Archive of Our Own

Bellamy unlocked the front door with a huff and the first thing he noticed was that he must’ve forgotten to turn off the lamp on the side table because there was a glow coming from the living room.

The second was a large box standing in the middle of the hallway and he only did that because he tripped over it and very nearly counted the floorboards with his teeth. Catching himself on the clothes rack, he swore under his breath.

“Watch out, it’s a gift for my mother,” came a muffled voice from the living room and Bellamy promptly dropped his keys and backpack onto the floor with a rather embarrassing yelp.

Gritting his teeth, he kicked the box to the side and marched into the living room where he found his roommate sitting on a couch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket with some movie paused on the tv and her chewing pizza loudly. The large pizza box was laying on the table half-full and it made him frown—that was a two-day meal for Clarke.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way home?” she asked before he could say anything.

Bellamy shook his head, leaning against the doorframe.

“Octavia called, asked me to bring some of her old stuff with me,” he explained.

His sister moved out so abruptly three years ago when she got a new job with a travel magazine that she’d left him high and dry with a lease, no way to make rent for more than a couple of months and a room full of all the crap she couldn’t have taken with her. It was only by some miracle that his boss Diyoza told him that someone she knew was looking for a place. It was an even bigger miracle that he and Clarke managed to not rip each other to shreds during the first few months and actually came out of it a friends.

Such good friends that it took Clarke all of one look to figure him out. “You left an hour ago,” she pointed out. They both knew that it meant he’d must have made it at least outside the city when Octavia called—and yet, he still turned around and went back home.

“She’s my sister,” he simply said and Clarke nodded once, not taking the bait. She truly knew him too well—knew that if she argued, he’d just defend Octavia and it would lead them no-where. So instead, Clarke just gave him a pointed look.

Looking around the living room, Bellamy realised that it didn’t look like a place that would sit empty for half a week—more like Clarke had built herself a nest there.

“My turn now. What are you doing here?” he asked, somewhat confused.

Clarke just sent him an unimpressed look. “I live here.”

“Okay, what is food doing here?” he continued, gesturing to the box.

Clarke followed his hand with her eyes and then looked back at him with the same expression. “I didn’t feel like cooking,”

Bellamy swallowed a remark about how good of an instinct that was, considering her overwhelming lack of talent in that area and just walked over to her. Rubbing his forehead, he sat down in the armchair, his jacket puffing around him.

“I thought you were spending Christmas at home,” he said softly.

“I am,” Clarke answered, waving the pizza slice around but at least she had the decency to look just a little bit ashamed for jerking him around like she was.

Feeling tired and frustrated, Bellamy clenched his teeth. “Can you please stop dismissing me and explain? Why aren’t you going to California? And haven’t I already seen you mail that box like a week ago?”

Clarke exhaled loudly and tossed the pizza slice back to the box. She sat up straighter, the blanked pooling in her lap. There was a sudden vulnerability in her eyes that took Bellamy’s breath away. He had the urge to go to her and wrap her in his arms and never let go—not that it was an unfamiliar feeling but he still ignored it.

Clarke scratched the side of her head, screwing up her face like she was considering what to say.

“You’re right, I have sent the gift already,” she confirmed, starting from the seemingly least important part. But Bellamy didn’t mention that, he just listened.

“Well, technically, I gave it to my step father when he came to the city and my mother sent it back, like she always does,” she continued with a sad grimace. “I haven’t actually spoken to her in over five years, since I told her I wasn’t going to med school.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows shot up and he blinked. “You’re doing cancer research,” he said dumbly.

“Yeah, but I’m not a surgeon, like my mother had planned,” Clarke countered with a shrug and looked at her lap.

Bellamy was stunned silent for a moment, confused. He remembered how proud he was on Clarke’s behalf when she got her PhD and was offered a spot with one of the most prestigious teams. His irritation over Clarke’s dodges dissipated, replaced instead by a slight hurt—he knew that Clarke had a difficult relationship with her mother but damn it, they were best friends, they’d been living together for three years now and he shared all the gory details of his own misfortunes, how come she never told him how bad it was for her?

