Chapter Text
By the time Clarke and Bellamy make it back to the house, Clarke is half expecting everyone else to be up, but it’s only Octavia making toast in the kitchen.
Clarke had spent the walk home desperately willing herself to say something to Bellamy, but constantly coming up short. She knows they need to talk properly. She doesn’t know if she should tell him how she feels, but she would like some closure at the very least. Does it mean something that he cheated on Echo with her? That he called her irresistible? That he still wants her even though he ended it?
“Where have you two been?” Octavia asks, suspicious, as Bellamy and Clarke walk into the kitchen from outside.
“Beach,” Bellamy says.
“You couldn’t wait for the rest of us, huh?”
Bellamy shrugs and looks to Clarke. Octavia gives a disapproving snort. Clarke rolls her eyes, not even bothering to try to appease Octavia. Octavia looks about to say something else snarky and disapproving, but she quickly shuts her mouth when Wells walks into the room.
“Morning,” he grins, giving Clarke a quick kiss before making for the coffee machine. “You guys hit the beach already?” he asks.
“Yes,” Clarke says. “All three of us.” Octavia narrows her eyes at Clarke. “I’m going to go shower.”
“Me too,” Bellamy agrees. Octavia glares at them both as they head upstairs together, quickly separating when they reach their own rooms.
Clarke spends way too long in the shower, overthinking and trying to get the feel of Bellamy out of her skin. Fucking him today had probably been a bad decision. How is she supposed to get over him if she keeps having sex with him? Does she even really want to get over him?
When she appears downstairs again, dressed but not necessarily feeling all that clean, everyone else is up, and Wells has planned the entire day for them. There’s a market in town that Niylah wants to check out, so they all tag along. Clarke buys a couple of second-hand books, and Wells buys her an ugly shell necklace that she pretends to adore. Lunch is spent at a café that’s trying way too hard to be hipster, and then they all head back down to the beach for a couple of hours.
Clarke doesn’t get in the water this time, mostly because Bellamy and Echo do, and she’s watching them splash around the way she and Bellamy had done this morning and she can’t help but seethe with jealousy.
Raven has a beach ball and a volleyball and tries to organise some kind of game, but Clarke doesn’t feel like playing. She tunes out the joyful laughter of her friends playing whatever dumb game they’ve made up that involves both the beach ball and the volleyball, and tries to read instead. The others eventually tire themselves out and they all head back to the house.
Octavia puts a movie on, and while everyone else finds a spot to sit and watch, Clarke takes the opportunity to retreat to her room, claiming she’s going to take a nap.
Alone in her room, Clarke pulls off her dress and bikini, exchanging the uncomfortable clothes for her oversized Lana Del Rey t-shirt and a pair of floral panties. Then she curls up on the bed with one of the books she’d bought at the market. Half an hour later there’s a knock at the door. Clarke pauses, looking up at the door. Wells wouldn’t knock, and she doubts Octavia or Raven would either. She doesn’t know Niylah or Shaw or Echo well enough for them to come knocking on her door. Which leaves…
“Come in,” Clarke calls, her heart hammering against her ribcage. The door opens, and sure enough, Bellamy steps inside. He shuts the door behind him and Clarke sits up, closing her book and setting it aside.
“Hey,” he says, softly. “I thought we should probably… talk.”
Clarke swallows, nodding. She pats the bed beside her, and Bellamy walks over, falling onto the bed beside her. His eyes land on her chest, and for a moment Clarke thinks he’s checking out her tits, until he smirks and says, “Nice shirt.”
She looks down. Right, her Lana Del Rey shirt. She’s suddenly wrenched back to the night of the concert, the night he fingered her in public, the first night he fucked her. It fills her body with want just thinking about it. He can’t be allowed to do this to her. Not if he’s not here to fuck her senseless.
“Won’t Echo miss you?” Clarke asks. Bellamy looks at her guiltily, and she knows he was thinking about that night too. Good.
He shakes his head. “She decided she wanted to nap too.”
“Right.” Clarke clenches her jaw. “What did you want to talk about?”
“First, I wanted to say… I’m sorry.”
Clarke glances at him, surprised. “What for?”
“I said we were friends, and then as soon as we weren’t sleeping together, I completely ignored you,” Bellamy sighs. “That was shitty.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly try to stay in touch either.”
