly agreeing with Clarke.
“Okay, do you want to call her now, or later?” Wells asked.
“Now.” She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m gonna call her now. But… uh…”
“Yeah, yeah. Call me back the second you get off the phone, yeah?”
“Yep.”
“Alright then, good luck lovely.” Wells smiled encouragingly, and then he hung up. Clarke found herself staring at the phone, still propped up against the small vase she’d painted, unable to move. Yet she felt that same tingling sensation she’d felt that night at the bar, just before she’d met Bellamy, like the phone suddenly had its own gravitational pull and she was falling hopelessly towards it. She watched as her hand moved of it’s own accord, pulled by that force, until her fingers brushed lightly against the glass. It was only then that she came out of her trace and forced herself to grip it, hands suddenly numb.
Before she had time to rethink, she had pressed the little call button and the phone was next to her ear and it was ringing and Octavia was picking up and Clarke was panicking. Definitely panicking. Clearly, Raven sensed this, because her hand was on Clarke’s shoulder almost as soon as Clarke knew that she was freaking out. Raven’s presence steadied her, allowed her to not throw the phone away when Octavia spoke.
“Clarke?” Her voice was hopeful, but clearly she had no idea how forgiven she was. Clarke had to admit that she couldn’t blame her for that – neither did she.
“Yeah, Octavia, hi.” She could almost imagine Octavia baulking at not being called O. Part of her wanted to call her by her nickname, but it still felt wrong, like it would be a lie.
“Hi.” There was a pause. Clarke had no idea what to say next, and Octavia clearly didn’t either. “You haven’t called Bellamy yet.”
“No.” Clarke said simply, because Octavia had only been stating a fact, and so was she.
Another pause, uncomfortable. Raven began to pat Clarke’s back the way her father used to when she was little and couldn’t sleep. The rhythm of it was still strangely comforting after all those years.
“Look, Octavia, that actually kind of why I rang.”
“Yeah?”
“Okay, so basically… Basically I can’t call him.” Clarke took a deep breath.
“Oh.”
“But I need to know… have you told him? What you told me? Because he hasn’t rung, and that’s why I can’t call. Because if he knows, he needs to tell me – because, frankly, it is his fault that we’re not together at the moment.”
“I haven’t told him.”
“Oh.” It was the most hopeful ‘oh’ that Clarke had ever made in her life.
“Hey, Clarke?”
“Yeah?”
“If he were to call, what would you say?”
“I think I’d tell him that I missed him.”
“Oh!” Now it was Octavia’s turn to sound impossibly hopeful.
“Why didn’t you tell him, Octavia?” Clarke asked, suddenly so tired of all this game playing.
“Because I thought… I guess I thought after everything I’d done to you, after I’d screwed everything up… I guess I thought you’d want to choose. And I know that it is certainly your turn to choose… since… Since, well, I’ve been choosing for you.”
More silence.
“Octavia?”
“Yeah?”
“You did, you know. Screw it all up.” Clarke heard Octavia breath out a soft little sigh, but it was the sigh of the wounded, not of the exasperated. But Clarke wasn’t done, because it was true what she told Octavia. She missed Bellamy, sure, but she missed the others too. She missed Jasper and Monty and Miller and god help her sometimes she missed Murphy and, she missed Octavia, too. And something about the way Raven was patting her back helped her feel optimistic, feel like she could forgive and love and be okay again. “But… Octavia, I think… I think it’ll be okay. I’ll forgive you, I know I will. Maybe not quite today, but it’ll happen, yeah? Just give me time.”
“Thank you.” And there was so much love imbued in those two words that Clarke wondered how on earth she’d ever thought that she might not be able to.
“Tell Bellamy, and he can decide. I think it’s time he took proper ownership of what the hell it is that he wants… And Octavia? Never, ever, with hold information from me again, unless I look really ugly in something I’ve already bought, in which case I don’t want to know.”
Raven snorted next to her, and Octavia laughed.
“Talk to you soon, Clarke. And I really am sorry.”
“I know. Chat soon.” And just like that the line was dead and Clarke simply laughed because she felt strangely free, as though the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. Because everything she’d said had been entirely true. She would forgive Octavia; she could already feel it beginning. Bellamy would call, or he wouldn’t. And if he did then she would be honest. They’d go to therapy. End up happy. And if he didn’t, Clarke had already begun remembering how to be whole without him. It had finally occurred to Clarke, just as she stood on the threshold of getting Bellamy back, that she wanted him – she didn’t need him. Just like that, like magic, it felt like the anger left her, even though she knew it hadn’t really, and she laughed.
