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Chapter Text

Clarke is nine when she realises she has a soulmate. She’s sitting on the floor of her dad’s office drawing detailed pictures of all the pets she isn’t allowed because ‘they’ll ruin the carpets, Clarke,’ when she runs out of paper. Her dad is in a conference call and even though she had finally turned nine, she still can’t reach the top of the cabinet where the scrap paper is kept. She sighs dramatically and flops back onto the hardwood floor of the office. He had warned her in advance that it was going to be a long call and even got her snacks so she wouldn’t have to interrupt him. But she hadn’t thought to ask for more paper.

Eventually, she decides to sneak up to her dad's desk and swap her pencil for a sharpie. He is facing the window overlooking the pool and backyard, so he doesn’t notice his daughter grabbing the marker she isn’t allowed.

She positions the marker and begins, drawing an otter swimming her forearm. She’s most of the way finished when she feels a prickling and words appear underneath her otter. The fine blue ink and messy scrawl a stark contrast to the thick marker and neat drawing above it.

Go away. I don’t want a soulmate.

Clarke frowns at the words on her arm. She’s heard about soulmates, even seen them in movies, but they’re kind of rare and she’s only met two people who have one. She knows some of her friends have written messages on their own skin hoping that they would get a reply, but no one has ever gotten one as far as she knows. And now the blue ink on her arm clearly states that her soulmate isn’t interested in her. She hates them, she decides. Who cares if they don’t want her?

I don’t want one either. She writes in her thick marker underneath the blue words. But this is my skin and I want to draw on it. So there. She completes her message with an entire zoo down both her arms. She’s working on her legs when her dad finally turns around.

“Wow kiddo, are you going to be a tattoo artist?” He asks, standing up and taking the marker from her. “Let’s get you cleaned up before your mum gets home.”

He somehow misses the blue ink amongst the black, which Clarke is grateful for. Her soulmate is mean and she doesn’t want to have to tell her dad that. Her mum says he’s a hopeless romantic and he has told her lots of stories about soulmates. He would be sad and she’s not, so she doesn’t want to tell him.

*

It doesn’t take long for her soulmate to stop ignoring the drawings that she’s plastering all over her body, maybe only a month and he’s joining in. It started when he turned the princess she drew into a knight. She frowns at her arm, the black pen they are using much darker than the pink she is. But then she notices that it is a good drawing, better than any of her friends and she can’t help but pen in the horse in matching armour. Her soulmate adds a dragon in the sky, so she gives their knight a sword and shield. It’s the first time she has been interested in her soulmate. Maybe if she can have someone to draw with, it’ll be worth it. Maybe she won’t hate them as much.

They don’t draw together every day, that would be impractical because she still has school and soccer practice and ballet and she assumes that whoever it is has a life too. But they usually draw an entire world on a Friday night, so she can wash it off before her parents see. They both start using washable ink because for a while her skin was raw from scrubbing. Most mornings her soulmate showers first and leaves only her pictures but she secretly likes the mornings when she showers first because she likes seeing just their half of the pictures left on her skin.

*

Clarke turns thirteen on a rainy day in November. She has Wells, Miller, Harper, and Zoe sleep over. It’s an odd assortment of friends, but they’re all close. They play party games and eat so much junk food and by eleven o’clock her parents have told them to go to bed. They only wait ten minutes before sneaking out of Clarke’s bedroom and into the study where the two boys are supposed to be sleeping.

“Want to play truth or dare?” Harper whispers, as soon as Clarke clicks the door shut behind them. Harper has tucked her legs under Miller’s sleeping bag already.

“I’m going first,” Miller says, “I dare you to go get us some snacks, Wells.” Wells rolls his eyes, but sneaks back out the door and appears two minutes later with a bag of popcorn and a block of chocolate.

“That was quick,” Monroe comments, reaching for the bag and grabbing a handful. Clarke grins. Wells has been her friend forever and knows all the secrets of her house, like which stair creaks and where her mum hides the chocolate.

The game continues with the group daring and asking personal questions, laughing at confessions and teasing at crushes until finally Harper finally asks about soulmates.

“I don’t think I have one,” Miller shrugs.

“Me either,” Zoe answers immediately.

“Same,” Wells says. Clarke knows that Wells is the most upset about this, they’ve talked about it before. She thinks it’s unfair because Wells would be the best soulmate. He’s really nice and listens. That’s important.

“I have one,” Harper says quietly. She’s the newest of their friendship group, so Clarke isn’t surprised they’re only just hearing about it. “I’ve known since I was two and woke up from a nap with green ink on my face. Mum says she thinks my soulmate was chewing on a marker.”

They ask Harper a million questions, learning that he’s twelve the same as her, his name is Monty and he lives in Washington. They talk a lot and he’s one of her best friends.

“What about you, Clarke?” Zoe asks finally. Clarke’s hand automatically finds the band of planets her soulmate drew on her wrist just before they went to bed. She’s never told anyone about them. Especially because she doesn’t know anything about them, except that they don’t want a soulmate and they can draw. She thinks they might be a boy, but she doesn’t want to assume without knowing for sure.

“I do,” she says eventually, pulling her sleeve up to reveal the drawing.

“You never told me!” Wells says, pulling her arm closer and looking at the picture.

“I never told anyone,” Clarke says, letting the others look at her arm. “I don’t know much about them. We just draw pictures to each other.”

“Wait, you don’t know anything?” Miller asks. He sounds confused, which Clarke understands. Soulmates are supposed to be how you know you’re going to find true love. Finding out about them is exciting and most people don’t pass up on the opportunity to get to know them. But that’s not how it is for Clarke. She accepted that a long time ago.

“I know they can draw,” Clarke shrugs. “And they don’t want a soulmate.”

“Who doesn’t want a soulmate? That’s weird,” Miller mutters.

“Two out of five of us have soulmates,” Wells says, interrupting before Clarke can start arguing. He knows her well. “What are the chances?”

*

It’s nice to know that she has a friend who has a soulmate. It makes her feel less like she is hiding something from them. She still keeps her arms fairly hidden, but she’s less paranoid they might see. Her friends know she has someone who draws her pictures every few days. Sometimes Wells or Harper ask to see them and she doesn’t mind showing them. They’re good pictures. Washing them off before someone else sees them feels like a waste.

Sometimes reminders appear on her hand like, ‘ pick up O’ or ‘ grounders 3:45’ and she obviously doesn’t know what they mean, but she still writes over them incase they wash off and her soulmate forgets what they were supposed to do. She’s not resentful that they don’t talk. She likes the relationship they have now. If they were talking every day like Harper was to her soulmates, she feels like she would get bored. How much could they possibly have to say to each other?

One day in September her soulmate draws what is unmistakably a birthday cake on the inside of their wrist, so she hikes her skirt up and spends the entire of her maths class drawing a detailed birthday party of animals on her thigh. It’s the giraffe's birthday and she’s trying to make them look like they’re playing party games. She thinks he’s ignored it until she feels the prickling as she gets in bed hours later. It’s the first messages he’s written to her since he told her he didn’t want a soulmate.

Thanks , he’s written in a purple pen, you’re the only person who’s said happy birthday to me today.

Clarke’s hit with a pang, thinking about her soulmate spending their day waiting for someone to say happy birthday. What about their mum and dad or grandparents or friends? Surely there was someone who could have remembered. She falls asleep trying to decide what to say back to him and by the time she wakes up, the message is faded but still there. And now she has an idea.

She draws a huge birthday cake on her other thigh and writes, how many candles?, underneath it.

16, they write back almost instantly.

She delicately draws in sixteen candles with intricate flames. Her art teacher, Mrs Kane, has been teaching them how to draw fire this week. Make a wish!, she writes once she’s done.

I can’t blow out candles on my leg. The wish won’t count.

Did you make one?

He takes a little longer to reply this time and she’s getting ready for school when he finally answers with one word. Yes.

She uses a cloth to scrub the flames of the candles and can’t keep the grin off her face when replies again, thanks princess , with a tiny crown beside it. It’s the most they’ve ever really interacted and it feels like the start of something new.

Nothing really changes though, until her fourteenth birthday three months later when she draws her own birthday cake on her wrist. Her soulmate doesn’t reply right away, their replies in the pictures have been a lot less frequent than they used to be, but as Harper frequently reminds her, her soulmate sixteen and they get so much homework in high school. She’s getting changed after soccer practice when she notices the drawing on her leg. She must have missed the prickling while she was running laps. It’s a birthday picture, with a princess sitting in front of cake that’s literally five times the size of her. How many candles? , they’ve written next to it.

14, she writes back, wondering if it’s going to change things between them when they realise that she’s younger. She watches with fascination as he attempts to replicate the candles she’d drawn on their birthday. Her soulmate is not as good as drawing as she is anymore, but it’s not a bad job. She thinks she probably just has more time to practice than he does.

Make a wish princess, they write when they’re finished. She wishes that they could become friends, like Harper is with her soulmates. It feels silly because by now she thinks if she wrote to him he’d reply, but it’s what she wants and it’s her birthday wish. It doesn’t matter if it’s silly. She’s never going to tell anyone.

Done , she replies and watches as the candles on her leg fade until they’re completely gone.

“Hurry up, Griffin!” Niylah calls, bashing on the door to her stall. They’re getting milkshakes after training for Clarke’s birthday and she’s probably the only one who isn’t ready to go.

“Two minutes,” she shouts back, stepping into the skirt she had gotten for her birthday earlier that day. It sits just above her knee and she feels a rush of excitement when she realises that the picture from her soulmate is visible when she walks.

“What’s that?” Fox asks when she finally steps out of the changeroom. She’s pointing to Clarke’s leg and looking at her with curiosity.

“My soulmate,” she says, lifting her leg slightly so her friends can see the bottom of the drawing. She doesn’t show them the words though, that’s between her and the person with the other pen.

*

Three weeks later her dad is killed in a car accident. He’d been driving to work when his car spun out of control on the icy roads. Clarke hadn’t left for school yet and when her mum delivers the news she falls, her knees hitting the ground with a loud thud. Her mum is by her side in an instant and they stay on the floor, holding each other until Clarke is crying so hard she can’t breathe. She feels the prickling on her arm, but she doesn’t move it to check. Who cares what her soulmate is drawing when she has just lost the person she loves most in the world.

Her mum leaves shortly after, to make arrangements and whatever else she has to do but organises with Thelonious to bring Wells over and stay at the house with Clarke. Wells sits on her bed and rubs her back and refills the water bottle on her bedside table but they don’t speak. He’d already said he was sorry and now there is nothing left to say. There is nothing that can make her feel better.

She eventually falls asleep and doesn’t wake up until the next day. Wells has gone and she can hear her mum downstairs talking to someone. She doesn’t get out of bed, she doesn’t want to see whoever is down there. She doesn’t want to face the day. Instead, she stares at the wall in front of her, focussing on the crack just above the window. She’s never noticed it before and now she wonders if it’s a metaphor for her life, that feels like it’s cracking too. How is she going to be okay without her dad? She’s never done anything without him before. And now she has to manage the rest of her life without him? She’s not ready. She can’t do this.

She reaches behind her, pulling the pillow out and hurls it at the wall as hard as she can. It hits hits the mirror on her vanity and she watches with a strange satisfaction as it lands, knocking over perfumes and lip glosses that she’s received over the years. She doesn’t care if those things break because they don’t mean anything to her. Not without her dad.

“Clarke?” Her mum calls, coming up the stairs. “Are you okay?”

Clarke flies out of bed, locking her bedroom door before her mum can open it. She doesn’t want to see her.

“Clarke? What’s going on?” She calls, knocking on the door gently.

“Go away,” Clarke shouts. “I don't want to see you. Leave me alone.” She sinks the ground for the second time in twenty-four hours and buries her face in her knees. Letting the tears overcome her again. She can hear her mum speaking soothingly through the closed door, but she ignores it. She doesn’t want to talk to her. She doesn’t want to talk to anyone except for the only person she can’t. A new sob tears through her body.

She’s not sure how long she’s been leaning on her bedroom door for or when she fell asleep, but it’s dark when she wakes up. She’s disorientated for a moment, as she feels the memories of the past two days come back. She hasn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday, she has a headache from crying and her bones are stiff and achy from sleeping on her bedroom floor. And her heart is broken.

The house is quiet when she slips downstairs, her mum is probably asleep. Which is good. Clarke will apologise in the morning, but for now, she just wants some toast and a shower.

Once she’s eaten her toast, is showered and in fresh pyjamas, she finally checks her phone. She has missed calls and messages from all her friends, but she ignores them. They mean well, but she doesn’t know how to talk to them right now. They’ll understand. Wells would have told them what happened and she has no doubts in her mind all her friends will be at the funeral. She’ll talk to them soon.

She’s taking the marker out of her bedside draw before her brain as really comprehended what she’s doing. Are you awake? , she writes on her arm. It doesn’t take long for a reply from her soulmate and she feels a rush of relief when the word yes appears on arm in blue pen, just below her own words.

My dad died yesterday, she writes, the tears pricking in her eyes again.

Holy shit, princess. I am so sorry, are you okay? Stupid question, of course you’re not. Is there anything I can do? The words appear on her arm in rapid succession and she can tell he’s writing faster than he normally does, because it’s even messier than usual.