“Still,” Bellamy says, his eyes on her, fierce and genuine. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“And… about this morning—” He pauses, reaching a hand towards her thigh, but then thinking better of it and letting his hand fall to the bed between them. “I—I’m not saying it was bad. But it shouldn’t have happened. I don’t want to be that person.”
Clarke swallows, and gives a sharp nod. “Not like me, you mean.”
“Clarke—”
“No, it’s fine. You’re right. I’m a terrible person.”
Bellamy looks pained. “I don’t think you’re a terrible person. And I’m no saint. But what we did was wrong. It can’t happen again.”
Clarke nods. “I just want you to be happy,” she tells him, putting her hand over his. Her voice wobbles slightly. But she’s not going to cry again. Not in front of him.
“And I want the same for you.”
Clarke opens her mouth, almost tells him that she can’t possibly be happy without him. Instead she says, “I guess this is it then.”
Bellamy nods. “I guess so.”
“Bell?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you kiss me one last time?”
He reaches for her and the same time she reaches for him, and they meet in the middle, gripping at each other like they can’t bear to be separated from one another. As Bellamy’s lips meet hers, Clarke feels the tears spill from her eyes silently. She kisses him back, unable to stop the tears, but unwilling to tear her mouth from his for the last time. But then she can taste the salt from her own tears, and he’s pulling away, searching her eyes, worried.
“Clarke?” he says softly, and it feels like he’s tugging on her heart. He brushes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “What’s wrong?”
Clarke pulls away from him, sitting up, turning her head so he can’t see her cry. Bellamy sits up too, and she can feel him watching her. He rests his hand on her shoulder.
“Clarke, baby, what is it?”
“Don’t call me that,” Clarke says, her voice surprisingly even. She takes a deep breath. “I’m okay,” she whispers. She wipes her eyes, manages to stop herself from crying. She turns back to him. His concern is etched on his face. “Pass me a tissue, will you?”
“Where?”
“Wells probably has some in one of those drawers.”
Bellamy turns towards the small chest of drawers beside the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed as he opens the top one. Clarke knows he isn’t going to be satisfied until she tells him why she’s crying, but at least she can buy herself some time.
Bellamy rifles through the top drawer, and upon not finding any tissues, he closes it and opens to the next one. He stops suddenly, staring into the drawer, shell-shocked. He swallows.
“What is it?” Clarke asks.
“Nothing,” Bellamy says quickly, slamming the drawer closed. Clarke frowns. For a moment she forgets why she’s upset, more focused on what Bellamy just found in Wells’ drawer and why he’s acting so weird about it.
“Seriously, Bellamy, what did you find in there? If it’s something sinister I should probably know about it,” Clarke huffs. She secretly hopes maybe it’s some proof that Wells has been cheating on her too. She hopes it’s not some sign that he’s a serial killer.
“It’s not sinister.”
“Then why are you acting so weird? And why won’t you look at me?”
“It’s nothing, Clarke.”
But it’s obviously something, so Clarke rolls off the bed and marches around to the chest of drawers.
“Clarke, don’t,” Bellamy pleads. Clarke ignores him, wrenching open the second drawer. She freezes, her mouth dropping open. It can’t be— “I told you not to look,” Bellamy mutters.
“Maybe it’s not…” Clarke murmurs, reaching for the little velvet box. Maybe it’s not a ring. Maybe it’s earrings or something. She opens the box, holding her breath. It’s a ring alright. A huge ugly diamond on a platinum band. Clarke stares at it, paralysed, her chest tight. Harper was fucking right for once.
Clarke glances at Bellamy. He’s watching her cautiously, gauging her reaction.
“Congratulations?” he says. Clarke shakes her head. This is so far from what she wants.
“Bellamy, I don’t—” she chokes out. But before she can even decide where the rest of that sentence is headed, the sound of the door handle turning interrupts her. Panicking, she quickly slams the box closed and throws it back into the drawer. Bellamy gets the drawer shut just as the door swings open.
It isn’t Wells though. It’s Octavia. Bellamy and Clarke turn to look at her, and Clarke is sure they both look guilty as hell.
“I fucking knew it,” Octavia snorts. “I thought you said this was over.”
“We’re just talking, O,” Bellamy assures her.
“Is that right? Is that why Clarke isn’t wearing pants? We’re you just talking this morning when you found yourselves alone at the beach together?”
