Her lips were soft.
He stood stunned for a few seconds before he felt her mouth moving against his own. It was awkward at first, their lips fumbling together as they tried to find a steady pace. His pulse was rushing. She was shaking. He wasn't thinking straight; he wasn't thinking at all.
Once she opened her mouth, he was a goner.
His tongue weaved between hers and they danced in almost perfect harmony. He groaned as he brought his hands to either side of her face, kissing her with everything he felt. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling but it was enough to spark his entire body.
He pulled away first with a pant. He tilted his head back and kept his hands on either side of her face. Her blue eyes opened slowly and he watched the recognition of what she had done wash over her face. Her eyes grew wide and she brought a hand to her lips; he wondered if hers tingled like his still were.
Their eyes remained locked before she lowered her hand and kissed him again. This time, it wasn't hesitated. She moved almost in slow motion. Tilting her head toward the side as she latched her lips onto his. They kissed another like it had been something they did a million times before.
Her hands were in his hair and his seemed to be everywhere on her that he could touch without thinking too much about it. He felt the soft curve of her small hip. He felt the smooth lace beneath his fingertips. He felt their hearts starting to beat together as one.
He never felt like this before with a person. He never felt this ignition in his bones. He never felt passion creeping up his back and into his fingers at the mere touch of her skin.
It drove him wild.
It consumed him.
She pulled way this time with red lips and tinted cheeks. His hand remained on her hip and he wasn't sure if he was even breathing.
It was as if time had stopped. He watched whatever was between them change right before his eyes. This wasn't anything ordinary, this wasn't something he could get rid of. This was an addiction, a craving that couldn't be contained by anything other than the girl before him.
He lowered his hand and weaved it between hers. It was different than before. This time the simple contact from her hand made him feel everything he had felt with his lips attached to hers.
He didn't say anything as they walked toward his car. He opened the door for her and watched her settle in. He stood still and she turned her head in confusion at the fact that he hadn't moved. He couldn't answer her with words because he wasn't good at words and he wasn't good at saying what he was actually feeling.
So, he bent down and kissed her again. She sat up straighter and brought a hand to the side of his face as if she was consumed as much as he was. When he pulled away she remained close to his face, a brief smile on her face.
"You're not what I expected." Her voice was tender and her lips were swollen.
He couldn't find his voice. He wasn't sure if it was shock or the fact that this entire situation was not something he saw coming, if at all. He never thought he would feel this way about a girl and he wasn't even sure what the hell was going on with him. He repeated the words back to her and watched her lips turn up into an even bigger smile. He lowered his head and shook it at her before he glanced at his worn out boots.
He glanced at the shiny shoes on her feet then back toward his own. The last time he got a pair of new boots was last winter and he didn't even want to think about how long he had the pair before.
He glared at his shoes.
He turned his head up and glanced at her. Her brow was fused and her hands were folded in her lap as she watched him. She probably saw whatever just happened flicker over his face.
He was fucking up already.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before folding her hands back into her lap. She waited a bit before answering and he watched the brief conflict wash over her face before she shook her head.
He nodded and felt his pulse rise as he slowly shut her door. He made his way toward the driver's side and slid into his seat. He could hear her breathing and he could feel his own pulse rushing. This never happened before when he took a girl home. But this wasn't just some ordinary girl. This was the girl he felt so conflicted over. This was the girl that made him feel things that didn't make sense. This was a girl that seemed to brighten entire constellations that floated in the sky.
He started the car and then reached for her hand, weaving it through his own. Anchoring himself so he wouldn't float away.
It was strange how one person could confuse the hell out of him but make him feel completely still at the same time. He gripped her hand and brought it into his lap as he drove them toward his apartment.
He didn't even pay attention to the roads as he drove. All he could focus on was the soft humming she did as she sang along to some song on the radio and how her thumb rubbed patterns against his hand.
Once his apartment came into view and her hand fell from his, all the nerves rushed back into him. He never got nervous. Not about things like this. Not about girls. Not about anything.
It was like he was having an out of body experience.
He held her hand tightly as he walked her up to his apartment. It was dark when he entered the small space and as he flickered on the light, he saw Octavia's curly handwriting on the table, saying she was out at the movies with Jasper and Monty.
He placed the note back onto the table and didn't look behind him as he pulled Clarke to his bedroom. His heart was in his ears.
