Hi there! I've been working on this one for a while and it's been a pain in my butt. But! It's finally finished and 11k words later, here we are! Honestly, I'm never going to be able to write short au stories, am I?

Anyway, I hope you like it!

Rated: T to be safe

God, she was so stupid.

Clarke looked helplessly at the luggage in front of her - which was decidedly not hers, she wasn't in the army, thank you very much.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she sighed. This was just not her day - or week. First, her flight was delayed by two freaking days, and she had to survive at the airport (because nobody could tell exactly when the next flight would depart), then she discovered that she left her favourite book at home, along with her sketchbook and pencils and now this!

She grabbed at the label on the luggage, to figure out who this belonged to. "Mmm. Well then, Mr B. Blake from Detroit, Michigan. We are going to have words."

She whipped out her phone, and started dialling the listed number. The guy picked up after two rings. "Are you C. Griffin?" he said in lieu of an 'hello'. He sounded grumpy and annoyed (she knew how he felt), but even so she could hear how attractive his voice was.

(She had a thing for voices, okay?)

"Yes, are you Mr Blake?" she said, fingering the label nervously. She didn't like phone calls, especially with strangers, and especially when those strangers were grumpy. "It seems we've switched luggage."

"It seems so. Are you still in LA?"

"Yes."

"Good. Let's meet up."

Okay. This guy didn't stand on ceremony.

"A friend of mine owns a coffee corner up town, called 'The Grounders'?"

There was a heartbeat's silence, in which Clarke wondered if she lost the connection. "Wait, my sister owns that place!" Surprise rang through his voice, and suddenly it clicked in her head. Blake, from Detroit. She knew a Blake from Detroit!

"You're not Bellamy Blake, Octavia Blake's older brother?"

"And you're Clarke Griffin, my little sister's best friend."

They both laughed at the fucking coincidence that they took each other's luggage and the mood improved immensely. They agreed to meet for breakfast at The Arc the following morning, and that was that.

Except it wasn't.

Because suddenly, they got texting for no apparent reason. He started it, with his question about Octavia, because he'd been enlisted for two years and hadn't talked to her for almost as long. And that's how they began talking about his life, and hers, and by the end of the night, the notifications of his incoming texts were filling her with a weird happy feeling.

My sister says you're very protective of people. Why is that, I wonder?

Clarke shook her head. She wondered if he'd called his sister tonight to inquire about the girl who has his luggage. Then she shook her head again, because no, that's just stupid, wishful thinking. I don't know. I just am.

It's now her mother raised her to be, ready to become a doctor (ironic that she never became one).

Bullshit, Princess. There's always a why.

Clarke groaned. So this guy claimed to know her, huh?

(Well, he wasn't wrong.)

How about I tell you over coffee tomorrow?

The silence stretched on longer than she liked, and for a moment she feared she'd insulted him. But two minutes later, he answered. I get a sense you don't trust me, Princess. I'm seriously wounded.

Clarke snorted. He was obviously not a emoticon guy, but she could practically hear the teasing behind his written words. Your manly ego abandoning you, Blake?

My manly ego is quite intact, I promise you.

It was hard not to read between the lines and see an innuendo there, but she forcefully suppressed the butterflies that it caused. Mmm. Well, perhaps I'll tell you tomorrow over coffee. If you're nice to me.

Oh, Great Doctor Griffin, I lay myself at your feet, I'll do anything you wish.

Clarke raised her brows, snorting out an incredulous laugh. This guy was a top-class drama queen, and with every text he sent, she looked more forward to their meeting tomorrow.

It was strange that they'd never met before, him being her best friend's brother. She knew he and Octavia had been alone from the start, him taking care of her while their mother was trying to find work. Him taking care of her after their mother skipped out. But she'd never seen him. Octavia said he didn't want to be seen at school, as to not embarrass her. Clarke had never understood it, but had respected it, and stewed on her curiosity in silence. He didn't have any social media accounts as far as she knew, and he was nowhere to be found on the Internet.

(So yes, she'd tried to stalk him online. Sue her, she'd been dying with curiosity.)

But now she was going to meet him. And she wondered what he was like, and what he looked like.

Isn't it weird that in all these years since O and I met, we haven't ever met? she asked him.

No, not really. I never really wanted O to bring friends to meet me. If she brought friends over, I made myself scarce.

Why?

Because I think I was ashamed of myself, our situation? I can't really remember anymore, but I think I was scared of what people might say about my little sister once they saw who she really was. I don't know.

Sounds like you were trying to protect your sister.

Always. Octavia always comes first to me.

She's lucky to have you for a big brother.

By the time they said goodnight, it was two AM and she was seriously beginning to doubt her sanity. What was she doing, feeling all butterfly-y because of a guy she'd never met? He could be a horrendous asshole in real life for all she knew! He could be ugly as hell!

(Though, in fairness, if he was O's brother, that chance was very slim. Genetics, baby.)

But his voice had been gentle - albeit a bit grumpy - and his texts had been anything but nasty. She hoped they would hit it off as well in person as they did over the phone.

-BC-

She woke up in time for a shower before she had to get going to get her stuff back. Something akin to butterflies was fluttering in her stomach as she got ready, and she frowned at herself. This was Bellamy Blake! Sure, she'd never met the man before, but heard so many things about him. Octavia adored her big brother, who gave up everything just so she could have a normal as possible life. Once O got her full scholarship for Psychology at UCLA - where Clarke was majoring in Art back then -, she persuaded him to follow his own course and he had. According to O, he was a dork, and could be an ass if he didn't trust you. But apparently he had a heart of gold.

Well, she was going to find out at long last. She had to stop herself from dressing up too much (they were exchanging luggage, for Christ's sake), plus, she really couldn't because he had her suitcase. She thanked her lucky stars she always brought an extra set of clothes in her carry-on baggage (for delays and such) and that she hadn't used that set yet. So, she dressed in a pair of black jeans and an ocean blue button up, and, his suitcase in tow, she left her hotel room. A cab took her across town, and the closer she got, the more the butterflies took hold in her stomach. She spent the entire ride berating herself for this foolishness, but the butterflies had already made a comfortable home in her belly, and it didn't feel like they were leaving any time soon.