He leaned back in the armchair and took Clarke in. She still wasn’t looking at him, instead she was picking at a loose thread in the blanket with restless fingers. Again, a wave of affection came and Bellamy had to stop himself from taking her hands in his. His stupid crush would just have to wait.

“So all those times I saw ‘home’ calling you? The dinners with family?” Bellamy was still bewildered. It’s not that he thought that Clarke was outright lying to him, it’s just—

Clarke hummed and finally looked at him again. “That was all Marcus, my stepfather. He comes to the city for business sometimes, lets me know how things are going.” She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips. “Ever since I announced that I’m going into research and my mother decided she’d only see me again once I wised up, he tried to change her mind but after a while, he figured it was pointless. Of all the traits I inherited from my father, I got my stubbornness from my mother,” she explained with a weak smirk.

“And the gift?” Bellamy asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“I got it the first Christmas after the fight. I gave it to Marcus when he came, he gave it to my mother, she sent it back. And we’ve been dancing like that, with that same gift, ever since.”

Clarke looked towards the hallway. “Each year, I wait for it thinking ‘maybe this time she’ll accept it’ and every time I get it back, it sucks just as much,” she said with a tiny sniffle.

Bellamy stared at Clarke, feeling like he’d just seen a whole new side of her. And it broke his heart.

“How come you never told me?” he asked gently.

Clarke waved her hand without a direction. “It happened before we even met, I haven’t really told anyone,” she shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. But then, “the only parent I have left hadn’t said a word to me in five years because I made a decision without asking her permission and she thinks I did it out of spite. I don’t know how to talk about it.”

She deflated visibly, as if finally getting it all off her chest drained her of all the energy. Bellamy saw that her eyes glazed over with unshed tears and in a split second, he made a decision.

“Okay, come on,” he said getting up from the arm chair. “You’re coming with me.”

Clarke’s head snapped up to look at him. “What? Where?”

“Home,” he announced. “My home.”

“Bellamy,” she protested weakly but when he outstretched his arm to pull her up, she took it.

“I don’t want to impose.”

Bellamy shook his head. “You won’t, I’m inviting you,” he insisted.

Still she hesitated.

Taking her other hand, Bellamy squeezed her fingers and sent her a smile. “I want you to come,” he assured. “Granted, you won’t know anyone but me and Octavia, but at least you won’t be alone. I just—“ he inhaled. “I don’t want you to be alone,” he said quietly.

Whatever feelings of disappointment he may have felt over finding out what a huge thing Clarke had kept from him had been drowned out by overwhelming hurt of knowing what she’d gone through all that alone. And no wounded pride was more important that making sure that she had a good Christmas for once.

When she finally smiled shyly, Bellamy knew they were a go. Squeezing her hands once again, he smiled back.

“Okay, go and pack for cold weather, enough to last you till Sunday. I’m gonna find my sister’s stuff and we can hit the road,” he instructed.

Her mood lifting, Clarke grinned at him and threw him a mock salute.

Watching her walk out of the living room and towards her bedroom, Bellamy couldn’t help but wonder if the tightening in his chest was the result of the story Clarke had told him or was it because he was about to introduce the girl he had fallen for to his family.

***

Clarke was fast asleep by the time they reached Bellamy’s hometown of Arkadia. They talked a little on the way, Bellamy told her who to expect at the Christmas table but once they hit the motorway, the conversation petered out and the ride lulled her to sleep.  

Knowing how hard Clarke had been working recently, trying to finalise a new grant proposal before the end of year, Bellamy was hesitant to wake her up but didn’t have another choice. Honestly, Bellamy would’ve happily carried her inside but he knew well enough that the last thing Clarke would’ve wanted was to be seen by his mother for the first time while she was asleep and not in control of herself.