When he turned his light on and faced her, her face seemed to mirror what his mind what trying to comprehend. He watched her gulp as she glanced at his made bed before looking at him. She didn't have to say anything after that. He knew without asking that she hadn't done anything like this before. He let out a sigh of relief, even though he didn't know what for.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "We don't-." He watched her face. "don't have to do anything, alright?" He thought about the feeling of her lips on his. "We can just sleep."
She nodded and crossed her arms. "I've-I." Her face flushed.
He shook his head and smiled lightly at her. He brought his hand to her face and rubbed her cheek. "It's alright." She nodded and he dropped his hand before he turned toward his dresser. He pulled out a long sleeved blue shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He held them up toward her before throwing them in her direction. Whatever they were feeling moments ago fleeted as she giggled softly and grasped the clothes in her hands. He reached for a pair of sweatpants for himself as he nodded toward his door. "I'll let you change."
"Alright."
He moved around her and then down the hall toward the bathroom. He closed the door and moved toward the sink. He gripped the cheap porcelain beneath his fingers and rested his head against the medicine cabinet. He had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't like this. He wasn't the good guy.
He thought of her laughter. He thought of her lips.
He groaned as he hit his head against the mirror before he quickly changed. He pulled a navy shirt off the back of the bathroom door (he would have gone without one but he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable). He shut the light off in the bathroom and slowly padded toward his own room. He knocked and waited for her to tell him it was okay to come in.
The dress she wore was folded neatly on-top of his dresser. Her hair flowed around her as she sat Indian style on his bed. Her hands clutched the ends of the sleeves of his shirt and her cheeks still were a rosy red. It was becoming his favorite color.
He turned the light off and opened his window a bit before he sat on his bed. She crawled under the covers and he found himself doing the same.
They faced another and the brief moonlight was enough for him to see the features of her face. The brightness of her eyes. The small freckles on her cheeks. The barely noticeable mole above her lip.
She brought her hand up and traced his face lightly, almost hesitantly beneath her fingertips; they left a trail of fire on his face. He scooted closer toward her and placed his arm around her waist.
He wanted to say something to her. He wanted to trace every inch of her skin with his fingers. He wanted to explore her mouth with his own.
Instead, he watched as she quickly fell asleep.
He didn't even remember falling asleep but when his eyes opened next, the room was barely lit by the sunlight from outside.
They were facing another and their bodies had become more intertwined than when they had first gotten in bed together. Her leg was thrown over his and her head was resting on his arm. His was gripping the back of her shirt so tightly. He frowned as he let go.
He brought his free hand and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. He paused when he felt her stir beneath him. She breathed out and twisted up her nose before she slowly opened her eyes.
They looked at another again.
Her eyes blinked rapidly before they settled down and onto his face. He stared right back at hers. Her blue eyes, the same shade of the ocean held just enough mystery for him to continue searching for something he had no clue he needed.
The glow from the sun shined delicately through the window, it reminded him of her hair, which he was now weaving his hands into.
"Hi." His voice was rough with sleep.
"Hi." Her voice was as beautiful as a bird singing in the forest.
He looked at her in question before she remained still. He slowly brought his lips toward hers and nipped at her bottom lip, coaxing it with his own. He needed more. So much more.
He gently pushed her onto her back before settling his weight softly on-top of her. She gripped his shirt in her hands and opened her mouth more for his own. He felt his body awakening in more ways than one. He wanted her and he wanted her to feel every once of it.
But then, something inside of him made his freeze. He didn't want to rush this. He didn't want to fuck this up, which he knew he would. He wanted more time with her before everything that was going on between them vanished because after-all, it was his life and happy endings didn't exist for a guy like him.
He softly bit her bottom lip before he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He didn't think he would ever grow tired of seeing her lips after his had ravished them.
She was still gripping his shirt. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down the storm that was going through his body. He glanced at her and brought a hand to push some strands of hair away from her face. "What's your favorite book?"
She titled her head in confusion, not understanding what he was getting at. He wasn't sure himself. "Why?"
He couldn't think of a better way to say it, so he said exactly what came into his head at her question. "I want to know everything about you."
Her cheeks turned rosy as she glanced down at her chest before looking up at him. Her lips swelled still, her eyes bright and her pale skin glowing. "A Tale of Two Cities." Her voice was a whisper. He soaked up in it. "What's yours?"
"Of Mice and Men." His voice was a whisper. He recalled reading the book to Octavia when she woke up from nightmares. It was the only book they had for a few years, he wasn't even sure where it came from.
They fell into silence again but he could feel her pulse beating rapidly beneath him. He closed his eyes briefly before he glanced down at her with a sad smile on his face. "I'm not a good guy, Clarke."