Once there, she stepped into the familiar café where she was greeted by the staff as a regular. Jasper, one of the most loyal waiters she'd ever met, immediately pressed a coffee in her hand. "Skimmed milk and caramel, just how you like it. Welcome back to LA, baby!"

Clarke laughed, hugging Jasper close before letting him off to do his job. She looked around, taking in the sight of her old hangout, where she, Octavia and Raven had had so many fun Friday nights after a long week of work and study.

"Clarke Griffin!" A voice yelled across the room at her, and Clarke flinched slightly. "I was wondering when you'd deem to show yourself here again. How long is it been, huh?"

Octavia had not changed at all. With her hands on her hips, her face in a fake stern expression, laughter twinkling in her eyes, she still looked like her 18 year old self, just after graduation. "Hey O!" she said.

Octavia laughed, and launched herself at Clarke, enveloping her in a big hug only Octavia could give. Clarke buried her face in O's dark hair, and smiled. Once upon a time, the smell of Octavia Blake's hair would've brought butterflies to her stomach, but those days were over now. It just felt like home. Yes, she may live in Boston now, but LA would always be home. She was going to make sure she could return here someday soon. "I've missed you, girl! You have to tell me how you've been! What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Saving lives and all that..."

"So you're the famous Clarke Griffin." a low voice behind her said, a bit of laughter evident. Octavia squealed and abandoned Clarke in favor of - as Clarke saw when she turned around - a handsome young man with dark hair and cute dimples in his cheeks when he laughed. Octavia had jumped in his arms without a second thought, and the man caught her effortlessly. "Hey, O." she heard him whisper in her hair.

Octavia jumped from him again, and turned to Clarke with a grin on her face. "You've always wanted to meet him, Clarke. This is my brother, Bellamy."

And it clicked suddenly, the entire picture. The light blue suitcase that looked so much like hers, why his voice sounded familiar and why Octavia had been so damn excited. This was Bellamy Blake.

Dear God, help her. He was gorgeous.

Bellamy turned his eyes unto Clarke, and a slow smile spread on his face. "Hi, Clarke."

Clarke felt her face heat up under his intense gaze, but she held her head high and extended her hand. "So we finally in meet in person."

They both smiled, and Clarke was relieved. The ease with which they talked last night was also present here, which was a huge relief. The fear slipped away from her and all that was left was joy. Octavia's brother was amazing. "Wait. You two know each other?"

"Well..." Clarke said, as Bellamy scratched behind his ear with a chuckle. "I took his suitcase, and he took mine. It appears we were on the same flight." Clarke showed O Bellamy's suitcase, and he showed hers.

"O-kay." Octavia said, her sharp eyes flitting between them, her brows furrowing. "That sounds like it came straight from a romantic movie!"

Bellamy and Clarke groaned at the same time. Octavia had always had a highly naive view on love, always dreaming about meeting her Prince Charming and having her happy ever after. Clarke was a bit more realistic (or pessimistic, as O liked to call it). "O, please." Bellamy said, rubbing his forehead.

Octavia was not to be deterred. "What? It is! Boy and girl get on plane, accidentally take each other's luggage, they have to meet and then the rest is history!" She threw both of them a grin. "Well, I gotta run, lots to do. Get to know each other, or something." In a whirlwind of energy and dark hair, she disappeared, leaving Clarke and Bellamy in awkward silence.

"Well, that is my sister for ya." Bellamy said, scratching his ear again.

"She's that way as best friend as well." Clarke muttered. "Well, soldier. You might want your stuff back."

"Lieutenant, actually. And I suppose, so do you." The awkwardly switched suitcases, and stood in more silence. "Okay, I'm not usually so awkward around people. How about that coffee, huh?"

"Please." She needed the coffee desperately, that first cup wasn't enough by a landslide.

They took a seat in one of the back booths, their suitcases next to them, but abandoned. Jasper quickly served them their favourites, and they looked at their cups for a while.

"So, Doctor Griffin. Why are you so protective of people?" he said, leaning on his elbows to get closer to her. His eyes were twinkling, and it caught her a bit off guard.

"W-What?"

"Well, you'd promised to tell me over coffee." he said, leaning back again and looking at her, obviously challenging her.

Clarke giggled, trailing her finger over the rim of her cup slowly. She could swear she saw his eyes widen a bit. "I do believe I said, 'perhaps'."

"Aww, come on, Clarke! I got you your stuff back, and I didn't even touch them!"

"I did," Clarke said promptly, making him frown. "Touch your stuff, I mean. I didn't have anything to sleep in and I was cold, so I used your vest and one of those boy shorts. I'll pay for cleaning, if you want."

Bellamy chuckled. "It's fine. If your stuff had fitted me, I would've used it, too." He leaned in, and she could almost count the freckles on his nose. "I wouldn't have had to sleep naked."

Her mind immediately conjured up images of him naked, and her breath caught. She was so screwed. "Well, I hope it wasn't an inconvenience."

"Oh no, not at all. I always find sleeping in the nude to be very...freeing." His voice had lowered a bit, and a shiver ran down her spine. God, she wanted to take him back to her hotel room and just ravish him completely. "You should try it sometime."

"Maybe I will."

They stared at each other for a long moment, both challenging each other head on. Clarke wasn't even sure what they were challenging, but she wasn't going to back down.

Bellamy spoke first, and to Clarke that felt like a victory; she hadn't backed down first. "So, Clarke Griffin, tell me; how long are you staying here?"

"Couple of days. I had a lot of off days saved up, so I decided to come back here. You?"

Bellamy smiled. "Forever, hopefully." Clarke tilted her head in interest. "I bought an apartment. I was honourably discharged last week."

"Oh. Is that...good?" Clarke asked, not quite sure about the answer. The man couldn't be more than thirty, that seemed a bit young to be leaving the army already.

"Yeah. I mean, after two tours in Iraq and three in Syria, you kinda have enough. I'll miss the good parts, though. But now I can focus on my sister again, help her plan her wedding and renovate this place. I'm going to look for a job in private security, maybe I'll go teach at the Academy. I've had several offers from all sorts of opportunities. But first, I wanna be with my sister."