Nothing you can do, she writes, but it would be nice if we can talk for a bit? Even under the current circumstances, it feels like a lot to ask. They’re soulmates but they’re not friends. She’s not even sure why they are the person she wants to talk to.

Sure. What do you want to talk about?

Will you tell me something about yourself?

She learns that he is a boy, he also lives in the US and has a little sister who is not talking to him because they’re not allowed a puppy. He works at the coffee shop under his apartment building and goes to the public school around the corner. He wants to go to college and study history or teaching but he’ll probably end up doing something more ‘practical’ like learning a trade so he can start working straight away. She works out pretty quickly that they live a different kind of life, but the more she talks to him, the more she likes him. They have to clean their skin a few times, so there is room for more conversation and she is actually smiling by the time he asks her about her dad.

You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But talking about him might make you feel better. Sorry if that’s stupid, I read it somewhere.

I want to , she writes underneath the words on the top of her arm. She’d switched from the marker to a pen so it took up less room and she’s tapping it between her teeth, trying to decide what to say.

He was my best friend, she begins again. She tells him about her dad, how he used to take her for tacos after soccer practice and they didn't tell her mum. She tells him about the relationship they had. She talks about things she remembers from her childhood and that she’s going to need to get a maths tutor now because he was helping her with the concepts she didn’t understand. Her soulmate listens (or reads) everything, occasionally offering his input.

By the time the sun starts to rise again she’s feeling sleepy and every inch she can reach is covered in memories of her dad. Thank you, she writes along her ankle, for listening. The last thought she has before she goes to sleep is that she never asked for her soulmates name. And he never asked for hers.

*

With the help of Wells, her mum, and her soulmate, after two weeks she finally feels up to going back to her school. Her friends welcome her back with open arms and she can tell they’re making an effort not to treat her differently. The same cannot be said for her peers, who are basically standing on eggshells around her.

She finally cracks halfway through maths class and walks out, locking herself in the bathroom armed with a pen.

They’re treating me like I’m going to explode, she writes on her leg. I am not this delicate. It’s so much worse than just treating me like normal.

Maybe you should explode, his reply is instant, so he must be at school and not at work. She can’t wrap her head around the time differences. That will teach them.

Thanks, she writes, even though it’s really hard to convey sarcasm through the ink on her leg. I really appreciate your advice.

Happy to help.

Clarke draws a picture of a stick figure kicking another in the shin and adds a crown to the one doing the kicking, before pulling her skirt back down and returning to class. She’s already feeling better about being back at school and she’d only said four sentences to him. Turns out being friends with her soulmate really is as good as Harper said it was.

*

Not having her dad around is hard and it takes a lot of adjusting to but she is doing better. She gets her homework done and she still goes to soccer training. She does drop her ballet classes, but that has nothing to do with her father and everything to do with the fact she doesn’t want to be a ballerina. She even listens to her mum talk about the colleges she’s going to be needing to look at in a few years. Things aren’t perfect and she misses him more than anything, but she’s doing okay.

Until one night when she wakes up in a cold sweat, heart pounding in her chest. She’d woken up from a nightmare that is rapidly slipping away. She takes the pen from her bedside table and starts writing to her soulmate before she forgets. They’ve been talking a lot about dreams and analysing what they think they mean. But she suddenly has a feeling of overwhelming guilt and drops the pen as if it had scolded her halfway through her message. The only reason she even talks to her soulmate is because her dad is dead. She used his death to make friends with him and that is not okay. Nothing good should have come out of that.

So she puts the cap back on the marker and starts scrubbing her leg before he can wake up and see what she’s written. But he’s already replying.

What were you writing? I had to find a light bulb in the dark so I could see but it’s gone already? Clarke is tempted to write to him, chastising him for not changing the bulb when she had told him to earlier in the week but she can’t do it. She doesn’t deserve his friendship. So she ignores him.

It takes her a while to fall back to sleep. It’s especially hard when she gets a message that says, I assume you’re asleep again, tell me in the morning , because she’s not going to talk to him again. She wants to, but she can’t. Her dad deserves better than that. Better than a daughter that used his death to get in contact with her soulmate.

She wakes up with another message from him, detailing his own dream about the coffee shop he works in and Clarke ignores that too. It’s hard for her because she wants to tell him that his dreams mean he is breathing in too much caffeine.

*

Over the next few days the messages on her skin become more and more frantic. She pretty much has always replied to him within the hour, even when they were just drawing to each other. Now it has been three days of radio silence on her end and she can tell that he’s getting worried. But how can she reply? She was the one who wished their friendship into being but it still only happened because she lost her dad. It’s not right.

She’s sitting next to Harper in their chemistry class watching the words appear on her leg, instead of focussing on her teacher. She really should be paying attention because she’s not doing too well in the class, but the words are making her way to either cry or finally write back to him. But she can’t do either. So she just keeps staring at the messy handwriting and blue ink that she is now so familiar with.

So I spent the afternoon googling what happens when your soulmate dies. Apparently the only way you can tell long distance is if they stop writing back. Where are you? Please don’t be dead princess. Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean it if I offended you or something. You’re basically my best friend at this point. Please come back.

Her heart breaks a little with each letter that forms, but she doesn’t take a pen out of her. She returns to her notes, writing in pencil so she doesn’t accidentally draw on herself. Harper glances at her, concern obvious in her eyes back doesn’t ask the question. Clarke has been snarky ever since she realised her birthday wish technically correlates with her dad’s death. She knows it’s not rational, nor possible, but she can’t shake the feeling she doesn’t deserve her soulmate. That he does deserve someone better than her. She’s better off ignoring him and letting him realise.

She doesn’t anticipate him not giving up though. By the time it’s been a week her entire body is covered in writing. Some of it asking where she is, some saying that he misses her and others are simply little anecdotes of his day. She’s grateful that it’s still cold enough to wear long sleeves because she’s not really sure how to explain what’s going on to anyone and her mother doesn’t even know she has a soulmate, let alone that she’s ignoring him.

She’s getting ready for school, putting on a tiny bit of lip gloss and hoping her mum won’t notice when the message that is the final straw appears on her collarbone. She knows from experience that it’s hard to write there and reading it is difficult but she sighs when she deciphers it. Tell me where you are or I’ll write on your face .

She doesn’t really have a choice, she reasons as she takes the marker from her vanity and holds it above her palm, the only free space on her body. If she doesn’t talk to him he’ll write or draw something embarrassing on her face and she can’t go to school like that. The alternative is allowing it to happen and then telling her mum everything, which is just as bad.

Wait, she writes on her palm because it’s the only clean space left on the skin she can reach, I’m sorry.

She watches him clean a space on her forearm before writing, where have you been? , and sighs, drawing an ellipsis to let him know that she’s thinking. How is she supposed to explain it to him? Should she even bother? He was the one who told her that he didn’t want a soulmate in the first place. She’d given him the easy way out. But then she remembers that he told her she was basically his best friend and she can’t ignore that. Maybe not talking to him and not explaining what she was thinking had been a little selfish. She might not deserve him, but he deserves an explanation.

When I made a wish on my birthday, she writes, I wished that we could be friends and it came true. But the only reason we became friends is because my dad died. I wrote to you because I was sad which means I used my dads death. I don’t deserve to have a soulmate.

Before I start unpacking how untrue that is, the blue ink on her arm reads, let me just tell you how fucking glad I am that you’re alive. I thought you had died and I would never know what happened to you.

Princess, you didn’t use your dad's death at all. I was basically about twelve more hours of self control away from writing to you first. If you think you wished that happening to your dad into being true, you’re wrong. You haven’t used anything. You’re the most deserving of having a soulmate out of everyone I know.

His words continue to appear on her arm, but the tears blurring in her eyes make it hard to read. She should have written to him the moment she started having these feelings because he always knows what to say to make her feel better.

By the time she is getting into the car to be dropped at school she is smiling again. Her soulmate has convinced her that she didn’t use the death of her father to be his friend. It was something that was inevitable and her reaching out didn’t make her a bad person. She feels better, being in contact with him again. Enough so that she’s able to admit that maybe he is her best friend too.

Platonic soulmates are a thing. She knows that sometimes that’s just how people meet their best friends.

*

Clarke is in her sophomore year when she meets the first boy she gets a real crush on. His name is Finn and he makes her laugh and has cute eyes and long hair. Her friends like him and he even makes a good impression on her mum when he walks her home after school one day.

He doesn’t have a soulmate, but he’s not worried that she does. They talk about it and he’s happy to accept that she’s only friends with the boy writing messages on her arms. He’s surprised when she says she doesn’t know his name, but doesn’t question it. Which she’s glad about. She’s not sure how to explain that she likes the mystery of not knowing who he is.

I met a boy, she writes to her soulmate one night. She’s anxious to tell him because even though they’ve never talked about anything other than being friends, she knows what most people expect from soulmates. What if he gets mad at her and doesn’t want to talk? It takes him a while to reply and she tries to reason with herself that he’s probably working but she can’t help thinking he’s ignoring her.

Cool, he replies at exactly 9, so he probably just got off work. What’s his name?

Finn, she writes, excitement bubbling in her chest. He’s not mad at her. He’s really cool. He plays guitar.

Her soulmate draws a stick figure rolling his eyes, but then asks her another question and let’s her gush over her crush.

She kisses Finn for the first time a week later. They’re sitting in the park and he’s helping her with her chemistry homework, when he takes the pen from her hand and replaces it with his hands. It’s sweet and she likes it and she can’t wipe the smile off her face when he pulls away.

“I really like you, Clarke,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the palm of her hand. She forces herself not to cringe when she remember that her soulmate had drawn a coffee cup there. He’s having a bad shift at work, while Clarke is on a date.

“I really like you too,” she says, ducking her head on a smile and pushing her soulmate out of her mind.

*

“Heard you had a date with Finn Collins?” A girl who Clarke is pretty sure is in the year above says, dropping into the empty chair next her. She’s a little taken aback, but smiles. Gossip travels fast around her school.

“Yeah,” she says. “I did.”

“I hate to tell you this, but he’s my boyfriend,” the girl says.

Clarke’s blood runs cold as she turns to stare at the girl sitting next her. She has her long dark hair in a ponytail and is wearing a red bomber jacket. She doesn’t look angry, just a little upset, which Clarke takes as a sign she is telling the truth. Finn really has a girlfriend.

“He’s… what?” Clarke asks, shaking her head. How could he do this to her? He’d been so nice.

“We’ve been together since we were thirteen,” she says. “Guess he got bored.” Her laugh is bitter and she rolls her eyes at Clarke as if they’re sharing some private joke.

“I’m so sorry,” Clarke manages to spit out, furiously blushing and wanting nothing more than to be out of the library and at home writing to her soulmate about how wrong she was about Finn.

“It’s not your fault, you clearly didn’t know,” she says, shrugging. “I’m Raven.”

“Clarke,” she manages, her cheeks still red.

Raven manages to convince Clarke to skip her next class and get coffee with her. They end up at a coffee shop that Clarke has never heard of and one she is sure she’s not going to run into her mum at. Raven orders them both a drink and somehow doesn’t have to pay at the counter. They sit in a quiet booth at the back of the coffee shop and start talking about Finn.

“I had a feeling he was lying to me,” Raven tells Clarke with a shrug of her shoulders. “So I started doing some digging and heard he was on a date with you.”

“I’m really sorry,” Clarke says for what feels like the hundredth time. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I know,” Raven assures her. “I just don’t know how he thought he could get away with dating two girls from the same school at once.”

Clarke half laughs because even to her, someone who knows nothing about high school dating, it’s obvious that he was going to get caught sooner or later.

“- have a soulmate and he doesn’t,” Raven is saying when Clarke tunes back in. “Finn always said it didn’t bother him but maybe it does.”

“You have a soulmate?” Clarke asks, a little shocked. None of her friends with soulmates ever really dated. People usually waited until they could meet theirs. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t waiting for true love with someone they’d never met.

“His name is Zeke,” Raven tells her. “He lives in Detroit though. We agreed that the universe doesn’t decide who we’re meant to be with. Zeke’s my friend, but we’re just friends. We’re going to meet before we go to college, but we’re not waiting for a relationship together. Especially if it might never happen.”

“I have a soulmate too,” Clarke admits, pulling up her sleeve to show Raven the drawings on her arm. She thinks it’s supposed to be him serving customers at work, but it’s incredibly smudged.

“Maybe he thought we were both hung up on someone else,” Raven says, “so it justified cheating.”

“ Nothing justifies that,” Clarke says firmly. Because it doesn’t. Finn had no right to treat her or Raven that way. Raven nods her head in agreement and takes a long sip of her coffee, staring out the window for a moment. She seems okay, like Finn hadn’t really hurt her, but Clarke has a feeling that she is putting up a tough front. She’d said they’d been together since they were kids. She already likes Raven. How could Finn do this?

Later when she gets home, she writes, Finn is an arsehole, on her leg and waits patiently for his response.

It takes about ten seconds for the words to start showing up, in blue ink right underneath her black. What happened?

Clarke writes and writes until she runs out of room on her left leg and moves onto her right. She  writes about how she had thought Finn really liked her, how she thought she really liked him. She wrote about Raven and how she feels bad for hurting because Raven should be hurting more. She writes about finding out she was the ‘other woman’ and about how embarrassed she is. She writes until she needs a new pen.

Her soulmate doesn’t reply until she’s finished, He’s an idiot. You and Raven are both better off without him. But I’m sorry you went through that, princess. Let me know if you need me to come out there and punch him.

