Clarke was angry. She was angry and sick and tired. Tired of Finn's tricks and excuses. Tired of stupid, handsome, idiotic Bellamy bossing her around and acting like he was better than her, even though they were pretty much equals here on the ground. Tired of people getting hurt because of stupid accidents and her having to take care of them. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice told her that that wasn't a very reasonable thought to have, but right now the word reasonable wasn't exactly in her vocabulary. She was tired of the rest of The 100 treating her like shit. Like she was breakable, disposable, a stupid little princess.

She could still hear the taunts in her head as she stormed through the camp, soaking wet.

Come on, princess. It was just a joke. What? You can't take a little bit of fun?

Fun? I don't think Little Miss Royalty here knows the meaning of the word fun.

It had been a routine hunting trip and they were following the trail of what they thought could be a wild boar, and a big one at that, which would've been great since it could feed the entire camp for about a week. Until some wiseass thought it would be a great idea to push her into the river. She'd been walking for about a mile already and she was still squeezing water out of her clothes.

Great, she thought, Absolutely perfect. She was done being the butt of the jokes around here.

She stomped over to her tent, ignoring the questioning looks she got from the other teenagers that were around camp preparing for dinner. Ripping aside the flap she looked around for something to change into and sighed. As Clarke pulled on a dry set change of clothes an idea struck her.

I'll show you fun, she thought bitterly. Before she could talk herself out of it or come to her senses she strode purposefully out of her tent and looked around. When her gaze landed upon what she was looking for she smiled.

"Monty!" she called out to the boy as he himself was coming out of his tent. He looked up at her in question. "I need some of your moonshine."

"Why? Do you need to sterilize something? Is someone hurt? Oh my god who is it?" he asked in a rush. Clarke shook her head in confusion.

"What? No. It's for me." she replied simply. He eyed her warily for a moment before nodding slowly and backing into his tent, returning a moment later with a small thermos. Clarke smiled at him as she grabbed it. Unscrewing the lid as she stood there, she momentarily had a thought that this might be a bad idea before pushing it to the back of her mind and taking a large gulp. The alcohol burned her throat as it went down and sent a shudder down her spine. With a wince she wiped her mouth and looked over at Monty, whose mouth was gaping open at her. "Thanks." she said, her voice slightly choked. With that she turned and walked away, leaving him staring after her in bewilderment.

Bellamy was exhausted. He'd not been able to sleep because he'd been on patrol since the early morning. Then he had to break up a fight between two idiots who thought it was a good idea to start pushing each other inside the smokehouse, nearly burning the place down with them inside. After that a girl came in from hunting, needing to be held up between two guys because she broke her ankle by tripping over a root in the woods.

Bellamy ran a hand down his face and sighed. Who knew that taking care of a camp full of teenage delinquents could be so stressful. Go figure. What he really needed was some food and a good night's sleep. He looked up to see his favorite blonde princess stumbling around the camp bumping into people and not watching where she was going. He smirked to himself, enjoying the thought of pushing her buttons a little bit. In fact, some of the tension seemed to leave his shoulders at the mere notion of it.

Suddenly her eyes shot up and met his, almost as if she could tell he'd been thinking about her. Clarke changed course so she was headed towards Bellamy. She walked with a purpose, though she tripped over her own feet a couple times. Bellamy's brow furrowed in confusion as she neared him and nearly fell on her face. He grabbed her arm to steady her and was surprised when she didn't immediately pull away.

"Whoa there, princess." he said teasingly, a genuine smile gracing his face. He found himself doing that more and more around her lately and her didn't exactly know why.

"Don' call me tha'" she slurred and pulled her arm away finally. He was surprised to find he missed it. The smile was replaced with confusion on Bellamy's face as she stumbled again. This time when he tried to steady her she righted herself and pushed his arm away.

"Are you drunk?" he asked incredulously. She turned to look at him with a glare. This was fairly normal, only this time her eyes couldn't exactly focus.

