When Clarke sees Bellamy again, it's at a concert. A Black Keys concert, to be specific. And it was probably the best thing she'd seen all week. Because he was dancing. Bellamy Blake, dancing.

To be fair, she dragged Raven with her and they're dancing as well, considering the band, which she'd only just heard of that day, wasn't too bad. She thought she was going to assail her ears tonight, but instead she had a new band to listen to.

"I'll be right back," Clarke said when she saw Bellamy walk toward the bar. Raven smirked and almost looked like she'd say something, but stopped herself as the band sang the chorus.

She asked for two waters loudly over the sound of Fever, standing right by his tall frame. She felt his eyes gaze over her, inspecting her strapless blue dress with something so unfamiliar that she nearly shuddered in his stare. It was intensity.

As she glanced back at him, she wondered how he managed to maintain eye contact with her, not looking away for a second like the night before. It was so heated, so warm. How didn't he feel the burn?

"You're everywhere, aren't you?" Bellamy asked teasingly, nudging his elbow lightly into her ribs.

She looked at him with eyebrows raised. "Would you mind? You're kind of ruining this for me." She gestured into the air.

"You know, considering you like the Black Keys, I'm probably gonna have to find a new favorite band," Bellamy said with a smirk.

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Well, they're no Radiohead, but they're not bad."

Bellamy looked at her like he'd never seen her before, surprised. "Radiohead. You like 'em?"

She bit her lip, remembering why she had known the band. The day Octavia and her skipped eighth period to look through his things, the day the plan took flight.

"You're asking me to investigate the inner workings of my brother's twisted mind? I don't think so!" Octavia said, mouthful of her sandwich.

Clarke took a sip of Octavia's tea with hesitation. "I mean, we need to go behind enemy lines here. I don't know enough about him."

Octavia paused for a moment before dropping her sandwich and holding Clarke's wrist, green eyes shining. "I know exactly what we can do."

So they spent an hour rummaging through Bellamy's weirdly clean room (no wonder he had a fit in Clarke's car), finding concert tickets, schedules, and the worst- condoms. Used, to be specific. Octavia nearly had a stroke.

"Well, don't you?" She smirked and walked closer toward Raven, who was watching them closely with intent.

Bellamy smiled back and took a sip out of her water bottle. She bit back her urge to say something sarcastic but let it slide.

"You know, I saw you dancing over there with your friend," Bellamy said loudly over the music, giving her his famous crooked grin.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

The music was dying down but he still remained his club-volume voice. "I've never seen you look so sexy."

Everyone around them laughed, but Clarke only looked down at the concrete ground, hiding her blush. For a moment, she forgot about her objective; dating Bellamy only for Octavia. It'd been getting harder and harder for her to remember, it seemed, the longer she was around him. She looked back up to see him still looking at her with a grin.

"Come to Jasper's party with me," Clarke said, taking one of his hands into hers. He didn't pull away. In fact, he squeezed it.

"You never give up, do you?"

She shrugged. "Was that a yes?" She held herself onto her tip toes so her lips are ghosting over his neck.

"No," He said, pulling his neck from her lips to let his forehead is almost touch hers.

Is he going to kiss me?

She yanked herself from his gaze. "So it's a no?"

"No," He said again, a glint in his eyes.

"See you at nine thirty then."

"Considering you're living with me right now, I think I'll see you before nine thirty."

Clarke laughed. "Touché."

Sometimes, Clarke forgot she was eighteen. She was an adult who could make her own decisions decisions without having to constantly ask her mother for permission. She didn't need to ask her if she could move into her friend's place.

As soon as Octavia suggested the idea to Aurora Blake, the mother was already signed up. No explanation needed, honey. Clarke forgot what names like sweetheart and honey sounded like when they weren't drenched in sarcasm and lies.

She asked Octavia to drive her through the neighborhood to get all of her belongings. She didn't want to open her eyes to see the glass palace again. She might end up getting cut by one of the shards.

Clarke made sure that they got in before her mother came back from her shift as head surgeon to get everything. She wouldn't know how to bear seeing her without crying again, or worse, if she kicked her out before she could take anything along with her.

She didn't take too many things. Art supplies, books. Photo albums of her and her friends, her father. Notebooks. Loose cash.

Clarke gave the room one last look before shutting the door for the final time.

"All moved in, huh?" Bellamy asked, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Clarke place the rest of her things around Octavia's room. She tried to take up the least amount of room she could, but in the small space there was left, her attempt was futile.

Clarke sighed. "Yeah. Thanks, by the way."