Clarke doesn’t know exactly where her soulmate lives, just that he is two hours ahead of her and is often asleep after her and awake before her. The sentiment of him travelling to punch Finn still makes her smile though, so she draws a little love heart beside his words and watches as more words of encouragement advice appear.

She loves him, her soulmate. Maybe not the romantic love that everyone expects, but he’s her best friend.

Chapter Text

Raven and Clarke both break up with Finn the next day and consequently become friends. It’s not how Clarke would have pictured it playing out, but she’s not complaining. Raven is rapidly becoming one of her favourite people. She’s full of confidence, incredibly smart and helps Clarke shut down the rumours about them. She is also one of the nicest people Clarke has ever met and she really can’t fathom how Finn could cheat on Raven.

She fits seamlessly into Clarke’s friendship group, developing a close relationship with Wells’s new girlfriend Luna.

“She loves me more, Jaha,” Raven says, dropping into Luna’s lap and planting a kiss on her temple. They’re at Raven’s graduation party and while most of Clarke’s friends still have another year of school, they’re celebrating the beginning of summer as hard as the graduates are. Which means they’re all a little drunk.

“She’s not wrong,” Luna confirms, lacing her fingers with Raven. “We’re in love. We’re going to move to the sea and rule the world.”

“Definitely babe,” Wells says, smiling at his girlfriend and shaking his head a little. “Can I be your secretary?”

“You can be vice-ruler of the world,” Raven grins, moving from Luna’s lap to stand behind Wells so she can wrap her arms around him. “I love you too. I love you all.”

Raven gets really affectionate when she’s drunk, lamenting about being glad Finn cheated on her because it led her to her to find her real friends. Clarke personally agrees. Raven is by far the best thing to come from knowing Finn. She still thinks this, even as the song changes and Raven grabs both of Clarke’s hands, pulling her into the middle of the living room so they can dance. She’s giggling and stumbling as Raven spins her in circles.

“Didn’t you used to be a ballerina?” Raven teases.

“The most uncoordinated ballerina child in the world,” Clarke confirms, dropping back onto the couch.

“Rest then, weakling,” Raven grins, pulling one of her classmates into dance instead. Clarke smiles, watching her dance. She’s so grateful to have her as a friend.

“Hey,” Niylah says, dropping beside Clarke. They don’t really hang out as much as they used to, but they’re still friends. "Want to get a drink?"

Clarke ends up spending a lot of the rest of the night with Niylah. They sit on the couch and talk about Niylah’s plans for the next year and where Clarke wants to end up the year after. Niylah even lets Raven pull them both back up to dance.

Clarke is surprised when Niylah kisses her at the end of the night, but it’s the happy kind of surprise. Niylah is soft and sweet and Clarke finds herself melting into her and smiling when they pull away.

“I had fun tonight,” Niylah says, as they sit out the front waiting for their rides. “Make sure you drink some water when you get home.”

“Me too, I mean you too,” Clarke giggles. “I mean both.” She’s drunk but mostly just happy. She’s had a good night with her friends and with Niylah and she doesn’t have to go back to school until September. Raven is only moving a four-hour drive away and Clarke and Harper have plans to move into the same city next year. Things are working well. She can’t wait to tell her soulmate about her night and ask about his. He was going out with some of his friends to test their new fake IDs and had been acting grumpy about it.

“Are you going to get home alright?” Niylah laughs.

“I’m fine,” Clarke assures her. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Clarke,” Niylah says slowly, “I - this was just tonight. I’m leaving soon. I thought you... you have a soulmate.”  Clarke sighs mentally, preparing herself for the sting of rejection that doesn't come.

“Oh,” Clarke says, nodding her head. She’s not upset, which surprises her. She likes Niylah, sure, but maybe not the way she was expecting. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lead you on. I thought we were on the same page.” Niylah says, looking genuinely upset at the idea of hurting Clarke.

“It’s okay,” Clarke says, bumping their shoulders together. They’re friends and she’s surprisingly okay with this. “Did you want to get a coffee anyway? I’m meeting Raven and Harper for brunch.”

Niylah agrees, standing up as a car rounds the corner. She kisses Clarke’s cheek, after checking again that she was alright on her own.

It’s only about fifteen seconds after Niylah is gone that Wells joins her on the curb.

“Is that a thing now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head in the direction of the car Niylah had just left in. She’s almost certain that he was waiting for Niylah to leave so he could ask Clarke about her.

“Nope,” Clarke says. “It was just fun. And she thinks I’m hung up on my soulmate.”

“I mean you are, so I’m glad it’s a not a thing,” Wells agrees.

“What?”

“You’re soulmate? You love him,” Wells shrugs. “I get that. He’ll eventually realise that he has feelings for you and wants to meet you.”

“I don’t love him like that ,” Clarke scoffs, shoving Wells and rolling her eyes.

“Yes, you do,” Wells rolls his eyes back at her, pointing to the paragraph on Clarke’s leg that she had written while she was in the bathroom earlier.

“We’re friends,” Clarke shrugs, pulling her skirt down. It’s not like the words are private but she doesn’t need anyone reading them. Not when she's having this conversation with Wells. 

“Do you really not know?” Wells asks, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the sky. “Who are you going to tell about tonight when you get home? Who is the first person you tell things to? Who do you talk about the most? Who are you thinking about right now?”

It hits her like a tonne of bricks. Wells is right. He’s the first person she thinks of when she wakes up and the last person she thinks about when she goes to sleep. She talks to him about everything. He’s the reason Finn cheating on her didn’t hurt as much as it should have. He’s the reason she’s gotten through the last two years without her dad. She’s in love with him. And she doesn’t even know his name.  

“Shit,” Clarke mutters. “I’m in love with my soulmate.”

“There it is,” Wells says softly. “There’s that realisation.”

“What do I do?” Clarke groans.

“Talk to him about it?” Wells rolls his eyes yet again. But he doesn’t get it. That’s not them. She’s strictly friends with her soulmate. They’re not supposed to like each other that way.

“He doesn’t want a soulmate,” Clarke says, it feels like a confession, now that she knows how she feels. “He told me. He just wants to be friends.”

“He was eleven when he said that, Clarke,” Wells tells her, gently squeezing her hand. “Things might have changed.”

*

Harper’s brother drops her home shortly after and she manages to sneak into her bedroom without alerting her mother that she’s been drinking. She settles into bed before taking the pen from her bedside table and holding it above her leg, tapping gently on her thigh while she decides what to write to him. She’s not going to tell him what she just realised. She’s not ready for that. And it’s totally unfair of her to spring it on him when she has never even met him.

Do you think we can control our destinies? She eventually writes. It’s not really what she wants to say but it should give her some idea of how he feels about having a soulmate now compared to when he was a child. She hopes he thinks differently because when he was eleven he had refused to talk to her for the longest time.

To do with soulmates? He replies shortly after. Of course we do. Neither of us are insisting that we need to be together just because of the link. You’ve dated other people and so have I. We definitely control our own destinies.

Clarke takes a deep breath, trying to stop her tears. She’s only upset to hear that he’s dating because she’s drunk. They’re friends and she kissed Niylah tonight, he’s allowed to be with other people. That what I thought, she writes, trying to keep her hands from shaking, thanks! Goodnight! :)

She doesn’t wait for a reply before slipping into leggings and a long sleeve shirt, despite the warm night. She doesn’t want to be tempted to check. Not tonight. She needs to sleep off the alcohol in her system and then re-evaluate everything.

When she wakes up the next morning, she has a headache and she can’t decide if it’s from drinking or from spending the night overthinking what her soulmate means to her. She’s known she loved him for a while, he’s her best friend - of course she loves him. But realising she’s in love with him changes everything.

After a lot of deliberating, she decides she doesn’t have to let it change their friendship. The way she feels might be different but she doesn’t have to act on it. He doesn’t have to know.

She’s getting ready for a shower when she notices the words below her goodnight message and smiles. Sleep well, princess, with his signature crown beside it.

The realisation of being in love with him doesn’t actually change much. Clarke assumes it’s because she has been for a while and it’s not new. She was just being naive and pretending her feelings weren’t there. It’s strange, knowing how much she loves him and not knowing his name or never having met him.

They’re still friends. They still talk every day. It’s just now every time he says something sweet, it makes the butterflies in her stomach go crazy and her cheeks go red. It’s getting really old.

“I can’t believe I’m into my soulmate,” Clarke groans three weeks after the initial realisation, collapsing onto Harper’s bed in a huff.

“Really?” Hasper asks sarcastically. “You can’t believe you’re into the person the universe thinks you should be into?”

“I don’t want the universe to decide who I’m into,” Clarke grumbles. “I wanted to be able to make that choice for myself.”

“And you have,” Harper reminds her gently. “You’ve decided to be into him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being into your soulmate,” Raven says. “They’re supposed to be your perfect fit anyone.”

“Coming from the person who’s said hers is both the bane of her existence and her best friend?” Clarke mutters, a little bitter. Raven has said on numerous occasions that Zeke is nothing but a friend to her. One that she is excited to meet in two weeks. Zeke needs to drive through the city Raven is moving to get to his own university in Boston, so they’re doing to drive together. He's catching the bus and Raven is driving from there.

“Zeke is a pain in my arse,” Raven says, holding up her wrist where he has written what appears to be a whole lot of code. “He thinks this is going to solve my issues with this.” She hits her laptop.

Clarke rolls her eyes at Harper as Raven goes on to explain the problem Zeke thinks he’s solved. She wishes she could be as sure as Raven about her feelings for her soulmate. Or that she was able to communicate with him better, like Harper and Monty. Sure she talks to him every day and knows almost everything about him; what he wants to do, that he's loved his first year of college. She knows where he wants to live, that he wants to travel, that helping to raise his sister is terrifying but he can’t give it up because he feels responsible for her. She doesn’t know where he’s from though, they’ve never talked about meeting. And she doesn’t know his name. And she doesn’t know why he doesn’t want a soulmate.

And she knows she loves him, she knows she’s probably in love with him. She just wishes she knew how to deal with that. Because he’s always going to be there. Ink on her skin and the person she loves most in the world.

She wants to talk to him about it, but how can she without admitting the real issue at hand? That she’s in love with him. Instead, she uses a pen on Harper’s bedhead to write My friends are driving me crazy , on her arm.

What are they doing? He writes back after less than five minutes. It must be a slow day at work.

They’re just being annoying, Clarke writes, deliberately holding her arm so Raven and Harper can see.

“Be careful,” Raven teases, throwing a cushion from Harper’s bed at Clarke. “Or I’ll tell him why you really think we’re annoying.”

*

Clarke wakes up to a loud ringing and groans, scrubbing her hand over her eyes and blindly reaches for her phone.

“What?” Clarke mumbles, knowing that it’s probably one of her friends.

“Oops, time differences,” Raven says. “I forgot your two hours behind.”

“What do you want?” Clarke mumbles, rolling over and resting her phone on her face.

“I think I’m in love with my soulmate,” Raven says sounding defeated as if admitting it was hard. Which Clarke definitely relates to. Admitting she was friends with hers was hard enough, admitting she was in love with him? That was something else entirely.

“You think?” Clarke presses. Raven had only met her soulmate a week ago and she had been sending updates and selfies in the group chat. He was staying with her for another three days before he had to move on to his own college. She had never once indicated that she had feelings other than the platonic best friends she swore they were.

“He's great, Clarke,” Raven sighs. “Smart and funny and charismatic and so cute. I really like him.”

Clarke spends an hour on the phone listening to Raven gush about Zeke and telling her all the things she’s been told herself. There is nothing wrong about being in love with her soulmate, in fact, it’s a good thing. He almost definitely feels the same. By the time she gets off the phone she has Raven convinced it’s worth taking a shot with him.

Raven like likes her soulmate, Clarke writes. It’s not as early for him as it is for her, so she’s not surprised when he replies pretty much instantly.

Didn’t they just meet? He answers, drawing love hearts all around his message.

Soulmates, Clarke writes underneath, drawing a face rolling their eyes.

Yeah, they’re the worst , he writes. So annoying. Clarke and her soulmate bicker back and forth on their skin, their remarks teasing and if Clarke didn’t know any better she would say bordering on flirtatious. But it’s difficult to tell.

*

Her senior year of high school flies by and before she is ready she is looking into dorm life with Harper and helping Raven find an apartment with her new roommate, Emori.

She’s equal parts terrified and excited about moving out of home and starting her life in a new city. Her soulmate has been varying his messages over the last two years between college being the best ever and so much easier than high school to it melting his brain and he’s not even sure he’s going to graduate. His stressful messages usually correlate to when he has tests or papers due and go back to casual once he gets his marks. He’s a giant nerd who’s studying history and wants to teach when he’s done. So he always does well.

“Your father would be so proud,” Abby tells her, pulling her into a hug as they’re packing the last of Clarke’s room up. “And so am I.”

“Thanks mum,” Clarke smiles, shoving clothes haphazardly into a box. Her mum frowns at her as she folds one of Clarke’s jackets and lays it neatly in the suitcase beside her. She hadn’t been ecstatic that Clarke hadn’t chosen to pursue a career in medicine but became more and more excited as Clarke handed her brochures on the courses she wanted to take and what she was going to do with her arts degree.

