A series of bellarke oneshots

Ive got you down

Not mine

The corridors of the Ark have always been Well's favourite part of the cavernous ship, the way that his footsteps echo off the metal floors a solid reminder that he's real, tangible, that even though he and thousands of others are drifting through space on an a hundred-year-old hunk of metal, they still have a solid structure to call home. The dark streaks of oil and rust that mark the walls only serve to remind him of the fact that this place is lived in, that it's a community, a family - a family of which his father is the patriarch.

The pressure of being the Chancellor's son can be overwhelming at times; a lifetime of being treated as alien by his peers, most of them viewing him as stuck-up and prejudiced against them, has left Wells with a strange relationship with most people his own age. He learned quickly how to tell the true friends from the ones that treated his friendship like a chance at status, and he's grateful that his best friend would never turn on him like he's had acquaintances do in the past.

Clarke, Wells reflects, is possibly one of the best things to ever happen to him. They met when they were very young, their parents knowing each other because of Thelonious and Abby's Council positions, and they've been scarily close ever since. They bring out the best in one another – Clarke reminds Wells that he can't live inside his own head, forcing him out of his cabin to attend parties and actually spend time with their classmates, whilst he tempers Clarke's abrasive tendencies. The give-and-take balances their friendship, and Wells can't think of anyone else he'd rather be his best friend.

In fact, he'd say their bond is more like siblings, if he had any points of reference besides old books and videos. However they choose to describe it, the fact of the matter is that Clarke is the person who knows the real Wells best, not counting his father and girlfriend.

His girlfriend, who coughs loudly, breaking the silence and managing to draw the librarian's attention. She glares at them, bristling with anger, and Raven snorts, ducking her head down and tucking her face into his shoulder so that her laughter goes unnoticed.

"We've been caught, Wells!" she stage-whispers, her breath fanning over the skin of his neck. "How dare people have fun in a library, we'll be floated by morning."

Wells finds himself having to bite back a smile too, glancing downwards at the mass of brown hair tucked under his arm.

"God, how will we deal with the shame?" he questions dryly, pushing his long-forgotten Earth Skills notes away, and dropping all pretence of actually studying. He and Raven have made a good effort, making their way through her stunningly boring Zero-Gravity material before taking a break that's ended up lasting more than an hour.

They've done better than Clarke, regardless, as the blonde didn't show up at all. Lateness isn't unusual for her; she's a busy person, her job at the clinic and packed social calendar mean that sometimes Wells feels like he has to fight to spend any real time with her. Still, it's great to get alone time with Raven, even if he feels like lately, he's seen significantly less of Clarke than usual.

He doesn't know if he's done something to offend her or what, but recently it's seemed like every time he's suggested they hang out, maybe watch an old soccer game like back in the good old days, has been met with a swift response of 'sorry Wells, I'm busy today/tomorrow/next Thursday.'

He's getting sick of it, to be honest. Wells doesn't anger easily, he's too much like his father, but when his best friend is acting like he has the 22nd Century equivalent of the Plague, he thinks he's allowed a little slip in composure. Clarke skipping on their group study session marks the third time this week that she's cancelled on him, this time citing an emergency training shift at the clinic. Between being willingly distracted by Raven and avoiding the glaring eye of the librarian, he's contemplating tracking her down. Maybe if he corners her, and ropes Raven in for back-up, she won't be able to brush him off with a paltry excuse about needing to wash her hair.