“Octavia—” Clarke starts.
“Don’t lie to me, Clarke.”
“It’s really over this time,” Clarke says, though it breaks her heart to say it. Octavia purses her lips. She turns her attention to Bellamy.
“Your girlfriend is looking for you. You’re lucky I volunteered to find you.”
Bellamy nods sheepishly, standing up and heading for the door. He glances back at Clarke as he passes Octavia, a long look that Clarke can’t work out the meaning of. Then he’s gone, and Clarke is left with Octavia. Octavia slams the door shut, turning on Clarke angrily.
“He has a girlfriend, Clarke!” Octavia snaps. “Why can’t you just let him be happy?”
Clarke shakes her head, at a loss for words.
“Octavia—” she whispers, her voice cracking. She sinks to the bed, and she hates herself because she’s crying again.
“Clarke?” Octavia says, confused. “Are you crying because I yelled at you?”
Clarke shakes her head. Octavia hesitates a moment. She’s never been great with displays of emotion. But then she sighs and makes her way over, sitting on the bed next to Clarke.
“I refuse to feel sorry for you,” Octavia says. “Unless you’re crying about something other than your affair with Bellamy. Are you?” Clarke shakes her head again. “Then you brought it on yourself.”
“I know,” Clarke says, swallowing her tears. She wipes her eyes again. “God, I’m so pathetic.”
“No argument from me.” Octavia pauses. “Why exactly are you crying?”
“Promise you won’t tell him?”
“I think I’ve proven that I can keep a secret. So come on, fess up. Why are you crying?”
Clarke blows out a shaky breath. “Because you’re right,” she sighs. “Because he has a girlfriend and it’s not me. Because I know I should let him be happy, but I don’t want him to be happy without me. Because I love him.”
“You love him?”
Clarke groans, nodding. She falls back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. “I’m such an idiot.” She feels Octavia lie down beside her.
“You really love him?”
Clarke removes her hands from her face. “Don’t make me say it again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know until he broke up with me and I was miserable without him. To be honest I don’t think I really understood what love felt like and that’s why it took me so long to figure it out.”
“So… you don’t love Wells? You never loved him?” Octavia asks.
Clarke shrugs. “Not like this.”
Octavia turns on her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “Clarke, you know I don’t approve of you cheating on Wells with Bellamy. But if you and Bellamy broke up with your… significant others, and wanted to be together… that, I would be okay with. I hate Echo anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Bellamy. As a couple.”
“He doesn’t want to be with me.”
Octavia groans. “Clarke, you really are the dumbest bitch on the planet. Other than maybe my brother.”
“Thanks.”
“Look, I’m not supposed to say anything. I promised I wouldn’t. But you should tell him how you feel.”
“What do you mean you’re not supposed to say anything?”
“Don’t question me, Clarke.”
Clarke absolutely wants to question her, because who says something like that and offers no explanation? But before she can press Octavia further, they’re interrupted again, this time by Raven.
“Wells is making dinner. He says we all have to help.”
Clarke gives Octavia a meaningful look, letting her know this conversation isn’t over, before pulling on a pair of shorts and following Raven downstairs.
Wells gives Clarke a smile as she enters the kitchen, and her stomach plummets, suddenly remembering the engagement ring hidden upstairs. When is he planning on doing it? How long has he had the ring? Does he really think they’re at a place in their relationship where it’s a good idea to get married? Or is he just so scared of losing her that he’ll do anything, even something as reckless as proposing?
As she helps Wells prepare dinner, she comes to the conclusion that she has to tell him that she knows about the ring. But it can wait until after dinner. No need to spoil the whole evening.
Clarke’s stomach is in turmoil all throughout dinner. She can barely eat. She refuses to make eye contact with either Bellamy or Wells. Wells is sitting next to her, so that’s easy enough. But Bellamy is right across the table from her, and she swears he keeps trying to catch her eye. She wonders if she can manage to avoid being alone with either of them for the rest of the night. She doesn’t want to explain her tears to Bellamy, and she definitely doesn’t want to be proposed to. The knots in her stomach are so tight she thinks she might vomit.
Finally, dinner is over, and Clarke starts collecting empty dishes.
“Octavia and I will clean up,” she offers. “The rest of you can relax.”