Clarke’s mum drives her and Harper to the campus in Arkadia. Raven had offered to pick them up but Abby had wanted to see them off and swears her car is going to blow up if you don’t stop messing around in that engine, Raven ! It’s a four-hour drive but Abby lets them choose the music and play it as loud as they want and they stop for snacks twice, so it’s not as bad as Clarke was expecting.

Abby helps them bring their stuff to the dorm room they are miraculously sharing, helping carry boxes for both of them. Harper is unpacking one of her suitcases and Abby is hanging Clarke’s clothes in the wardrobe when Clarke realises her sketchbook is under the seat of the car.

“I left something in the car, I’ll be right back,” Clarke calls over her shoulder as she walks out of the dorm room and to the car.

“Clarke,” Abby calls. Clarke jumps, nearly hitting her head on the door frame of the car. “I just wanted to give you this.”

Clarke turns to face her mum, feeling her sketchbook catch on her shorts and lift them. She doesn’t think for a moment, curious as to what her mum is giving her. But then she remembers the novel of well wishes for the move her soulmate had written on her leg that morning. She still hasn’t told her mum about him, not because she doesn’t want to, just because she doesn’t know how. But now Abby is looking at her leg, a small smile on her face.

“Mum,” Clarke begins, her face red. “It’s just my - I have a…” She trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know, sweetheart,” Abby says, reaching for the sketchbook so Clarke can pull down the leg of her shorts. “I understand that it’s a private thing. But I’ve always known.”

“You knew?” Clarke frowns for a second. She thought she had been so careful about keeping the words and pictures on her skin hidden. But then she smiles, because her mum finding out turned out to be fine. She’s not even sure what she’s worried about.

“Of course. I saw your skin after your father died,” Abby says a little sadly but still with a smile, “I was just glad you had someone. I know you’d tell me when and if you were ready.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Clarke says. She means it to. But her mum is still smiling at her and holding a small, white box in her outstretched hand. Clarke takes it, curiously removing the lid and looking inside.

She can’t help the small gasp that escapes her lips, because she’d recognise that watch anywhere. It’s old and battered and as far as she knew, lost over the years. But it’s not lost, it’s in her hands. Her father’s watch. She takes it out of the box, sliding it onto her wrist. It’s familiar, even though she hasn’t seen it since she was fourteen. He had always promised that she would get it when she went to college and her mum has made sure it happened. She can’t help the tears that well in her eyes as she throws her arms around her.

“Mum, this is amazing,” Clarke says, trying to contain the crack in her voice.

“I’m glad you like it,” she says, sounding as though she is crying too. “I’m glad I was able to give it to you.”

Clarke holds her mum for another minute before pulling away and wiping her eyes.

“We should go finish unpacking,” she says, her smile a little watery.

It takes them the rest of the afternoon to sort out their dorm room and Clarke and Harper are buzzing with excitement by the time they fold up the last box. Abby insists on taking them for dinner. Afterwards, she makes them promise that they’ll be safe and they can both call her if they ever need anything.

And then she drops them back at campus, hugging Harper before holding Clarke close. As soon as she leaves, Clarke and Harper are out the door of their dorm and on their way to Raven’s new apartment. She wants to take them to a party tonight and introduce them to some of her friends and their new college life. Clarke’s not really a party person but she misses Raven and is really excited to meet her friends.

“My girls,” Raven shouts when she opens the door and pulls them both into a hug. “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

“I missed you too,” Clarke says, when Raven lets them go. “I can’t believe we’re finally here.”

“Finally,” Raven agrees, dragging them both into the house and pulling a bottle down from the top of her fridge. “How was the drive up?”

Clarke and Harper talk about their trip to Arkadia, meeting their RA and their dorm room, while they drink whatever weird concoction Raven has made them. She tells them about her roommate, how they’re going to love her and then she tells them about the other friends she’s made. And then she tells them about Zeke. They’ve both heard most of it on the phone, but there is something different about the three of them sitting in Raven’s kitchen finally talking face to face after a year. Clarke’s missed it.

More than an hour later when Clarke is already feeling a little tipsy, Raven declares them ready to leave. She takes them both by the hands and practically drags them down the stairs of her building and into the street.

“It’s only a couple of blocks,” Raven says, still tugging on Clarke and Harper. Raven’s couple of blocks quickly turn into seven and Clarke regrets the strappy sandals and dress her mother had convinced her to wear, wishing she was still in jeans and converse.

Raven leads the way into another apartment building and pushes her way into number 19 without knocking. There aren’t as many people in the room as Clarke was expecting, maybe fifteen. It’s more than she is normally comfortable with but she’s pleasantly tipsy and she has her two best friends by her side. So she plasters a smile on her face and follows Raven in.

They’re immediately introduced to Raven’s new roommate, Emori and their other friend Echo who had just ended it rather amicably with her boyfriend, because as a very intoxicated Emori explains, ‘he finally admitted he was hung up on his soulmate.’ Clarke likes Raven’s friends, they’re welcoming and fun and are very open about their soulmates, which is something Clarke hadn’t found at school. Echo doesn’t have one, which she says she is happy about. She doesn’t want the universe telling her who she should be with, she prefers the challenge. Gina doesn’t have one either, but Anya does; a girl who she’s planning to meet at the end of the year.

“Mine is an arsehole,” Emori says, when there is a lull in conversation. “I found out about him when I was nine and he was twelve and he wrote ‘ is anyone there ?’ on my face.”

Clarke laughs along with the others as Emori fondly describes the antics her soulmate gets up to.

“He’s great. He was my friend for years,” she says, “but I always knew it would be something more.”

“I have one too,” Clarke says. She’s drunk and sick of hiding this. So what if her situation is kind of sucky? It is what it is. “It’s a weird situation. He doesn’t want a soulmate and I’m in love with him.”

“Shit,” Emori says, “that sucks.”

“It’s not ideal,” Clarke agrees, “but I’d rather have him as my best friend, then not at all.”

There is a murmuring of agreement from Emori and Raven, even Echo looks thoughtful.

“Hey, speaking of arseholes who are reluctantly in one-sided love with their soulmates,” Echo says after it’s been quiet for a moment. “This is Bellamy.”

“Hey guys,” he says, wrapping an arm around Emori’s shoulders and nods at her. “Hey princess. ”

He’s tall, with a head full of black curls, broad shoulders and tan skin and freckles. Objectively, he’s really attractive. But he called her princess - probably because of the tiara on her phone case, but she’d bought it because it reminded her of her soulmate - and that’s what he calls her. So this Bellamy doesn’t have the right. And because she’s drunk, she decides she hates him and spits back a hello. Raven furrows her brow, looking at her in confusion. It’s not unlike Clarke to be prickly upon first meeting someone, but she’s usually not blatantly rude.

She breaks away from the group shortly after, every word Bellamy says is making her like him less. She thinks that she’s probably being dramatic but she’s also stubborn as hell and is never going to admit it. For now, Bellamy is the guy she met at her first college that she hates.

She finds Harper shortly after, chatting with some people she seems to have made friends with and joins her. They’re nice and Clarke enjoys talking to them until Raven pulls her and Harper out to dance. They get another drink and Clarke completely forgets about Bellamy until he literally runs into her. He was walking backwards, talking to someone as he walks away and she’s almost certain it was an accident but that doesn’t stop her from snapping at him.

“Watch where you’re going.”

“Calm down, princess,” he mutters, “it was an accident.”

“Stop calling me that,” she snaps, pushing past him and letting herself into the miraculously empty bathroom. She drops down on the edge of the bath and pulls a pen from her pocket. I met a total arsehole tonight - worse than you, she writes on her leg. Her handwriting is a little wobbly because she’s drunk and she probably should have written higher because her dress isn't going to cover this. But whatever, she’s been open about her soulmate and she did meet an arsehole. It's all true.

She sits and waits for her reply for a few minutes, messaging Wells and telling him about Bellamy.

“Shit,” a voice interrupts her thoughts. Clarke looks up and sees Echo standing in the doorway. “I didn’t realise anyone was in here.”

“It’s okay,” Clarke smiles, “I was just having a minute.”

“Are you okay?” Echo asks, dropping beside her. Clarke watches as Echo’s eyes catch on the writing on Clarke’s leg. Clarke flushes for a moment because it’s pretty obvious who she is talking about.

“Your handwriting looks really famil-” Echo begins, frowning slightly, and then she lets out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I’m not touching this one. Go find Raven. I have to pee.”

Clarke leaves the bathroom confused but not dwelling on what Echo had said. She finds Raven and by the time she’s had another drink, she’s completely forgotten about the weird encounter.

She’s home, in bed and almost asleep by the time her soulmate replies with, must have been the night for it. College girls are so full of themselves.

College boys are no better, Clarke replies, talking to him already making her feel better about it.

*

Clarke doesn’t think about Bellamy at all in the following week. She’s focussed on settling into dorm life with Harper and spending as much free time as she can catching up with Raven.

She’s too excited to even think about him. Harper meets Monty and then introduces him the following day. He’s sweet, kind of nerdy and perfect for Harper. She confesses that they were just waiting to meet to start dating. They knew it was going to work. Clarke and Harper are also introduced to Zeke who really is as good as Raven says he is and Clarke is ecstatic that Raven’s soulmate turned out to be the perfect person for her. Her first week at college has been fantastic.

But then Bellamy Blake is in her first class at eight o’clock on a Monday morning and she has to suppress a groan when she sees him. She doesn’t even really remember why she doesn’t like him. Just that she had decided not to.

She doesn’t sit next to him, pointedly walking to the only other free seat in the room. She doesn’t miss his smirk when he watches her stalk across the classroom. She makes an effort not to look at him throughout the class, focussing on the boy she’s next to. His name is Jasper and he’s taking the class so he can better understand the artwork his soulmate is so excited by. He’s a sweet guy, if a little enthusiastic. Clarke likes him. Sitting next to him was definitely a better idea than sitting next to Bellamy.

The class seems to drag by, even though it’s her first and she was interested in the content. It’s probably because she can’t stop throwing scathing glances at Bellamy when she feels his eyes on her. Which is too often. The fact that he’s smart and she agrees with a lot of his answers and opinions just makes her mad. Because he can’t be cute and smart and be as a much of an arsehole as he is. That's just unfair.

“I hate Bellamy Blake,” Clarke tells Raven when she gets back to her dorm and finds her friend reclining on her bed. She’d ask how she got inside, but she has a feeling she doesn’t want to know.

“That’s unfortunate,” Raven says, not looking up from her phone. “Because we’re meeting him and the others for lunch in an hour.”

“Why do you have to be friends with arseholes?” Clarke groans, dropping onto Harper’s bed dramatically.

“I don’t think I’m the problem here,” Raven grins. “You’re the one with the irrational hatred.”

Clarke throws Harper’s pillow in response but otherwise changes her subject. If Raven is friends with him, she really should at least try and give him a chance. Maybe.

Giving him a chance lasts all of ten seconds because when he greets her he calls her princess and that just makes her mad. They’re snarking at each other immediately and Raven makes them sit on opposite sides of the table.

Clarke feels like she’s doing a pretty good job at ignoring Bellamy until her food comes out. She can’t help the face she makes when she realises her side salad has tomatoes in it.

“Not good enough for you, princess?” Bellamy smirks at her.

“Just drop it,” Clarke snaps, glaring across the table at him and then turning to Raven. “Do you want my tomatoes?”

That guy from the party is haunting me, Clarke writes on her arm minutes later, after she’s excused herself to go to the bathroom. He’s everywhere. She gives it a minute, but her soulmate doesn’t reply. He’s probably in class or something anyway. They’ll talk tonight.

When she gets back, Bellamy is smiling softly at his own arm at the words that have apparently just appeared. It's a different look on him and Clarke is actually surprised he can do anything other than smirk or frown.

“What’s she saying?” Raven asks, reaching for his arm. He snatches it away and rolls down the sleeve of his jacket.

“Nothing that concerns you,” he tells her with a wink.

“I feel sorry for them,” Clarke snarks at Bellamy, tugging her sleeve downs so he can’t see the words she’d just written on her arm. “Having you for a soulmate would be terrible.”

“I could say the same to you,” he says back. “Perfect princess and her perfect soulmate.”

“You two are so fucking ridiculous,” Raven says, with a roll of her eyes as she leans across the table and shoves Bellamy. “Just be nice to each other.”

*

“He’s just so irritating,” Clarke rants to Harper that night. They’ve only just gotten home from when they went to lunch and Clarke is exhausted. And she still has to do her reading for tomorrow’s class.

“I think he’s alright,” Harper says. “Or at least not as much as an arsehole as you think he is.”

“Yeah, but you think the best of everyone,” Clarke complains.

“Just give him a second chance,” Harper laughs.

Clarke sighs, shaking her head but finally agreeing. Raven is usually a good judge of character. Clarke should trust her on this.

Chapter Text

In the coming weeks, Clarke does her best to just ignore Bellamy Blake. He still makes rude comments and petty jokes at her expense, but she learns to just laugh them off. And by the time they stop annoying her to the point of wanting to pull her hair out, she notices it’s not just directed at her. He makes similar comments to everyone and receives them just as often. She even notices that he’s always the first to offer his help if someone needs it. That he’s the one who stays sober and drives if they’re too far to walk. That he’s actually not as bad as she’d originally assumed.

They’re not friends, but he’s growing on her.