"Maybe…" she responded indignantly. She swayed and didn't protest when he led her over to a log to sit down. The sky had grown darker and the bonfire that was lit every night was already raging in the middle of the camp. Clarke had quieted down and was now staring into the flames as if they held the secrets of the universe. Bellamy studied her, not for the first time. Over the weeks they'd somehow grown closer. Sure, he still loved to tease her and they could fight relentlessly, not only driving each other crazy, but everyone around them. And she knew exactly what to do to make him question his own sanity. But something had changed as well. They worked beside each other to keep everyone alive and keep things running smoothly, and it worked. He even grew to like her, maybe even…well you know. And now, as he looked at her, with her face bathed in firelight, he couldn't think of anything more beautiful.

"Is' your faul' ya know." she spoke suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. He eyes met his accusingly, but instead of being offended, he was amused.

"What's my fault?" he asked with a smirk on his face.

"This." she exclaimed, gesturing to herself sloppily, almost spilling the bottle that he noticed for the first time was still in her hand. He carefully reached over her body, extracted the bottle and set it on the ground. She barely even noticed.

"What does that mean exactly?" he said, chuckling. She rolled her head around on her neck, turning to look at him.

"Me bein'…drunk. If you 'adn't started callin' me princess, then they wouldn'a started makin' funna me. If they 'and't started makin' funna me, then they'd nev'r would'a pushed me inna river." Bellamy started and raised his eyebrows at her. He made a mental note to figure out who 'they' were so he could put them on midnight patrol duty for a month. Clarke didn't notice his reaction or she didn't care because she kept on speaking. "It doesn't work, by the way." He turned back towards her, surprised by how in control of herself she seemed suddenly. She wasn't focused on him, though, she was looking up and the stars as she sighed. "I'm still 'ngry. Still sad. I just…can't focus on it as easily. Evr'ythins' just blurry. But you," she spun to face him and almost fell off the log. He caught her arm, causing her to fall into him instead. She only giggled and leaned into him more closely, lowering her voice to a whisper. Her breath was warm against his face. "You aren't blurry. You're jus' 'andsome, with your stupid brown eyes, an' your stupid smile, and your stupid god damn muscles. An' you're nice to me, well sometimes. Other times you're like 'Grrrr, I'm Bell'my Blake and I'm bett'r than you'. But some 'a those sometimes I jus' wanna…" she leaned closer to Bellamy's face, her gaze not wavering from his. Her lips just barely brushed his, he could taste the bitter alcohol on her lips. He'd sat motionless her entire rant and now he was clueless about what to do next. Luckily, that decision was made for him.

Clarke's eyes widened comically as she turned away from him and puked her last meal. Bellamy was frozen, his back ramrod straight. He sat for a moment, not entirely sure what had just happened. Clarke's heaving snapped him into focus, though. He pulled her hair out of the way and rubbed her back as she continued to be sick. He shook his head as he thought to himself in disbelief, that even when she was throwing up, Clarke still managed to be beautiful.

What has this girl done to me, he thought. Rolling his eyes at his own corniness he stood, helping Clarke up as well.

"Come on, princess." he said softly, lifting her bridal style into his arms. "Time for bed."

Clarke opened her eyes slowly, only to close them again immediately against the harsh sunlight filtering in through a gap at the top of the tent. She groaned softly as she brought her hands up to rub at her temples. She had a raging headache, her head was pounding like the Grounders' war drums.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," said a voice to her right. Her eyes shot open. She knew that voice. She slowly turned her head to see Bellamy standing in the doorway of her tent. Wait, no. Not her tent. She sat up quickly, clutching her-no Bellamy's blankets, since they were in his tent, close to her chest.

"Bellamy." she ground out between her teeth. "What. The. Hell?" He only smiled at her.

"How much of last night do you remember, princess?" he said curiously. Her eyes widened as she looked down at herself, only to find that that she was no longer dressed in her own clothes, but rather one of Bellamy's t-shirts.