“We will?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks, babe,” Wells says, squeezing her hand. From what she can tell, he doesn’t seem nervous or anxious at all, so perhaps he’s not planning on proposing after all.
Octavia sighs and helps Clarke take the dishes and leftover food to the kitchen, and begins stacking the dishwasher, while the others retire to the lounge room. Clarke waits until she’s sure they’re out of earshot before she starts questioning Octavia.
“What did you mean earlier? What aren’t you allowed to say?”
Octavia huffs. “I’m not going to tell you. I shouldn’t have even said what I said.”
“But you did. So now you have to elaborate.”
“Can’t you figure it out?”
“Figure what out?”
“Think about it, Clarke,” Octavia snaps. “You know Bellamy hasn’t had a serious girlfriend in the entire time he’s known you?”
“So? Has he ever had a serious girlfriend?”
“He had two before he met you.”
“Oh. But what’s that got to do with me?”
Octavia gives Clarke a pointed look. “It has everything to do with you.”
Clarke gapes at her. “You think he’s in love with me.”
Octavia shrugs. “I didn’t say that. But if that’s the conclusion you draw…”
“He’s not though,” Clarke swallows. “Why wouldn’t he say something? And besides, he’s known me seven years,” Clarke snorts. “You think he’s been in love with me for seven years? That’s a long time to be in love with someone you can’t have.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Clarke stares at her. “He’s not in love with me. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Octavia huffs. “Fine, Clarke, think what you want. But I don’t want to ever hear you pine over him, and I sure as hell don’t want you to try and mess up his other relationships if you’re not willing to actually be with him.”
Clarke swallows. She’s got nothing else to say to refute Octavia’s claim, but at the same time she can’t seem to wrap her head around the possibility that Bellamy might actually love her back. She thinks the only way she could really believe it is if she heard it from Bellamy himself. And she doesn’t know if she has it in her to actually ask him. She doesn’t think she could bear it if the answer was no.
Octavia shakes her head and walks out of the kitchen, leaving Clarke to finish cleaning up alone. She finishes loading the dishwasher and starts it. She has the sink filled and is about to get started on the rest of the dishes when Wells walks into the kitchen.
It’s fine, she tells herself. He wouldn’t propose to you in a kitchen.
“You should leave those for later,” he says.
“I’d rather just get them done now.”
“I’ll do them later. We should go for a walk along the beach. Just the two of us.”
Clarke stops what she’s doing. “Why?” she asks, though she knows perfectly well why.
“We’ve barely had any time alone.”
Clarke sighs, and gives a nod. Now is probably as good a time as any to tell him she doesn’t want to marry him. He’ll probably understand, if she can just phrase it in the right way. He has to know they aren’t there yet.
He takes her hand and they head outside into the warm summer air. The sun hasn’t quite set yet, and the sky is awash with soft yellow and purple colours. It would probably be really romantic if she were with the right person.
Clarke lets Wells lead her to the beach, and he’s not saying anything, and she realises that now he’s nervous. She feels pretty anxious herself. They reach the beach, and Wells finally starts talking.
“Clarke, I know a few weeks ago you weren’t sure about this relationship anymore,” he says. He stops walking. Keeping her hand in his he turns to face her. “But I think that in the past couple of weeks we’ve really come back stronger than ever. And I hope I’m right in saying that you don’t feel unsure anymore?”
“Wells—” Clarke says. She shakes her head. “Don’t. Please don’t.”
Hurt crosses his face, and Clarke is filled with guilt. “Don’t what?” Wells asks.
“Don’t propose.”
“How did you—”
“I found the ring earlier.”
Wells swallows and his shoulders stiffen. “I thought we were doing better. I thought we were back on track.”
“You were wrong.”
Wells nods, but Clarke can tell he’s upset. “Okay. You don’t want to get married yet. You need more time, that’s okay,” he says, as if he’s trying to convince himself.
Clarke shakes her head again. “I don’t need more time,” she says. “I don’t want to marry you. Ever.”
Wells flinches. Maybe it’s harsh. Maybe she’d come out here with the intention of softening the blow, of letting him believe one day she’d be ready to marry him. Maybe she thought she could convince herself that’s what she wanted too. But standing here, with him about to propose, she realises she’ll never want that. And it doesn’t matter whether or not Bellamy loves her back, or whether she ever finds that out. There’s a possibility that Octavia’s right, that he really does love her. But Clarke holds little hope that there’s any truth to it. She’d thought being with Wells would be better than being alone, but she realises now there is no point trying to force something that isn’t working. Something that she doesn’t want. Maybe being alone is exactly what she needs anyway. Maybe it’s exactly what she deserves.
