Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clarke Griffin tapped her foot, scanning the coffee shop for anyone that looked like augustus90. In retrospect, she probably should have gotten more information out of him before agreeing to meet, but she was so damn curious about his request that she didn’t think this through. Luckily, Wells did, hence why he was sitting covertly two tables behind her in case anything went wrong.

She found his post at three in the morning after looking for freelancing opportunities. She was used to seeing all kinds of requests to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend for a work event or a family holiday. But she had never seen someone ask for someone to pretend to be their soulmate.

Logistically, Clarke didn’t know how that would work. Maybe he wanted her to pretend to be whoever’s name was branded into his wrist, but that didn’t solve the issue of her soulmark. The dark Bellamy Blake was easy enough to cover up with a sleeve or makeup, but it would be impossible to fake a convincing soulmark with this augustus90 guy’s real name on it. Moreover, she didn’t understand why someone would go to so much effort to fake a soulmate. It wasn’t like his friends or family wouldn’t eventually figure it out. It would be so much easier to fake a girlfriend, claiming neither of you cared about soulmates, and then later, fake the break up.

So, she mainly agreed to meet because she had questions… which was a really stupid motivation to meet some stranger off the internet. That was her first mistake.

The second mistake she made was getting there too early. The third was getting so anxious that she downed half her coffee in two minutes, which gave her a burst of energy that only fueled her anxiety further. The fourth mistake was not keeping her eyes on the door, which meant she missed augustus90 walking right up to her.

“Princessclarke13?” a voice asked, and she jumped in her seat. She followed the sound of his low chuckle to see a tall man with broad shoulders and dark, curly hair.  

“Hi,” she choked out, giving him a once over. Well, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a handsome man with freckles and a chin dimple certainly wasn’t it.

“Hi,” he replied with an awkward smile, taking the seat across from her. Clarke stole a glance back at Wells, making sure he noticed that the random guy he was convinced was a serial killer had arrived. Though, if he were a serial killer, at least Clarke would die looking at something pretty. “Well, at least I’m not the only one who brought a friend to make sure the person I was meeting wasn’t going to murder me,” he chuckled, and Clarke turned back to look at him. With a smirk, he nodded toward a table in the back where another tall guy in a beanie was watching them curiously.

Clarke covered her mouth as she laughed, shaking her head. “You know, I might not have needed the cavalry if I knew anything more than the fact that you need a fake soulmate for some reason,” she teased.

“Right,” he said, ducking his head as he ran his fingers through his curls. “So, my ex has an engagement party coming up. I am perfectly fine with the situation. It’s been two years since we broke up,” he explained. Clarke relaxed into her seat, her nerves settling as she watched him frantically wave his hands as he spoke. “But she confronted me, claiming that I am clearly not over her.”

“So, you think bringing a fake soulmate would convince her? It’d be easier to just get a fake girlfriend,” Clarke pointed out. And she wouldn’t be opposed to helping him out there. She helped Jackson before he came out to his family, and she can’t even begin to count the number of times Wells has used her as a fake girlfriend.

“Well,” he said before biting down his lip. She leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “It’s more like I got really defensive and worked up as we argued about it and stupidly declared that of course I was over her because I found my soulmate.”

Clarke leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she stared at him. “You really committed to the hardest possible lie, huh?” she snorted.

“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking straight. And now she insists I bring said soulmate with me to the engagement party. Miller says I should make up an excuse for why my soulmate can’t come, but Echo would see right through that,” he sighed.

She opened her mouth to start asking what he plans to do about the soulmark when she heard the barista call out, “Bellamy?”

Clarke froze. “Be right back,” he said before standing up from their table. Clarke glanced back with wide eyes at Wells to see if he heard that too, but Wells wasn’t even paying attention. So much for the cavalry.

She shook her head as she waited for him to come back. She stared at her own arm where the soulmark was covered by her sweater sleeve. She had the name Bellamy Blake memorized after all these years of staring at it. Clarke Griffin was skeptical of soulmates. Her parents weren’t soulmates and they were perfectly happy, so Clarke wasn’t sure she wanted one. And her past two relationships didn’t exactly help convince her that she was the kind of person anyone would put first or want. So, she hadn’t tried looking yet, figuring she could leave it up to chance and then decide.  

But that was an easy enough thing to say when her possible soulmate wasn’t sitting right across from her detailing how he needs a fake soulmate to convince his ex that he’s over her. Clarke took a deep breath as she heard him walk back to the table, knowing there was only way she could know for sure.

“I’m Clarke, by the way,” she told him as he sat down. “Clarke Griffin.” No recognition danced across his features. He didn’t look like someone who just found their soulmate, and she let out a sigh of relief. Must be a different Bellamy.

“Bellamy Blake,” he replied, and that relief was quickly extinguished. So, he was her soulmate. She just wasn’t his… a rare situation but one she probably should have anticipated. It followed the same pattern of her actual relationships… ultimately one-sided and leaving Clarke all alone.

This should be a relief to Clarke. After all, she wasn’t even sure she wanted a soulmate. This way, he never had to know his name was on her wrist because it didn’t affect him. He still had a soulmate out there that he could find and live happily ever after with and not deal with Clarke’s confusion about soulmates. But it still stung. A rejection before it was ever an option.

“Um,” Clarke stuttered out, feeling his eyes heavy on hers. He could probably see something was wrong with her, and she was desperate to get back to their conversation before he asked her if she was okay. “So, uh, how do you plan on pulling this off? I’m sure your ex knows the name from your soulmark.”

Bellamy was silent for a moment, his brows furrowed as he stared down at his coffee. Clarke’s heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she realized who he was to her, and she found herself studying him a bit closely. His lips were a bit chapped, his hair messy like he constantly runs his hands through it. She wondered if knowing him better would hurt more than barely knowing him.

“She doesn’t. No one does,” he finally said. Then, Bellamy started tugging at his jacket sleeve. Once his wrist was bare, he turned it so she could see what he was talking about. A healed over scar rested on his wrist, purposefully obscuring where his soulmate’s name should be.

Her lips parted as she stared at it, not sure she had seen anything like it. It wasn’t unheard of. Nobles would do similar things to their children before they turned eighteen so that they didn’t try to run off with their soulmates and instead would marry for social and economic gain. Some people nowadays had theirs removed if they decided to marry someone else. But this… it startled her. It looked like he did this himself a long time ago. And when she started to think about why he would do that to himself, her chest felt like it was burning.

Clarke had more questions on the tip of her tongue, but she knew she couldn’t ask them. “So, my soulmark isn’t the obstacle. I’d just say that you found me,” he said when she stayed silent for too long. “And I figured you could wear long sleeves to cover yours if you agreed to help me.”

“Right,” Clarke murmured, remembering why she was here in the first place. Her actual soulmate needed her to pretend to be his fake soulmate.

“If you don’t want to, I really do understand,” he said as he tugged his jacket sleeve back down. She locked eyes with him, realizing he really meant that. Bellamy seemed like a nice enough guy who was just in a tough spot, and a small part of her felt like she should tell him who she was… since she probably was the name obscured by the scar on his wrist. But if she was right about him doing that himself, it meant he didn’t want her. That scar was a rejection of his soulmate, pure and simple.

The smart thing to do was to say no. They’d go their separate ways, and she’d just occasionally wonder about her soulmate. But the curiosity got the better of her again. “No, I can do it,” she decided, committing to her fifth mistake of the day. It wouldn’t get easier to walk away from Bellamy once she got to know him better. She knew that. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to know him better.

“Really?” he asked, a small grin forming on his lips.

“Quite easily the stupidest thing you’ve agreed to,” Wells shouted through the door as Clarke got dressed. “Though, at least if someone sees your soulmark you won’t get busted for this ridiculous plan.”

“It’s just one night I have to get through,” she snapped as she tried to zip her dress the rest of the way. When it got stuck, she cursed under her breath before opening the door. She turned so Wells would zip her the rest of the way.