Octavia had left her stranded as soon as she drove her back to the Blake's house, now Clarke's home, saying something about a study group she should really head off to.

"And then you and Bell can have a little alone time unpacking all of your stuff," Octavia whispered, winking before taking off in Bellamy's car.

"So what do you usually draw?" Bellamy asked, glancing at a large pile of art supplies in the corner.

Clarke's face turned hot and felt the sudden desire to throw away every single sketchbook she's had since she was fourteen.

"Well, um, I draw people, I guess. A lot of drawings of people," Clarke breathed. It wasn't a complete lie, either. She did draw people. There was just one specific person, who just so happened to be asking the particular question, who was the subject of most of her doodles.

He seemed to notice her slight discomfort, so he only said "cool". Bellamy then pushed himself from the frame. He announced that he'd be taking a shower and left the room.

Clarke took a deep breath. Thank god he didn't push any further.

He was on the couch downstairs when she got done getting ready. She had pestered Bellamy into going to the party that advertised itself as a kegger, but she'd never gone to one herself. No time to, in between clinical classes, art projects, forced pretentious social gatherings pressed by her mother. What the hell was she supposed to wear? Were these flats too dressy for something that was obviously so casual? Were these jeans going to get uncomfortable?

But as soon as he looked at her, it all seemed to stop mattering.

It's all a part of the plan. Acting, Clarke thought, as she met Bellamy's gaze. Recently, it'd been harder trying to maintain that mindset.

"So," Bellamy said, standing up after his daze, "are we waiting for O?"

Clarke shook her head. "A friend's picking her up." She didn't mention that that friend was Lincoln.

"Cool."

As soon as they arrived, they were hit by the too familiar scent of sweat and weed.

"And look at all the fun I've been missing all of these years," Bellamy said sarcastically, gesturing toward two teens spitting in a vase.

Clarke laughed. "Let's get drinks." She grabbed his forearm and dragged him toward the table cluttered with various bottles of alcohol, pushing past several people who were already buzzed.

She was just about to grab a cup before she felt something push her into the table, and liquid something hit the back of her shirt. Glass from one of the bottles knocked over lay in shards on the floor and pricked at Clarke's legs. She winced.

"Ohmygod, I'm so sorry!" A girl behind her giggled, clearly not. Clarke touched the back of her tank top, then smelt her fingers. Alcohol, of course. She'd be lucky if it was pure vodka.

"Bitch!" Clarke whispered loudly, rubbing her fingers together as if it'd magically dry her shirt. She stared at her feet, watching them begin to prick with blood.

"You wanna go back home?" Bellamy asked, his features laced with worry. He lay a hand on her back, over the stain.

Clarke shook her head. "I asked you to come to a party with me, I can't just force you to stay here alone."

"I meant more like the both of us, Princess. You've got glass in your skin," Bellamy said with an eye roll. Clarke noticed how the nickname no more held malice behind it. "we can get takeout and watch a movie, if you want. And fix you up, too, obviously."

She looked into his eyes, searching for any signs that he was lying. "Are you sure that that's what you'd rather do?"

"Princess, no offense, but there's a reason I haven't been going to parties like this for the past four years."

"Alright, alright. Let's go."

She changed into her most comfortable clothes and got back downstairs to hear Bellamy ordering Chinese food in the kitchen.

"Uh, hi, can we get some fried rice and General Tso's Chicken? And some regular rice and sweet and sour chicken, thanks," She heard him say. She smirked. He remembered her order without even having to ask. And I thought pretending to like him was going to be hard.

A part of her still wondered whether she was pretending to like Bellamy Blake or if the constant fluttering of her heart against her chest was real, but then she saw him glancing at her from the kitchen and gave her a wide smile. Clarke couldn't help but give him a shy smile back.

For once, the thought of liking someone in a different way than she liked Octavia with didn't scare her as much as the others did. It terrified when she was with Wells. The thought that she might one day wake up in love with Finn terrified her considering the fate of his predecessor. But Bellamy felt comfortable. It was like all these years that were built up till they finally became kind to each other was like coming home from school after a long day. Bellamy was her home.

God, I'm fucked.

When their food got there, they sat on the couch, inches away from each other. She felt his heat radiating from him and wondered whether she should scoot over and meet him all the way. She was about to move before he handed over the remote.

"You know I'm going to pick some lame history documentary," Bellamy said, half embarrassed. She let her eyes trail over to the millions of DVDs in a bookshelf beside the TV and wondered how many were Bellamy's that he'd tried to force Octavia into watching. She almost laughed.