“You don’t mean that,” Wells says.
“I’m so sorry,” Clarke whispers. “I tried, I promise I tried. But I can’t do this anymore.”
Wells looks heartbroken. “Why?” he asks.
“Whatever we had before, I just don’t feel it anymore!” Clarke says. “I’m tired of trying make it work, when the truth is, I don’t think I even want it to work.”
“I don’t understand,” Wells says. “I love you. You love me.”
“I don’t.”
“Clarke,” Wells pleads. “Don’t do this. You can have as much time as you need. I’ll wait. I swear I’ll wait.”
“I don’t want you to wait!”
“But one day you’ll realise—”
“Wells!” Clarke cries. “I cheated on you.”
Wells finally goes silent. Clarke can hardly bear to look at him.
“You cheated on me?” he finally repeats, like he’s still trying to process.
“Yes.”
Wells shakes his head, tears forming in his eyes. Like it wasn’t really over for him until she said those words. “When? Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. It matters. It fucking matters. How could you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? For fuck’s sake, Clarke. I loved you and I trusted you, and you did this? Do you think I could ever forgive you for this?”
“No. No, of course not.”
“How long ago?”
Clarke swallows. “The first time was—”
“The first time? You cheated on me more than once?” Wells rubs his face. “God. I feel like such an idiot. I really thought you loved me.”
“I did!”
“You don’t do that to people you love, Clarke.” He’s right.
A tear escapes down Wells’ cheek, and Clarke feels like she should be crying as well. But maybe she’s all cried out. Wells shakes his head again, and then he’s storming past her, back towards the house. Clarke lets him go, not even bothering to watch him leave. She hates that she hurt him. She feels awful about it. But some other part of her is just relieved it’s over. That he knows. That she’s free to feel however she feels without having to worry about how it affects him.
She waits a few minutes, letting the sun set completely before she makes her way back to the house. She knows she can’t stay out here forever. She has to face Wells and the others eventually. She wonders if he’s told them what happened already. Whether they’re all planning ways to torture her for breaking Wells’ heart. She wouldn’t blame them.
When she gets back, Octavia, Raven, Niylah and Shaw are sitting at the table playing a board game.
“Where’s Wells?” Clarke asks.
“He left,” Raven says. “What did you do to him? He seemed upset.”
“We broke up,” Clarke says. Raven looks shocked. Octavia doesn’t. “Do you know where he went? I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
“He grabbed his keys and said he needed a drink. So he probably went to a bar,” Raven deduces.
“Do you think you could check on him for me? I doubt he’ll want to see me.”
Raven nods, standing up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Clarke says. “I’m fine.” It’s the truth.
Raven gets her keys and takes Shaw with her to search for Wells.
“What happened?” Octavia asks as Clarke sinks onto a chair. Clarke glances at Niylah.
Niylah raises an eyebrow. “Octavia already told me all your secrets,” she shrugs. Clarke rolls her eyes.
“He was about to propose,” Clarke says. “But I stopped him.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“And then I told him I didn’t want to marry him ever. But he didn’t believe me. So I told him I cheated on him. He didn’t take it well,” Clarke laughs humourlessly.
“How do you feel?”
“Is it bad that I’m just… relieved?”
“Maybe a little.”
Clarke sighs, then lifts her head, looking around for some sign of Bellamy. “Where’s Bellamy?” she asks. Octavia and Niylah glance at each other.
“He and Echo left,” Octavia says. “Right after dinner. He didn’t even say goodbye. Just chucked all their stuff in his car and took off.”
“He left?” Clarke repeats, despair welling up inside her. “But I have to tell him.”
“Tell him what?” Octavia asks. Clarke is already standing up.
“That I love him. Obviously. Where are my keys? Maybe I can still catch him.”
“Wells took your car, remember?”
“Damn it!” Clarke groans. “Can I take yours?”
“We came with Raven. Look, Clarke, you can just tell him when you get home. Nothing will have changed.”