“Is your best case scenario that you somehow become friends with this guy and have to lie about your soulmate situation for the rest of your life?” he muttered. Clarke looked down at her wrist, staring at Bellamy’s name for the hundredth time today. She really didn’t have a plan here, no goal for the evening except to try to understand why he didn’t want a soulmate. And she had no idea what she would do once she found out. Would she tell him the truth? Probably not, if her suspicions about him having a strong aversion to soulmates turn out to be true. Could she be his friend knowing what she knows? They just met, so they weren’t exactly friends yet… but she could see him being her friend. He was smart, funny, and kind beneath the sarcasm. But it’d probably be torture to be his friend when she knew what they really were… or supposed to be, at least.

“I’m going to help him convince his ex that he’s moved on. That’s all I know,” she huffed, pulling her hair out of the way as he zipped to the top. She brushed passed Wells to look at herself in the mirror, second guessing the dress she chose. But the red one was the only one with long sleeves, which she desperately needed if she wanted to make sure Bellamy didn’t find out.

“You like him, don’t you?” Wells asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I don’t know him,” she corrected. He rolled his eyes knowingly, and she bit down on her lip. It wasn’t quite fair to say she didn’t know him anymore. They spent two hours in that coffee shop getting their story straight, and Clarke took note of everything she could learn about him in that time. They had texted off and on all week. By Clarke’s definition, he was her friend now. And yeah, she liked him. She liked that he seemed really close with his little sister and that he quit his job so that he could get his master’s in history. She liked the fact that she could practically feel him smirking when he sends her a playful text. She liked how easy it was to talk to him once she got over the initial shock of him being her soulmate.

Before Wells could say anything else, her phone went off with a text from Bellamy saying he was waiting in his car outside. “This can’t end well,” Wells warned, and Clarke waved him off as she grabbed her purse. “Clarke,” he said, sterner this time. She jerked her head up to look at him, her eyes wide in response to his sudden seriousness. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not going to. I know he doesn’t want a soulmate, so it’s not like there’s anything he can say to make that hurt any worse,” she replied, and his eyes faltered.

“Clarke—”

“I’ll be fine,” she promised, stepping into her heels quickly before taking off toward the door.

Bellamy was waiting for her in his car, anxiously strumming the steering wheel as she hopped in. “You okay?” he asked, likely sensing her nervousness. She waved him off. “You know, if I were a serial killer, I would not go to all this trouble just to kill you.”

“Way to make a girl feel special,” she snorted as she tugged on her seatbelt. When she glanced back over at him, his lips turned upward in a lopsided smile. The two of them went over their story again, how Clarke reached out to him a few months ago to tell him she was his soulmate and they’ve been inseparable ever since. It was a sweet story, one that Clarke wished were true.

When they walked into the club where the engagement party was taking place, Bellamy took her hand and led her toward the side of the room. She knew he was going to have to touch her like they were together, but she hadn’t anticipated how his contact would feel. How warm and gentle. “We just have to tough it out for like an hour. Long enough for Echo to see that you exist but not so long that I have to actually talk to people,” he whispered right into her ear.

“Sounds easy enough,” she mumbled, thankful when he grabbed two drinks from the waiter’s tray. She happily started chugging hers, figuring if she was going to spend her night pretending to be the soulmate of her actual soulmate that she’d need a drink or two.

The plan to get in and get out in under an hour sounded too good to be true, so she should have known better. Echo and her fiancé didn’t show up until forty-five minutes into the party. So, Bellamy and Clarke hid out and talked in their little corner, covering everything from his frustration with some of his students to why Clarke was avoiding her mom. She got so caught up in their conversation that she forgot what she was doing there until Echo approached them.

“Bellamy, you came?” she said with a huge grin. Clarke gave the brunette a once over, not even surprised that she was this gorgeous.

Bellamy stood up to greet her, a small smile forming on his face when he hugged her. Clarke watched them closely, wondering if there was anything more to Echo’s concerns that he wasn’t over her… but it didn’t seem like it. He just looked like he was happy to see an old friend. “This is Clarke,” he told her as he pulled away, and he rested his hand on Clarke’s back as Echo reached a hand out to greet her.

“It is so good to meet you,” Echo replied, shaking Clarke’s hand. “How did you even find him?”

“Good old-fashioned Google. Not a lot of Bellamy’s out there,” Clarke answered. “It took me a few years to decide to look him up, but that’s just because I was sort of skeptical about soulmates.” Her shoulders relaxed once she got that sentence out, grateful she rehearsed this enough over the week. Bellamy’s hand was still on her back, a warm reassurance that she was doing okay.

“Well, I can see why you two are soulmates then,” Echo snorted, and Clarke spotted a strange shift in Bellamy’s jaw. “Do you mind if I borrow him for just a second? We’ll be right back,” she promised, and Clarke began to feel anxious again. She glanced up at Bellamy, making sure he was fine with it, before gesturing to go ahead.

She watched as the two of them rounded the corner, Echo talking quickly about something while Bellamy fidgeted with his hands. Clarke sat awkwardly in the corner, very aware that she didn’t belong here. She waited a few minutes for them to come back, but they didn’t. With a sigh, she pushed herself up to her feet and slipped out the back door, already dialing Wells.

“Have you told him yet?” Wells asked as soon as he picked up.

“No,” she hissed. “And I’m not going to. His ex basically just affirmed my suspicions. He doesn’t want a soulmate.”

“Well, that’s too bad because he has one,” Wells retorted as Clarke pressed her back against the brick wall. “If you don’t want to tell him, why did you even go tonight? And don’t you dare feed me that line about you being curious.”

Clarke bit down hard on her lip, hating how well he could see right through her. “I just… I want to know,” she whispered into the phone. Clarke never knew what to make of soulmates. Her parents didn’t need soulmates, so that was the narrative she based her life on. Then, she watched all her friends find theirs and learned that her parents weren’t like most people.

But she stuck to what she thought she knew: that she didn’t need or want a soulmate. She dated Finn, then Lexa, but the result was the same. Clarke just wasn’t quite enough for either of them to stay. She hadn’t thought too much about her own soulmate over the years, assuming that they would end up just like the others. And as it turns out, Clarke was kind of right. Bellamy just made the choice long before he met her.

“You want to know why,” Wells sighed.

The back door creaked open, and Clarke whispered her goodbyes before hanging up. “Clarke?” she heard Bellamy call out before his eyes locked with hers.

“Sorry, I was calling my friend Wells back,” she explained, and he stepped toward her.

“Did you let him know I haven’t serial killed you yet?” he teased, and an unexpected laugh escaped from the back of her throat.

“Told him you seemed to be an incompetent serial killer so he would worry less,” she snorted, and he tilted his head back in a happy chuckle. It was nice to see him relaxed again, especially after how nervous he was following Echo’s last comment. “Did everything go okay?”

“I mean,” he sighed, crouching to sit against the wall. Clarke ungracefully followed suit, figuring they weren’t going back inside any time soon. “It went about how I should have expected it to go. She believed you were my soulmate though, so you did fine.” She blinked up at him, not liking how tense his jaw was. “It was really stupid of me to say I found my soulmate instead of making up a girlfriend. She knows how I am about soulmates.”

Clarke opened her mouth to press further before remembering that she shouldn’t. He didn’t owe her an explanation, no matter how desperately she wanted it. “So, that’s what she meant earlier,” was what Clarke settled on. They fell into silence, only hearing the faint music from inside.

“Echo didn’t want to find her soulmate either, which was the only reason I let my guard down enough for us to get as serious as we did,” he finally whispered. “But then he found her, she realized what was missing with me, and the breakup got ugly.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied. When he didn’t say anything back, she took a chance and reached over to grab his hand. She waited for him to pull away or show signs of discomfort, but instead, he squeezed her hand and let out a breath.

