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Summary
“Clarke Griffin,” Bellamy grins, “Did you streak naked down the street once, for Truth or Dare?”
“I was thirteen, and in my underwear,” she says primly, and he laughs loud enough to shake her, where she’s pressed up against his chest. His hand is warm on the space where her hip meets her thigh, and he slides his thumb under her shirt, to stroke at the skin there.
“Alright, I’ll bite,” he decides, setting his beer down again so she’ll know he’s serious. “Truth or Dare?”
Clarke pretends to think about it for a moment, even though she always picks the same thing. “Dare.”
Bellamy grins, delighted, like that’s what he’d been planning for all along. He’ll probably just have her streak naked down the street, because once again, the dares are always expected.
But instead he says “I dare you to kiss me.”