Clarke nods, knowing Octavia is right, but at the same time desperate to go after him, to tell him everything. That it’s over with Wells. That she loves him and she wants to be with him. She presses her fingers to her eyes, and they come away wet. Now she’s crying.
She hears the sound of a car pulling up the driveway, and the three girls stop to listen, trying to work out who it is. Wells, back from the bar? Raven, having given up trying to find him? Or, Clarke barely dares to hope, Bellamy, with a change of heart?
Clarke races to the window, Octavia and Niylah just behind her. The headlights of the car shut off. Bellamy’s car. Clarke’s heart skitters.
“Bellamy,” she breathes, and then she’s racing to the front door, stepping outside onto the front porch just as Bellamy slams his car door closed. He looks up at her standing in the porchlight and their eyes meet. Clarke glances at the passenger side. No Echo.
Clarke’s heart pounds as she continues towards him, willing herself not to chicken out. He walks towards her too, five metres away, four, three, two, one. And then they’re only an inch apart and he’s reaching for her face, kissing her so good she forgets where she is and why she’s there. She lets out a whimper as he breaks the kiss, but he remains close enough for her to feel him breathing.
“Don’t marry him,” he whispers. “Please don’t marry him. I don’t think I could bear it.”
Clarke shakes her head. “I’m not. We broke up.”
Bellamy smiles, relieved, joyous, and Clarke finally realises what she probably should have known all along. He loves her.
“Clarke, I—”
“Me first,” she interrupts. Bellamy raises an eyebrow, but he lets her continue. “I love you,” she says. “I wish I’d said it sooner. I love you, I love you.”
Bellamy can’t keep the smile from his face. “And I love you,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Clarke registers than Octavia and Niylah have probably been spying on this whole exchange, but Clarke can’t bring herself to care.
Nothing else exists except Bellamy and this moment. His soft kisses turn hungrier, more desperate, and Clarke wants nothing more than for him to strip her bare and devour her right here. They can probably make inside to a bed though. She begins to tug him towards the house, not wanting to separate from him for a moment.
The sound of another car careening up the driveway causes them to stop and break apart. Clarke’s car screeches to a halt behind Bellamy’s, and Clarke’s stomach drops. Wells leaps out of the car, slamming the door closed and marching over to them.
“Wells!” Clarke says. He has a murderous look in his eyes. He ignores her, instead turning on Bellamy. Without a word, Wells pulls his fist back, and swings at Bellamy’s face, connecting hard and sending Bellamy reeling backwards. Bellamy groans and Clarke screams.
“That’s for fucking my girlfriend!” Wells shouts. He turns to Clarke. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Clarke can’t bring herself to answer, but that’s answer enough for Wells.
“What the hell!” Octavia yells. Clarke turns to see Octavia and Niylah on the front porch. Bellamy puts his hand to his face where Wells had punched him.
“I probably deserved that,” he mutters. A third car, Raven’s, pulls up behind Wells. Raven and Shaw get out and race over.
“Did you all know?” Wells shouts. “Did you know this asshole has been fucking my girlfriend behind my back?”
“What?” Raven snaps, turning to Clarke.
“Well maybe, if you fucked her properly to begin with, she wouldn’t have needed me to fuck her,” Bellamy spits. Wells lunges for him again, but Shaw grabs him before he can get another punch in.
“What the hell, Clarke?” Raven says, her tone accusatory. “After everything I told you about Finn cheating on me?”
“I’m sorry,” Clarke says. She knows it’s not enough. The look of betrayal on Raven’s face is worse than any look Wells could give her, anything he could say to her. She can live with Wells not forgiving her. She knows she deserves that. She doesn’t know if she can live with Raven not forgiving her.
“Maybe we should all just calm down,” Niylah says.
“Who invited this chick?” Wells huffs. “My girlfriend has been cheating on me for god knows how long and you want me to calm down?”
“She’s right,” Shaw says, still holding onto Wells. “What’s the use in beating him up? It won’t make you feel better.”
“Maybe not, but it will make him feel worse.”
“Wells, please don’t hurt him,” Clarke says.
“Why should I listen to anything you say? You’re a liar and a cheater.”
“I know,” Clarke whispers. “But I promise I never meant to hurt you. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Wells looks like he might cry again. “It’s a little late for that,” he says quietly.
“I know that too.”
Wells sighs, giving Shaw a look of annoyance as he pulls away from him. “Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Maybe I should leave,” Bellamy suggests.