“You want to know the story, don’t you?” he asked quietly, and her stomach tightened. She glanced up at him, seeing him already staring at her. “It’s okay. Everyone does.”

God, she wanted to hear it. She wanted to understand so badly. But whatever it was, it was bad, it was personal, and it wasn’t something she could just ask for. “You don’t have to tell me,” she reassured. He blinked a few times, looking genuinely confused by her response. “I know it’s personal, so it’s okay.” He sighed quietly as they both turned to face forward, their hands still intertwined.

Wells was right. Clarke shouldn’t have gone through with this. It was too hard knowing who he was supposed to be to her. And she had a decision to make about whether to tell him the truth or not.

“Clarke,” he whispered, and she tilted her head up to see him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Can I tell you anyway?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on him as he stared out at the parking lot.

“My mom had me when she was a teenager, meaning my dad was not her soulmate. But O’s dad was, and I just remember it was the first time I ever saw my mom happy,” he started. “That was my first introduction to soulmates.” He squeezed her hand gently, and Clarke slid a bit closer to him. “But I was too young to realize he wasn’t a good guy. He would get really angry and want to hit something. Never me and O, though.” Her eyes widened when she realized he didn’t list his mother as one of the people safe from being hit.

When he paused, Clarke squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. “I was twelve when I did this,” he said, gesturing with his head toward his covered wrist. “I walked in on him with his hand around my mom’s throat and stopped him, thank God. But it scared the hell out of me. I was really young and scared. All I knew was that I didn’t want to find my soulmate if there was a chance they would hurt me like he hurt my mom.” His voice broke a bit as he spoke, and it became harder for Clarke to breathe. She could see it so vividly, could feel his fear. He was scared his soulmate would hurt him, and Clarke knew she had to do whatever she could to make sure she didn’t.

He finally looked over at Clarke, his eyes softer than she was used to. Her own eyes were fighting back tears as she tried to come up with something to say to that. “Bellamy, I don’t—”

“It’s okay,” he cut her off. She felt the urge to pull him in for a hug, to reassure him that he’s safe here. But instead, she rested her head on his shoulder, hoping that contact would be enough of a comfort for now. “Echo knows the story, which is why she was so skeptical about the story of me being with my soulmate now. And I should have seen that coming, but I really didn’t want to have to think about that again.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No, I’m sorry for throwing this all onto you. You did a stranger a favor by helping me out, but you didn’t sign up for my life story,” he muttered.

“You’re not a stranger. You’re my friend,” Clarke retorted, and Bellamy craned his neck to look at her with furrowed brows. “Well, if one of us isn’t going to serial kill the other, we might as well be friends,” she joked through the sniffles, and he snorted. “So, if you want to throw your life story at me, go ahead. That’s what friends do.”

“Well, now I have two friends,” he chuckled. His voice grew softer again, more playful. And she felt her body relax in response. He was okay.

“Me, Murphy, Miller. That’s three,” she pointed out.

“Nah, just you and Miller. Murphy is dead to me because he scratched my car again,” he smirked, and she was just so grateful to hear him at ease again.

They joked around for most of the drive home, almost letting Clarke forget the one question that was aching to be asked. But when they pulled up to her building and she unclicked her seatbelt, she knew she had to get it out. “I have a question.”

“I have an answer,” he smirked.

“Do you want to know who it is?” she asked. “Your soulmate, I mean.” If he didn’t, Clarke wouldn’t tell him. She could probably keep the mark hidden from him, maybe even have it removed if need be.

He glanced down at his sleeve, biting his lip. “It really doesn’t matter what I want to know,” he finally said. “I can’t find out what name was supposed to be there.”

“But if you could, would you want to know?” she asked again, though she feared he would avoid the question again. But she needed the answer. She needed to know if she had to keep this hidden from him or if she could tell him. The selfish part of her wanted to tell him so that at least she wouldn’t feel as alone anymore. But after he told her why he did it… she knew she couldn’t unless he said it was okay.

“I don’t know.” And so, she didn’t say a word.

Chapter Text

They were sitting in the back of the church, Bellamy mindlessly playing with her hand during the ceremony. This wedding was Clarke’s last official duty as his fake soulmate. She didn’t have to come to this one, of course. Bellamy only asked her to help him out for the engagement party over a year ago. But she also knew that he felt anxious about going on his own. The fake soulmate label was an easy excuse for her to be there with him.

Clarke was hardly paying attention to the ceremony, focusing instead on the circles he traced into her hand. He wasn’t tense today, not anxious about being here… which meant she was right to insist on coming. Bellamy wasn’t always an easy person to read. His forthcoming attitude when they first met was more out of necessity than habit. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have revealed so much about his past to Clarke. It took the blow up with his sister a few months back for Clarke to realize just how desperately Bellamy didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t let a lot of people in, which made it hurt that much worse when they left him behind.

So, she couldn’t let him come to this wedding on his own. Not when the bride had similarly left him behind when she found her soulmate. And Clarke was more than happy to be here with Bellamy, maybe enjoying it a little too much when he touched her to keep up the soulmate ruse. But she couldn’t help it. She loved Bellamy. He had such a beautiful heart and sharp mind. He made her laugh, even on her worst days. He was her best friend, a piece of her that she hadn’t known she was missing. And despite the few moments of longing for something more, Clarke was happy right where she was. She made peace with him being unsure if he wanted a soulmate, perfectly content to just be his person, his friend, and sometimes, when he was drunk, his favorite.

He let go of her hand, shifting to put his arm around her. She hummed contentedly as she relaxed against him. “Thank you for being here,” he whispered when she settled her head on his shoulder.

“Any time,” she promised, knowing she shouldn’t look at him or else he’d catch her beaming at him. He shifted again, and Clarke assumed he was going to rest his head on top of hers. But instead, she felt him press a kiss to her hair. Her eyes fell shut and a smile tugged at her lips. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as her heart started to pound. And when Bellamy finally did rest his head on hers, she let out a breath.

It was usually easy to ignore his name on her wrist. Simple enough to forget he really was her soulmate. But in the moments like this, it took everything in her not to confess the truth.

“I have a question,” Bellamy slurred, leaning too heavily on Clarke as she tried to get him into the bed. He had a little too much to drink at the reception and far too much in her apartment afterwards. At this point, there was nothing she could do except tuck him into her bed and make him sleep it off. “Why does Wells hate me?”

Clarke pressed her lips together, her eyes involuntarily drifting in the direction of Wells’ bedroom. He was… less than pleasant when he came home to find Bellamy and Clarke giggling and cuddling on the couch. “He doesn’t hate you,” Clarke corrected. “He’s just… protective. Like you with Octavia.” That was the easiest way to explain the situation since Bellamy still didn’t know his name was on her wrist. Wells didn’t have anything personal against Bellamy. He was just worried about how attached Clarke was to him even though Bellamy wasn’t sure he wanted his soulmate. Wells didn’t want her to get hurt.

“Okay, but you’re my Clarke,” he said seriously before falling backward onto the mattress. She was grateful he fell face first so he didn’t see the way she blushed at my Clarke. “You’re my favorite, so he doesn’t have anything to worry about,” he mumbled into her pillow.

“Just like Octavia is Lincoln’s favorite, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about,” she pointed out as she tugged off his shoe. He was still wearing his suit pants from the wedding, down to his undershirt on top.

Bellamy flipped over onto his back dramatically, already wagging a finger at Clarke. “That’s different,” he huffed.

“It’s not and you know it,” she said, now setting both his shoes by his phone and wallet. He mumbled some argument as she stepped out of her room to grab him a glass of water. When she came back in, he had turned onto his side.

“Clarke!” he shouted with a huge grin. It wasn’t fair what his drunken affectionate behavior did to her. How it made her face light up and chest grow warm.

“Sit up,” she giggled, holding out the water to him. He sat up quickly, though not gracefully, and took the glass from her.