And then, of course, they’re assigned as partners for her art history class. She can’t contain the groan that escapes her lips. They were making progress and this is going to set them five steps back.

“Problem, Griffin?” Professor Wallace asks in his most unimpressed tone. One she is already all too familiar with.

She shrinks back into her seat and shakes her head as he goes on to assign Jasper (who’s been her desk partner all semester and someone she has grown to be close friends with) to a girl she doesn’t know. It’s incredibly unfair.

“Is there a problem, princess?” Bellamy asks when he takes Jasper’s seat a minute later.

“Not at all, Blake,” Clarke says, in the sweetest and most sarcastic voice she can muster. “I love working with entitled arseholes.”

“Coming in a bit harsh there, aren’t we?” He laughs and Clarke wants to kick him. He’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying watching her suffer.

“I think it’s reasonable,” she mutters, bringing up the project on her laptop so they can make a plan. Hopefully, they’ll get in done in the first few weeks so they won’t have to meet any more often than necessary. She’s not sure how much time she can spend alone with Bellamy without literally murdering him. And she’s not sure he’d be a body Raven would help her hide.

They end up arranging to meet in the library to work on the presentation on Thursday afternoon because it’s the only time they both have free. She’d rather not give up one of her only free afternoons that she shares with Harper, but as she’s just learnt, Bellamy is working two jobs. Which she respects. She can’t not. Her soulmate is doing the same.

The first time they meet, they argue over the topic they’re going to work on for over fifteen minutes. The one Bellamy wants to do seems unnecessarily difficult and she doesn’t see the point in working harder than they have to. They settle it over paper-scissors-rock, which she wins and spends a further ten minutes rubbing that in his face.

“We should probably do something productive,” Bellamy finally says. “At least plan out what we’re going to talk about for this dumb topic.”

Which is how they end up spending four hours a week together, working on their project. They start off mostly concentrating and getting the assigned tasks done but by the third week, Clarke is working harder on not laughing and distracting the people who are actually studying. Bellamy is telling a story about the time in high school he and his friend Murphy - who she learns is Emori’s soulmate - had snuck out and gotten lost. They’d had to wait until morning light to find their way home to unimpressed parents.

He tells her about his sister and she talks about her dad. They get to know each other and eventually she has to admit she was very wrong about him. He’s a genuinely good and funny person. He’s someone she gets along with easily, who she can tease and laugh with but also have a serious conversation. It’s the last thing she’d expected.

The only thing they don’t talk about is soulmates. Clarke knows why she doesn’t mention hers. Her situation is unlucky at best and dysfunctional at worst. She’s in love with someone whose name she doesn’t know and who has clearly stated that he’s not interested in soulmates. She’s not sure why Bellamy doesn’t talk about his, but she assumes it’s because it’s personal. Some people just want to keep that to themselves. And she understands that better than anyone.

He does remind her of her soulmate though. Sometimes he’ll say something that is so distinctly the boy who writes words on her skin that she has to stop for a second and remind herself who she’s talking to.

“You’re probably projecting,” Emori tells her. They’re sitting in the dining hall with Raven, Harper and Echo, and Clarke hasn’t stopped complaining about Bellamy for the last fifteen minutes. But it’s no longer because she can’t stand him. It’s for an entirely different reason.

“Yeah,” Echo says, more serious than Clarke was expecting. “Or maybe he’s your soulmate.”

Clarke laughs, because that would be too easy and they would have noticed by now. She still talks to her soulmate every night and when she can during the day. If it were Bellamy, she would have noticed by now. She’s never seen her words on Bellamy’s skin. She’s never seen his on hers.

“Yeah, right,” Clarke snorts. “I could be so lucky. My soulmate doesn’t want a soulmate.”

“Neither did Bellamy,” Echo says. “You should ask him about that sometime.”

“We don’t talk about soulmates,” Clarke says, not wanting to even entertain the idea that Echo could be right. She knows it’s just going to hurt when she eventually proves that she and Bellamy aren’t meant for each other. She thinks about talking to her actual soulmate about it. After all, he’s the one who has said that they’re only friends.

She doesn’t mention it to him though. It’s not like she’s in love with Bellamy or anything, it’s just a crush, but she doesn’t know how to bring it up. How does she tell the guy she’s in love with, who doesn’t love her and who she is meant to be with, that she’s maybe into someone else? It’s too much. She’s just going to ignore it until it goes away. Because that’s the healthiest way to deal with it.

“You could just ask his name,” Harper says, as they’re walking back to their dorm. “Then at least you would know for sure.”

“I can’t just ask his name,” Clarke sighs. They have an unwritten agreement. They don’t ask each others names. For Clarke, it would mean admitting that she wants something more. She’s not sure why he hasn’t asked hers, but she’s not going to question. Giving him a name would make it even more complicated.

Still, after Harper has gone to sleep that night, she sits cross legged on her bed with her pen hovering over her arm, reminding herself why she doesn’t just ask him. She’s using the light on her phone and she’s been sitting for so long trying to decide what to write, that she has to keep turning the screen back on. Why is this so hard for her? It’s four words.

Hope you had a good day, she eventually writes. Because she’s a chicken.

It was average. I’ve been working on a stupid paper all afternoon and my brain might have literally melted out my ears.

Clarke can’t help the quiet giggle that escapes as she draws a picture of a man with his brains leaking out of his ears.

Truly magnificent, he writes and she can almost hear the sarcasm in her head. She ignores the fact that it sounds like Bellamy. I should frame that and deliver it to The Louvre.

You should, Clarke agrees. Don’t forget to scoop up your brain first.

*

As winter approaches, Clarke finds herself talking to her soulmate more and more as she finds it easier to cover the skin on her arms. It makes it easier to write to him during class time, mundane messages and drawings about her day. He often sends messages about one of his professors that he can’t stand at the same time she has her least favourite class. It allows them to rant together. She notices Bellamy writing to his more, brief glances on ink on skin before he pulls his sleeves down.

She still avoids telling her soulmate any more about Bellamy. It’s a topic she doesn’t know how to bring up. She still really likes them both and her soulmate and Bellamy remind her of each other. Apparently her type is arseholes that she fights with, who have a secret big heart. She’s accepted this.

Towards the end of her first semester, she’s meeting her friends for a concert and for some reason, they allowed Jasper to convince them to walk to the venue. It’s not a long walk, but even in her coat, scarf and gloves, she’s shivering in the cold.

“Why did we let him convince us of this?” Harper complains, pulling her sleeves down further to cover her hands.

“He’s just excited,” Monty says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. They’d only met at the beginning of the school year and were already so close. Clarke’s happy for them. Even though she’s jealous. She wants that with her soulmate. Or with Bellamy. It’s too confusing. She tries not to think about it.

“We could be excited inside a taxi,” Raven grumbles. “And he’s the one who’s late.”

“He’s on his way,’ Monty says, looking up from his phone. “He was waiting for Bellamy to make sure he’d come.”

Clarke perks up when she hears Bellamy is definitely coming. They’d been debating whether or not he’d actually show up because he’d been in such a bad mood this week. Clarke’s sure it’s finals stress getting to him. It’s getting to all of them. A concert together will make them all feel better.

“Finally,” Raven shouts, five minutes later when she sees them turning onto the street. “If we stand out here any longer, we won’t even make it to the concert.”

“Bell,” Harper groans, “where are your gloves?” Always the mother hen.

Bellamy glances down as though Harper had reminded him he didn’t have them on. Clarke follows his gaze and her blood runs cold. Colder than it already was. Because on his hands are about a hundred tiny stars, identical to the ones she’d drawn on her own hand in boredom not even an hour ago. She can even see the bottom of the words cute, princess, which had been her soulmates response. His response. Bellamy’s her soulmate.

She's vaguely aware of him saying something about leaving his gloves in class yesterday and then someone teases him about the stars on his hand. He brushes them off and starts walking down the street, towards the venue she assumes. But Clarke is rooted to the spot. Bellamy’s her soulmate.

“Are you okay?” Echo asks, when the rest of the group has started following Bellamy and she still hasn’t moved.

“You knew,” she hisses. “Didn’t you?”

“I recognised your handwriting that first night, yeah,” Echo agrees. “I’d seen it often enough.” She doesn’t sound bitter, which Clarke didn’t expect. She almost sounds amused.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Clarke groans, running her hand through her hair.

“It wasn’t my place,” she shrugs. “I didn’t think it would take you idiots this long to figure out.”

“You can’t tell him,” Clarke says, a little desperately. “Not - not yet.”

“You’re not going to tell him?” Echo asks, brow furrowing together.

“I will,” Clarke says, shaking her head, trying to clear it. “Just, not yet.”

“Are you guys coming?” Jasper shouts, when he turns back and realises they haven’t moved. If he notices what Clarke is sure is tangible energy between them, he doesn’t say anything. Neither does Echo, just shakes her head and drags a very shellshocked Clarke back to the group.

Clarke keeps her gloves on, even as they walk inside the venue, where it is substantially warmer. She can’t risk anyone finding out what she just did. As soon as she gets the chance, she ducks into the bathroom alone to scrub the stars off her skin. She doesn’t want anyone else to make the connection until she’s at least had a chance to wrap her head around this. Preferably not until she’s had a chance to talk to Bellamy.

She leaves her gloves on once she’s out of the bathroom, her soulmate’s - Bellamy’s words are still on her wrist. When she sees him though, his hands are clean. It’s the confirmation she didn’t know she needed. She sinks into her seat at the end of the row, beside Jasper and groans quietly to herself. This is what she wanted. Only, now she has to do something about it.

“Move,” Raven says, nudging Jasper’s knee with the toe of her shoe until he gives in and swaps seats with her. She hands Clarke a drink, which she has no idea how Raven managed to get, considering the only one of age is Bellamy and he refuses to buy them alcohol in public. “You look like you could use this.”

“Thanks,” Clarke says, taking a long drink.

“What’s wrong?” Raven asks, when Clarke doesn’t elaborate or deny something is wrong.

“Nothing,” Clarke insists. But her lie is feeble, even to her own ears.

“Bull,” Raven says, this time kicking at Clarke’s ankles. “Was it seeing the drawing on Bellamy’s hand earlier? I know it must suck.”

For a second, Clarke considers telling Raven the truth. That she’d just found out Bellamy is her soulmate. That it was her drawing on his hand. But she can’t. She wants to make sure she’s the one that eventually tells Bellamy. Echo already knows before he does, it would just make it worse if she told Raven too.

So Clarke hums in agreement and allows Raven to sit next to her and tell her about how her soulmate is eventually going to realise how special she is. It does make her feel a little better, because taken out of context, her words are comforting.

*

It’s almost one in the morning by the time the taxi drops Harper and Clarke back to their dorm room. Clarke is grumbling because she’s a little moody from the whole situation and because she has to get up early to meet Bellamy to finish their project.

She’s smiling at the goodnight message that her soulmate has written on her arm when it really hits her. Bellamy is her soulmate. Bellamy was the boy who drew pictures for her throughout her childhood. Bellamy was the person writing notes on his hand, that Clarke drew over so he wouldn’t forget. Bellamy was the boy that she was the only person to say happy birthday to, all those years ago. Bellamy is the person that has become her best friend over the years. Bellamy is the person she’s in love with. Bellamy is her soulmate.

But that also means that Bellamy is the one who told her that he doesn’t want a soulmate. That they were just friends. That he chooses his own destiny.

And then he is also the person who Echo broke up with because he was ‘hung up on his soulmate.’ Is that just something that he told her to make the breakup easier? No. He wouldn’t do that to her. He’s not that kind of person.

So which is the truth? And how is she going to tell him?

*

It takes Clarke a minute to remember why she feels so stressed about meeting Bellamy when she wakes up late Thursday morning. And when it all comes rushing back to her, she thinks about cancelling their study date. But it’s the last one and although she’s terrified to be alone with him, she’s not looking forward to them ending.  

She gets to the library at 4:30, half an hour earlier than they’re meant to meet. So she is earlier than Bellamy for once because she wants to be prepared for when he arrives. She’s not going to tell him that they’re soulmates in the school library, but she needs to be ready. She somehow needs to act normal around him.

“You’re never early,” Bellamy says, jolting her back to reality. She’s still not prepared. “Are you sick?”

“No,” Clarke snaps, all too aware of how overly defensive she sounds. “I was bored, I thought I might be able to do something productive while I waited for you.”

“Right,” he says slowly, probably just to wind her up. Normally she’d laugh with him, but she’s too on edge. “Let’s just finish this. I’ll buy coffee after to celebrate.”

“Was that you offering do to something nice?” Clarke asks, doing her best to keep her tone light. “Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“Shut up, Griffin.”

It takes a few hours of Clarke being weird, but sure enough, by the time they normally leave the library, they’re back to arguing again. It's not the normal she was aiming for, but it is normal for them. Clarke is pretty sure that it’s because she’s trying too hard to seem normal and apparently arguing with Bellamy is her default setting. She almost just wants to shout what she knows, just to get it out in the open.

“Guess you’re just not used to getting your own way, huh princess?” Bellamy asks. Even though the argument is mostly her fault, it’s the coldest he’s been towards her in weeks and she’s a little taken aback. She didn’t think this argument was that serious.

“You know that’s not true,” Clarke snaps back. He knows her pretty well by now and it hurts that he thinks that. And he knows her, separately, as his soulmate. He may not know it yet, but he knows her better than anyone. “I just think this is the best way to present it.”

