All Kinds of Therapy ( Bellarke Edition)

Chapter 3

"You guys! You opened gifts early? What the hell?" she complained.

"Just ours from each other, you will live" Bellamy smiled.

"Clarke. Thank you" he stated tipping the book to her.

"Yeah, and thank you, I love them" she smiled as he disappeared down the hall.

Octavia gave her a questioning glance.

"I needed a break from the group" Clarke replied.

"And Bell?"

"Doesn't believe in alone time?" Clarke asked equally as lost as Octavia.

"That's a fact, he likes everyone to be together, you coming back out?" Octavia asked.

"Yeah" she replied standing and laying the sets on her desk. She flipped the light switch heading for the kitchen where she downed her glass and refilled it before returning to the living room.

Everyone left in small groups until just Raven and Bellamy's friends remained. The girls went and changed into sleepware as the guys picked another movie.

Raven came back in a tight black t-shirt and red and white plaid pajama pants. Bellamy wouldn't lie, she had some body and Wick was in total silent agreement. Octavia had a matching set of blue short shorts and a tank top, Lincoln took a few seconds to let his eyes appreciate. The girls made themselves comfy on the floor, Clarke emerged last, in Bellamy's highschool football shirt, and he was fairly certain that was all she had on with the exception of underwear...he hoped. Bellamy didn't miss the once over Wick gave her.

She laid on her stomach on the floor with the other girls in front of Bellamy. She had herself propped up on her elbows and was watching the television. He was watching her. Everytime she moved his shirt would ride up her further. The bottom hem rested just below her ass. He averted his eyes to the movie on the television, but the damage was already done. It was an image that would be burned into his mind forever. A snap beside him caught his attention just before his phone dinged.

Bellamy opened his message.

Wick: Tell me that's not hot

It was attached to a picture of Clarke. He clenched his fist forcing himself to breathe.

"Keep that shit to yourself, don't be sending it to everyone."

He spoke quietly through clenched teeth.

"Chill, I'll delete it, watch." He held the phone to show Bellamy. He knew it wasn't a big deal but he didn't need her picture all over base, and either did she.

Clarke glanced at them.

"What are you two whispering about?" she asked.

"You, where did you get my shirt from?" he asked, attitude evident in his voice. She sighed, she knew it was too good to be true, peaceful didn't last long with them.

"This is my shirt, Octavia gave it to me" she replied matching his tone.

"Well it's not Octavia's to give!" he snapped angrily.

"Fine" she stood heading to her room and when she appeared again she was in a different shirt. She threw his at him.

"Keep the fucking thing" she stated, shortly followed by the slam of her door. Raven and Octavia shot him looks before heading to the kitchen. He groaned throwing his head back, he ran his hand over his face.

"Well, it's about time we go" Wick said as him and Lincoln stood.

"Yeah, thanks for having us" Lincoln added before they made there way to the kitchen to say goodbye to the girls. Bellamy stared at the ceiling lost in thought.

"What's up with you? You and her were fine a few hours ago, and then you flip over a shirt you haven't worn in six maybe seven years?" Octavia lectured. He closed his eyes.

"O, not tonight, alright? Just irked me is all"

"The shirt irked you?"

"No, the dam pictures of her Wick was taking irked me, barely dressed in my clothes. That's just what I need all over base. " he voiced obviously grouchy over the situation.

"Ahhh, maybe there was a better way to handle that then."

"Doesn't really matter, it's handled. That's all that matters, I'm gonna head to sleep if that's alright" he stated stretching out on the couch not waiting for her reply. She stood turning the light out and going back to the kitchen with Raven.

He tossed and turned, woke up frequently trying to avoid his dreams, his memories of over there, more like nightmares. People screaming, gunshots, he watched many of his friends die, held there hands, carried there bodies, packaged up their belongings. He was in and out of consciousness all night, a creak in the hallway had his attention. The light from the moon shone through the window lighting his face but making it hard for him to see anything.

"You holding up okay?" the voice was soft and hesitant, obviously Clarke.

"Yeah" he answered, his voice opposite hers, rough and abrupt. He refused to let her baby him, he's a Marine not some little kid. He didnt need someone to talk to, wouldn't change anything anyway, just be wasted time.

She didn't bother replying, his tone said it all, she just turned on her heel and headed back to her room.