Clarke couldn't help but smile. Every time Bellamy spoke off Octavia, his entire face lit up with fondness and love. She knew how close the two of them were. No man or woman had ever come between them. Clarke had been the fortunate witness of one of Octavia's boyfriends getting kicked out. He'd implied that he didn't like it that she was spending time with Bellamy, while she could be spending with him. Ten minutes later, he'd been standing outside with all his stuff and a broken nose. Other people in their lives just had to live with the bond between them. "I've always wanted an older brother. Ever since O started telling me stories about you, I've always wanted one."

"I guess she only told you the good things about me." Bellamy said with a self-depreciating smile, which made Clarke frown.

"Hey," she said, leaning over to cover his hand with hers, "From what I've heard, you're an amazing brother. She told me more than once that she wouldn't have made it without you."

He smiled sadly. "Yeah. But without me, maybe our mother wouldn't have left her."

"You think that's your fault?" Clarke said incredulously. She'd heard the story a lot of times, and Octavia had always believed it was her fault, no matter how often Clarke told her it was Aurora's own fault. "Bellamy, she left. You didn't make her leave, it wasn't your fault, okay? You did nothing wrong."

If she had blinked at that moment, she would have missed the way his eyes glittered with tears. But she saw; it was only a moment, but she did. "Thanks, Clarke." he said, and his somber mood was gone again. "So, tell me, what's it like, saving lives every day?" He propped his chin up on his hands, looking at her with great interest.

Clarke laughed, launching into a tale of boring paperwork and going for coffee. "It sucks being the newbie. You have to do all the dirty work." she murmured. "But I had one night shift where the doctor on call had fallen asleep and I conveniently forgot to wake him up. 'I thought you were in the ER, Doctor Johnson, so I took the most urgent ones'." Clarke said in her most innocent voice. Bellamy laughed as he took another sip of his coffee. "There'd been a police shoot out that night. I had to dig bullets out of five police men." She shook her head at the memory. "Weirdly enough, that was one of the best nights." The soft smile he sent her made her heart flutter. "I will not stay there much longer, though. After I've earned enough money, I'll move back here. I want to be with my friends again."

"My apartment's got a spare bedroom. If you want, you can move right in. I can do with a roommate. Ever since my third tour, I can't handle silence very well. It makes me feel uncomfortable." His eyes widened the moment he said it. His freckled cheeks turned red with embarrassment, and bit his lip shyly. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But my offer stands nonetheless."

Clarke didn't quite know how to respond to that. She'd never met anyone with PTSD, and wasn't sure what she could and couldn't say about him being uncomfortable with silences. The medic inside her screamed at her to be gentle and the artist to sate her curiosity. "Mm. Well, my contract will be renewed in two months, I could terminate it and move back here." She bit her lip, the offer sounding very tempting. "You're serious? You want a virtually unknown person living in your house? I could by a psychopath!"

Bellamy laughed. He raked his hands through his hair, making him look so god damned handsome, and she wanted to smack him. As if that would work. "I know my sister has a good sense of people. She trusts you, therefore I do too."

Clarke's eyebrows shot up. "Have you forgotten Atom already?" she said dryly.

The name of the most disastrous boyfriend Octavia had ever had made him flinch. "Okay, so that was an extraordinary lapse of judgement on her part. But she did better with Lincoln, though." he admitted, getting slightly flustered.

"Hey, I don't have anything to do tonight. Wanna go and have dinner?" Clarke blurted out, biting her tongue as soon as she said it. She'd had plans to ask him out, but not like this, not so out of the blue.

A grin appeared on his face. "Are you asking me out, Doctor Griffin?" He leaned forward again, a devilish smile lighting up his face.

"Well, that depends entirely on your answer, Lieutenant Blake."

"Yes, I will go out with you." he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

Clarke grinned. "Then I was, indeed, asking."

"Good."

"So, when are you getting married?" Octavia plopped down beside her brother, grinning the Blake grin like a mad woman.

"O!" Bellamy exclaimed, looking utterly horrified as Clarke groaned, "Octavia!"

She batted her eyelashes innocently. "What?"

"Behave yourself, O, I swear to god." Bellamy said, rubbing his face tiredly.

"Shut up, Bell, you embarrassed me in front Lincoln multiple times." she said indignantly, punching him in the arm. She smiled at his small grunt and then turned to look at Clarke. "My best friend and my brother...why didn't I see this before? You're perfect!"

Bellamy dropped his head in his hands with a groan and Clarke would've given anything for the ground to split open beneath her and swallow her whole. She should've known Octavia would embarrass them both the moment she noticed something off. "Please, O..." Bellamy practically begged.

"Shut up, big brother, I'm just teasing." Octavia said with obvious affection as she ruffled his hair. "But it is amazing, though. For you two to meet like this." Her eyes were fixed on nothing in particular, a dreamy look in her eyes. Clarke shook her head affectionately. Octavia was such a dreamer.

"Well, O, if you must know, I just asked him out." Clarke said, gritting her teeth to force the words out of her. Better to get it over with now than later, when she'd find out on her own.

Octavia grinned like an idiot at that, and she punched Bellamy in the shoulder, who looked mildly affronted at that, but didn't comment. "Great! Where are you going, what are you going to do?"

Bellamy shook his head with a smile. "We didn't get that far, O. You interrupted us, very rudely. I thought I raised you better than that." That earned him another punch, and this time he winced. Octavia's punches could get painful, if she put effort behind it, Clarke had learned. The girl looked small and frail, but boy, can she punch.

Octavia gleamed with happiness. "Okay, then! Let me know how it went, okay? Oh, and Clarke, I get off in an hour, I expect you can get your stuff to my apartment in that time? I don't want to hear it!" she added. Clarke had opened her mouth to protest. "You're my best friend. No way am I letting you sleep in a hotel while I've got a perfectly good guestroom at home. We can do movie night one of these days!" She dashed off again, leaving her keys on the table, and Clarke was left looking surprised but grateful. She wasn't accepting money from her mother at present, and the hotel didn't come cheap.