"Oh my God. Oh my God, did we-?" Clarke asked in a panic. This time it was Bellamy's eyes that widened.

"What? I mean- I- Uh, I don't, I mean, no. We didn't." He cleared his throat awkwardly. he shifted his feet, like he didn't know what to with himself. "Uh, here have some water, it'll help your head." Clarke slowly reached out and grabbed the cup from his hands and immediately he turned and busied himself with something on the other side of the tent. Okay this was weird. Not that it wasn't weird already, but normally he would take any opportunity he could to make a joke and make her feel uncomfortable. Now, it was almost like Bellamy was the one that was uncomfortable. Clarke gratefully took a few sips of the water, unaware how thirsty she'd been until now. That was another thing, since when was Bellamy this considerate?

"Bellamy, where are my clothes? What happened last night?" Clarke asked softly. He turned around to face her, smiling softly.

"You got drunk and threw up all over your clothes. I washed them out, they're out drying over the fire, don't worry." He turned back around quickly, as if trying to avoid her. Clarke furrowed her brow and stepped out of bed towards him. She didn't find time to be embarrassed by her lacking of clothing, she was too freaked out by Bellamy being freaked out.

"Bellamy," he jumped and spun around to face her, shocked to find her so close. "What's the matter?"

He said nothing, only looked at her. Her eyes bored into his, trying to find the answers to her questions that he wouldn't reveal to her. If she hadn't been watching him so carefully she would've missed it when those eyes flickered down to her lips before coming back up to meet her gaze again. Before she could react, he surge forward, with a hand on either side of her face, and kissed her.

She inhaled deeply, her own hands coming up to grasp at him, one on his waist and the other tangled deep into his hair. His lips were chapped, but warm, with a constant pressure that she felt all the way down to her toes. She lost her self in the kiss and how it made her feel. Sure, she'd imagined what it would be like to kiss Bellamy before, but it was so much better in reality. His hands moved down her body to pull her flush against him, so that every inch of them was touching. When he pulled away, both of them were out of breath. She leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

"Well…" She said, trying to regulate her breathing "I certainly wasn't expecting that." He chucled softly and his laughter was infectious, eventually they were just standing in each other's arms, laughing breathlessly. It was then that Clarke realized that she was half naked, wearing only Bellamy's shirt.

"Um, not that I don't love this, but would you mind getting me some real clothes?" she asked him. He only smirked.

"Actually, princess, I would mind. You see, I'm perfectly fine just where I am." Clarke rolled her eyes, wondering why she couldn't just accept it when Bellamy was acting weird, at least then she wouldn't have the teasing.

You wouldn't have the kissing either, she reminded herself. Yeah, that was good too.

Nonetheless, he put her down gently, only to return a few moments later with her clothes, which she quickly put on.

"So," she began as she zipped up her pants. Bellamy just stood there watching, not bothering to turn around. "May I ask what brought this on? Was it something I did last night?" He smirked as walked over to her slowly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him to kiss her for the second time today. She sighed as she closed her eyes. Oh yeah, she could definitely get used to that.

"Actually, yes. You did have some things to say to me, about me. More specifically about my stupid eyes, my stupid smile, and my stupid muscles." he said, smiling down at her. Clarke groaned and let her head fall down on to his chest. Of course her drunk brain would think it was a good idea to tell Bellamy exactly what she thought of him. She could feel the vibrations moving through his body as he laughed at her. "Hey, I liked it until you decided to get rid of that day's meals all over the ground. It was very good for my ego to here you say those things." Clarke only shook her head and refused to look at him, so he tilted her chin up with his hand to look her in the eye. "Besides, you told me it was my fault you got drunk in the first place and figured I should make it up to you."

With that he leaned down to capture her lips for a third time, and Clarke knew that every bit of embarrassment, now and in the future, would be worth it for this.