Rescue Me || Bellarke AU

32. Moving On.

"Thank you, Clarke." Finn nodded. He hit stop on the recorder and put his pen back on the table. 

"Is that it? Am I done?" Clarke asked. She just wanted to get out of here and go home. She just wanted to curl up in Bellamy's arms and forget about everything. 

"That's it." Finn nodded. "But before you go, I just want to say what you're doing is very brave Clarke. To stand up to your abuser takes a lot of strength. Whether you realise it or not, you're strong Clarke." 

Clarke nodded her head with a small smile. "Thank you." 

Finn stood from his chair, and Clarke followed him out the room. As promised, Bellamy was sat in a chair in the hall outside the door. He looked up as soon as Clarke stepped into the hall. Bellamy didn't hesitate to rush over to her, wrapping his arms around her. 

"You okay?" Bellamy asked. 

Clarke nodded her head. "I'm okay." 

"Thank you for your statement Clarke." Finn said, shaking her hand. "Someone will be in contact as soon as Cage is sentenced." 

"Thank you." Clarke nodded. Then she turned to Bellamy. "Let's go home." 

~~~~

The next day, Bellamy sat on Clarke's bed, flicking through his phone while Clarke sat on the floor on the other side of the room. She had a blank canvas in front of her, paints scattered on the floor around her. She held a brush in her hand, staring at the white square in front of her. The room was silent, no sound apart from the occasional shuffle of movement from Clarke. 

That was until she let out a groan of frustration and threw the brush down on the floor beside her. It bounced twice before landing at the side of the bed. 

"What's wrong?" Bellamy asked, looking up from his phone. 

"I don't know what to paint." Clarke pouted. "It's like my inspiration just got up and walked away!" 

Bellamy let out a low chuckle and swung his legs off the bed. He bent down to pick up the discarded paintbrush before walking over to Clarke and dropping to a crouch in front of her. 

"Well, what inspired you before?" Bellamy asked, spinning the paintbrush between his fingers. 

"I don't know, it wasn't so much inspiration as a means to an escape. Painting helped me forget about how much of a shit show my life was." Clarke sighed. 

"Didn't you paint before you met Cage?" Bellamy asked, brow raised. 

"Well yeah, but I can't even remember what life was like before he came along." Clarke shrugged. 

"Alright, well think back to when you first realised you liked painting, what did you paint then?" Bellamy asked. 

Clarke went quiet for a moment, finally she looked up at Bellamy, hesitating. 

"You don't have to tell me, Princess, let your work do the talking." Bellamy smiled, holding out the paintbrush for her to take. 

Clarke took the brush slowly, nodding her head. And then, she opened her first tube of paint. Bellamy smiled at her before turning back to the bed, dropping down on the mattress. His legs extended in front of him, ankles crossed, while he let Clarke do her thing. 

An hour later, Bellamy decided to head downstairs to get something to eat. Before he walked out the door, he asked Clarke if she wanted anything, but Clarke simply shook her head, too engrossed in her work to even look up at him. She was currently sketching something with a charcoal pencil, her tongue poking out the corner of her lips. Bellamy watched her for a second, admiring the way her eyes flicked over the canvas, full of passion and life.