Us (Bellarke Fanfic)

[chapter forty - bellamy]

Once everyone has gone home, I'm finally able to relax. 

I didn't even realize how tense I was - but now that the house is empty of laughter and conversation, my shoulders are sore and my back is aching. 

Plus Clarke decided it would be fun to taunt me the entire time, which wasn't much fun either. Just because I gave her access to my closet doesn't mean she has the right to promenade around in my shirts every day. Not that I totally hate seeing her wearing them. She's just lucky Octavia didn't notice. 

But now that the house is practically empty, I can talk to her. Hopefully she'll have given up her little game by now. If not, I think I can handle it. 

The last time I saw her, she was disappearing into her room. I just have to get past Octavia, who's taken up residence in the kitchen. She claimed she was 'cleaning up', but the cupcakes have been mysteriously disappearing in between counter wipes. 

"Why don't you just take the cupcakes and go eat them with Lincoln or something?" I say, leaning against the door frame dividing the kitchen and the dining room. Octavia turns to me, eyes wide.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replies, trying to keep her face clean of emotion. She fails, her cheeks flushing. 

"You're gonna be sick later," I tell her. 

"I'm stressed about school," she whines. "And the cupcakes taste good."

"That's the point of cupcakes," I remind her, raising an eyebrow. "You might as well share them."

"What happened to you not liking Lincoln?" Octavia asks slyly. 

"I never said I didn't like him," I reply grudgingly. "But since you apparently intend on keeping him around for a while... I might as well get on board."

Octavia beams. 

"Now take your cupcakes and go," I say, waving her away. She scoops up one of the trays and backs toward the elevator, still smiling. 

"You're the best!" she squeals. 

"Don't you forget it," I call after her, and I watch her until the elevator doors hide her from my view. 

As soon as she's gone, I let out a sigh. Now that's taken care of. I grab two cupcakes from the remaining tray and make my way over to Clarke's room. The door is partially open, so I push it the rest of the way with my foot. 

"Cupcake delivery," I say, holding up the one in my right hand. Clarke is sitting on her bed, her drawing pad in her hands. She smiles as she sees me. 

"Come sit," she says, setting down her sketch pad and moving over on her bed. I hesitate for a moment, then join her, handing her the cupcake. She takes it, peeling off the wrapper. 

"Um," I say awkwardly. "Octavia went down to Lincoln's."

"I'm happy you're being more open to them," Clarke replies, frowning at her cupcake. "Lincoln's a great guy."

"Yeah," I say, staring at my own cupcake. I wasn't expecting this to be so... weird. 

"He offered to let me move in," Clarke says, looking over at me. I meet her eyes, my heart fluttering. "When I found out my mom was moving. He said that if you didn't want me living here, I could move in with him."

"I'm glad you didn't," I say, smiling slightly. Clarke returns the smile, taking a bite of her cupcake. I do the same, leaning my head against the wall behind her bed. She hasn't changed the room much since she moved in, but it's brighter, more homey. She's covered the wallpaper in some spots, and there are more photos hanging around the room. She has posters, too, with various art and scenery on them. 

"I wanted to show you this drawing," she says, breaking me from my thoughts. She picks up her drawing book and flips through the pages, while I watch curiously. After a moment, she offers me the book.

The sketch on the page is a replica of the photo we took with her mom and Marcus, when we went to Washington. It has an incredible amount of detail, each stroke carefully placed to make it look realistic. 

"Clarke," I whisper. "This is..."

"I'm gonna send it to my mom," Clarke says. "To show her that I don't have to be a doctor to be successful. I know I don't need her approval, but I do want it. And I don't really want to show her sketches of random people, no matter how much I might like them."

"The people or the sketches?" I tease, handing her back the sketch book. She uses it to hit me on the head, but at least she's smiling. "I think she'll love it," I say seriously. "She'd be crazy not to let you follow your dreams."

"Very inspirational, Bellamy. I might need to put that on one of my posters."

Smiling, I return to looking around Clarke's room as she flips to a new page in her sketch book. I listen to the sound of her pencil moving against the paper, which I would normally find irritating. Now it's... peaceful. 

"I'm sorry," Clarke says suddenly. I turn to look at her, frowning. She's looking at me with a serious expression on her face. "About the party, and everything. I don't know what I was thinking."

I hold back a laugh. "You don't have to apologize, Clarke."

"Yes, I do," she argues. "I've never..." She trails off, setting down her sketchbook and pulling her knees into her chest. Never what? 

"It's okay," I tell her. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I embarrassed you in front of everyone," she mumbles. 

"You didn't," I assure her. 

"I did," she says stubbornly. "I don't know what got into me."

"Stop," I say, lifting her chin slightly. 

"You were mad," she says quietly. 

"I wasn't mad," I tell her. I lean closer, lowering my voice. "I liked it."

She inhales deeply, her eyes darting around my face. 

"Oh," she says simply. My eyes fall to her lips, noticing a small streak of icing. I wipe it off with my thumb, causing Clarke to shiver slightly. 

Before I know what I'm doing, I lick the icing off my finger. Clarke's eyes widen, her lips parting slightly. Without wasting another moment, I lean forwards and kiss her. She rests her hands on my shoulders, and all I want is to be closer to her. 

"Clarke," I whisper, instantly forgetting the rest of my sentence as she slides onto my lap. 

"Bellamy," she says, imitating my tone. She pulls away for a moment, a slight frown on her face. God, she's so beautiful. She stares at me for a moment, as though debating something. I allow her the moment's pause, running a hand up and down her arm. 

Never, in a million years, did I think I'd be here. And now it's the one thought circling my mind on repeat. I want her. All of her.

"Hey, Bellamy?" Clarke asks. 

"Yeah?"

"Lock the door."

---

A/N: So that happened... hehe. Thank you so much for over 2K reads!! That's kinda insane. It's also more insane that I've already started writing the drafts for book two (yup, there's gonna be a book two!). I'm super excited about it, even if you all get bored and don't feel like reading it. But book one isn't QUITE over yet, so thank you so much for reading! <3