"I almost forgot that you were a history nerd," Clarke observed, "and to think I almost thought you were cool."

"Oh shut up, art geek."

She picked the Disney version of Hercules. She knew he'd have a fit over how they got all the mythology wrong, but she liked to think that it was still a compromise. Her love for cartoons and his love for mythology.

If someone would have told her last week that she would be taking Bellamy Blake's feelings into consideration, she would have laughed. God, that egotistical asshole with a slight hero complex? Yeah right.

And yet here she was, head in his lap as he ran a hand through her wavy hair lazily, eating Chinese takeout. Happy. She was happy.

Happiness had always been somewhat of a luxury in her life. Sure, she was happy when she could knock a few beers down with Raven and not feel obligated to get totally trashed. Or when Octavia bought her a tea without asking her to. But they were little moments. Her happiness had been stolen all her life from her mother, only caring for how she looked in front of the rest of society. But this moment felt like an infinity in the best way. She felt like she could lie in his lap till the universe exploded and the stars started falling. She'd melt with him if that meant she could hold onto this happiness forever.

The credits rolled and she was just about ready to fall asleep on his lap when he asked her a question. And to think she'd get out of the moments without tears.

"So why exactly did you run away from home?" He asked softly. "I mean, if you wanna answer."

Clarke sighed, slowly rising. "Um, my mom was just… She was forcing me into applying to these big colleges that I just don't want to go to, and she wants me to go to pre-med. I just can't do it. Maybe if I was smart I'd know that that's where I should be, but I can't do it, you know? I just can't. And I told her, right? I told her and she-" She paused to let out a sob.

He ran a hand from the top of her head down the the small of her back. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me anymore."

"She slapped me. She slapped me and I feel bad. I wake up in the middle of the night and instead of dreaming about killing my dead best friend or my own father I'm terrified that maybe this was my fault, that I'm being a spoiled brat. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this."

She looked up to meet his eyes. He stared at her like she hung the goddamn moon and she couldn't bring herself to wonder how he could when she was broken.

"You have nothing to feel bad about, you know that? Nothing. You have your own dreams, don't go off chasing your mother's. You can be whoever the hell you want here. You're safe. But don't let anyone ever make you feel like you don't deserve what you want, especially your mom."

These words would dig themselves permanently into her brain for the rest of the night. She wondered why for so many years she had been so mean to him. Why her main goal when coming to the Blake house was to rip at his self esteem for cheap laughs. She'd spend her whole life regretting those lost years, she decided. Till the end of time.

Clarke tucked her head into the space between his head and shoulder. "You're a good person, you know that Bellamy?"

"You're a good person too Clarke. A bit of a pain in the ass," He said teasingly as he pressed a kiss onto the top of her head, "but good."

They went to bed shortly after until she woke up again for a glass of water.

"Can't sleep again Princess?" A deep voice asked.

She ran a hand through her hair. "Nope."

"Same here." he raised a glass of water into the air.

"Why can't you sleep, Bell?"

He shrugged. "I guess it's because there's a whole half of the world that's awake. It's just hard to just fall unconscious when you think that there are people on the other side that are doing things, getting shit done while I just lie in a bed for eight hours, you know?"

"You're ridiculous."

"So are you," He said, trailing closer to her. She noticed how she could barely see the brown in his eyes anymore, pupils blown. "you know, I can't stop thinking about you."

Her heart skipped a beat, but she chose not to let it affect her for the moment. "You know," Clarke said, her nose touching his, "you're cuter when you shut up."

He quirked an eyebrow. "So you think I'm-"

She pressed her lips to his, interrupting him. Wrapping her arms around the back of his neck, she opened her mouth slowly to let his tongue in. He held her waist in his hands, digging his fingers softly into the skin on her back.

After a few seconds, Clarke pulled away, letting her forehead touch his. She wished she could freeze time to just stay in that position forever. Tell him how she really felt. Count the freckles that dotted his face like stars in the sky. Stare into his eyes for an infinity. Instead, she took a mental photo and pushed herself from his body, immediately feeling cold.

"Goodnight, Bellamy."

She didn't bother looking back to see his expression, but she wished she had.

hey guys! im sorry for the hella long wait time between each chapter but the summer creates this laziness that's kind of hard for me to snap out of... and yes the party scene wasn't quite like it was in the movie but idk i just really wanted this cute little stay at home and watch a movie scene between them so? and it was kind of a short chapter too ugh
and i might edit this chapter later because i've already written up chapter 8 so with all of the continuity issues and stuff, it might change as i write
but thank you for reading and please comment because it definitely motivates me to write more!