Wells gives Bellamy a look of contempt. “Yeah, that would probably be best. I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself from punching you again.”
Everyone else stays silent as Bellamy heads towards his car. He gives Clarke a longing look, like he’d like to kiss her goodbye, but he knows that isn’t a good idea. He opens the car door.
“Wait!” Clarke calls after him. He stops, tilting his head. “I’m coming with you.”
Wells snorts. “Of course you are.”
Clarke glares at him. “Why would I stay here with a house full of people who hate me?” Wells shrugs. “You can drive my car home. I’ll pick it up when you get back.” She turns to Bellamy again. “Just wait a minute?” He nods.
Clarke hurries inside and gathers her things, throwing everything she can find haphazardly into her suitcase. Octavia can bring her anything she might have forgotten. She drags her suitcase downstairs and outside, where everyone is still standing around, not knowing what to do with themselves.
Clarke gives Octavia a quick hug. “Thank you,” she whispers. Bellamy helps her put her suitcase in the trunk of his car, and then she’s sliding into the passenger seat, her heart pounding. She wonders if maybe she’s being crazy. But then she looks over at Bellamy, and her heart swells, and he looks so fucking happy, that even if she is being crazy, she knows she’s still doing the right thing.
Bellamy starts the car and manages to manoeuvre it around the two other cars parked behind him, and then they’re on their way. Bellamy slides his hand into Clarke’s and squeezes, reminding her that her happiness is real.
“What happened to Echo?” Clarke asks. She doesn’t really want to think about Echo, but it is one mystery she needs solved.
“I dropped her off at the train station,” Bellamy says. “She was taking the break up quite well until I told her I cheated on her. With you.”
“Sorry.”
Bellamy gives her a funny look. “Don’t be sorry. I wanted to be with you, not her.”
“Did you know?”
“Did I know what?”
“Did you know I was in love with you? Is that why you came back?”
A grin spreads across Bellamy’s face at the words I was in love with you. “I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of hearing you say that,” he says. He glances at her. “And no. I didn’t know. But I hoped. And when I saw that ring and I knew he was going to propose to you… I felt sick. I knew I had to try to stop you. But I couldn’t do it while I was still with Echo.”
“I understand.”
“That’s why I packed all my things too. I was pretty sure that either way, I wasn’t going to be welcome back at the house after I told you I loved you,” Bellamy says. Clarke’s own face breaks into a smile at those words. Yeah, she’s pretty sure she could get used to a lifetime of Bellamy telling her he loves her. He squeezes her hand again. “I also, uh… checked into a hotel.”
“Is that where we’re going?”
“Do you want to?”
“Either that or you’re going to have to pull over and fuck me, because I can’t wait until we get all the way home.”
“Jesus, Clarke.”
He takes her to the hotel. They leave their suitcases in the car and head straight up to the room, hanging off each other, somehow managing to restrain themselves from doing anything but kiss until the door is closed behind them. Except as soon as the door is closed, Bellamy pulls away from her, leaving her breathless and wanting.
“Bell—” she whines.
“Clarke,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice thrilling her. He brushes her hair from her face. Clarke shivers. “I love you,” he tells her. “I’ve loved you for so long.”
“I know.”
He kisses her forehead, and then each of her eyelids, and her cheeks, and then her lips again.
“Fuck me,” Clarke tells him. “Make me scream so loud we make everyone else in this hotel jealous.”
He kisses her hard, and she moans into his mouth. Then he picks her up and throws her over his shoulder, and she squeals in delight as he carries her to the bed, one arm around her waist and one resting on her ass. He drops her onto the bed, and Clarke wriggles out of her t-shirt. Bellamy sheds his own shirt, and then he crawls on top of her, maintaining eye contact until he kisses her. He pulls away, looking unsure all of a sudden.
“What is it?” Clarke asks.
“I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“When have you ever disappointed me?” Clarke laughs. Bellamy remains serious.
“It might not be as good. As exciting. Without the… illicit factor.”
“Bellamy,” Clarke says. “Maybe at the start, that was part of the reason it was so good. But now it’s good because you know me so well. Because you know exactly what I like. Because I love you.” Bellamy smiles, and Clarke thinks he might even be blushing. “You’re fucking adorable,” she says, kissing him.