Raven simply raised an eyebrow, took the phone and called Wells, saying, “I need help with this one.”
Clarke had finished laughing, but she was still smiling at the freedom of it.
-------
Bellamy was reading when the phone rang. Not any of those self-love/self-help he’d borrowed from the college library with the body language of a bank robber. He was well and truly done with them – they all felt preachy, and he didn’t need preachy (He knew full well he’d screwed the fuck up). So he was reading about Emperor Augustus and ancient Rome to make him feel better.
It wasn’t really working.
But when the phone rang he groaned anyways. He didn’t want to have to talk to any of his friends, all of whom were pushing heavily for him to grovel to Clarke until she agreed to take him back.
“She’s good for you, dude.” Monty had said simply.
“Bellamy… Well… come on! You can’t let pride be an issue.” Miller had said, and Bellamy had wanted so badly to just say,
“Its not my pride that’s the issue” But he didn’t. Because that would mean explaining what the hell was, and that was almost too much to bear. It sucked having to even know for himself that he didn’t deserve her, that she could do so much better than the guy who screwed her over so badly. But to say it out loud?
No way in hell. He really didn’t need his friends psycho-analysing that. Sometimes they were like his own person fleet of self help books. Damn, he hated those things.
And then Murphy, who’d just say “You’re being a dick over this.” And he’d be right, and sometimes Bellamy hated Murphy.
Of course, worst of all would be Octavia, who’d spend half an hour alluding to how great he and Clarke were together. And Bellamy knew that that was just how she was, that she was doing her best to look out for him, but sometimes he wished she wouldn’t.
So when it was Octavia’s name on the screen he groaned once more before he picked up.
“O?”
“Look, Bell… I’ve screwed up. Can I come over?”
“Of course! Are you okay?” Bellamy was already standing, striding towards his coat.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” As Octavia spoke, he heard a knock on the door.
“You sure?” He asked, now heading back for the door. When he opened it, there was Octavia, looking vaguely ill.
“Yep.” She said, with a watery smile. They both hung up their respective phones. “I wanted to call you last night but… I knew you were grading and you’re always so much more stressed when you’re grading and I really need to tell you this in person and I’m so so sorry.”
She swayed slightly and Bellamy clasped her arm.
“Come in, O, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Within three minutes Bellamy was making coffee and Octavia was sitting, and Bellamy knew why she looked sick.
She was guilty. Horribly so, and had probably been carrying whatever this was around for weeks.
“What did you do, O?” He asked, and she started. Yes, she was impossibly guilty and whatever it was that she’d down it’d been eating at her for a while. “It won’t get better until you tell me the truth. But you know that already?” He made it a question, but other siblings knew that Octavia would tell him everything.
“I asked Clarke to lie to you.” She took a deep breath. “Her real name isn’t Clarke Smith. I asked her to lie to you because I thought that if she told you the truth you’d run like hell. I wasn’t sure that you were ready, and I know that it was wrong, but… Look, Bell, I screwed up.”
“That wasn’t your decision, Octavia, and you know that. Whether or not I was ready for a relationship with my soul mate was up to me. And Clarke. And you took away our right to chose.” Somewhere he was furious, but mostly he just felt numb. He’d made the stupidest mistake of his life on the promise of a soul mate when he’d been dating her for a year.
And of course, there was the part of him that was Octavia’s parent in a way that his Mum had never been, the part that wanted to hug her and tell her that everything would be okay, that everything broken was fixable. But he also didn’t want to lie to her and he wasn’t sure that this was.
“I know, Bell. I know…” She wasn’t crying, but he could imagine she wanted to. He was grateful that she wasn’t though. That would make everything so much worse.
“Look, O, I still love you, I’ll always love you, but right now I’m actually kind of mad at you and I think you should probably go. I’ll call when I’m ready.” His voice came out dead and toneless.
Octavia nodded once. And then she nodded again. “Thanks for the coffee Bell. And I love you too.” She said with a small, very fake, smile. And then she left.
Bellamy sat down in her chair, and he cried like a child does – all noise and heaving sobs, the kind of crying that would have been attention seeking if there’d been anyone near by to hear. He cried himself out – cried because he felt betrayed, and he cried because he felt as though he had no hope. It wasn’t until after he’d finished crying because he had nothing else to cry with that he saw how freeing that could be. He was free of everything because he’d forgive Octavia eventually, so there was no pressure to do that, and he was free because if he had no hope with Clarke at all, he lost nothing from calling her. In fact, he was promised to gain from getting to hear her speak and know consciously what he was beginning to suspect he might have been aware of all along – Clarke was his soul mate, and he was in love with her. And he wanted that for himself, even if he also knew that it was undoubted selfish.