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” he mumbled into the glass. She plopped down beside him as he set the water down on the nightstand. She was all too happy to have him sigh happily into her neck as he rested his head on her shoulder. “So lucky to have you as my fake soulmate.”

She swallowed, focusing on raking her fingers up his back, scratching it the way that usually made him sleepy when he was drunk. “I think you should go to sleep,” she choked out. Part of her was sad she wouldn’t have to be his fake soulmate anymore. She’d miss the affectionate way he was with her when she was pretending. But Clarke also knew it was for the best. She could only take so many glimpses into what her life would be like as his real soulmate before the heartbreak of their situation set in.

“In a minute,” he mumbled, not too eager for her to leave yet. He was usually this affectionate while drunk, a little clingy but in a sweet way. She rested her head on top of his, listening to his breathing. Eventually, it would even out, and he’d be asleep. She just had to wait. “You always wear sweaters,” he whispered into her shoulder. “No one wears this many sweaters.”

Clarke had changed out of her dress as soon as they got back to the apartment. She didn’t used to wear sweaters this often, but it was the easiest thing to wear for hiding her soulmark. She should have figured Bellamy would notice how often she wore them, and she probably needed a different solution for concealing the mark. “I like sweaters,” she replied.

“I like your sweaters too,” he murmured as he nosed at the fabric. The sleepiness was growing heavy in his voice, so Clarke nudged him back until he lied down. His eyes fell shut, and Clarke started pulling the blankets over him. “Wait, this is your bed.”

“Yes, it is,” she chuckled.

“Smells like you,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“I hope that’s okay,” she chuckled before turning off the bedside lamp.

“Very okay,” he slurred.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Goodnight,” she whispered before walking toward the door. He mumbled something in response she couldn’t make out before she shut the door behind her.

She tiptoed into Wells’ room, careful not to wake him up. Clarke crawled into his bed on the other side, getting comfortable before letting herself tug up her sleeve. And there was the Bellamy Blake, still as prominent and bold on her wrist. Staring at it late at night had become an unfortunate habit of hers, one she couldn’t quite give up. It gave her false hope, which was a dangerous thing. Bellamy wasn’t going to change his mind about soulmates overnight, especially given the early trauma he had with them. He would never be sure if he wanted to know who it was, and Clarke wouldn’t tell him unless he was sure. Which meant that this beautiful name on her wrist was never going to mean anything real. It just served as a reminder of what Clarke really wanted but couldn’t have.

“You have a problem,” Wells grumbled beside her, causing her to jump.

“Have you been awake this whole time?” she whispered, smacking his arm. He rolled onto his side, narrowing his eyes at her. “And would it have been so hard to be nice to Bellamy?”

“I’m always nice to Bellamy,” he huffed.

“He thinks you hate him,” she muttered.

“Well, he’s not wrong.” Clarke groaned as she turned away from him, taking half his blankets with her. “Okay, I don’t hate him,” he conceded. “But I’m not his biggest fan.”

She jerked her head back to look at him, brows furrowed in frustration. “Name one thing that’s wrong with him.”

Wells fell back onto his back, pressing his lips hard together. “You’ve been simultaneously lovestruck and heartbroken since you met him. That’s what’s wrong. It’s hard to be around him when he has no idea—”

“I’ve told you the story,” she snapped. “Can you blame him for not being sure if he wants to know?” Neither of them was to blame for their situation. Bellamy didn’t do anything wrong, thus, he didn’t deserve Wells’ frustration.

“Obviously, I don’t,” he sighed. “But he’s not my best friend. You are. I’m invested in you being happy and falling in love someday. So, it’s killing me to watch you be in love with someone who is breaking your heart.”

Clarke fell onto her back, staring at Wells’ ceiling fan. They weren’t words she hadn’t already thought to herself alone at night. It was just the first time they were spoken aloud. “I knew what this was when I met him,” she murmured, scared to look at Wells. “So, I can’t get hurt, okay?” It was a lie, and they both knew it.

Wells scooted closer to her, and she could feel his concerned eyes watching her. “You need to tell him.”

“I can’t,” she said, voice finally breaking. “He did that because he was scared of his soulmate.”

“When he was twelve,” he added in, and Clarke just shook her head.

That fear was still inside Bellamy. He understood things now that he couldn’t as a child, but that panic was still there. She caught it when he said he wasn’t sure he would want to know who it was. It was the root of his fight with Octavia, where it was clear he was terrified his sister would be hurt by Lincoln like his mother was by her soulmate. The scar on his wrist had healed years ago, but Bellamy never fully recovered from that day.

“He would be relieved to find out it was you. I promise,” Wells whispered.

She pulled down her sweater sleeve, hiding the mark again, and wiped the warm tears from her cheeks. “You don’t know that,” she murmured. “He still associates soulmates with getting hurt… and I couldn’t take it if Bellamy was scared I would hurt him.”

Wells pulled her toward him, resting his head on hers as she heaved into his chest.

As she stared down at her wrist, she felt almost naked. Bellamy’s name had been with her since she was eighteen, a small source of hope when she needed it most. But she invested in the best makeup she could find to cover it up tonight, making it seem like it was never there.

She scanned the patch of skin over and over again, making sure she didn’t miss a spot. Clarke wouldn’t have to do this if she would just give in and have it removed. It would take away the pain of constantly hiding it from him, but it wouldn’t change anything else. Clarke would always know, and Bellamy never would.

She took a deep breath before tackling the rest of her makeup. She wasn’t going to think about soulmates tonight. No, tonight was about Clarke and the hard work she had put into this show. Yes, Bellamy would be here to support her as any good friend would. But there was no need to let this become a night where Clarke got worked up over soulmates.

Once she got her lipstick on and hair pinned in place, Clarke gave herself a once over in the mirror. She purposefully avoided the empty spot on her wrist, focusing instead on how small her waist looked in this dress. It wasn’t often that Clarke had an excuse to dress up, so she went all out for her first show. New black dress with a hint of cleavage, heels instead of flats, and makeup that she had practiced for two weeks after watching too many YouTube tutorials.

When she was satisfied, she stepped out of the gallery bathroom and tucked her things into the back room. She had been here all day, making final adjustments and changes. Honestly, getting back in bed sounded much better than actually having the show at this point. But that wasn’t an option. So, Clarke kept herself busy with small tasks while she waited for the doors to open.

Wells was right on time, barreling in with a huge grin as he rushed toward her. She walked him around, talking him through each of her pieces, and they ultimately settled in toward the back of the gallery. “Like I knew you were this talented, but I didn’t know,” Wells grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

“Stop it,” she whined, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks.

“On top of that, you totally look like you have your act together right now. I think it’s the heels,” he teased, and she nudged his shoulder.

“It’s definitely the heels. And maybe the fact that I think I finally learned how to do eyeliner,” she snorted, and he nodded in agreement.

“So, did you decide to do all this,” he said, gesturing to her whole outfit, “because your soulmate was coming?”

“No,” she huffed. “And don’t call him that. I can look nice just because I want to look nice, you know.” Wells shoved his hands into his pockets, a weirdly smug look on his face. “What?”

“Well, I was gonna say that if you did do it for him, it worked because he keeps staring at you.” Clarke whipped her head around, scanning the room for Bellamy. “He just turned the corner.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” she groaned, earning a loud chuckle from him as she stomped off to find Bellamy. Her heels clacked as she brushed past small clumps of people, finding Bellamy exactly where Wells said he was. “Bell,” she called out, feeling her lips already form into a smile. He turned his head when she called out his name, his grin mirroring hers. “Hey,” she nearly giggled, crossing over him for a hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“How could I not?” he said, pulling back to glance at her painting again. “Even if I wasn’t desperate to see more evidence of how talented you are, I kind of owe you.” She was grateful he wasn’t looking at her so that he didn’t catch the way her lips parted or her cheeks blushed at his comment. “But seriously, this is incredible, Clarke.” She ducked her head down, grinning ear to ear. A piece of her hair fell despite her pinning it in place earlier, and she immediately tried to pull it back into place. “So, were a lot of people here right when it opened?” he asked, turning back to look at her.