She swallowed and realized her throat was thick with tears. A warmth covered her hand, and she looked up into Bellamy's worried eyes. "You okay, Princess?"

"Yeah..." she said, clearing her throat and smiling. "It's just been a while since anyone did something for me and not expected anything in return."

Bellamy smiled, squeezing her hand. "I know the feeling. Life's been hard on O and me, and I'm so grateful she turned out the way she did. I think in part, that was because of you, Clarke. You showed her that people could care."

Clarke blushed. "Shut up." she murmured. She knew she'd impacted Octavia's life, but Octavia had made Clarke more independent. Made Clarke see that there was more to life than socialites, dinner parties and stupid Sunday brunches.

"I'm serious. Like it or not, Princess; You're part of the Grounder-family." he said and with that, he finished his coffee and then rose. "I gotta go, I have to meet Nathan in ten minutes. Can I drop you off at O's place?"

"Yeah, thanks!" Clarke gets on her feet, too. "Jazz, I'm leaving! Can you tell O?"

"Sure thing, Clarke! See you around!" Jasper came over to hug her tight. "It's good to have you back." he said gently, squeezing her and then releasing her with a peck on the cheek. "I'll bring Monty over tomorrow, he's finally got himself a decent boyfriend, and he'll sure be wanting to tell you all about it."

"Done deal. See you tomorrow, Jazz." She turned to grab her suit case, but Bellamy was already holding both of them, smirking handsomely and waiting for her to go. "You don't have to - "

"I know." he said and he moved towards the exit without another word. Clarke shook her head with a smile. So, Bellamy Blake was a gentleman too, huh? This was just getting better and better. "C'mon, Princess, clock's ticking!"

Clarke waved at the staff and followed Bellamy out. "So where are we going tonight?" she said, skipping to catch up with him. He smiled as he opened the trunk to a shiny new black Toyota, lifting the two suitcases in with ease.

"Well, I know this small Italian restaurant just few blocks from O's apartment. I thought it'd be perfect." He slammed the trunk shut and gave her a gorgeous smile. "C'mon, I'll take you home." He walked to the passenger side to open the door for her - seriously, was this guy born in the last century? - and waited patiently for her to get in.

He drove her to her hotel first, where she checked out quickly, did a sweep of her hotel room to make sure she didn't leave anything behind, and then drove her to O's place.

The ride was only ten minutes, and they sat in a comfortable silence. Clarke had her window rolled down and was enjoying the warmth of the Californian air, the sun on her face and the wind blowing through her hair. Every now and then she saw him shoot her a glance, but she didn't say anything nor did he speak up. It didn't matter much. They'd go on a date tonight and they'd have enough time to talk.

At Octavia's apartment building, they laughed about the fact that they had to check which suitcase was hers, and she rolled her eyes because he insisted on carrying it up to Octavia's apartment and open the door for her, too.

"Welcome home, Princess." he said with a wink, placing her suitcase in the middle of the room. "I really have to go now, or Nathan is going to kill me, but I'll pick you up at six thirty, okay?"

Clarke nodded, suppressing the excitement that was bubbling inside of her. It was strange that she felt so excited for a date with a man she literally just met, but somehow she knew this could be the best thing to ever happen to her. "See you." she said, clenching her hand to suppress the urge to kiss him. He didn't seem to want to move either, staring at her, transfixed. "What?" she murmured after a while.

"Nothing." he said, shaking his head and blinking a couple of times. "Sorry, I - " He stopped again, stared and then got an expression on his face that clearly said 'fuck it'. Next thing she knew, she was pressed against the front door, his lips soft and warm on hers. Clarke didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck, sinking into the kiss without thinking.

Warmth spread through her body from every point he was touching her. One hand was in her hair, the other on her waist, and he was a brilliant kisser.

It was over way too soon, before she had any time to fully appreciate him. She was out of breath when he pulled away, and her fingers rubbed together, remembering how his hair had felt in her hands. "That - I - " she stuttered, unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry." he said quickly, looking quite upset with himself. "I shouldn't have done that, we've only just met, and I want to do this right. Even though, I'd very much enjoy to do it again." he added in a low voice.

Clarke laughed breathlessly. "Well, I don't know what that was, but it sure as hell wasn't wrong." His face lit up a little at that, shooting her a happy smile as he scratched bashfully behind his ear.

"I didn't think so, either. But still, I should've waited until at least after the date."

Clarke shrugged, not able to bring herself to care, not with her lips still tingling and her heart racing like mad. This man was sweeping her off her feet like no one had ever done before, and she was enjoying it immensely. "Well, Lieutenant Blake, I will see you at six thirty sharp." she said teasingly.

He saluted her - the dork - and threw her a smile. "Yes, ma'am!"

With that he left and Clarke closed the door behind him.

Butterflies were storming her stomach by the dozen now and she was longing to sit down for a moment to calm herself down. Her face was burning, her heart beating out of her chert, and shit she was screwed. Why in the world would she fall for this guy so fast? How did it even happen?

She let herself drop on the couch, and it was so soft that the exhaustion of the last two days hit her all at once; she was gone in under a minute.

-BC-

She woke with a start when someone dropped down on the couch next to her and began babbling to her about something that she couldn't follow with her sleepy mind. Clarke, her heart in her throat, rubbed her eyes out and glanced sideways, finding Octavia sitting next to her, talking animatedly about someone named Lincoln.

Clarke let her talk for a minute, hoping she'd catch up, but it was like she was speaking Chinese, because her sleep-addled brain didn't seem to be able to process. "Octavia!" She said, grabbing the girl's arm, and Octavia stopped talking, surprised. "Calm down. I was asleep and I don't understand what you're saying."

Octavia laughed, looking bashful (she knew that look, Bellamy had looked at her like that). "Sorry. I thought you were just resting or something, wasn't really paying attention." She put an arm around Clarke. "I was talking about Lincoln. We haven't had the time to really talk about him, other than that he makes me happy. So I was telling you that he's an actor, and he is just the sweetest, gentlest soul I've ever met."