“Is that right?” Bellamy asks, challenging. “Let’s see how adorable I am with my head between your legs.”
He slides down between her thighs, tugging her shorts and panties down with him, until she’s left wearing only her bra. He runs his tongue along her slit, teasing her, circling her clit but never actually touching it. He winds her up, gets her breathing heavy. She curls her fingers into his hair, trying to get him where she wants him. He flicks her clit with his tongue, once, then twice, and she moans. He pulls away.
“Still adorable?” he asks.
“Evil, but still cute.”
Bellamy pushes a finger into her, and then another. She lets out a very unladylike sound. He keeps his fingers inside her and presses his lips to her slit, using his tongue to tease her clit. He starts moving his fingers and Clarke whines.
“Yes,” she moans. “Keep doing that. Oh my god.” She cries out as he brings her over the edge, though it’s probably not loud enough for anyone else in the hotel to hear. Then he’s lifting his head, pulling his fingers from her pussy and trailing his hands up her sides to her breasts.
“Time to take this off,” he says, slipping a finger under the strap of her bra. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen your pretty tits.”
“You saw them this morning,” Clarke reminds him, even as she sits up to undo the clasp.
“Still too long,” Bellamy smirks. Clarke pulls off her bra and tosses it aside. She loves the way Bellamy gazes at her tits in awe. He rubs his thumbs over her pointed nipples.
“Bell, not to rush you, but you can play with my tits any time you want. Right now, I need you to fuck me.”
“So impatient.”
“Please, it’s been too long since I had your cock in me.”
“I fucked you this morning.”
“Still too long.”
Bellamy smirks. “Okay,” he says. He pushes her back down on the bed. He gets up to remove his own shorts and underwear. Clarke spreads her legs for him and then he presses his cock against her entrance. He pauses for a moment and then he pushes into her, and she groans, throwing her head back as his cock fills her completely. She fingers her nipples, more for his benefit than her own, twisting them between her fingertips.
“You look so sexy like this,” Bellamy tells her. “With my cock inside you, while you play with your nipples.”
“Your cock feels so good,” Clarke moans.
“I know, baby. I know how much you love having my cock in you. You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes! Fuck me, please.”
Bellamy obliges, gripping her thighs tightly as he thrusts against her, not bothering to take it slow. Clarke can feel his cock hitting her g-spot over and over. He fucks her hard, and her tits bounce obscenely with every thrust. She fists her hands into the sheets beneath her, her eyes rolling back into her head as she whimpers and moans.
“Bell,” she whines. Her moans turn to silent gasps as she reaches her peak.
“Come on, baby,” Bellamy urges her. “Come for me. Come on my cock. I love you so much.”
Clarke comes, shuddering as she cries out his name, her walls clenching around his cock, dragging him over the edge with her. His come fills her, and then she’s coming again, silently this time.
Bellamy pulls out of her, covering the sheets with their combined come as he does so. He drops to the bed beside her, panting. “I don’t think you were loud enough for the rest of the hotel to be jealous,” he muses.
“We’ll have to try again,” Clarke says, rolling onto her stomach, pressing her palm against his hard chest.
“In a minute,” Bellamy chuckles. Clarke traces circles on his chest with her finger. “Clarke. I forgot to ask. Am I allowed to call you baby again?”
“Yes,” Clarke says. “I just couldn’t bear to hear it when I thought you’d probably be saying it to Echo later.”
“She wasn’t really the baby type. Not that I tried. I was only with her to try and forget about you.”
“I’m glad it didn’t work.”
“Me too,” Bellamy agrees, wrapping an arm around her. Content as she is in his arms, Clarke can’t help but think about what’s going to happen tomorrow. What’s going to happen with Wells or with Raven. She knows she still has Octavia, but she hopes Raven might come around one day.
“I just realised I have nowhere to live,” Clarke sighs. Back to a hotel for a while until she finds her own place.
“Don’t be silly,” Bellamy says. “You can stay with me until you find somewhere else. I mean… unless you don’t want to find somewhere else.”
Clarke stares at him. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
Bellamy shrugs. “Yeah. If you want to. No pressure.”
“It’s not too soon?”
“Not for me.”
Clarke beams. “Okay. Okay I’ll move in. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to fuck me at least twice a day.”
Bellamy chuckles, and Clarke feels the reverberation deep in her chest. “I think I can manage that.”