She took in his words but remained still beneath him. She brought her hand to his chest over his heart before bringing it up and cupping his face. "Seem pretty good to me."
He wanted to tell her that he wasn't. He would push her away. He would break her. He always broke everything.
Her brow scrunched up as she lowered her hands back onto the bed. He still hadn't moved from over top her. He was selfish.
"What is it?"
She turned her head at his question and bit her lip. "My mom is having this party tomorrow." She closed her eyes. "I want you to come." Her eyes were closed for a bit more before she slowly opened one and then another. She took in his face and glanced away. "Forget it. It-it was stupid to ask."
He tilted her head back toward hers. He wondered if she could feel his hand shaking. He would stick out like a sore thumb at one of those parties. He didn't even have a nice dress shirt except the one he wore to work. He looked at her again. Her teeth biting into her bottom lip. "I'll go."
The smile she gave him was enough.
...
The music was loud.
He yawned briefly as he followed the back of Jasper's head into the overcrowded bar. After dropping Clarke back at her house (with much kissing in-between), he had gone to work already a bit exhausted. However in order to calm his nerves and to get a bit loose, he decided to take up Jasper and Monty's idea of a good time.
The good time meant they would go to the hole in the wall bar a few blocks from his apartment.
His mind was swarming with expectations of how tomorrow would go down. He had found a navy blue dress shirt in the back of his closet and ironed it before he went to work. He pictured it hanging on the back of his door alongside a pair of his dress pants from work.
His nerves were on high. He needed a drink.
"Alright, alright, alright." Jasper said as he placed a few shots between them. He didn't even listen to his friend as he downed two. "Well, next round is on you, buddy."
He forced a smile. The liquid burned but not in a way that it usually did. He just needed to relax and turn his mind off.
The music was blaring off the walls and it was enough to consume him as he listened to Jasper try to explain his current story from work to an already tipsy Monty. He nodded his head to the music and sighed in content.
He wondered what Clarke was doing. He wondered if she was reading in her room or if she was helping her mother get ready for the party tomorrow.
God, that party was going to kill him.
He waved down the bartender and gestured for another round of shots. He was in the middle of his fourth shot when Monty punched him in the shoulder. He narrowed his eyes and turned toward him. "What the fuck, man?"
Monty nodded he head toward the center of the dance floor. He couldn't really tell at first but once he saw a glimpse of a red ribbon and the girl trying to get away from whoever was grabbing her, his eyes cleared and whatever buzz he had was gone. He pushed away from the bar and toward the massive amount of people.
He heard Jasper mumble something under his breath but follow him toward the dance floor. Music was blaring and he could see his sister turning her hand trying to get out of Atom's grip. He pushed people aside and quickly yanked her toward him.
"Bellamy." Her voice was rushed in relief but it was short lived as she took in the look on his face. "Bellamy, I'm alright."
He thought about Octavia being ignored as a child by their mother. He thought about Octavia coming home from school crying because her classmates had teased her for wearing his clothes when she quickly outgrew her own. He thought about Octavia coming home with marks on her arms from the guy before him.
She tugged on his arm again. He looked at her. At the red ribbon she so often wore since she was able to put her hair into a ponytail. Her innocence shined and the rage he felt in his chest only seemed to grow.
Octavia came before everything.
He glanced at Jasper and watched Jasper's jaw harden with a nod as he quickly pulled his sister behind him. Octavia was pleading with him. The music was loud. His vision was crystal clear.
He turned his full attention to Atom. His blood was pumping. His adrenaline was running. "Remember what I said last time I saw you?" He spit and watched Atom stand up straighter. "I said the next time you touch her, I'd kill you."
Octavia's voice swarmed around in his ears. "Bellamy, please."
He took a minute before he turned toward his sister. He watched her pleading face as she tried to move around Jasper and Monty. He let out a breath. Octavia was okay. She was safe. She wanted him to walk away. He just needed to walk away. He needed- Atom's knuckles connected to his jaw.
He lifted up his head quickly and moved without thinking. The people around him swarmed away as he caused Atom to fall to the floor with a loud thud. He didn't think. He didn't feel as he punched him in the face. His victory was short lived as he felt himself being thrown to the floor onto his back. He tried to move but the wind was knocked out of his lungs.
Atom straddled him and continued to hit his face. He felt his right eye starting to swell from the impact. Octavia was screaming.
He huffed and with whatever strength he could muster, tossed a punch into the side of Atom's head, causing him to loose balance and fall off him.