“Just a handful, which is to be expected,” she explained as she tried to secure the pin back in place. “Did you get to stop home after class or did you have to come straight here?” Finally, she got her hair out of her face, though she was wondering why she even bothered trying to wear it down tonight.

When Bellamy didn’t answer right away, Clarke looked back at him. He blinked a few times, brows furrowed, as if deep in thought. “Bell?” she asked.

“What?” he said, shaking his head slightly.

“Did you come here straight from class?” she asked slowly, but he still seemed out of it.

“No, I went home to change first,” he replied, his eyes not looking at hers. It seemed like he was looking at a spot on her dress, but when she looked down to see what she was looking at, she realized what actually caught his attention: her wrist.

She turned it away from him, suddenly panicked that there was a small piece of it not covered up. That seemed to snap him out of it, his eyes now looking up at hers, though he still seemed distracted. “I just realized I have to go take care of something. I’ll be right back,” Clarke stuttered out, not even waiting for his reply before taking off to find Wells.

He was in the same spot she left him in, and she grabbed his arm and started pulling him into the back. “Okay, why do you look like you just witnessed a murder?” Wells huffed as she tugged him into the storage room and flipped on the light switch.

“Can you see his name?” she asked, holding out her wrist to him. She couldn’t see any evidence of her soulmark, but clearly Bellamy saw something.

“No,” Wells sighed, turning her wrist to look more closely. “You covered it really damn well.”

“That’s what I thought, and then I caught Bellamy staring at my wrist,” she explained, and Wells furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would he stare at my wrist?”

“Okay, maybe he wasn’t staring at your wrist. Maybe he just zoned out and it happened to be in the direction of your wrist,” he offered, and Clarke rested her back against the wall.

“Alright,” she whispered, though she didn’t quite buy it. “Look, I’m gonna get back out there and try to distract myself from… well, whatever that was. Can I trust you to be nice to Bellamy?”

“I’m always nice to Bellamy,” he retorted, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “I will be nice,” he promised. Clarke took a long, deep breath before opening the door.

The pain in Clarke’s feet from these ridiculous heels was the only thing keeping her alert as this buyer, who was obviously only interested in flirting, talked her ear off. She hadn’t seen Wells or Bellamy in a half hour, but they were around here somewhere. Every time she tried to look for them, she caught a glare from the gallery owner, Luna, to remind her to schmooze with this Roan guy. So, Clarke kept a smile plastered on her face as they talked, walking around the gallery together.

“So, how long have you been at this?” Roan asked.

“Art in general? My whole life, though just a year ago I was still doing mostly freelance work,” she explained. “I’m relatively new to all this.” Despite Wells telling her for years that she should reach out to Luna, she never had the courage to. She could never quite tell if what she was doing was actually good or if Wells was just saying that because he was her friend. It took Clarke getting drunk enough to tell Bellamy about this dream and then Bellamy following up with her about it when she was sober the next day for her to decide to try.

Roan’s phone rang, and he murmured his apologies as he stepped away. Clarke happily took this opportunity to find Wells and Bellamy. They were seated on a bench together, far from everyone else, giggling like school girls. “What is so funny?” she had to ask.

Wells slid over so she could take a seat between them, and Clarke nearly cried out with relief once she got off her feet. “Just telling Bellamy here about when you dyed your hair red,” Wells teased.

“Okay, that was a phase,” Clarke snapped.

“You had just broken up with Finn, which jumpstarted a very angsty few months. It’s the reason I associate any MCR song with the smell of hair dye,” Wells continued, and Bellamy’s laughter only grew louder. This was not what Clarke meant when she asked Wells to be nice to Bellamy.

“Well, Finn was a dick.”

“Yep,” Bellamy chimed in.

“You’ve never even met him,” Clarke pointed out.

“Don’t care. Hate him,” he smirked, and she playfully nudged him in the side. “So, is America’s Next Top Model over there gonna buy a painting?”

“Not sure,” she huffed. She was pretty sure he was shopping around for a date, not a painting.

“Knew you should have gone with the shorter dress,” Wells teased, and she hit his knee. “I’m not saying you sleep with him to sell a painting. I’m saying let him think you might sleep with him if he buys a painting.”

“Wells,” Bellamy and Clarke snapped in unison.

Wells leaned back, faking an appalled expression. “Oh, I do not like this ganging up on me,” he said, shaking his head at both of them.

“You two were just ganging up on me,” Clarke pointed out.

“Good, that means it’s Bellamy’s turn,” Wells cheered.

“Okay, I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Bellamy chuckled, patting Clarke on the knee before standing up. “Be right back.”

Wells turned to watch him walk away before snapping his head quickly in Clarke’s direction. “You have a problem.”

“Oh, come on. I was barely even talking to Bellamy this time,” she groaned, not in the mood for another speech about her being in love with someone who doesn’t want her.

“Not that. He asked me if I knew who your soulmate was,” Wells said, and Clarke’s eyes widened. “I said that I obviously knew since I’m your best friend. Then, I asked why he was so curious.”

“And?”

“He tried to shrug it off, but you know me. I kept bothering him about it,” he explained, and Clarke let out a groan. “Nothing obvious, just normal Wells Jaha pestering I swear. Anyway, he said he recently realized that he’d never seen your soulmark and thought that was weird.”

Clarke swore under her breath. Wells was about to continue when Bellamy came back into sight. She swallowed and forced a smile when he rejoined them. “Are you two going to gang up on me now?” he teased.

“Sadly, that will have to wait. Clarke needs to go talk to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome over there again,” Wells said, nodding his head toward Roan.

“Right,” she remembered, trying to shake off what Wells told her. Talking to Roan again was a welcome distraction, though it didn’t silence Clarke’s fears about Bellamy trying to figure out who her soulmate was.

“So, it went well?” Bellamy asked before taking another bite of pizza.

“That’s what Luna said,” Clarke replied, setting down her drink. Wells had rushed home because he didn’t want to miss his shows, but Bellamy stuck around to grab something to eat after. She still felt a little uneasy around him after the soulmark discussion he had with Wells, but she tugged her hoodie on from earlier, an extra layer covering her mark.

“Did that guy buy a painting?” he asked.

“I thought you were calling him America’s Next Top Model?” she teased, and he rolled his eyes.

“Got a better look at him. He wasn’t that good looking,” he muttered, and Clarke burst out laughing. “I mean, he was okay if that’s your type.”

“He did buy a painting,” Clarke giggled.

“And then he gave you his number?” Bellamy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Handed me his business card,” she sighed, shaking her head. Roan even wrote his personal number on the back for her. Clarke wasn’t going to lie… it was kind of a nice ego boost to have someone hit on her. But she’d never follow up on it. She was too hung up on her soulmate who she couldn’t actually have. “Don’t know why he was so persistent though,” she muttered.

“Well, tonight you look all—” Bellamy cut himself off as soon as Clarke snapped her head up to look at him. There was a deer in the headlights look in his eyes that confused her. “You know, okay,” he choked out, and Clarke chuckled to herself.

“Oh, thank you. I’ve dreamed all my life that a man would tell me I look okay, and now I can die happy,” she joked, nudging his leg under the table. It was cute how his cheeks reddened at her teasing.

“Okay, it’s not like you weren’t already aware you look beautiful,” he huffed. She blinked a few times at him, that word sinking into her chest. Bellamy had always given her compliments, telling her how smart she is or giving her small reassurances throughout the day… each warming her heart and putting a smile on her face. But he had never said that before.

Clarke ducked her head before he noticed her dumbstruck expression, the way her cheeks went red and her lips were fighting back a huge smile.

