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It’s a new year and there should be something akin to change in the air but there isn’t. The only thing filling the air is the sound of Jasper’s snores as he sleeps off his drinks from last night on their couch. Monty is passed out not too far away and Clarke thinks Miller fell asleep in the bathtub after looking out for Murphy while he threw up.
She steps carefully across the floorboards so she doesn’t wake her friends and goes to make coffee.
Bellamy, it seems, had the same plan. He’s leaning against the counter with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. She stills in the doorway and stares at him, unable to suppress the wave of fondness that rushes over her.
He opens his eyes and he’s looking right at her, a smile lighting him up involuntarily.
“Happy New Years,” he rumbles. She loves his morning voice.
“You too,” she returns.
It isn’t the first time they’re wished each other well today. The ball dropped and he whispered it into her hair and then kissed her forehead, half tipsy. She’d returned the sentiment with her lips brushing across his jaw. It was all too warm and the room too crowded for anything more between the two of them.
There’s an extra beat before either of them speaks again and Clarke’s pre-coffee brain is scrambling to find something to say that isn’t a confession. Bellamy beats her to the punch.
“So, any resolutions this year?” he asks. There’s an edge in his voice that sounds a little like hope.
“I don’t know,” she tries. “Anything you think I need to change in my life?” She phrases it openly. Clarke is hopeful too but not nearly naive enough to think of anything as a certainty.
She watches him for a terrible minute and he’s not giving anything away. His expression always seems so grave when he’s thinking; it’s killing her. She’s rooted to the spot, willing herself not to bolt. She’s about to give into the urge to run and then Bellamy’s stepping across the kitchen an a haste Clarke’s never seen before.
Before she can say anything his hands are on her jaw and his lips are on their way to hers. Clarke doesn’t hesitate to meet him halfway. Everything goes blank when they collide and the only thing Clarke can think is a resounding finally.
He pulls away and somehow her arms have managed to wrap themselves around him and his hands have moved to her hair. It’s a perfect fit.
“You don’t need to change a thing. Ever.”
“Well eventually I might need to change my last name, but we can worry about that later,” Clarke offers, and kisses him again before he has time to process. When it hits him, he’s smiling so wide that he can barely kiss her back, but it’s okay.
The coffee is done now and Bellamy pours it while Clarke gets out the ingredients for pancakes, and without fail they work in a rhythm. Change doesn’t feel so significant when it’s so inevitable.
Bellamy and Clarke make each other happy; they always have and they always will.
It’s going to be a good year. Clarke’s certain.