He let out a breath as all the sounds came rushing back into his ears. The music. The silence of the crowd. Octavia crying. The bartender yelling that he called the cops.
"We gotta go, man." He looked to see Jasper holding out his hand. He mustered whatever strength he had as he grasped Jasper's hand, allowing him to be tilted upward.
His body was aching but he reached for Octavia. Her eyes were wide and he knew she was about to have a panic attack. He gripped her arm lightly and tugged her toward the door. Blood was gushing out of his nose; his right eye was drooping already.
He tossed his keys to Jasper as he slowly maneuvered himself into the backseat. Octavia was silent as she climbed in next to him. Her hands were shaking. He gripped them in between his own.
She turned toward him. Her green eyes wide. Her red ribbon falling out of her hair. "You shouldn't have done that. You could've – you-."
He pulled her to him. "I'm alright." He clutched her head toward him as his repeated the words. It wasn't until the fifth time did he realize he wasn't alright.
He wasn't alright at all.
...
Octavia's face was scrunched up.
She held up her small compact mirror from where she sat on her bed, toward his face. He grimaced at his own reflection. He couldn't open his right eye and no matter how many cover-ups Octavia applied to his face, it still shined a deep purple.
"Is it outside? Maybe you can wear sunglasses."
He glared at her with his one eye. She laughed.
Once her laugh faded away she stared at him with a distant look on her face. She crossed her arms and scratched lightly at her nose. "You really like her."
He didn't answer or fix her statement. The word like seemed too vague. It seemed like a pointless phrase that didn't capture the volcanic eruption occurring inside of his chest at the mere mention of her.
He leaned down and kissed Octavia's forehead as he told her he would call her later. She had mumbled before turning into her bed and wishing him to have a good time.
His stomach clenched when she turned toward the wall, already isolating herself.
He ran a hand through his hair as he headed out of Octavia's room. He paused in the kitchen to take a deep breath before he ventured out of the apartment.
Once he reached his car and picked the pair of sunglasses hanging against his visor. He pushed them onto his face, wincing as he did so.
He legs bounced as he drove. This was an awful idea. He didn't want anything to do with it but Clarke had asked him and the thought of letting her down overcame the thought of going.
He jumped in his seat as he drove, tapping his hands rapidly against the wheel. Once he pulled up toward the giant house, his heart pumped as loudly as it had when he punched Atom in the face.
Cars swarmed the road and her driveway was packed. He stared at the red door before mustering up whatever courage he had as he got out of his car and headed toward it. He smoothed out his dress shirt and pulled off his sunglasses with a groan as the sunlight reflected off his bruised eye. He knocked on the door.
There wasn't an answer. He tested the knob and opened it. Chatter rang throughout his ears.
He shut the door quickly behind him and felt his hands sweating at his side.
He glanced to his left and then his right. There wasn't anyone he knew. Then again, this wasn't really the crowd he intermingled with. He heard someone gasp as his face and he forced a smile as he stood awkwardly near the door.
"Excuse me but-." He turned and took in a face that looked so much like Clarke's. Her face was rounder and her skin wasn't as smooth but the resemblance was there. She took him in as he took her in. "This is a private party."
He bit his tongue.
"Good thing he was invited then." He turned and watched Clarke make her way up from the long hallway. Her hair was partially tucked behind her as she sported a white dress with a navy blue cardigan. He smiled at their resemblance as he glanced at his own navy blue shirt.
Clarke moved toward him and stood beside him as she addressed her mother. "Mom, this is Bellamy. Bellamy, mom." She didn't give her mother much room to talk before she tugged him down the hallway.
She pulled him into the kitchen. He saw familiar faces of people he worked with moving around the kitchen preparing food. He would have said something but his face was softly turned in her direction. Her delicate features were twisted in concern as she turned his face from side to side.
"What happened?"
He couldn't think of a time where Clarke Griffin had seen him without a bruise somewhere on his body. He shrugged as he shoved a hand into his pant pocket. He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want her to think of him as that kind of guy.
"I'm alright." That phrase caused him to stiffen, just as it had when he said the words to Octavia merely hours ago. He grew nervous. This was an awful idea. "I should go."
Her hand reached around for his. "I want you to stay."
He glanced around the kitchen, receiving a few nods from his co-workers. He could have easily been one of them, hidden away from the masses in the large kitchen.
He was brought out of his thoughts when she pulled lightly on his head. A serious look on her face as she looked him in the eyes (well, eye). "Okay?"