Clarke grinned, ready to have girl-talk again. She really missed that between all the sexist men and the dimwitted administration lady at her hospital. When they talked to her, they'd say she was way too pretty to be a doctor and should find husband first. She'd lain a couple of punches on some of the nurses (whom she mostly outranked), but it didn't help. She really needed to get out of the small town life. She let Octavia rave on about Lincoln, and the more she heard about him, the more she knew that Lincoln was really good for her. She told the funniest stories, the best one being about laser gaming with his family, and Anya, his adoptive sister and teammate, who had screamed bloody murder when he'd defected to Octavia's team mid-game.

They spent the day on the couch, eating popcorn for lunch and giggling like they used to, and it was as if nothing had changed, as if Clarke had never left. It made Clarke wish she'd never left.

"O, I'm thinking about moving back here." she said, as they almost finished the season finale of Game of Thrones. She had lain her head on O's lap halfway through, feeling tired.

With a gasp, Octavia grabbed the remote to pause Tyrion in the middle of strangling his previous lover. "You should!" she said, her legs immediately bouncing up and down excitedly, bobbing Clarke's head almost violently. "We could have so much fun!"

"Yeah." Clarke said, moving her head from Octavia's lap to be safe, rubbing the back of her head softly. "Your brother offered to be my roommate. He said he had a room available anytime."

Octavia's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, a small smile playing on her lips. "Did he now?" She chuckled. "The dork. Well, he's been looking for a roommate. But won't it be weird? The two of you, just starting to date and already living together?"

Clarke shrugged. If she was completely honest, she hadn't thought of that yet. It would be weird. But on the other hand, it would save them a lot of time and money if their relationship did work.

Images of a future flashed through her mind, unbidden, of her and Bellamy, lying in a sun filled bedroom, wrapped in each other's arms as a small his hair and her eyes burst into the room. She pushed them away with no small amount of irritation. What was she doing, fantasizing a future with a man she'd just met?

"Maybe. We'll see. For now I want to focus on tonight." The date. The date. The date with Bellamy Blake.

Octavia jumped from the couch, clapping her hands excitedly. "Please let me dress you! I want you to look perfect for my brother – well, you always look perfect, but I wanna blow him away!" Without waiting for permission, she dashed over to Clarke's suitcase, which she hadn't unpacked yet, and started pulling random articles of clothing out, muttering to herself. Clarke looked on with amusement. Octavia always got so excited when people had dates; she always wanted to dress them. Clarke had always let her – Octavia had an amazing sense of style. "Nope, these won't do at all!" Octavia exclaimed after five minutes of tearing through Clarke's clothing and generally making a mess of it. She jumped up, leaving the suitcase behind, and ran to her own bedroom. "Seriously, have I taught you nothing about fashion?!" Clarke followed Octavia grudgingly. Okay, so this was a downside. Clarke's own sense of style wasn't to O's liking most of the time and on dates, Clarke always ended up wearing something of Octavia's.

(Which meant her boobs were pushed up to a ridiculous size, because Clarke had bigger boobs than O did and yeah. She'd had a couple of hot hook-ups because of it, so she wasn't about to complain. Much.)

Octavia pulled one tight dress after another out of her closet, throwing them on the bed. "Sit down on the bed and pull on what I give you." Octavia commanded carelessly. Clarke shook her head with a grin, sitting down and waiting for Octavia to finish ransacking her closet. "Okay, so I have a black one, a red one, a white one, and this purple one that I think will rock his world."

"Can't I wear pants?"

Octavia shot her a stern look. "No way. Pants look hot on you, but you gotta go seriously smokin' tonight." She threw the red dress at her and crossed her arms. "Try it on."

With another eye roll, she started to undress her underwear and pulled on the dress under O's watchful eye. The mirror showed a harassed looking woman, who looked stunning an way too seductive in the red dress, and Clarke would've gone for it, weren't it for the fact that the neckline was so steep it was as indecent as wearing nothing. And it was way too tight. "Nope." Octavia and Clarke said at the same time, and Clarke switched dresses with a grin. "You looked indecently hot, though. Too bad your rack is too large for that neckline." Octavia said, winking with a wicked grin.

Clarke chuckled as she slid in the black one. Before she'd even looked in the mirror, she knew it wasn't it. Octavia was taller than her, so this dress, coming to just above her knees, ended up below hers and when she looked in the mirror she scoffed. "No, thanks. I'd rather not go outside looking like a nun."

Octavia nodded in agreement, and soon, Clarke was dressed in the white one. She had to admit it looked pretty good on her. "You look so cute and hot. But still, try the purple one. Dark colours usually look pretty sensual on you."

Clarke obliged, putting on the purple dress. It felt incredibly soft and stretchy, fitting around her body parts perfectly. She walked over to the mirror, daring to glance at herself. Her mouth dropped and Octavia was grinning excitedly behind her, her eyes large and shining. "Yes!" they said in unison.

Clarke stared at herself in the reflection. She looked amazing. The dress reached to mid-thigh and made her legs look longer than ever. It was pushing her boobs up to a level that was just appropriate enough. The fabric hugged her body perfectly, and the colour complimented her skin tone and brought out the blue of her eyes. She had never seen herself look so gorgeous. "Wow." she whispered.

"My brother is going to lose his mind when he sees you." Octavia said excitedly. "Come on, let me do your hair, we've got about ten minutes before he's at the door waiting for you." She brought Clarke over to her vanity, sitting her down in front of the mirror and getting to work with curling irons and lots of hairspray. Five minutes later, she looked like even more stunning. She applied some dark lipstick to give herself a little more sensuality than she already had, and she was ready for her date.

Octavia fussed some more over her, trying to match some necklaces to the dress, but coming up empty, which left her a little bit defeated. "I think it's better without one, actually." Clarke said soothingly. Octavia glared at her jewellery as if it was their fault that the dress was a mismatch for any of the necklaces.

"They've just never let me down before." she said in a slightly offended tone.

Clarke chuckled, pulling Octavia to her feet. "Look at this!" she said, gesturing at her cleavage. "Do you honestly think a necklace would make this look better?" She grabbed her boobs for good measure, pushing them up even more to emphasize her point. Octavia laughed, rubbing her eyes as if she was tired.

