Us (Bellarke Fanfic)

[chapter twenty six - bellamy]

I don't know what I was expecting to find in Washington, but it wasn't this. 

The car is parked in front of the apartment Clarke directed me to, a generic red bricked tower. 

"This is it," Clarke says, resting her elbows on the dashboard. "Interesting."

"You've never seen it?" I ask, tilting my head to get a better look. It's not like the apartment is weird, or anything... I just expected something fancier. I mean, with Clarke going to a private school and just generally having large amounts of money. 

Not that I'm entitled to any opinion about what Clarke's mom decides to do with her life. 

"Okay," Clarke says, inhaling deeply. I glance over at her, trying to read how she's feeling. If she's nervous, her face doesn't give it away, but her hands tell another story. She has them balled into tight fists, and from the looks of it, her nails are digging into her palms. 

"You don't have to go in there," I remind her. 

"Yes, I do," Clarke replies, clenching her fists tighter. Is that seriously not hurting her? 

"You can call and see if she's home," I suggest. 

"Why are you stalling?" Clarke asks.

"Why are you?" I retort. Clarke raises an eyebrow at me, then releases a long sigh. 

"What if this was a bad idea?" she asks. "I mean, what if she's... what if she doesn't want to see me?"

I glance at her hands again - her knuckles turning white. She needs to calm down. 

"She's your mom," I say. "Of course she wants to see you."

Clarke bites her lip. "Maybe she doesn't. Maybe we should just go."

"I didn't drive you all the way to Washington so you could turn around and go home," I say firmly. Clarke meets my eyes, a determinedly upset look on her face. A strand of hair falls in front her face, but she doesn't push it away. "She's your mom," I say again. Against my better judgement, I reach out and grab her hands, slowly unfolding her fists. She inhales sharply, small red crescent moons dotting her palms. 

"Whoops," she mumbles. I run my thumb across her palms, making sure she isn't bleeding. Clarke shivers slightly, and I pull my hands away. 

"You ready yet?" I ask. Clarke glances up at the apartment uncertainly. 

"Might as well get it over with," she says, her voice wavering. 

She opens her door and slowly steps out of the car. I follow after her, adjusting my shirt. This could either go really well or really badly, and either way, I have to put up with Clarke on the way home. 

So preferably, it'll go well. 

If we ever get inside. "Clarke, you actually have to ring the bell to go inside."

"I know," Clarke mumbles. "Or we could just wait here for someone to come get us-"

I ring the buzzer before she has a chance to say another word. 

"Hello, how can I help you?" A distorted voice startles Clarke from inside the box on the wall. She jumps slightly, bumping into me. I raise my eyebrows at her, and she refuses to look at me. 

"Say something," I whisper. She shakes her head. 

"I can't."

I take a deep breath. "Um... we're looking for Ms Griffin." I forget whether she told me her mom's name. Should I know that?