Bellarke One Shots

Lightning and Sparks (Part 3)

A/N: This is becoming even longer than I expected, but I think it'll just be one more part after this? Also sorry if it's got errors or isn't good, I didn't edit it much but I wanted to upload anyway. :D

            As soon as the sky went gray, Clarke was waiting at her door expectantly. She'd seen in the newscast earlier there was a high chance of rain and lightning, and according to the calendar she'd hung shamelessly on the wall in her bedroom, the chance of Bellamy Blake (aka the likelihood of Bellamy being able to hang out) was 98%. It was, really, her favorite kind of day—dull and gloomy, with a nice mix of tall, dark, and handsome thrown in.

Once she heard the telltale sound of running down the hallway, she threw open the door just in time for Bellamy to slide in front of her apartment, out of breath and grinning. "I heard there was going to be lightning storms later and I got a little prematurely nervous. Mind if I come in?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was, of course, grinning, too. "You dolt," she said, and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back for a long time, and she felt that thing inside her again, that connection drawn between them. It seemed particularly powerful today, but that was probably just from Clarke's over-abundance of excitement.

He pulled back but kept his arms on her upper arms. "Got anything interesting planned to stall my terrible fear?"

"You know, sometimes I think you just made that fear up, Bellamy Blake," she said, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "And the fear of a mouse in your apartment, and the people at a party your sister arranged, and playing one-on-one basketball against Lincoln...."

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "I guess you'll never know," he grinned, and they walked inside.

The door closed behind him, and Clarke felt awkward, but not because he was in her house – it was practically his house, too, with all the time he spent here – but because of the constant thoughts churning in the back of her head. You said today would be the day...you kept saying this would finally be the time when you packed up enough courage....come on, Clarke, get a move on, you promised yourself this months and months ago and you still haven't done it....

She tried to flush the thoughts out of her system, but they clung to her skin like tree sap. The truth was, ever since Bellamy had – rather infuriatingly – kissed her cheek and disappeared into his apartment, she'd wanted to get him back for it. And by getting him back, she meant kissing him, this time for real. Every time he showed up at her door with his crinkly smile and soft eyes and endless supply of sweetness, the need to do this became stronger and stronger, but she had yet to become brave enough to initiate anything. Yeah, they had shared a few goodbye kisses on the cheeks, and a couple comforting forehead kisses, but other than that...nothing.

"You finished your last painting a few days ago, right?" Bellamy asked. "Mind if I look at it?"

She cringed immediately. This most recent painting had been kept more of a secret from Bellamy, and though she'd occasionally mentioned how far she was into it, she hadn't let him see it for a number of reasons. "Um...I don't know, Bellamy."

"Aw, come on," he complained, nudging her shoulder with his arm and furrowing his brows in the best display of puppy eyes she had ever seen, curse his soul. "You haven't let me see it once, and I don't even know what it is, either."

"That's sort of the point of a secret painting, Bellamy," Clarke sighed. "It's secret."

"Why's this one secret, though? You've never hidden a painting from me before," he whined.