Bellarke One Shots

My Girl

Bellamy should've been paying more attention, he really should've, but it was so much harder to focus in meetings when he was sitting next to Clarke. Which was, of course, his fault (he took considerable effort to be by her side even if it wasn't a meeting that applied to him), but whatever. It certainly wasn't his fault that Clarke's voice had a hypnotic lilt to it, at least, or that there was a strand of hair loose in her face that was begging to be brushed away, or that someone had charged her hands with electricity so that he could tell there was only an inch between their fingers without even looking.

Certainly not.

He forced himself to concentrate, even when Clarke seemed to notice his discomfort and casually touched her fingers to his, and quickly found they were discussing a trip. Specifically, a conference with the grounders to work out a possible alliance and, more importantly, a plan for the upcoming months. This idea made Bellamy incessantly queasy; the grounders had never liked him, or any of his people really, and they were highly unlikely to believe them about the danger anyway, much less work with them.

"We will, of course, need a good task force to come with us, but obviously we also need the majority of our resources here, to protect Arkadia," Kane said, looking over the group. Clarke's fingers were warm against Bellamy's.

"Clarke has already volunteered to lead this, seeing as she has the most experience with grounder culture and politics," Abby added, picking up the conversation effortlessly, and Bellamy felt his heart physically drop. "Marcus will also go, since he was originally the link between us and the twelve clans." She glanced over at Kane quietly – they were so in sync lately, they were nearly one entity – and he nodded slightly. "However, that's obviously not enough people, so we need volunt—"

"I'll go," Bellamy interrupted, his voice low and clear, not to mention a bit louder than he usually allowed. It echoed around the room, and he felt everyone's eyes on him, especially Clarke's. To her credit, at least, she managed to keep her face neutral.

Murmurs broke out softly before others began to volunteer, and the attention soon was drawn away from Bellamy's overzealous declaration. But Clarke's eyes never left him.

As soon as they were out of the meeting, Clarke unceremoniously grabbed Bellamy's arm and dragged him down the hall into her room. She closed the door but stood there for a moment, her back to him, seeming to prepare herself.

Bellamy decided to go for a casual approach. "What is it, princ—?"

"What were you thinking?" she demanded before he could finish, whirling around.

He blinked. "What?"

"What was that back in the meeting? You know you can't go to the summit."

Bellamy bristled immediately. "Of course I can."

"No you can't," she said, and she seemed genuinely angry. What about him coming along could make her so upset? "Do you even realize how much the grounders hate you? Your very presence will unseat the meeting."

He scowled. "They're not big fans of you either, Clarke. After everything we've gone through with them, the only reason they didn't kill you back then was because of Lexa." She stiffened at this, and he added apologetically, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. But you know it's true. They have as much reason to hate you as they do me by this point."

"Yes, but at least I have experience working with them. You? Not so much."

For the life of him, Bellamy couldn't understand her stubbornness on the matter. "What is this really about, Clarke?"