Bellamy Blake was used to having his girlfriend coming home with the most random things he could think of. From ten new books she would read to the one time she brought home a very drunk Jasper Jordan covered completely in sparkly pink paint and wearing a fedora. She never liked things not having a home. Bellamy had found his home in her and he couldn't help but sympathize.
So, when Clarke entered the living room with her hands behind her back and she talked really fast, he knew something was up. "Clarke, whatever you brought home... The answer is no. A thousand times no."
"Bell..." she knew what the nickname did to him when it came to her, especially when said with her lips in a pout and her chest on display because of the way her arms were positioned. He groaned and set his book down. "Bell-y..." she moved toward him, setting a box down on a table. She straddled him on the couch. "Please." She kissed his cheek to the base of his neck knowing exactly what it was doing to him. "This will be the last time. I promise." She motioned an 'x' over her heart as if to swear.
"What's in the box, princess?" He asked and saw the way her eyes lit up.
"Okay! One second! It has to be presented correctly!" She moved to the box and reached in to grab something. Something made a squawk and Bellamy became very alert.
"Please don't let it be another cat..." He whispered to himself. He couldn't have that argument and silent treatment revenge again. A yip came from a black furry thing in Clarke's arms. "What is it?"
"It's a puppy!" Clarke smiled brightly at him with that puppy dog look in her eyes. "Please! Can we keep it!? Please? He's so cute!"
"And messy... and little... and" he saw the way her eyes looked down saddened. "We can keep him..." Bellamy caved instantly.
"Yay!" Clarke set the puppy back into the box and tackled Bellamy back on the couch with the force of her hug.
"This is the last thing though." He says feeling her smile against his neck.
One week later...
"Bell..." Clarke was smiling.