He unfastened both their seatbelts and shook her gently until she stirred awake. His breath hitched at the back of his throat when Clarke blinked awake and looked at him with soft, sleepy eyes and a sweet smile.

“Come on, we’re here,” he said quietly, half because he didn’t want to jolt her and half because he was worried his voice might betray his emotions.

Clarke scrambled out of the car and stretched, looking around with curiosity while he pulled their bags out of the boot and by the time he rang the bell, they were standing side by side. Or technically, he stood straight and Clarke sort of slumped against his side, one hand wrapped around his elbow for support, eyes half-closed.

Bellamy only just let go off the doorbell and his mother was already there, pulling the door open, the sudden gust of wind lifting the snow from the doorstep.

“Bell, sweetie, you’re finally here!” his mother exclaimed. She put her hands on his cheeks and brought his face closer, so she could place a loud kiss on his forehead.

He lead Clarke inside, closed the door and hugged his mother. In the meantime, Clarke hand slipped from his elbow but instead of letting go, she just wrapped her fingers around his and held on with a loose grip. She seemed more awake now, watching him greet his mother with a smile—and yet, Bellamy could see a hint of grief in her eyes. He squeezed her hand in support.

Then, his mother let go of him and her focus shifted to their guest.

“You must be Clarke, I’m Aurora.” She came closer and pulled Clarke into a quick hug. It took her by surprise and Bellamy could see it in her face. It wore off quickly enough and she managed to reciprocate unsurely.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, hun, I’ve heard so much about you,” Aurora continued and took Clarke’s other hand in hers. She sent a not-at-all subtle nod to Bellamy, letting him know she very much noticed him still holding Clarke’s other hand.

Still, before he had the chance to react, his mother was already pulling Clarke further into the house, leaving him to follow. They stopped in front of his old bedroom and Bellamy’s gut stirred when his mother opened the door and led them inside.

“I made the bed for the both of you here, hope you don’t mind,” Aurora said to Clarke with a smile, not even looking at her son. “The bed isn’t that big but we’re gonna be a little tight on space this year.”

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up in alarm and Bellamy could tell she was about to insist she didn’t want to be a bother but apparently Aurora figured it out as well. She shook Clarke’s hand reassuringly.

“Don’t worry about a thing, darling. It’s just that Octavia brought a boy with her, too, and my sister is bringing all the kids. But we’ve got enough room and food for everyone. And no-one is going to bother you two here,” she explained. Then, she winked at the two of them and all of Bellamy’s blood drained from his face.

“No, mum, it’s not, uhm, we’re not—“ he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His mother shot him an amused look, one eye brow cocked, and waited for him to finish the sentence.

Instead, Clarke waved her free arm at him, ended up blindly slapping his shoulder lightly.

“Oh, give over, Bellamy,” she huffed with a yawn. “We’ve slept together on the couch enough times, you know I don’t bite.”

She sounded like she was about to fall asleep standing up and he had to concede. Seeing him nod his head, Aurora let go of Clarke and moved towards the door. She patted Bellamy’s cheek on her way out and Bellamy had to try his very best to ignore her knowing smirk.

***

Christmas Eve was an experience.

It was still pretty early when he woke up from some weird dream, half of his body practically hanging off of the side of the bed and Clarke’s arm draped over his back. Bellamy took a moment to appreciate the fact the for the first time in his life, he woke up in his childhood bed with a girl by his side—his high school girlfriend was the only one he ever introduced to Aurora but at 18, he didn’t dare even propose that Gina stayed the night at his place. And of all the women in the world he could’ve brought home and into his bed, it just had to be Clarke who ended up being the first. Because of course she did.

Crawling out from under her without waking her up was a challenge but he managed to avoid landing face-first on the floor and left her sleeping in his bed, hugging tightly the pillow he’d left behind.