“Well, I don’t,” he mutters. “You could at least consider that I might be right.”

“I have,” she says angrily. A part of her knows that it’s unfair for her to keep fighting him on this, but she can’t stop. She hates being called entitled. Especially because she’s not. And he knows it.

“It sure as hell doesn’t seem like it,” he says angrily as his phone starts to ring. He fishes it out of his pocket and snaps into the receiver. “What?”

Clarke turns her attention back to her computer screen, not wanting Bellamy to think she’s eavesdropping. She doesn’t need him to be mad at her for that too.

“I’ve got to go,” Bellamy says to her, drawing her attention away from the presentation and back to him. He’s hung up the phone and looking even more flustered than before.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asks, her anger evaporating. Now that she knows he’s her soulmate, she also knows exactly what could be wrong. And that from the look on his face, it’s probably one of his friends that needs his help.

“O, my sister, Octavia,” he says, shoving things into his backpack and not looking at Clarke. Of course, she knows his sister is ‘O,’ that’s how he refers to her when he writes messages. It’s another connection she should have made weeks ago. “She’s in trouble.”

“Doesn’t she live back,” Clarke pauses, realising she doesn’t know where either of the Bellamy’s she knows is from.

“Three hours away, yeah.”

“Is there someone else who can help her?” Clarke asks, knowing the answer before she speaks. Bellamy has always said it’s only ever been him and his sister His mother is just there for appearances and both their fathers had always been gone. Leaving his sister had killed him, but as a younger Bellamy had told his soulmate, getting a job after graduating college is how he makes sure she gets through college.

“No,” Bellamy mutters, running his hands through his hair. “It’s… complicated.”

“How are you going to get to her?” She asks softly, making sure there is no anger in her voice. She doesn’t want to fight him now. And she knows Bellamy doesn’t have a car.

“Fuck,” he says, frantically typing on his laptop. “No buses until tomorrow.”

“I’ll drive you,” Clarke decides after a moment. If it’s that important that he gets there, Bellamy will find a way. And she’d rather it not be hitchhiking. Raven will let her borrow her car with only a small lecture.

Bellamy doesn’t even argue the case, just blindly shoves his belongings into his bag and follows Clarke out of the library. It’s a testament to how desperately he wants to get to his sister.

They don’t speak as they walk to Raven’s apartment. If Bellamy knows what her plan is, he doesn’t say anything. She lets them into Raven’s apartment, using the key she had stolen from their fruit bowl in the first week of moving. Neither Raven or Emori is home, so Clarke scrawls a note using an untouched memo pad sitting on the counter. She wonders for a moment if Bellamy recognises her handwriting but he still doesn’t say anything.

When she turns back to him, he’s pacing the apartment, ignoring her.

“Is she okay?” Clarke asks, snatching Raven’s car keys off the hook on the wall. She’s going to be so mad that Clarke took the car, but she’ll understand. When Clarke explains everything.

“Yeah, it’s just,” he sighs, “I never should have left her alone. She’s only fifteen.”

She frowns to herself as she locks the apartment again, trying to remember what this Bellamy has told her about his family. She knows the Bellamy that is her soulmate has told her everything. But the Bellamy standing beside her, the Bellamy that she’s supposed to know, hasn’t.

“What do you mean?” Clarke settles on. It’s the safest answer.

“Our mum… isn’t great,” he tells her, as they speed walk down the staircases and into the parking garage. “She’s doing better though and I thought I could leave Octavia there, just while I finished college. She should have been fine, but she's acting out because I'm gone.”

“And something has happened?” Clarke presses when Bellamy pauses. She knows that his mum is flighty, often disappearing for weeks at a time. He’s never told her where she went, but Clarke has always had suspicions.

“No, not with mum,” Bellamy sighs. “Octavia has been hanging out with kids I don’t like. Now she’s at some stupid party and she’s been drinking and I need to go get her.” Clarke thinks it’s probably not up to him to drive three hours to pick up his sister, but it’s not her place to say that. Not even as his soulmate.

“Does she have a soulmate?” Clarke asks, after they’ve been driving for fifteen minutes. She’s curious.

“No,” Bellamy says, “not that I know about. It would be good for her though, having someone to talk to. I couldn’t have survived living in that house if I didn’t have mine.”

His words feel like a physical blow and Clarke suddenly feels worse for not telling him what she knows. Who she is. This is something he is telling her as his friend, not his soulmate.

“Mine was a life saver too,” Clarke whispers, because it’s true. If she hadn’t had her soulmate, if she hadn’t had Bellamy, she’s not sure how she would have coped with the loss of her dad.

“I was such an arsehole when I first found out,” Bellamy continues, nodding his head at Clarke to acknowledge what she’d said.”But it was because of my mum. Her soulmate wasn’t my dad. But they found each other not long after my dad and he was mad that she’d had a kid with someone else. He used it against her, threw it in her face every time they fought. And it gave me a really toxic view of soulmates.”

“Oh my god, Bellamy,” Clarke gasps, glancing over at him. “I’m so sorry.” A lot of their relationship as soulmates is suddenly clicking into place. Why he didn’t want to be her friend at first and why later he was so insistent that they were only friends. The only time he had ever seen a soulmate was his mother’s, who was nothing like what you would expect from the person who is supposed to be everything for someone. Right now would be the perfect time to tell him what she knows, while they’re talking about soulmates. But he’s so stressed about his sister already. She can’t do it.

“Don’t be,” Bellamy shrugs, staring unblinkingly at the road ahead of them. “He left when I was still pretty young. And my own soulmate let me know that I was being dumb when we were still teenagers.”

“What’s she like?” Clarke asks, before she can stop herself. It’s a stupid question, one she’s going to have to admit to asking when she eventually tells Bellamy the truth about what she knows.

“She’s great, my best friend,” Bellamy says simply. Clarke wants to groan, because she can tell that it’s not all he wants to say on the subject but knows he’s not going to continue. God damn him, for keeping his personal life to himself. God damn her for knowing what she knows. God damn this whole situation. “What’s yours like?”

“I’m in love with him,” Clarke tells him, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She tries to gauge his reaction but he’s still looking at the road. And it’s not like she’s just told him that she loves him. She’s told him that she loves her soulmate. Which she had been honest about since the first night at the party anyway.

“Are you ever going to meet him?” Bellamy asks. His voice doesn’t give anything away and she has to remind herself that she doesn’t know who she is.

“I hope so,” she says, after a moments silence. It’s a lie and she feels awful. She’s already met him and she knows it. And he deserves to know the same thing.

The rest of the drive passes in companionable silence. She’s not sure what to say to him now that she’s technically told him she’s in love with him. It’s not awkward though. Bellamy is texting his sister, quietly letting Clarke know that she’s okay every so often. They really are friends.

It’s eleven by the time Bellamy starts directing her down quiet streets and side roads, so they must be getting close. She’s grateful because she’s exhausted. The late night, soulmate realisation, stupid argument and hours of driving are beginning to catch up with her. She’s going to have to risk Raven’s wrath and ask Bellamy to drive home.

The house they pull in front of is old and run down, but there is loud music and bright lights coming from inside. There is also a young girl sitting on the sidewalk, looking a little worse for wear but okay. Octavia looks up at the car with a fiery look in her eyes, as though she’s ready to take on the world. A look of relief relaxes her features though when she notices Bellamy in the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry,” she says, as soon as she opens the door. “I was stupid and I never should have even gone to the stupid party.”

“It doesn’t excuse anything, O,” Bellamy sighs. “But at least you know. Turn left up here.” He adds when Clarke pulls away from the curb.

“I’m sorry,” she says again. She sounds so much smaller than Clarke expected. As though she acts tough until her brother steps in. Which Clarke suspects is probably true. She can imagine a younger Bellamy stepping in for his sister, probably getting into fights, judging by the stories he has told her.

“What happened?” Bellamy finally asks, after a minute of uncomfortable silence.

“I was with Atom,” Octavia says, “I know you don’t like him but he’s friends with all my friends and he’s not a bad guy. Just his friends are.”

“He’s three years older than you, O,” Bellamy says. “He’s a criminal.”

“He stole one time and he didn’t even get charged,” Octavia says, with an air of someone who’s had this argument more than once. “Anyway, I lost him at the party. It was my fault, he said he was leaving and I said I’d catch up. I didn’t realise he meant he was actually leaving.”

“He left you at a party?” Bellamy asks, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the seat.

“No, he wanted me to come,” Octavia insists. “But I didn’t and then I was stuck with a bunch of people I don’t know and we were all drinking but they were doing - other stuff.”

“For fuck sake,” Bellamy mutters. “You did the right thing calling me. But you shouldn’t have even been there, O.”

“Please don’t tell mum,” she says so quietly that Clarke almost doesn’t catch it.

“You know I have to,” Bellamy says. “I won’t tell her you were drinking.”

The rest of the drive passes in awkward silence, save for Bellamy’s occasional directions. It’s almost midnight by the time Bellamy tells her to pull into the driveway of an old house. It’s too dark to really see anything but Bellamy gets out, so Clarke follows him.

“Go get cleaned up and go to bed,” Bellamy tells Octavia, a clear dismissal. She doesn’t skip a beat, scurrying up the front porch steps and into the house.

“What’s the plan?” Clarke asks, trying not to yawn. She’s exhausted.

“We can’t drive back, it’s too late,” Bellamy says after a moment. “Come inside. We can stay here.”

Clarke thinks about protesting, but she’s way too tired to drive and the sooner she gets to sit down and sort through her thoughts the better. So she nods and follows him onto the porch and into the house. It’s dark but Bellamy leads the way down the hall and up a flight of stairs.

“You can sleep in here,” he says, pushing open one of the doors and switching on a light. It’s pretty clearly his bedroom, there are a bunch of nerdy books stacked on the dresser and video games that she’s seen him play with Murphy. She can’t help it when her brain goes straight to imagining a younger Bellamy in this room, writing messages to her on her skin. It’s a little much for her to handle.

“I can’t take your room,” Clarke says, shaking her head. It’s too imposing.

“Sure you can,” Bellamy shrugs, opening one of his draws and throwing a shirt at her and taking one for himself. “Unless you want to wake up on the couch to my eccentric mother at five am.”

“Bellamy,” she says, picking up the shirt and running the soft, worn fabric through her fingers. She’s going to be wearing his clothes as pyjamas. She’s got to tell him what she knows.

“Shut up, Clarke,” he says, a small smile on his face. “Go to sleep, we’ll leave in the morning.”

He pulls the door shut behind him and she can hear him letting himself into the room beside her. He can hear him quietly talking to his sister, so she focuses on changing into his shirt and taking off her jeans. She takes her charger out of her purse and sends a message to Harper saying she won’t be home and one to Raven, saying she stole her car.

She gets a reply from Harper telling her to be safe and one from Raven saying that she hates her.

She’s almost asleep when she feels the prickling on her arm that lets her know that Bellamy has written to her. That he’s laying downstairs thinking about her. His best friend.

O got drunk tonight and I had to drive three hours to come get her. Is murder allowed under these circumstances?

No, she writes back. Don’t murder your sister... Unless there are pens in prison.

There would be. But I would also be in prison, he writes back. She’s fine, but I dragged one of my friends up here and now she probably thinks I’m crazy and overprotective.

She’s not wrong, Clarke writes back, because teasing her soulmate and teasing Bellamy is something she can’t help. But I’m sure she understands.

She’s been really good about it, he writes and Clarke freezes. She’s got to tell him before he tells his soulmate something he doesn’t want Clarke to know. She drove me down here. She’s one of my favourite people.

I’m glad you didn’t have to freak out alone, she writes back, choosing not to dwell on the fact that he’d called her one of his favourite people.

Me too, Bellamy writes. I wanted you to be here though. Her heart basically stops, because he’s never said that he wants to meet her until now. And it’s something that she’s wanted for a long time. The guilt is really eating at her now. It would be so easy to go downstairs and tell him the truth, but it just doesn’t feel like the right time. She's not ready. 

I would have liked to be there, she writes. Because it’s the closest thing to the truth she can come up with.

One day, he writes. And she’s still thinking about telling him when he writes again. How was your day?

One day... I found out something that I should tell a good friend and I haven’t yet, she writes. Her soulmate is who she normally goes to for advice. Maybe he can help her with this. The longer I wait the worse it’s going to be and I don’t know how to tell him?

Is it bad? He writes back, pretty much instantly. If he’s really your friend, he’ll understand.

It’s just something that I should have shared as soon as I found out, she writes. Because it’s the truth. She should have told him the second she found out. But I don’t know how to tell him.

Just tell him when you get the chance, he writes back. I need to get some sleep. Early morning. Have a good night.

Clarke wishes Bellamy goodnight and then sends him a text as well.

*

She wakes up the next morning to Bellamy gently knocking on the door.

“Come in,” she calls, fumbling to cover her leg with the blankets. She doesn’t want Bellamy to find out they’re soulmates by reading the writing about him on her skin. She will tell him. She will.

“Get up,” he says, “I made pancakes and coffee and then we’ll head off.”

“Let me get dressed,” Clarke smiles. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

As promised, when she gets downstairs Bellamy has cooked pancakes, topped with fresh berries that she has a feeling he had already been out to get. Octavia is sitting at the table, on what appears to be her second plate of food.