"You're right." A knock on the door pulled them both back to reality and Clarke's eyes widened at Octavia. "What?" Clarke shrugged, butterflies suddenly invading her stomach by the hundreds. "Oh my god, is Clarke Griffin nervous?"

Growling, Clarke shoved her friend to the door. "Shut up, I've been nervous."

"Clarke, you had to do a forty-minute appliance speech on why you should be accepted to the best Medical School in the country, got accepted and then declined to follow your art passion. And then had to tell your mother. You were not even slightly nervous for that, so why are you for this?"

"O, Clarke, I can hear you two on the other side of the door, open up!" Bellamy shouted, sounding vaguely amused. Mortified, Clarke shot back into the bedroom to look at herself one more time. In the other room, she heard O opening the door and inviting Bellamy in. "Hey, O. Where's Clarke?"

"She's just finishing up. One sec." Octavia appeared in the bedroom doorway, looking horrified. "Shoes." she whispered, and Clarke's eyes widened once again. Looking down at her feet, she finally noticed that she was not wearing shoes. And she had only brought her sneakers.

"What do I do?" Clarke whispered sharply, panic gripping her by the throat violently. She could not wear sneakers under this dress.

In an instant, Octavia had dashed across the room, dived into her closet and started throwing shoes over her shoulder. Clarke pressed herself against the wall to avoid getting hit by 8 inch heels. "Here!" Octavia shouted, and Clarke cringed. Bellamy was on the other side of the door and could probably hear them.

"O, is everything alright?" Bellamy said, way too close to the door for comfort. Clarke panicked again. This was not how she wanted him to see her in this dress for the first time.

"Yes!" Octavia shouted. "I just tripped! Don't you dare come in!" She thrust some violent red, 5 inch heels at Clarke and motioned for her to put them on quickly. Sliding into them, she was relieved to feel that they fit perfectly and were actually comfy. Octavia gave her a once-over and nodded with an approving smile. "You look gorgeous. The red just made the dress stand out more. Go get 'em, girl."

Clarke smirked, and suddenly all her nerves had disappeared. The man on the other side of this door had already kissed her and expressed his deepest interests in doing it again. She got this.

She pulled the door open.

And was met with the most gorgeous sight she'd ever laid her eyes upon.

Bellamy Blake in a suit should be illegal. He was wearing a dark blue one, with red tie to match her shoes (had Octavia planned that after she'd seen her brother's choice of attire?) and a crisp white button-up. The suit fit him perfectly and with his hair purposefully messed up in curls like that, he looked simultaneously hot and cute. A feat not easily accomplished by most men.

In turn, he was staring at her as well, a little slack-jawed and his eyes wide. Only after Octavia had pushed past Clarke and had poked him in the ribs, did he close his mouth and smile. "Wow. You look stunning, Clarke." He brought his hand from behind his back and offered her a beautiful red rose. "Just like a princess." he teased with a grin as she accepted the rose. She chuckled.

"So, where are we going, Lieutenant?"

"Well, milady, I thought I'd keep it as a surprise until we get there." he said gallantly, waiting for her to put the rose in a champagne glass and then holding his arm out for her. "Shall we?"

"After you." she said, almost giggling as he led her to the door.

"Bye, O!"

"Hey!" Octavia yelled, grabbing the door to hold it from closing behind them. "You get her back by eleven, you hear?" The twinkling in her eyes said that she didn't mean that at all, so both Clarke and Bellamy laughed.

Clarke rolled her eyes, mock-pouting at O. "But moooooom...!" she whined, stomping her foot slightly. Next to her, she felt Bellamy snort in a way not befitting a gentleman.

"Have fun, you two." Octavia said with an extra wink at Clarke. "Text me if and/or when you get home, okay?"

Clarke waved at O and then let Bellamy lead her outside into the warm evening air. The city around them was abuzz with life; people heading home for the evening, cars and taxis honking to get moving, and young and old people alike, readying themselves for a long night out. She breathed in the humid city air and realized again how much she'd missed the big city. When she felt his eyes burning a hole in her head, she turned to look at him and noticed that they had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "What?" she asked, with a curious smile.

Bellamy broke into a sweet smile. "Nothing. You just...looked so peaceful for a moment. It was beautiful to see."

Clarke couldn't help the blush. "C'mon, soldier. I'm hungry."

"Yes, milady." he said with a slight bow of his head and a wicked grin playing at his lips. He took her to her car, even helped her get in and then drove west.

Soon enough, she had a pretty good idea where they were going. She'd been on this road often in her LA days, and she felt herself getting excited. This road lead directly to the beach and she was more than ready to go there. She loved the beach. It made her feel free, liberated of all of her 'musts' and 'mustn'ts' and her obligation to everyone. On the beach she only had an obligation to herself; to be free.

He must've felt her excitement, because he chuckled. "O told me you love the beach, and hadn't seen it in almost five years. So I thought, 'there's a lovely restaurant there, why not go to the beach?'."

The grin that spread on her face felt like it was splitting her face in half, but she didn't care. Without a second thought, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you." she said. He smiled sheepishly, and she could've sworn there was a slight blush on his cheeks.

This date was already off on a tremendous start.

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the restaurant parking lot. The place looked cute, half standing on the beach and the terrace was decorated with fairy lights so that in the falling darkness, it looked magical. Bellamy got out of the car and was at her side, holding the door open, before she had the time to even unbuckle her seatbelt. He was really pressed on doing this thing right, and she had to admit; she was impressed. "You're doing rather well, Mr Blake." she said with a smile.

A blush crept onto his cheeks, but he smirked and crowded her against the side of the car. "Thank you, Miss Griffin." His nose bumped against hers sweetly. "I've been wanting to kiss you all the way over here." he whispered, his warm breath brushing past her cheek.

"Then do it." Clarke whispered, wrapping her fingers in his collar to pull him closer. "I want you to."

Bellamy leaned in, his lips so close she could almost feel it. She closed her eyes, anticipating his warm lips – and then he pulled away, looking slightly turned on but determined. "Later. I want to do this right."