He was still only half-awake when his sister accosted him in the corridor, asking what was going on between him and Clarke and honestly, it was way too much to analyse this early in the morning, before he even had his first coffee. Luckily, when they entered the kitchen, Octavia’s new boyfriend Levitt was already there and Bellamy was able to distract his sister into talking about her own relationship.

Levitt seemed like a nice, non-threatening guy, and frankly—unlike anyone Octavia had dated before. But he looked at her like she’d hung the moon, so Bellamy chose to skip his usual interrogation routine – also known as his overprotective bullshit, apparently.

And then, his aunt, uncle and cousins came—six people in total who somehow had to make do with one guest bedroom, the pull-out couch in the living room and sharing a single-family home with four other people.

As always, aunt Jasmine smothered him and Octavia with shockingly invasive personal questions, so of course Clarke had to choose that very moment to emerge from his bedroom while wearing only his long cardigan over her pyjamas and do what she always did on a day off when she had the chance to sleep in – marched up to him, pressed herself against his side and silently begged him to share his breakfast with the best puppy dog eyes he’d seen since Octavia turned 10.

It took about a whole cup of coffee before Clarke finally realised that it wasn’t just the two of them in the kitchen and it was almost like someone had poured a bucket of cold water on her. Immediately, she stepped away from him, straightened up and smiled politely at their company.

For a split second, Bellamy battled between feeling disappointed that she had suddenly become so uncomfortable around his family and flattered by how much more open and vulnerable she was around him. It was moments like that – when he could clearly see how relaxed and easy-going she was with him compared to other people – that made him realise that what he thought was nothing more than a crush, might actually be something entirely more serious.

Finally, after a long moment of silence, Bellamy cleared his throat and put his hand on the small of Clarke’s back.

“Auntie, this is Clarke, my roommate—friend. She didn’t have anywhere else to go for Christmas,” he explained hastily and winced when he heard how it sounded—not only did it seem like he was trying to find an excuse for her, but it also didn’t put Clarke in the best of lights.

Luckily, Clarke herself was more awake now and his apparent inability to play it cool triggered her favourite mode (and his too, frankly) of making fun of him.

She snorted. “Thank you, Bellamy, for making me sound like a lost puppy,” she said with a slight sneer but she was smiling lightly, too. “My family’s just not one for celebrating together.”

Bellamy’s hands twitched when he heard the words, wishing he could just wrap Clarke in a hug and tell her that she didn’t need to be so damn diplomatic about the problems she had with her mother but he knew she wouldn’t have appreciated such a move, not wanting to show weakness in front of strangers.

Aunt Jasmine grinned at the two of them, measuring them head to toe and Bellamy swallowed thickly when he saw the calculating look in her eyes. She saw how close they were standing, figured out they were staying together in his bedroom and she had made her own mind about their relationship, he was sure. No matter what he or Clarke had said.

Well, that could be problematic.

Bellamy didn’t have much more time to ponder this particular development because soon enough, his uncle joined them with all the cousins and all the bags, and it was time to get a move on—help the family settle and start preparing for Christmas.

One of the fairly newer traditions in the Blake household was decorating the tree on the night before Christmas. It started once both Octavia and Bellamy left home and Aurora didn’t feel like doing it by herself earlier. Instead, she chose to wait for her kids to come home, so they could do it together like they used to when they were kids.

Later, when Aurora started inviting her sister’s family as well, it became a whole event. And ever since all the kids have grown up, it was also heavily doused with spiked eggnog—which frankly meant that it all took three times longer than necessary but also put everyone in a proper mood for the holidays.

This year, with two new people around, everyone tried to behave more or less civil but that only lasted until the fairy lights were wrapped around the tree and by the time they were hanging the baubles, they were all back to their usual shouting and breaking things.

Bellamy checked in with Clarke every now and then, initially worried about how she might react to his family shenanigans, but when he saw the gentle, happy smile on her lips, he relaxed.