“Mum already left,” Octavia says, when she sees Clarke lingering in the doorway and looking around the kitchen. “But I totally got grilled for sneaking out already. So I deserve these pancakes.”

“Seems fair,” Clarke lies. Octavia definitely needs to just be grounded for like a month.

Bellamy drops a plate in front of Clarke and a coffee that is exactly the way she orders, so he clearly pays attention to her.

“We’ll leave straight after breakfast,” Bellamy tells her. “I messaged Raven to let her know her car is okay. She told me she’s going to kill you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Clarke laughs.

The drive home feels quicker than the drive to pick Octavia up and it’s probably because they’re joking and laughing. Clarke thinks about telling him, but they’re having fun and just being friends. It’s still not the right time.

Clarke returns the car to Raven’s parking garage and Bellamy walks her back to her dorm.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Bellamy says, when they’re almost back. “I actually had a good time, aside from lecturing my brat sister.”

“Of course,” Clarke says, “I couldn’t have you getting murdered while hitchhiking. Or actually being the one murdering your sister.” She freezes, suddenly remembering that it was Bellamy as her soulmate that had told her that. Not the Bellamy she is standing in front of. He looks at her weirdly for a second but then shakes his head, as if dismissing a thought.

“I’ll see you over the weekend?” Bellamy asks, leaning in to give her a quick hug.

“Yeah, for sure,” she smiles, letting herself melt into the hug a little. It’s the first time he’s hugged her as Bellamy and it’s her first hug from her soulmate. It’s a lot for her to think about. And something she needs to work out before she sees him again.

And so she doesn’t see Bellamy on the weekend. In fact, she avoids him for the entirety of the next week. She doesn’t go to brunch with their friends, she skips out on their art history class and emails him her half of their presentation. She doesn’t answer his texts and she even starts to avoid the rest of her friends.

She does talk to Bellamy as her soulmate though. She writes to him more than ever. And he complains to her, about herself avoiding him.

I just don’t get why she’s avoiding me, Bellamy writes, while she is supposed to be in class with him. It seemed to be going fine. 

I’m sure it’s not what you’ve done, she replies with. Because it’s the truth. He hasn’t done anything. She’s the one being an idiot. 

Easy for you to say, he replies. You’re not the one being avoided. I just miss her.

It gets hard to avoid him, the more he tells her how much he misses his friend. The more she realises how much she likes Bellamy as just Bellamy. Bellamy and her soulmate are feeling more and more like the same person. 

It isn’t until she gets a message from Echo that she really figures out how selfish she’s being.

You can’t avoid him forever. He misses you.

And she’s right. How long is she going to act like nothing's wrong? How long until one of her friends comes to find her and asks what’s happening? Until one of them guesses what's happening? Guesses who she's really avoiding. She’s got to tell him. She’s got to do it now.

It’s late and she should probably wait until morning. But she’s feeling brave now, so she doesn’t even change out of her leggings, just slips her feet into her boots and grabs her coat. It’s going to be cold, but most of the trip to his apartment will be on the subway.

She’s nervous the entire trip over, bouncing her leg up and down and probably driving the person sitting next to crazy. She’s doesn’t even know what she’s going to say to him. Or how he’s going to react. But it has to happen. 

She’s standing at the entrance to his apartment building before she’s ready. She’s going to do this. She's going to tell him. She jogs up the stairs, foregoing to the elevator because she’s too full of nervous energy. She knocks on the door and is immediately tempted to run, but then she hears him moving inside. So she waits.

“Hi,” Clarke says, a little out of breath when he opens the door. He’s only wearing sweatpants, his bare chest distracting for a second. But then she remembers what she’s doing here and gives herself a reality check. Who cares if he’s attractive if he turns her down once he realises who she is? What if Echo was wrong and he’s not hung up on his soulmate? What if she’s somehow wrong and he’s not her soulmate? Anyone could have drawn stars on his hand. She didn’t really have time to compare them to her own before she washed them off.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his brow furrowed as he steps aside to let her in. She’s never been in his apartment alone before. It’s just making her more nervous.

“Do you have a pen?” She asks. It’s going to be easier to show him than to tell him. And she didn’t grab her bag when she left, so she doesn’t have one of her own.

“You came across town to borrow a pen?” He asks, leading her into the kitchen. “We haven’t spoken in over a week and you came to borrow a pen?” He hands her a blue pen, probably the one he uses when he writes to her.

“Not really,” she says. She holds the pen to the palm of her hand very deliberately and writes, Bellamy. She can see the moment he feels the words appear on his own hand because his facial expression changes from vaguely confused to shocked. He looks down at his own hand and blindly reaches for hers, drawing it up so they’re both level and he can see what she knows is the matching handwriting.

“Thank god,” he mumbles, pulling her closer and intertwining their hands with his name on it. His other hand comes up to cup her jaw. “It was getting really old having feelings for you and my soulmate.”

“You have feelings for me?” She asks, unable to help the giggle that escapes her lips.

“Apparently for much longer than I thought,” he says, leaning forward so their foreheads are touching. 

“I haven’t been into you that long,” Clarke grins, dizzy with excitement and anticipation. This is already going better than she could have hoped for. He's not even mad at her. “But I’ve been into my soulmate for at least two years.”

“Shut up, princess,” Bellamy says, shaking his head and pulling her closer still. She’s used to fond, exasperated tone by now, but coming from her soulmate is something else entirely. She loves it.

"Do you just throw princess around to all the girls?" She teases, even though now is entirely the wrong time.

"Only ever to you," he says softly. "My soulmate." 

She’s the one who closes the distance between them, standing on her toes so she can bring her lips softly to his.

"I'm so glad it's you," she whispers, leaning forward to kiss him again gently. 

"So am I." 

Chapter Text

Bellamy throws Clarke a shirt from his draw. Even though it’s been over two years since he lived at home and wore it, it’s still a lot, thinking about her in it. Which is confusing, because he really thought he was in love with his soulmate. But he’s never had a friend who would be willing to drive so far, just to check up on his bratty sister. He’s sure his soulmate would. But so did Clarke. 

It kind of hurts his head thinking about it. So he tries not too. Clarke and his soulmate are different people who have nothing to do with each other. 

He wishes her goodnight, before he can say anything stupid and heads downstairs to sleep on the couch. 

As he lays down, he pulls the pen he always carries out of his pocket to write to his soulmate. He wishes he knew her name. He wishes he hadn’t been so abrasive when he was so young. He’d probably feel less weird about asking for her name. Or about asking to meet her. But it’s not the kind of relationship they have. Which sucks. But it’s his fault. 

O got drunk tonight and I had to drive three hours to come get her. Is murder allowed under these circumstances? She knows exactly about the relationship he has with his sister. That he’d basically raised her. She’ll understand. 

No, she writes back. Don’t murder your sister. Unless there are pens in prison. 

Bellamy laughs softly. At least she definitely wants to talk to him. Condoning murder, only if he can still write to her. There would be. But I would also be in prison . She’s fine, but I dragged one of my friends up here and now she probably thinks I’m crazy and overprotective.

She’s not wrong. But I’m sure she understands. 

She’s been really good about it, he writes. He’s never really spoken to his soulmate about Clarke, except when he was complaining about her, when they first met. He considers asking his soulmate what he should do about his feelings for her. But even as he has that thought, he’s not sure who he’s talking about. So he settles for just being grateful. Grateful Clarke came with him and understood. Grateful he has a soulmate that understands and is willing to put up with his shit. She drove me down here. She’s one of my favourite people. 

I’m glad you didn’t have to freak out alone, she writes back. He smiles because she’s right. He would have had an absolute meltdown if he was alone. 

Me too, Bellamy writes. I wanted it to be you though. He’s feeling brave and a little regretful of how he had started their relationship. Maybe he can put the feelers out. Maybe he can find out if she wants to meet him as bad as he wants to meet her. 

I would have liked to be there , she writes. It makes his heart swoop a little. 

One day, he writes, bravely. And then because he’s not really that brave he changes the subject. How was your day? 

She tells him that she found out something she should’ve told a friend and she hasn’t yet. He’s not sure what she’s talking about, but he tries to be a supportive friend. She’s a little dramatic, he’s known that forever, so he’s sure it’s not that bad .  

When she says goodnight, she signs her message with a heart. He smiles at it for a little too long before switching off the light. Then he imagines Clarke, drawing the same heart on her wrist, as it appeared on his. 

He needs to sort this out. 

*

Bellamy spends the drive back to campus reminding himself Clarke is in love with her soulmate. The person she is meant to be with. So her soft smile at him, doesn’t mean what he wants it to mean. They’re just friends. 

When they get back to campus, Clarke makes a comment about him not murdering Octavia. He freezes for a moment, because he’d said that to his soulmate. And she can’t be. He’d know by now. 

He dismisses it pretty quickly. He’d been a mess yesterday. He definitely could’ve said something like that in the car on the way there and forgotten about it. It doesn’t mean anything. So he lets himself give her a hug goodbye, lingering a little when she doesn’t pull away. 

“I’ll see you over the weekend?” He asks, smiling softly when she nods. 

*

But he doesn’t see her in the coming days. He doesn’t even hear from her. 

“Have you heard from Clarke?” Bellamy asks at brunch (honestly, he hates that his friends insist on having brunch, but doesn’t want to miss the catch up. He definitely has FOMO.). He’s aiming for nonchalance but he’s not sure he makes it. 

“Haven't you?” Echo asks, looking a little more put out than the situation really warrants. 

“Not since I had to rescue Octavia,” he admits. He’d told his friends that Clarke had come with him and there had been a reasonable amount of heckling about it. Not that they really understand what they’re heckling. They have no idea about his complicated feelings for Clarke and his soulmate are. 

“She’s probably realised you’re a crazy person,” Raven teases. He knows she’s joking, but it hits a little hard. He knows he’s weird about his sister. He’d thought Clarke understood though. But perhaps he’s confusing her with his soulmate. They’re getting incredibly jumbled in his thoughts. 

“I’m sure she’s just busy,” Harper says softly, ever comforting.

He nods his head, moodily stabbing a tomato with his fork. And remembering how much both Clarke and his soulmate hate them. No wonder he keeps getting them confused. 

*

Bellamy’s looking forward to his Art History class, if only to see Clarke and finally hand in their presentation. 

She’s not there when he arrives, so he sits down at their usual desk and checks his emails. 

Not feeling well, sorry, Clarke has sent, attaching her half of the presentation. He frowns, as he combines the files to hand in. It’s so unlike her to not be here, controlling how he puts together the last pieces of their assignment. And she’d hardly even offered an explanation. 

He doesn’t reply to her email, he doesn’t know how. But he does take a pen to his arm, writing to his soulmate. 

I think my friend who came with me to save O hates me. 

I’m sure she doesn’t, his soulmate writes back. Why do you think that? 

She’s bailed on me and she hasn’t messaged me back and she skipped class when we have this project due. And she’s such a control freak, she should be here making sure I’ve done it right. 

I’m sure she’s not as much of a control freak as you, she writes. He smiles a little, the familiar slant of her writing is comforting, even if he’s still stressing about Clarke. But maybe it’s not something you’ve done. Maybe it’s something she’s done?

But why would that mean she ignores me? He’s whining and he knows she can tell even through his writing but he just doesn’t get it. They’d been so good on the drive and now she’s just disappeared. 

It kind of feels like the time his soulmate had stopped talking to him because she blamed her father’s death on their friendship. Which is a lot to think about, because he’d been old enough to know he had a crush on her then and now the same thing is happening with a different girl he’s into. 

He’s going to need therapy. 

*

When Raven sends invites out to drinks at her apartment it’s been another week since Bellamy’s heard from Clarke. He doesn’t really want to go but there’s a chance Clarke will be there and she probably can’t ignore him in front of their friends. 

He’s getting ready when he feels the familiar prickling on his arm. 

Got plans tonight? 

I’m gonna have drinks at one of my friends. Figured I should stop moping and get out of the house. 

The first step is admitting you have a problem. He hates that he imagines Clarke’s teasing as he reads the message. 

I know I have a problem, he writes back, drawing in a snarky face. 

I’m just staying in tonight, she writes. 

They write back and forth for a while, him bitching about going out and her telling him not to bitch when he made the choice to hang out with his friends. It’s great to talk to her but confusing because while he writes, he thinks of Clarke. 

And he knows it’s not fair on either of them. 

He can’t be in love with his soulmate and his friend. He can’t do that to either of them. 

“What did you do to Clarke?” Raven asks, as she lets him into her apartment. She’s obviously not here and he feels the sting of disappointment. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Bellamy mutters, helping himself to a beer from Raven’s fridge. 

“We’ll she’s basically been AWOL since that trip with you,” Raven presses. 

“I’m honestly as confused as you,” he tells her. “And I miss her.” It slips out. He didn’t really want to tell Raven that, but a flash of realisation crosses her face. 

“Oh my god,” she says. “You’re into her.”

“Yeah,” he admits. Maybe it’ll be good to talk about it. “I am.”

“Buy your soulmate? Echo said you guys broke up because you’re into her.”

“Yeah,” he says again, “I am.”

“Fuck your life,” Raven says, as supportive as ever. 

“Thanks, real helpful.” 

“I don’t envy you,” Raven says. “I don’t even have any good advice to offer. But you know Clarke is into her soulmate as well.”