“So, combine that with your normal charming personality and that he could see how talented you are, and I’m not surprised he was so persistent,” he continued, and at this point, Clarke was drowning in his compliments, unsure of what to say next. “Plus, whenever anyone covers up their soulmark, it’s pretty much a signal that they’re available.”

Her throat went dry and frantically grabbed at her drink. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to spend time with Bellamy after he spent an evening asking Wells about her soulmark. But it wasn’t like Clarke would ever willingly say no to more time with Bellamy.

“Oh,” was all she could think of to say.

“Do you normally cover yours up?” he asked casually, like this was a curious inquiry and not the interrogation that it felt like to Clarke. She sucked in a breath, reminding herself that Bellamy has no reason to suspect his name is on her wrist. He probably noticed it was covered up and realized he didn’t know anything about it, which would be odd considering how much time they spend together.

“Not all the time,” she replied, which technically wasn’t a lie. She just had it covered whenever she was with Bellamy. “Look, it’s personal, you know? And I’m not crazy about everybody knowing about my soulmark.”

“Makes sense,” Bellamy said, nodding along. But she could tell he wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. “But you’ve shown some people, like Wells.”

“Wells was sitting next to me when I got it,” Clarke said. There were a ton of people who knew that Bellamy’s name was on her wrist. Her parents, Finn, Lexa, Wells, a majority of her college classmates. Clarke never cared about hiding it before she met Bellamy. “Why the sudden interest in my soulmark?”

“Just curious,” he mumbled, looking down at his soda.

He opened his mouth like he was about to ask another question. “So, how is Murphy’s job search going?” she asked, stopping him from being able to push the subject further. For a moment, he looked disappointed, but he quickly fell into a rant about how obnoxious Murphy has gotten in the past month. She could breathe easier the deeper they got into the conversation, feeling more secure in keeping her secret.

But Bellamy was onto her now, meaning she had to either come clean or get much better at deflecting his questions. And it wasn’t like Clarke could tell him.

So, when Clarke got home, she announced, “I’m screwed.”

Wells turned the volume down on the TV and cocked his head in her direction. “Yes, you are,” he replied. “Did he ask you who it was?”

“No, I cut him off before the conversation could get that far,” she explained, sighing as she fell onto the couch beside him. “Wait, did he ask you who it was?”

“Yes, he did. And I said that he should ask you that.” Clarke picked up the pillow and groaned loudly into it.

“Why is he fixating on this?” she mumbled into the fabric.

“Well, maybe he really is curious. I mean, it’s kind of weird to realize one day that you don’t know who your friend’s soulmate is,” Wells offered. “Or, more likely, he’s been wondering this for a while and only now brought it up.”

“But why does he care?”

“Same reason he got into that fight with his sister about her soulmate,” Wells replied.

Clarke sat upright, her eyes growing wide. Oh. Bellamy was worried about her soulmate. Concerned that maybe they weren’t a good person, possibly the kind that would hurt Clarke. She should have seen this coming. Bellamy cared about her, loved her even, though not in the same way Clarke loved him. Of course, he would be worrying about her soulmate given his history with soulmates.

There was no way to reassure Bellamy that she knew for a fact her soulmate would never hurt her… not without telling him the truth. And she couldn’t tell him the truth because Bellamy was still scared of the name that was supposed to appear on his wrist.

She knew Bellamy. He wasn’t going to let this go. Sure, right now, it was easy enough to change the subject or give vague answers. But the closer they got, the more stressed he would get over it. He wouldn’t stop asking, and eventually, Clarke would run out of ways to avoid the question.

Her fingers traced over her wrist, where Bellamy’s name was covered by makeup. There was an obvious, simple solution… one that she hated more than anything. She should get the mark removed.

Chapter Text

She couldn’t stop staring at the mark. It was beautiful, though she only noticed its beauty once she met Bellamy and felt the weight of the mark. It was a connection to him that she could never have with anyone else. And the idea of removing it felt like agreeing to cut off one of her own limbs. There wouldn’t be a day where Clarke would look at her wrist and not miss his name on it.

She jerked her head away, slamming her eyes shut. It was just a mark. The mark wasn’t the connection she had to Bellamy. If the world had been different and there had been no soulmates, the pull toward him would remain as strong. So, in the grand scheme of things, the mark didn’t really mean anything, which meant removing it wasn’t a big deal.

But it still felt like a big deal. No amount of logic could surpass the way her heart lurched at the idea of removing it. Yet her mind couldn’t come up with a way to conceal her soulmate from Bellamy forever. She was stuck.

Clarke had been sitting on this idea for days, arguing back and forth over it. It would be easier if she talked to someone about it. But her first pick on this issue is Bellamy, and she can’t talk about this with Bellamy since it was about Bellamy.

That left Wells, whose eyes grew wide and panicked as soon as she explained the idea. “Have you lost your mind?” he snapped, which was the reaction she should have anticipated. “You would rather have it surgically removed than have a normal conversation with Bellamy about it?”

“He is always going to be looking for my soulmark or asking about it,” Clarke explained again. “But removing it fixes that. It hides my soulmark and tells him that I didn’t want my soulmate so he has nothing to worry about.”

“But you do want your soulmate,” Wells shouted, slapping his hands on the kitchen table. “You are so in love with him that you aren’t thinking straight.”

“Well, I’ve never really thought straight,” she snickered.

“This is not a time for a bisexual joke,” Wells huffed, throwing his head back. “Clarke, this is something that can’t be undone. Don’t do it.”

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to,” Clarke muttered. “I’m considering it as an option.”

“No,” he yelled. “It is not an option. I won’t let you do it.”

“Well, you don’t exactly get to decide for me,” Clarke snapped. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Tell him!” Clarke buried her face in her hands, trying to hold back her tears of frustration. All she had been thinking about these past few days is what would happen if he did find out. He’d definitely pull away. If the roles were reversed, she’d be furious that he kept it from her for so long. Maybe he’d cut her out of his life. But no matter how she looked at it, she knew that things would change between them if he knew. And she didn’t want anything to change. Bellamy was comfortable around her, happier than he had been in a while… and she’d hate herself if this changed that.

Clarke threw herself onto the couch, burying her face into the pillow. “Clarke,” Wells whispered, and she shook her head. “You love your soulmark.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she mumbled into the cushion.

“It didn’t before you met him,” he countered, and she knew he was right. Before, it was just a name. It wasn’t until it became his name that it felt like an important piece of her. But what was the point in keeping it? She would never really be his soulmate, not when he was still anxious and scared of soulmates.

The more she thought about it, the more her head went in circles. She knew removing the mark wasn’t a real solution for all her problems. But it was the only thing she could think of besides lying to Bellamy for the rest of her life.

Clarke sat up abruptly, sucking in a shallow breath. “I need a drink,” she decided.

“Clarke, we are having a conversation,” Wells said, cocking his head to the side as Clarke went to grab her shoes.

“A conversation we can continue having at a bar,” she replied.

“Pro: I wouldn’t have to bend over backwards to keep it hidden anymore,” Clarke said, resting her cheek in her palm.

“Con: you’d be losing the soulmark that has the name of the guy you’re madly in love with,” Wells said for the third time tonight.

“No repeats! Drink,” she snapped, sliding the glass over to him. With a groan, he took a big gulp. “Pro: losing the mark might make it easier to just be his friend and I’d stop being in love with him.”

“That’s a hypothetical. Drink,” he snorted, sliding the glass back to her. She took a long gulp, though she needed to start drinking water soon. Her head was feeling too light too quickly. When she looked up at Wells, he was typing away on his phone again.

“Who are you texting?” Clarke huffed. There couldn’t be any conversation more important than the one they were having now.

“My turn again?” Wells said, letting his phone fall onto the chair beside him. “Con: you haven’t even given him a choice in this.”

“Oh, come on,” Clarke groaned. “He told me he didn’t want to know his soulmate.”

“No, he said he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know his soulmate. And that entire convo is suspect because to Bellamy, it was all hypothetical. You really think he’d answer the same way if he knew there was a surefire way to know who his soulmate is?”