Seeing how she and Levitt were the two least familiar with the long-standing traditions and arguments around the actual decorating, Clarke had quickly been delegated to the role of an artistic director and arbiter elegantiarum. She took her position with her usual seriousness but there was a playfulness dancing across her face that warmed Bellamy’s heart every time he looked at her.

It also helped Clarke win over all of Bellamy’s cousins, when she ruled a particularly vocal argument in their favour.

It was, however, becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore his mother and aunt Jasmine’s knowing looks that they were sending him throughout the night. Every time he so much as glanced in Clarke’s direction, he would catch the two of them watching, assessing. Even in his highly inebriated state, he recognised that they were questioning his oh-so-adamant assurances that there was nothing going on between him and Clarke. Though, truth be told, when they were all finished with the tree and settled down for the evening, and Clarke ended up dozing off with her feet in his lap, he couldn’t care any less about what anyone was thinking.

Later, when they all went to bed and Clarke laid down by his side, Bellamy couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if he could have that every day—falling asleep and waking up with her in his arms. It was a beautiful dream but seeing the distance that Clarke was putting between them in that moment, he didn’t dare believe it could be real.

Only then, Clarke shifted and pressed herself just a little bit closer into his space. Bellamy stopped breathing for a long moment, waiting.

“I’m sorry, Bell, that I didn’t tell you,” Clarke finally whispered into his shoulder. It took his tired, drunken brain a moment to sort through everything and figure out what she was talking about but when he did, he just hummed and rolled onto his side to see her better.

“It’s okay,” he assured her but Clarke just grimaced, not having it.

“It wasn’t. You’re my best friend,” she insisted, one hand on his elbow. “I didn’t mean to make it look like I was hiding it from you, I just—“

She inhaled and in the silence surrounding them, Bellamy could’ve sworn he heard his own heartbeat.

“Clarke,” he pressed until she looked at him. “It really is fine. We’re fine, I promise.”

She smiled at him sleepily. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For being here.”

“Always.”

***

Despite the house being already packed, they were joined next day for the Christmas dinner by Bellamy’s high school friends – Monty and Harper, and their two-year-old son Jordan.

At the beginning, Bellamy could tell that Clarke was a little overwhelmed—by all the people around, the noise and the rituals his family had developed over the years. He knew that she had never been one for large crowds, so he stuck to her side for a while, which didn’t really help with his family’s conviction about the nature of their relationship.

As the night went on, Clarke seemed to relax, especially once she and Monty discovered that thanks to their jobs, they had quite a lot to talk about. Most of what they were saying went over Bellamy’s head, though, so took the opportunity to excuse himself and go play with Jordan.

Later, after the dinner was finished, Bellamy and Octavia went on to clean up and the rest settled down in the living room. Somehow, Clarke ended up with Jordan, sleeping in her lap, his tiny fists clutching at her long neckless. She sat side by side with Harper, the two of them immersed in a quiet conversation and honestly, seeing her in his family home, with a child in her arms, on Christmas of all things, it did something to Bellamy.

“Looks Clarke had found a place for herself here,” he heard his mother say. Aurora stood closely behind him in the kitchen doorway and when Bellamy turned to look at her, she was smiling fondly. “You two seem very close.”

“We are,” Bellamy confirmed with a nod. His mother cocked an eyebrow and it brought a grimace to his face. “It’s not like that, mum. We’re just friends.”

Aurora chuckled quietly and patted his elbow.

“So was I with your father,” she reminded him. “Until we weren’t.”

Bellamy swallowed at the mention of his dad and the implication of his mother’s words.

“It’s not like that,” he tried to explain, shaking his head but Aurora was having none of that.

She took Bellamy’s hand in hers and squeezed.

“Hun, she’s the first girl you brought home since your prom date,” she said with an expression that brought a blush to his cheeks. He’d rather not even think what his mother might know about his dating life after high school.