“Yes,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m well aware of that. It’s not like I did this on purpose.”

“Have you spoken to her about it? Is that why she’s not here?”

“No,” he says. “I don’t know why she’s not here. I don’t know what I did.”

“Best I’ve got is offering you another beer,” Raven says. 

“Thanks.” While Raven was entirely unhelpful, it’s nice to have told someone. And maybe when she’s sober, she’ll have some better advice. 

He tries not to stand in the corner brooding, but it’s hard. He’s grumpy and the alcohol isn’t helping. Even Murphy notices. 

“Reyes says you’re having feelings and I should come talk to you.”

Bellamy snorts. “As articulate as ever.”

“You know it,” Murphy says. “Feelings suck, but if you need to talk about anything, you know I’m all ears.”

“Thanks, man,” Bellamy says. “But I’m alright. Just a sucky situation.”

“If Reyes asks, we spoke about it,” Murphy nods, leaning on the wall next to him and changing the subject. He snorts again, but he really does appreciate his friends. Even if they’re not really any help. 

He manages to sneak away from Raven’s not much later. All he wants to do is go to bed. 

He misses Clarke. It’s been over a week since she stopped speaking to him and he has no idea why. He thinks about writing to his soulmate about it, but speaking about them both tonight has just left him confused. He really needs to do something about this. 

He falls asleep toying with the idea that they’re the same person. That would make his life so much easier. He wouldn’t have to think so hard. 

But they can’t be. 

Clarke is in love with her soulmate.

And his soulmate wants to choose her own destiny. 

*

His mood hasn’t really improved by the time he wakes up the next morning. But he decides he’s done enough moping. He writes a good morning message on his arm and signs it with a little heart and then he leaves his apartment to order coffee. 

He’s sitting at a table at the back of his favourite cafe and reading a book when someone drops down in front of him. Raven. 

“So you’re into Clarke?”

“I came here to not think about that,” he says, not looking up because he knows it will annoy her. 

“I just came to remind you that you both have soulmates,” she says gently. She’s not phased by the fact he didn’t look at her and that’s more annoying than what she’s saying.

“My soulmate isn’t into me,” he shrugs. “We’re friends.” 

“That’s what I said, before I met Zeke.” 

“She doesn’t want me like that,” Bellamy says, finally looking up at her. “It’s not the same.”

“It could be one day,” Raven continues. “For both you and Clarke. Don’t get into something with her that isn’t going to be forever. Neither of you deserve that.” 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” It’s kind of insulting Raven thinks he just wants to have something with Clarke until their soulmates come onto the scene. She means more to him than that. 

“I know,” she tells him. “I just needed to say it. Have you spoken to her about it?” She nods at his arm, where their morning conversation is visible beneath his rolled up sleeve.

“Not really. I’ve just told her that my friend isn’t talking to me,” he says. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where you considered Clarke a friend.” 

“She’s different than I thought.” 

“She is,” Raven nods. “She’s different than I first thought too. Talk to your soulmate about how you feel. Maybe she’ll have some advice.”

“How do I talk to her about that?” He grumbles. “I don’t even know her name.”

“You don’t know her name?” Raven asks. She looks shocked. And a little like she’s thinking, which is always terrifying. 

“When we first found out, I told her I didn’t want a soulmate. I was a dick,” he says. He never really spoke about it with his friends. He always thought it was his business. But right now he could use all the advice he could get. “But I was a kid. I didn’t know any better.”

“And you never asked?”

“I didn’t know how to. It took us years to start actually speaking.”

“Does she know yours?” Raven looks excited and Bellamy wants to bang his head on the table. He hates when she has a plan. 

“No.”

They sit in silence for a moment before Raven says suddenly, “Right. I have to go. I’m meeting Clarke. I’m going to ask her what’s going on.”

He almost asks her not to, but he wants answers more. Even if they come secondhand from Raven. He tells her goodbye before sticking his nose back in his book. But he can’t concentrate anymore. He’s too preoccupied. 

*

Bellamy’s only just stepping out of the shower when he hears a knock at the door. It’s late, way too late for visitors, which is concerning. He doesn’t even grab a shirt, just opens the door. 

“Hi,” Clarke says. She’s out of breath and not dressed for the November chill outside. And she’s standing in front of him after almost two weeks of radio silence.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, confusion evident on his face. She looks nervous and it’s already making him antsy. 

“Do you have a pen?” She asks. It doesn’t clear anything up, just makes him more confused. 

“You came across town to borrow a pen?” He steps into the kitchen and takes the one he had been writing to his soulmate with from the bench. “We haven’t spoken in over a week and you came to borrow a pen?” 

“Not really,” she says. He raises his eyebrows as she holds up one hand and begins writing on it. It’s really cruel to talk to her soulmate in front of him right now. Even if she doesn’t know how he feels about her.

But then he feels it, the familiar prickling on the palm of his hand. And there is no way that his soulmate is writing to him at the same time that she’s writing to hers. And on the same body and part. He looks down at his own hand and reaches for hers. He’s seeing the familiar handwriting on his palm, with an unfamiliar world. Bellamy . The writing on Clarke’s hand is the same. The writing on his soulmate's hand is the same. Clarke is his soulmate.

“Thank god,” he says, tugging on the hand he’s holding and pulling her closer, intertwining their fingers on the hand with his name on it. “It was getting really old having feelings for you and my soulmate.” 

“You have feelings for me?” She asks, with a small giggle. 

“Apparently for much longer than I thought.” It’s a confession. Telling her as Clarke that he has feelings for her and telling his soulmate that he has for a long time. He leans forward so his head is resting against her. It’s more than he ever dared to hope for.

“I haven’t been into you for that long,” Clarke teases, the same confession leaving her lips. She likes him. “But I’ve been into my soulmate for at least two years.”

“Shut up, princess,” he grins, shaking his head and pulling her closer.

She stands on her toes, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips against his. It’s soft and sweet and everything he wanted from both his soulmate and Clarke. He can’t even wrap his head around how happy he is that she is both of those things. 

“Do you just throw princess around to all the girls?” She says, when she pulls back. It’s only far enough away to speak to him but he misses the contact immediately. 

“Only ever to you,” he says. And of course he’d given her the nickname. She’s his soulmate. She’s the girl he’s been calling princess since he was eleven years old. “My soulmate.” 

“I’m so glad it’s you,” she says quietly, kissing him again. 

“So am I,” he says, just as softly when she pulls back.

They look at each other and he doesn’t know how much time passes by. He can’t believe this has worked out the way it has. How can this Clarke in front of him, be the person he’s been writing to since he was a child? The girl who was his best friend when he had no one else? The girl who wrote to him every day? Who wrote over his reminders in case they washed off? Who drew him a birthday cake the year his mum forgot? How can he possibly be so lucky?

“How’d you figure it out?” He asks eventually. 

“I saw the stars on your hand,” she says, looking away from him. “At the concert.”

“That was…” Bellamy thinks for a moment. The concert had been well before he’d gone to rescue Octavia. She’d known when he was telling her how he felt about his soulmate. “Clarke, that was weeks ago.”

“I know, I wanted to tell you,” she pauses and ducks her head and pulls away slightly. He doesn’t let go though. He’s not sure he’s ever going to, “but I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” He asks softly. He’s not mad and he can tell she thinks he is. He’s not sure what he would have done if he figured it out first. It’s such an unknown situation. He can’t blame her for being unsure. 

“You said you didn’t want a soulmate.”

“I was eleven, princess,” he says, pulling her back to him and pressing his lips to her head. “And then I was an awkward teenager who didn’t know how to ask you about them.”

“You never even asked my name,” she laughs a little nervously. It’s not a dig. It’s just a fact. 

“You never asked mine.”

“I guess we were both dumb,” she says. “We could’ve known at the start of the year.”

“I like it like this,” he tells her. 

“Like what?”

“Getting to know you first,” he begins. “We became friends and then I started to fall for you. We got to control our own destiny, like you said. I don’t love you because you’re my soulmate, I love you because you’re you.”

“You love me?” She asks. The heat rises in his cheeks. He hadn’t meant to say that yet. He’d told Clarke he loved his soulmate. But he’d never told her knowing they were the same person. 

“I do,” he admits. “I really do.”

“I love you too,” she says, leaning up to kiss him again. It’s something he’s never going to get tired of. 

*

They’re laying in bed, curled against each other. They’d been reminiscing of times they’d had each other, without knowing it was each other. Reminding the other of things they said in the past. It’s nice, talking this way. It's getting to know her in a way that’s different from before. Getting to know her as his soulmate, who is also the girl he got stuck doing a presentation with in his least favourite class. Who slowly became something more like a friend. Who he then fell for. 

He tells her that he had a feeling he had a soulmate when he was young. Her saw ink marks on the side of his hands that he couldn’t wash off. And so he was careful to never get ink on his skin. He only wrote in pencil. She tells him that Echo figured it out, but wanted them to work it out themselves. He appreciates that. He’s glad they never had their friends meddling. 

“Did Raven come talk to you today?” He asks, remembering the conversation they’d had earlier. “I think she figured it out too.”

“No,” Clarke says. And then groans. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, absentmindedly stroking patterns on her shoulder. 

“Our friends are going to be insufferable.”

He groans too. Raven is going to love this. 

“Can we just never tell them?” He asks, only half joking. 

“I’ve been moping about being in love with my soulmate for like a year,” she tells him (and his heart swells a little). “They’re going to notice.”

“We could just stay right here forever,” he says, tugging her closer. 

“They’d come looking for us,” she laughs. “We probably have until brunch tomorrow.”

“Let’s let them figure it out,” Bellamy decides. He doesn’t think it’ll take them long, they’re impossibly nosey and it’s definitely easier than having to explain this. 

Clarke doesn’t go home that night. They spend it together, talking and taking each other in. He’s waited so long for this moment. He never wants it to end. 

But then Clarke has to leave, to change into something she can wear to brunch and he’s not sure they should really be arriving together yet. Maybe next time, when they know. But walking in with her would feel like walking into an ambush. 

She’s not there when he arrives, but Raven is. And Harper and Monty and Jasper and Maya. He sits down at the end of the table, where there is a free space for Clarke to sit when she arrives. 

“Why do we have to do this every Sunday?” Bellamy grumbles, reaching for the menu so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with his friends. 

“Prosperity. Tradition. Fun,” Harper tells him. This had been her idea. “And you’re the only one of us who’s never missed a day.”

“I’m reliable,” he says. But she’s got him. 

“Is Clarke coming?” Raven asks, ignoring Bellamy and turning to Harper. 

“She hasn’t said otherwise,” Harper says. “We’re having mimosas today. I want to be fancy.”

Murphy, Emori, Echo and Clarke all arrive together, as Harper makes the declaration. Clarke drops down beside him, bumping his ankle with hers. 

“Oh have you two sorted out your shit?” Murphy asks, sitting on the other side of Clarke. 

“I guess,” she shrugs, reaching for a menu. Bellamy can feel her nervous energy but he doesn’t think it’s obvious to the others. 

Echo and Raven are both looking at them quizzically, but neither of them say anything. He’s sure they don’t want to give anything away until they’re certain. Which is fine by Bellamy. He’s not going to say anything if he doesn’t have to. 

They order too much food and because Harper insists, three rounds of mimosas. It’s too early on a Sunday for him to have a champagne buzz, but it’s helping his nerves a little. He’s pretty sure he seems less high strung as he speaks to Monty about his internship he’s applied for. 

“Oh Clarke,” Harper calls, reaching across the table to take her hand. Harper had a little more than a champagne buzz. “I forgot to ask this morning, where were you last night?”

“I was with Bellamy actually,” she says. She doesn’t skip a beat and apparently this is how they’re telling their friends. He glances at her and bumps their ankles again. It’s a small comfort for the nerves that have picked up again. 

“All night?” Harper asks, she looks a little confused. Probably because twenty four hours ago, Clarke and Bellamy weren’t speaking. 

“Yeah,” Clarke says. “We had some things to figure out.”

“Finally,” Echo says, with a smirk.

“Yeah, you guys went way too long without speaking,” Jasper chimes in. 

“So did you sort them out?” Raven asks. Clarke nods and Bellamy avoids eye contact with everyone. 

“And?” Raven presses. 

“We’ll, it turns out he’s my soulmate.”

The table is quiet for a moment before Harper squeals and reaches across the table to hug them both. 

“And you figured it out, didn’t you?” Clarke asks.

“When he,” Raven points a finger at him, “said he didn’t know the name of his soulmate, I was pretty sure. I went to ask Echo and she wouldn’t let me get involved.”

“I really appreciate that,” Bellamy says, looking at her. She’s grinning. 

“I’m glad it’s finally worked out. I’ve known for months,” she tells them. “It’s the hardest secret I ever had to keep.”

There’s questions and congratulations from all their friends. They’re all happy for them. They’re all supportive. And now that it’s in the open, Bellamy is happy to speak about it. Because why would he want to keep the best thing to have happened to him a secret? And apparently, none of them can believe how well it worked out, since they all knew Clarke and he had feelings for each other. 

It’s a lot later than they normally finish up brunch when they finally say their goodbyes. 

“Can I come with you?” Clarke says, as the rest of their friends head home. 

“Of course, princess,” he tells her, taking her hand. 

He’s got his best friend by his side. He’s got his soulmate.

And somehow, they’re the same person. 

Somehow, it’s Clarke.