Clarke rolled her eyes, smacking his chest. "Damn you. Now I'm all hot and bothered." She walked away from him to the restaurant, making sure to give her hips an extra sway to lure him in.

"I really wish you wouldn't say stuff like that." Bellamy growled as he caught up with her, his arm around her waist again. "I'm trying to do the right thing by you." He sounded especially tortured, and Clarke took pity.

"It's fine. I know you do. I'll try and contain myself, but hey, with you looking like that – " she gestured at his suit and clacked her tongue " – well, it's gonna be hard."

Bellamy's dark eyes darkened more, and Clarke, feeling rather smug, walked on to the restaurant. Behind her, she heard Bellamy groan and then follow her. "You're going to be the death of me." he murmured, as he caught up with her at the maître d'. He wrapped his arm around her waist for the third time, and now she intended to stay there.

"Welcome, sir and madam. How can I help you?"

"I made reservations. Blake, for two?" Bellamy said, and the maître d' nodded, motioning for them to follow him into the restaurant. It was a small, but ambient place, with a few couples sitting here and there. The lights were warm, dimmed to a romantic level, and Clarke smiled. She quite liked it here, and she put her hand in his elbow.

"I like it here." she whispered to him. Bellamy smiled, placing his hand over his and stroking the back of it with his thumb. Their table was situated at the far end, near the glass wall, and as they sat down Clarke noticed she had perfect view of the beach and the ocean ahead of that. With a contented sigh, she slumped a little in her seat, relaxing as she took it all in. The ocean, the beach, the grass outside bending slightly to accommodate the wind, the warmth of the restaurant, the lovely smells of the food and him. Bellamy sat across from her, smiling as he looked at her, staying silent while she took it all in. "Okay, Blake, I'm really impressed." she said at last, sitting up and leaning in a bit; craving his closeness. Whatever her bravado she put up a couple of minutes ago, she really was having a hard time not dragging him to the restroom and having her wicked way with him.

Bellamy chuckled, accepting the menu that the waiter handed him. "I'm glad. And we haven't even gotten to the food yet. Or dessert." He said it in such a way that made Clarke shiver; sin dripped from his every syllable. She wondered if he was serious, or if he was teasing. The way she'd been acting earlier, the latter may very well be.

To hide her blush, she hid herself behind her menu, checking out the options. It wasn't a very large menu, but there was something for everyone's liking; fish, meat and vegetarian. She sneaked a glance at the dessert menu, and already spotted what she wanted if that was part of the plan; she hadn't had a real apple pie in months. "So, what's good here?" she said, forcing her voice to sound casual and airy – as if his words hadn't affected her.

If he noticed anything, he did not let it show. "I don't know. The duck sounds pretty tasty. I'm not much of a fish person, so I can't help you on that..."

"Oh, me neither." Clarke said, shaking her head at the mere thought of fish. "I mean, I like the sea and I like fish. But not to eat. Ew."

Bellamy looked slightly surprised, but hid it quickly beneath a seemingly schooled mask of neutrality. "Yeah, I hear ya."

"Does it surprise you?" Clarke asked, cocking her head at him inquisitively.

Bellamy turned slightly red at being caught. "Yes. No. Yes. Well, it's more like...you don't fit the image I'd formed of you from the stories O told me. I had imagined this princess who had everything her heart desired, because of your parents, you know? I know it's horrible – " he added, before she could interrupt. " – but people have their images. Belonging to that image of you, was you liking expensive stuff like the quality fish they serve here. And I'm glad you don't fit my image, by the way." He leaned over to take her hand. "You're much more interesting."

Clarke smiled, wiping her hands on her dress. She hadn't realized she was sweating a bit. A nervous tick she'd developed sometime during college. O may claim she'd never gotten nervous, but Clarke was just extremely good at hiding it. Hiding it, however, resulted in sweaty palms and nervous break downs at 2am; not so good.

They made up their mind and ordered, Bellamy ordering a bottle of wine that made Clarke roll her eyes and chuckle at the same time; her parents hated that brand, and Clarke happened to love it. As they waited for their meal, Clarke told him more about her life in Eaton Rapids, where she currently lived and worked. She told him about the shrink she'd been seeing, about the anxiety attacks she had sometimes, and while she poured her deepest secrets into him – those she had never shared with anyone before – he listened carefully, and seemed to understand exactly what she meant if she fell silent or couldn't figure out the right words.

He made her feel cherished, listened to, and that was a feeling she hadn't felt since moving to Eaton Rapids.

Their food arrived shortly after he'd launched into his story, and she listened to him struggle to tell her how he'd lost friends, soldiers, in the war. She listened to the bitterness that sometimes sneaked into his words, watched the hardness that occupied his eyes when he talked about death – civilian and military alike. And somehow she understood too. He'd seen too much for his age, done too much. It was haunting him.

"Many people will tell you that serving has opened their eyes, made them see how important it is to keep fighting. But I won't. Serving has opened my eyes alright. It has opened my eyes to all the dozens of unnecessary losses we suffer, both as Americans and the human race in its entirety. We go out there, to countries vastly different than ours, and claim to bring peace. Instead we bring more chaos, more death upon the very people we are trying to save." He shook his head. "I couldn't stay there anymore." His eyes were glassy, misted over with unshed tears that lingered beneath the surface, threatening to spill out at any moment. "I thought I was doing right at the beginning. But in the end, when they asked me to drop a bomb on a village full of innocent children, just because they suspected some rebels might've been there...I couldn't do it anymore. I faked a system failure, and I asked for resignation. I had 'done so much for my country' after five tours, that they let me go; honorary discharge." He swallowed and stopped talking, unable to go on. He seemed, for a moment, lost in his mind, struggling with something unspoken, and Clarke understood.

She leaned over to take his hand, and she felt it trembling even as he was holding his fork. "I can't tell you that it's okay, that you're okay. Because I can see that it's not, that you're not. You're struggling. But Bell, everything you did, you did for Octavia. That I am sure of. You enlisted because you thought it would protect her even when she didn't need your protection anymore, not really." Bellamy dropped his fork and turned his hand to take hers. His grip was strong, but the tremors in his hand were getting worse. She felt a hot tear drop on the back of her hand. "That's the kind of man you are, Bellamy. Someone who'd do anything to protect his sister. And you have to believe me that that makes you a good man."