Seeing his obvious discomfort about where the conversation was going, Aurora smirked indulgently. She looked beyond him, towards the living room and Bellamy’s eyes followed to where Clarke was still sitting on the couch, Jordan now more awake and clutching to her like a koala bear. Bellamy could feel his insides melting at the sight and he smiled involuntarily.

Aurora noticed it and sent him a triumphant look.

“Mum,” he started but her smile just widened.

“Bellamy, I have never seen you look like you do when you talk about her—or to her.”

He sighed, defeated. What was the point of hiding it from his own mother, anyway?

“She doesn’t feel the same,” he said quietly, looking at his feet. Admitting, even to himself, that he’d fallen for Clarke was one thing but he didn’t dare assume she might reciprocate.

His mother, though, she seemed more optimistic.

She nudged him to look at Clarke again and smiled.

“Have you ever asked?”

***

As the evening was winding down, Bellamy found Clarke sitting on the padded bench by the front door, holding her phone tightly.

When he came closer, he noticed her wiping under her eyes and alarmed, he rushed to her. Clarke looked up when she heard him and scooted to the side, making room for him. Bellamy sat down without a thought and immediately, Clarke cuddled into his side with a quiet sniffle.

“Are you okay?” he asked and noticed that her eyes were a little unfocused, meaning that she was both tipsy and sad, and one seemed to fuel the other.

Clarke nodded but didn’t say anything and though he recognised that she was just trying not to worry him, he stayed quiet as well, not wanting to push her.

“I talked to Marcus,” she finally said, taking a deep breath. “My mother’s not doing well.”

Bellamy looked down at her, at how tightly she was holding on to him. He moved, bringing his arms around her. After a few heartbeats, he felt Clarke’s hands grabbing at his waist, fingers clutching at his jumper. She took a ragged breath and started speaking into his chest.

“He doesn’t know what’s going on, she’s been really cagey about it, pretending that nothing’s wrong—but he suspects it might be her liver.”

Clarke pulled away slightly and wiped at her nose. “She had a drinking problem when I was in high school, after my dad died. She’s been sober for years but maybe it’s catching up to her now.”

Bellamy rubbed slow circles over her back to soothe her.

“Do you want to see her?”

Clarke hummed. “I would. But every time Marcus tries to talk to her about getting checked out or reaching out, she just dismisses him, so.”

Her voice wavered and a tear escaped her. Bellamy wiped it away, running his thumb over her cheek bone. Clarke closed her eyes and sniffled.

“What if she—what if something happens and I’m not there? What if I never get the chance to say goodbye?” she whispered, not looking at him. Her eyes were still closed and her head had dropped to his sternum.

“What if I end up all alone?”

Bellamy froze up hearing those words. His breath hitched and he bought one of his hands to Clarke’s face, nudging her to look at him.

“You won’t ever be alone, okay?” he assured firmly. “You’ll always have me.”

***

Bellamy and Clarke stayed with Aurora until Sunday and his mother all but refused to let them go until late afternoon. Not that either one of them was particularly impatient to leave, they were stuffed with food and wrapped in warm blankets for the entire weekend after Christmas Day.

Still, life awaited and soon, they were packing up and saying their goodbyes.

Bellamy carried their bag to the car and on his way back, he saw his mother with her arms wrapped tightly around Clarke, who tucked herself into the crook of Aurora’s neck. He smiled, momentarily filled to the brim with happiness—both for Clarke, who looked like she really enjoyed spending Christmas with his family, and because he loved seeing her so close with his mother, like she already belonged with them.

He barely got back to the house to check if they’d taken everything, when he almost walked into his sister, leaning against the wall next to his bedroom with her arms crossed over her chest.

“What?” he asked, not liking the look she had on her face.

Octavia shrugged noncommittally and he just walked past her. She followed after him.