Even if he knew that she’d be right to reject him.
So he waited until he trusted himself to speak, and he picked up the phone.
-------
“Oh my god, Raven, RAVEN!” Clarke screamed, and Raven started running from the kitchen to the living room, where they’d agreed to spend the day reading quietly. Of course, the two rooms were barely two steps apart, so it barely took a breath.
“What? Are you okay?”
“Uh huh. Raven… Raven, it’s Bellamy.” Clarke was staring at the phone, unable to tear her eyes away from it, softly vibrating with Bellamy’s name on the front.
“Pick it up then, dummy!” Raven cried, but she sat down supportively next to Clarke.
Clarke picked up, holding the phone to her ear like it was a bomb getting ready to explode.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hi Clarke, it’s me. Um, it’s Bellamy.” He sounded nervous.
“Hi.” Clarke couldn’t help but sound a little unsure and cagey. But hearing his voice felt like a balm.
“Uh, hi. Um, look Clarke; I know how this must look, me calling you out of the blue when we haven’t talked for a month after everything I did… But I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” Clarke blinked, surprised. She supposed she’d expected this conversation to drift directly to ‘Well it turns out we’re soul mates and I think that means we should try again.’ But it hadn’t. Bellamy had taken the time to first apologise, and she was grateful for it.
“Oh.”
“Yeah… I screwed up, Clarke, and there hasn’t been a second since that I haven’t regretted it, leaving you, hurting you. And I’m truly sorry, and I know there’s nothing I can do now to fix it.”
“No, there’s not really.” Clarke said softly, because it was true.
The conversation hung there for a while, dead. Clarke wasn’t going to scramble to make this better for him, because that wasn’t her job, and he either didn’t know what to say or didn’t have anything more to say.
“Clarke…” He said it like the beginnings of a prayer, the way some people say ‘home’. “I miss you. And I know I screwed up, but I want to give it another go. And I won’t lie to you again, I won’t keep secrets. I’ll do right by you, Clarke. Like I should have the first time... Please.”
Suddenly, Clarke felt very afraid. “I miss you too, Bellamy.” And it sounded like she’d meant to say ‘home’ when she said his name too.
Again, the conversation died down for a minute. Maybe two.
“Clarke? Before I ask you out on a date, because that is what I intend to do, I think you should know something, something that’s probably going to make the context of this phone call seem much worse.”
“If it’s that we’re soul mates, it’s okay Bell. I already know.”
“Oh, good..." Another pause, and the crackle of a deep breath taken over the other end of the phone. "So, can I please take you out to lunch so that we can talk things through?” He still sounded strangely nervous.
Clarke hesitated for a moment, their last conversation suddenly fresh in her mind. But she pushed it away. “Yeah, I think you can, Bellamy.”
“Thank you.” And he truly did sound grateful, like he’d just been granted a new lease on life, like his death penalty had just been lifted.
“I’ll text you the details.”
“See you soon, Clarke.”
“See you soon.” Clarke hung up.
“Wow, are the two of you getting back together?” Raven asked, hope in her eyes. It surprised Clarke, actually… she didn’t realise that that was what Raven had been hoping for, for her. But now that she thought about it, she realised that that was in fact what she wanted, now that she thought that there was a chance of it happening with it all blowing up in her face.
“I… hope so.” Clarke whispered. Raven hugged her, eyes sparkling.
“Okay, let’s wake up Wells.” She instructed.
-------
Clarke had texted Bellamy with the address of the café they’d been to on their very first date, so that was where he found himself standing outside in the middle of the lunch rush on the Saturday after their talk. She hadn’t sent anything else, and Bellamy had been growing more and more nervous. He couldn’t help but relieve all the ways he’d screwed up, and he was beginning to loath himself, and who he’d let himself become.
It was that that held him firmly in place on the other side of the door. It was wooden, thick, and he knew from experience that it was heavy. Heavy enough to keep in the air con inside, and to mean that he had to throw himself against it for it to open. Yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. He stood there for an eternity, he would have sworn before any jury. He couldn’t bring himself to move, and he refused to leave, knowing that would also be a dick move that he would completely regret for the rest of his existence. So he was stuck, at a standstill.