He nodded and kept his hand wrapped around hers as she led him out of the kitchen. She mostly hid away from people, which was fine to him. She had introduced him to a few pairs of people as they passed by on the way outside. He saw all of these people from The Ark but they didn't know him at all and they sure didn't focus on anything Clarke said as they took in his bruised face with a sneer.
She pulled him into the backyard and trekked toward a pair standing off to the side, wrapped up in another. They untangled the closer they got. Clarke's hand tightened in his own. She turned toward him with a wide smile, a genuine smile. "Bellamy, this is my best friend, Wells." She gestured toward the brunette girl beside him. "And his girlfriend, Harper."
If Wells was shocked with his face, it didn't show. He smiled just as largely as Clarke as he offered him his hand. He shook it and stood aside as Clarke fell into conversation with them. He wanted to badly to add to their conversation but he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to embarrass Clarke, so he said nothing.
He was grateful that they didn't really move anywhere else for the next hour. Wells made him laugh and he surely made Clarke happy. It was a good sight to see.
He felt her hand tucked into his no matter how many stares they got. When the stares caused him to clench his jaw, her thumb would run over his hand, even as she continued talking to Wells.
It grounded him. It made him unwind his jaw.
It lasted until he turned his head and watched Abigail Griffin staring at him with a look of disapproval on her face. It was enough to make him feel worse than the bruises on his face did.
It was enough to make him wish he was someone else completely.
...
Clarke's lip touched his jaw.
She held an ice pack toward his swollen eye and twisted up her face when he grimaced at the impact. She kissed his jaw again.
The kitchen was empty now. The only notification that there had been workers there earlier was the amount of dishes drying in racks beside the sink. He traced the granite counters beneath his fingers as Clarke continued to ice his eye.
He wished he was good enough for her. He wished he understood when she spoke about Yale. He wished the world didn't turn their heads away when he stood next to her.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He gave her an apologetic smile as he reached for it. His sisters name lighting up the screen. He stepped aside and answered the call, something flying into the bit of his stomach.
She was crying into the phone. Apologizing for interrupting him but he barely could make it out. She kept crying. Speaking in words he didn't understand. His hands started to shake from holding the phone. She begged him to come home and he promised he would before she disconnected the call. He shoved his phone back into his pocket before he turned toward Clarke's concerned face. She always looked at him that way.
"I have to go." Her face nodded quickly in understanding. He wondered if she heard Octavia crying through the phone. "My sister – I just – I have to go."
She nodded again as she dropped the ice pack onto the counter. She quickly led him out of the kitchen and even quicker through her house. She walked toward his car with her arms crossed. "Do you need me to do anything?"
"No." His answer was quick and he watched something twist upon her face. He frowned. "I'm sorry it's just-."
She interrupted him. "I understand." She gestured for his phone and he frowned as he pulled it out. She quickly began typing her number into it. How strange was it that he knew the feeling of her skin and the lush of her lips but not her phone number. "Call me if you do."
He nodded as he placed his phone back into his pocket. He glanced at her and then back toward her house. He sighed but leaned his head down and connected his lips toward hers; the spark causing the panic in his body to rush away for a moment and also intensify behind belief. It was a weird feeling.
He pulled away and nodded before he jumped into his car. He watched her stand where he left her as he drove away.
He clenched the steering wheel and drove toward his apartment. His foot never leaving the gas petal.
He parked before his apartment and tore up the stairs. His pulse rushing in his ears. His eye tingling from pain.
He threw open the door and was welcomed with silence. He ran down the hallway and toward Octavia's room. The silence was loud. He pushed open her door and let out a breath as he took in her curled position on her bed.
He made his way toward her and mumbled her name. She lifted up her head and took in his face, even though it appeared she didn't see him at all. She threw herself onto him, crying into his neck as her body trembled, mumbling words he couldn't make out.
He shouldn't have left her alone.
He brought a hand toward her hair and smoothed it under his palm as he began to hum the song he always did.
When she came back to earth, she apologized repeatedly but he didn't hear it. He thought about the silence he felt when he entered the apartment. He thought about a million different scenarios that could have happened instead of this one. His body shook as he held her tighter.
He shouldn't have left. He shouldn't have been so distracted to notice how low she had gotten. He shouldn't have allowed himself to become so weak. A pair of blue eyes entered his mind but he pushed them away. He couldn't go there. She deserved better than this life he had. He wasn't better.
He was an angry guy that had too much baggage.
He decided then to be done with Clarke Griffin before she figured that out herself; leaving him like everyone else did.