“Pretty sure he would,” Clarke argued. “I think knowing it was actually possible would swing him into a ‘no way in hell’ response.”

“Yeah, if it was going to be some stranger, but it’s you. He knows you. He feels comfortable and safe with you. He would be ecstatic to have that soulmate-sized weight off his chest when he realized it was you this whole time.”

“Or he runs,” Clarke said, looking Wells square in the eye. “No potential positive outcome outweighs that horrible possibility. Not to me.” She couldn’t lose Bellamy. She could survive losing the mark, but not him. “So, I’m getting it removed.”

Wells’ phone buzzed, causing him to break eye contact. “We’ll see,” was all he muttered in response. He set his phone down and peered out of their booth, waving to someone. “Bellamy, over here!”

Clarke leaned across the table to smack his arm. “What the hell?” she hissed. Wells smirked at her in response before she heard Bellamy walking up to them. She was going to kill Wells for this.

“Clarke, scoot over,” Bellamy said, and Clarke finally stopped glaring at Wells long enough to see him. He had his glasses on, which she rarely saw him in. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the scar on his wrist. She didn’t see it often, though each time she did it served as a reminder of why she couldn’t tell Bellamy the truth. If Wells thought that bringing Bellamy here would change her mind, he was dead wrong. Seeing that scar only strengthened her resolve to get her marked removed.

“Glad you could make it,” Wells said calmly, as if he hadn’t been scheming this whole time. She took the glass from him and began drinking. “What are you having?” he asked, already getting up.

“Just water for me,” he replied before glancing over at Clarke. “And a water for Clarke too,” he chuckled, earning a laugh from Wells.

“I’m not drunk,” Clarke argued, and Bellamy’s smirk only grew.

“Of course not,” he teased.

Clarke was drunk, more so than she thought. Certainly not able to operate a motorized vehicle and in need of a designated driver, which was apparently the excuse Wells used to get Bellamy to the bar. The one comfort Clarke had was that she wasn’t completely alone with Bellamy. Wells was a buffer so that Bellamy couldn’t start asking her about her soulmate.

… which was probably why Wells ditched them when he met someone at the bar. Clarke might be drunk, but she definitely caught the way Wells winked at her before leaving. That was the smug look of someone who thought their plan was going perfectly. And if his plan was for a very drunk Clarke to pine even harder for Bellamy, it was going well. But his plan was to stop Clarke from getting her mark removed, and that plan would fail the second Bellamy started hounding her about her soulmark, only strengthening her resolve to get rid of it.

Bellamy had his arm tight around her waist as he guided her into her building. “You have your keys, right?” he asked again, and Clarke dangled them in front of him proudly. He snatched them from her hand, chuckling quietly. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

“I am not,” she huffed, trying to pull away in protest. But he had a firm grip on her and pulled her back against him. She giggled when she fell back into his chest. “You’re a handful,” she mumbled into his shirt. She closed her eyes when she breathed in his scent and found herself burying her face further into his shirt. He just smelled so warm and so soft and so Bellamy.

“Okay, I’m speeding this up,” he muttered, and next thing she knew her feet weren’t on the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling happily into his shoulder. He was still talking to her, though she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She hummed along anyway, content to feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke. She loved this. She loved him. She loved her soulmate.

Her slowly sobering up mind jumped at the last thought, reminding her that it wasn’t real. She wasn’t really his soulmate because he didn’t want one. But she was just drunk enough that she let herself have it. One last night of pretending it could be real. She could have that. And tomorrow she could move forward on her plan to remove the mark.

She was only vaguely aware she was in her apartment, only fully grasping it when Bellamy set her on her bed. Her pillow felt heavenly beneath her head. “Don’t fall asleep just yet,” she heard him say. “I want to talk to you.”

“No talking,” she grumbled but gave in as Bellamy pulled her to sit up. She rested her head onto his shoulder, letting herself take his hand in hers.

“Wells told me what you’re planning to do, Clarke.” Oh, Clarke was going to kill Wells tomorrow for this. “Whose name is on your wrist?”

“Why do you want to know so bad?” Clarke snapped, looking up at him a little too quickly. She was too drunk for this conversation. “If I want to get my soulmark removed, I can.”

“I’m worried,” he replied, his eyes soft as he looked at her. Even as he was confronting her, he was still gentle, still so kind. She just wanted to bury her face into his chest again and have him hold her. She dropped her eyes down to their hands, not trusting herself to look into his kind eyes and not confess the truth. “Do you know them? Have they hurt you? What is pushing you make such a drastic choice like this?”

“It’s nothing like that,” she reassured. “He’d never hurt me.” She traced the lines of his palm, using it as a distraction from the panicked voices in her head. She heard Bellamy open his mouth to speak again, so she spoke before he got the chance to ask another question. “Why is it so weird to you that I want to remove the mark? I thought you’d get it even when Wells doesn’t. I mean, you don’t want your soulmate, right?”

She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. They opened a door that would break her heart, and she knew whatever Bellamy said in response would hurt. When he didn’t speak right away, she glanced up at him. He was staring at her, brows furrowed as he thought of what to say.

“You’re right,” he whispered, and Clarke felt like she had been punched in the stomach. “I don’t want my soulmate.” And there the horrifying confession was, the one Clarke had always known was there. Whatever flimsy hope she had been holding onto as she stared at her soulmark late at night was dead. “But I have my reasons. What are yours?”

She removed her hand from his, shaking her head. “Just have one reason,” she mumbled. She tried sliding away from him, but she was still too drunk to keep her balance. Bellamy caught her, holding her up against him.

“Clarke,” he whispered.

“My soulmate doesn’t want me,” she confessed, hoping that saying it aloud would take the weight of it off her. But it just made the growing longing burn worse. She didn’t catch how Bellamy reacted to that before he pulled her into him. His hand rested firmly on the back of her head, while his other hand rubbed up her back.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair, and she knew she needed to pull away. No good would come from letting him hold her like this, not when it was torturing her broken heart. But she couldn’t pull away. It felt too nice to be in his warm embrace. To be enveloped in his soft scent. To feel him press a kiss to the top of her head. To feel loved by him.

And she was loved by him… but not in the way her heart longed for. She thought she had made peace with that, but the burning in her chest screamed otherwise.

She didn’t try to pull away from him, instead embracing the last moment she let herself believe in soulmates.

Clarke didn’t remember getting into bed. The last thing she remembered was crying into Bellamy’s chest… which means she likely fell asleep like that and Bellamy tucked her in after. She rolled onto her side, seeing the aspirin and water he must have set aside for her. She swallowed the pills before sleepily making her way to the bathroom.

The night started to come back to her in pieces while she was in the shower. Her argument with Wells, Bellamy showing up, and the heartbreaking confession that deemed all of Wells’ argument points moot. Bellamy didn’t want his soulmate, so Clarke finally had her answer. She would make an appointment to get the mark removed first thing tomorrow, she’d put a little distance between her and Bellamy while she got over her feelings for him, and her life could start to feel normal again. No more hiding marks, no more longing for Bellamy… a clean slate.

Once she was out of the shower and dressed, she stumbled into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. “Clarke,” she heard Bellamy say, and she whipped her head around to see him sitting upright on the couch. He was wearing the same outfit from last night, rubbing his eyes before putting his glasses back on.

“You didn’t go home?” she asked.

“No,” he mumbled, following her into the kitchen. She shook her head, not understanding why he was still here. It wasn’t like Clarke really wanted to see him right now given what he said to her last night.

“Did Wells make it back?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Well, someone had a good night,” she snorted as she opened up the fridge. When he didn’t have a witty remark, Clarke glanced back at him. His eyes were a bit red, dark circles forming under them. “Did you sleep at all?” she asked, closing the fridge door to step closer to him. “I warned you about how awful sleeping on that couch was.”