Then, all of a sudden, like magic, he felt that strange feeling that had haunted him the night he met Clarke, the night he’d stood outside the bar trying to decide what to do. It again felt like he was pulled inside, like he’d found his centre and all he had to do was step into it, like he’d been lost in the night his whole life and he knew that light awaited him on the other side. Again, he found his hand, shaking, on the wooden door.
But this time it was completely different, too. Because he knew that the light that was waiting for him was Clarke, and that he would never let her go again, not ever.
It was as though he’d been given a push through all his self-doubt and fear and regret and been reminded that Clarke still wanted him, still wanted to try. And not just because their names fit because of some stupid computer program that he had almost let ruin his life… but because she cared. Because she hoped for their future. Because she was Clarke and she was overflowing with love.
He shoved against the door, hard enough for it to fly open, because he loved her, had never stopped loving her, and because he was finally ready to admit that he was ready for whatever loving her would bring. Because whatever issues he had, they were made lighter by being with Clarke.
And there she was, light reflecting off of her hair, texting someone, no doubt Raven or Wells. She looked up at him, and he found himself offering a timid smile, soft and gentle and so full of hope it almost hurt; and she was smiling back. He walked over, and sat down across from her.
“So… How have you been?” She asked, and the conversation just flowed from there, with the same ease as it always had, even if the topics were more difficult to deal with. She mentioned wanting to go to relationship therapy together, and even though at first his stomach rebelled against the idea, he saw the benefits of it, and he agreed.
Besides, it would be worth it to be able to move forward with the love of his life in a healthy long-term relationship.
They talked about Octavia, and how they felt about that. Clarke was honest with him, which he was grateful for, and told him that she wasn’t happy – but she also told him that she’d forgive her – it’d just take some time. Bellamy told her that he was in the same boat, and she nodded gravely, and he understood that that was her way of showing him that she supported him still. Even after everything, and he knew they’d make it.
As they prepared to leave, Bellamy suddenly caught her looking at him as though he was a puzzle she was trying to solve. “Clarke?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry. It’s just… Soul mates, huh? Who would have known that you’d be my alliterative name?”
“Yep. And who’d have known that Clarke Smith would be my soul mate?” They laughed, and Bellamy knew it was a beginning.
“I love you, Clarke.” He watched her take a deep breath, and for a split second he panicked. He’d never said it before, afraid of the permanence of it, but it had been true for a very, very long time.
“I love you too, Bellamy. I never stopped.” She whispered, and suddenly they were kissing and Bellamy knew that he’d found his centre – and he was never leaving it again.
--------
Some days, Clarke couldn’t believe her luck.
A long time had passed since she’d used the name Clarke Smith, but she’d been right all those years ago – using it had changed her irrevocably.
Of course, getting to where she was now had been difficult, sometimes it had felt impossibly so. Therapy had been really important for her and Bellamy, and she knew that it had dealt with a lot of their issues really well, issues they might otherwise still be haunted by.
It had taken her a long time to forgive Octavia, or at least it had felt that way at the time, maybe a year and a half for their friendship to begin again. It had only taken Bellamy a few weeks, and he’d been talking to her again after one and a half. Clarke had had to work very hard not to begrudge that, but now, three years after she’d found out who her soul mate was, she and Octavia were firm friends, and they’d become much more honest with each other (And Octavia had stopped keeping secrets, or at least ones that didn't pertain to clothing). Of course, Raven and Wells were still her closest friends.
On days like that one it was almost difficult to believe they’d ever had any troubles ever, Clarke decided. She and Bellamy and Octavia and Lincoln and Raven and Jasper and Monty and Miller and Murphy were all in a hired minivan and driving up towards Clarke and Bellamy’s favourite autumn haunt. They knew that by now the trees would be on fire with colour, and they’d be able to have a perfect day.
So they drove for hours, ribbing at each other and in companionable silence until they arrived, laughing as they immediately began making leaf piles. Octavia and Lincoln's was the biggest, but only just, and only because Bellamy and Clarke had stopped half way to have a mini leaf fight, giving the other couple the edge, while the others tried too hard to sabotage each others. They had a picnic lunch, laughing the entire time.
It was truly a perfect day.
Of course, the fact that after lunch and before the cookies that she and Raven had baked for dessert Bellamy had sunk down on one knee and asked her to marry him had improved the day some. (She didn’t cry) (Much) (And of course she said yes – after all, wasn’t Bellamy Blake her alliteratively named soul mate? She wouldn’t want to deny fate or anything)
-----