“You and Clarke look cosy,” she finally said. “I thought you two were just friends and yet, here you are, bringing her home for Christmas.”

Bellamy huffed. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” she waved her hand. “I’m just saying, she’s a stranger to the rest of us but all she needed to do was bat her eyelashes and you did whatever she wanted, inviting her into our home.”

Bellamy gaped, feeling irritation and frustration bubble up inside him. “And you’ve known Levitt for how long exactly?” he challenged. “Besides, if it wasn’t for your insisting that I turned around because you can’t be bothered to pick up your own shit, I wouldn’t even know she was home.”

Octavia raised her eyebrows, curious to hear more but Bellamy wasn’t about to tell her what was going on with Clarke and her family. Not just because he didn’t want to betray Clarke’s trust, but mostly because it wasn’t any of Octavia’s business. Truth be told, it’s been years since they were last able to have a normal conversation without it ending with some kind of a spat. He didn’t blame Octavia for it, he knew it was on both of them—but his sister’s attitude and her general dissatisfaction with him didn’t exactly help.

“That’s different,” she scoffed in reaction to his words. “I’m family.”

“So is Clarke,” he said with finality.

He walked around Octavia and out of the room, shaking his head. He couldn’t understand what her problem with Clarke was or why would she wait till the very last moment to talk about it but he chose not to care. He learnt a lost time ago that there was no use in trying to change his sister’s mind.

***

They returned to Polis later that evening and they immediately dropped down onto the couch, exhausted, jackets on and all.

It was until a long while later that Clarke finally got up with a loud grunt and Bellamy followed to unpack his bag. He was in the kitchen making tea for the both of them, when he heard Clarke groan from the corridor, long and loud.

“You okay?” he asked with a chuckle but the was an undercurrent of worry in his voice.

She marched into the kitchen with an elegant envelope in one hand and sat down on the kitchen chair, showing it to him. Bellamy took the envelope and pulled out a handwritten invitation to a New Year’s Eve party. His eyebrows shot up.

“Who even mails those things anymore?” he asked, genuinely flabbergasted. With the exception of Monty and Harper’s wedding, every single invitation he’d received in his adult life had been dealt with via text. A phone call at the most.

Clarke snorted in response. “Pretentious people that I work with.” She blew a raspberry. “One of the doctors in my lab throws those fancy dinners every year and apparently I have arrived in society,” she joked.

“So, I take it you don’t want to go?”

She shrugged.

“It’s not that I don’t want to—it’s nice of her to invite me, it’s just—“ she made a face. “All they even talk about are their marriages and mortgages, and even during coffee in the break room, I feel like third-wheeling. I can’t imagine a whole night of that, alone.”

Bellamy looked at her, her shoulders slumped, and he smiled to himself.

“I could go with you,” he offered. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Clarke’s head snapped and she looked at him. “Bellamy, that’s okay. I’m not gonna make you hang out with strangers from my work.”

“But I’ll be hanging out with you, too,” he pointed out with a grin. Clarke smiled back.

“You really don’t have to do that,” she assured him, shaking her head lightly.

But Bellamy had finally made a decision. It was as good a moment as any to be brave.

“I want to, though.” He took a deep breath. “I always want to be with you,” he said.

Clarke’s lips parted and she stared at him without blinking for long enough that he considered retreating. But then, she swallowed and finally blinked.

“What do you mean?” she asked hoarsely, brow furrowed.

Bellamy was momentarily speechless, suddenly anxious about the whole thing once again, but before he found his voice, Clarke continued.

“Is this what I think? Because if we’re not on the same page—“

She sounded so distressed that and alarm went off in Bellamy’s head. He surged forward and took her hand in his. He tugged her gently forwards and after a split second of hesitation, he brushed his lips against hers in a feather-light kiss.

“It this the page you’re on?” he asked.

Clarke huffed a chuckled and grinned at him. She squeezed his fingers and kissed him with a laughter brewing inside her.

“Yes.”