“Got an hour or so,” he muttered, bracing one hand on the counter. “Clarke, I need to talk to you.”

Her stomach dropped at the serious tone, though she didn’t know what else there was to say. “If this is about me removing my soulmark, save it,” she huffed.

“Don’t do it,” he pleaded, his eyes piercing as he looked at her. “Please.”

“Bellamy, Wells should never have told you I was considering it. Frankly, I never should have told Wells. It is my decision to make, and I’m doing it,” she explained, crossing her arms as she stared him down.

His eyes fell shut, and he let out a sigh. “Clarke,” Bellamy breathed.

This was why Wells brought Bellamy into it… because he knew Clarke would do anything for Bellamy. He knew his best shot at getting Clarke to change her mind was to get Bellamy to plead for her to. And she could feel herself wanting to give in, but she knew she couldn’t. The mark had to go. It was the best thing for her and it was the best thing for Bellamy.

“Please, don’t remove my name from your wrist,” he murmured, and Clarke’s heart felt like it would pound itself out of her chest.

He knows. But how? Clarke had been careful, so careful. She wore long sleeves last night, tugging them down at every opportunity. She kept it covered whenever Bellamy was nearby. Clarke did everything she could to keep this hidden from him, so how did he know?

She hadn’t realized she started crying until Bellamy called out her name again. She turned away, fixing her eyes on the cabinet in front of her as she tried to get her thoughts in order. “I know I shouldn’t have looked, but I was worried and panicked… and I just needed to know who it was,” he said quietly, and Clarke sucked in a breath. He looked at her wrist after she fell asleep last night, of course. She clenched her eyes shut, shaking her head. “I’ve wanted to know for a while now, but you wouldn’t tell me.”

Slowly, she turned her head to look at him, catching him staring at her. Her lips parted, knowing she had to say something to him. But what could she possibly say after all this? “Why did you want to know so badly?” she whispered.

He settled beside her, leaning against the sink and staring at the wall in front of him. “Because people tend to leave when they find their soulmate. And I… I don’t know. Just wanted to know how long I had until you did too.” She swallowed, looking down at her hands. He thought she was going to leave him. It shouldn’t surprise her that this was a fear of his. He was worried about it with everyone in his life. But she loved him, and she couldn’t leave even if she tried. “Which knowing what I do now makes me feel silly, but that’s just what was going on in my head.”

“Bellamy, I—”

“Clarke,” he interrupted, jerking his head in her direction. Her eyes peered up at him, panicked about how he felt right now. Her greatest fear was finally happening, and she just prayed Wells was right about Bellamy and she was wrong. “I have not slept because I was thinking through this conversation all night, so let me say all this, okay?”

She nodded, slamming her mouth shut. He tugged off his glasses to rub his eyes again. Clarke found herself instinctively moving to pull down her sleeve before stopping herself. There was no point to hiding it anymore. He already knew.

“Last night, I said something that you misinterpreted,” he started, very rehearsed. “Had this conversation taken place when you were sober, I would have been clearer about what I meant.”

“Bellamy, you don’t have to—”

“Clarke,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I did mean to say that I don’t want my soulmate. But the longer explanation is this: why would I want a soulmate when I have you?” Clarke blinked a few times, not sure she heard him correctly. But when he opened his eyes, they were soft and gentle like they always were for her. “And it broke my heart to hear you say that your soulmate didn’t want you, because who could know you and then not want you? It ate away at me the whole time I held you, and I couldn’t help but look at your soulmark to see who your idiot soulmate was.”

“And the idiot soulmate was you,” she chuckled involuntarily.

“The idiot soulmate was me,” he repeated, a small smirk on his lips.

He was still watching her with those gentle, dark eyes of his, though not as severely as before. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I didn’t… I just wasn’t sure how to—”

“I know,” he whispered, stepping toward her to cup her cheek in his hand. His thumb wiped away one of her tears. She searched his eyes, searching for any sign of panic or fear… any signal that he looked at her differently now. “After what I told you, I don’t blame you.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“I was a little mad at about four in the morning,” he snorted. “I mean, you kept this secret from me for more than a year. But I did wait until you were passed out drunk to look at your soulmark even though you made it clear you didn’t want me to see it. So, I think we’re even.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, wiping away the last of her tears. “That was kind of a dick move. Not sure I can forgive you for—”

He cut her off by tilting her head up with his finger and pressing his lips into hers. Her hands flew to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as his soft lips grazed hers. He pulled away too soon, before she could even kiss him back. “Come back,” she whispered, and the sweetest smile took over his whole face. She loved that smile. She loved him.

When he didn’t act fast enough, she took his face between her hands and pulled him back to her, kissing him frantically. But it didn’t really work. His smile was contagious, and between both their ridiculous grins, the kisses were too messy and uncoordinated. But that didn’t stop him from pulling her tight against him or her from giggling happily against his lips.

“Yes!” she heard Wells shout. She pulled away from Bellamy’s lips, turning her head to see Wells in the doorway of the apartment. She must not have heard him open the door. “You two must have had a fun night,” he teased.

“I really didn’t,” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at Wells’ confused expression. “I couldn’t even sleep.”

“I bet you couldn’t,” Wells smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at them.

“Wells,” she snapped, but the smug expression on his face didn’t leave. “You’re interrupting our first kiss. Go to your room.”

“Wait, your first… what?” he stuttered out in confusion.

“Go to your room,” Bellamy ordered. Clarke giggled into his shirt as she heard Wells jog toward his own bedroom.

As soon as she heard his door shut and his lock turn, he shouted, “Clarke, I’m still waiting for a thank you!” Clarke moved to lunge toward his room, but Bellamy held her back.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she grumbled.

“No, you’re not,” Bellamy smirked. She leaned up to kiss him, this time not as messy as before. He melted into her, sighing happily into her mouth as he cupped her cheek.

When they pulled away, Bellamy had to stifle a yawn. “Okay, we’re taking a nap,” Clarke decided, pulling him by the hand toward her room.

“You just woke up. You don’t need a nap,” he groaned.

“I’m hungover. A nap sounds really good right now,” she chuckled. “Don’t you want to take a nap with me?”

He didn’t protest as she pulled him into her room. In fact, he seemed all too happy to crawl into her bed with her. She tucked herself into him, her heart skipping a beat as he pulled her into his chest. She peered up at him, catching him staring at her. His eyes were so soft, so gentle, that she couldn’t help but whisper, “You know I love you, right?”

He froze for a moment, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Well, I do now,” he grinned. “And you know I love you too, right?” She nodded as she leaned up to kiss him, placing her fingers below his jaw to pull him toward her.

He pressed a slow, closed-mouth kiss to her lips but pulled away too soon. She opened her mouth to protest, but Bellamy was reaching for her hand. He pulled it off his jaw before pressing another kiss to her wrist, right over her soulmark. She held her breath as he pulled away, opening his eyes to look at the mark. His thumb traced over the letters, his eyes transfixed by the sight.  

“You won’t remove it, right?” he asked, not taking his eyes off it.

“I won’t. I promise,” she replied. “Didn’t really want to. I love looking at it.” His lips formed a smile at her words, and he pressed another kiss to the mark. “I look at it a lot at night when I can’t fall asleep. Makes me feel like you’re here with me.”

He pressed his lips together, furrowing his brows as he examined her wrist more closely. “How hard would it be to imitate a soulmark, do you think?” he asked.

“Probably not too hard,” she mused. She might know some tattoo artists who could. “Why?”

“Because I want to be able to look at your name on my wrist whenever I’m missing you,” he replied, and Clarke felt something flutter in her chest. “It’d be on the wrong wrist, but I don’t really care.” He finally looked away from her soulmark, eyeing Clarke curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” she beamed, not sure she quite believes that Bellamy wants his soulmark… that he wants her. But it was real. Bellamy loves her, and she loves him. She was keeping his name on her skin and he wanted to put her name on his. “I just love you.”