He stayed quiet for a while, staring at the last of his fries. Clarke watched him as his eyes changed shape and colour as he processed this. "You really think so?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

"No." Clarke said, seriously, before pinching his hand. "I really know so."

Bellamy broke into a small grin, and some of his turmoil disappeared from his eyes. "Thank you, Clarke." he murmured, lifting their hands to his lips so he could kiss her hand. "Now, how about we more to a more happier subject, hmm?" he said, after a deep sigh that seemed to strengthen him. "Tell me about your college adventures with O and Raven. O refuses to tell me everything, but I'm sure you have more stories to tell."

Clarke grinned, and felt the weight of their previous conversation slip off her; the subject wasn't closed, not by a long shot. But they'd get to it, when they'd get to it. They had time. "Oh my God, Bellamy, we were awful. I honestly don't know how any of them put up with us. I actually think Monty still gets nervous attacks when he thinks of us." Clarke launched into the story of college, bathing the rest of their meal in a happier mood, with a lot of laughter and almost choking on their wine every now and then. She told them of how O, Raven and her had once crashed an Arts Sorority party, because Clarke had been dying to go, only to discover that the art students had the worst taste in music ever. They'd plugged in their own iPods and turned the party into a wild, almost festival that had to be broken up by the campus police.

She told him of her bachelor essay, that she'd written almost to completion within a month of starting it, and then completely forgetting about it until three days before it was due, and having to stay up three days and nights to get it finished in time.

(She got an A, by the way.)

When their table was cleared away, and their laughter died out, they sat staring at each other, their fingers tangled next to the candle on the table. Clarke didn't feel the need for words, it felt like they were having entire conversations just with their eyes and fingers.

However, Clarke realized that, when the waiter showed up to ask if they fancied dessert, she didn't know his plan. She looked at him expectantly, half-hoping to get her apple pie, and half-hoping that he'd take her home and then take her.

"Yeah," he said, a mischievous smile on his face, as if he knew what was going on in her head, "we'll have dessert."

Delighted, Clarke ordered her apple pie and Bellamy ordered a chocolate-strawberry cheesecake. The waiter left to tend to their orders, and Clarke leaned in a bit, curiosity taking the better of her. "So what's the plan for the evening?"

"Well," he said, taking her hand again. "I was thinking, after dessert, we could take a walk along the shore, if you like." She nodded eagerly. "Good, I was hoping you'd agree. After that...well, who knows?" He winked, licking his lips tentatively. Clarke leaned back in her chair, distancing herself for a moment, because this man was too inviting, too alluring.

"Who knows, indeed?" she said, throwing him a sultry look. What he could do, she could match easily.

Discomfort crossed his face as he shifted in his seat and Clarke laughed, she couldn't help herself. Bellamy stuck out his tongue at her, like a petulant child, which made her laugh more, harder. His arms crossed, Bellamy watched her, his brows raised, as she laughed her ass off at his expense. She noticed the corner of his mouth trembling. "Come on, Bell!" she said, nudging him with her foot. "I know you want to."

He let out a short, but very happy laugh and shook his head. "You're an idiot." he said, nudging back.

"So are you." she bounced back. "Tell me something I don't know."

He leaned in close, his eyes suddenly swirling with desire. "I really want you right now."

"Knew that." she said, trying to pass it off as a casual fact, but she noticed the tremor in her voice, the small hitch that gave her away, that he'd turned her on again.

"Did you, now?" he whispered. The tension between them crackled and sparked, and Clarke could just feel her self-control slipping away inch by inch; soon, she wouldn't be able to bear it.

Her saving came in the form of the waiter, placing their desserts in front of them and breaking the overheated tension between them. They both cleared their throats – Clarke could feel her cheeks burn and was absolutely certain she saw his go red as well – and thanked the waiter, before diving into their delicious dessert. Something sparked up each time their eyes locked, but it stayed reasonably at bay, thank God. When he offered her a bit from his cheesecake, Clarke nearly refused in fear of jumping him right there. But the chocolate looked good and she did love cheesecake, so she leaned forward to accept his offer. He placed the fork right in front of her mouth, their eyes locked, and Clarke stared right at him, heat coiling in the pit of her stomach, as she wrapped her lips around the fork and took the piece of cake in her mouth.

The taste made all thoughts of him fade to the background. The strawberry and the chocolate blended together deliciously on her tongue, melting slowly, and she let out a small moan. "That is good." she admitted.

With an agreeing grin, he then stuck his fork in her pie, stealing a bite for himself. Clarke gasped dramatically, pulling her plate closer to her and shooting him a quasi-affronted look. "How dare you?" she asked in her best insulted voice. Bellamy laughed, and in that mood they finished their desserts.

Bellamy absolutely, point-blank refused to let her pay for anything, even though the bill was quite large. "This is a date, and no matter who asked who, I planned it so I'm paying. You can pay next time, when you've planned it." he said, as they strolled to the beach together.

She'd planned to continue nagging him about it, but his words made her stop. "Next time?" she said, leaning against the wooden fence that served as boundary between dry land and beach. "I didn't ask." she added in a teasing tone.

Bellamy stepped closer, his hands slowly coming up to take hers. "That's because it's my turn this time." he whispered. He looked her dead in the eye. "Will you go out with me again?"

Clarke smiled, and couldn't contain herself any longer. She tugged him towards her, letting him fall against her softly, and kissed him passionately.

It was as good as earlier that day. His lips were soft, yet determined in their movements; letting her know that he knew what he wanted, but that she could pull back any time she wanted to.

She didn't want to; there was no doubt. Wrapping her arms around his neck she got on her tiptoes so that he didn't have to lean down uncomfortably. His arms went around her waist, holding her tightly against him, making her feel safe and wanted. He pulled back a few moments later, panting slightly, his lips red from her lipstick. She chuckled and began to wipe it away, but he stopped her. "Leave it," he said in a soft, low voice, "Let everyone know I'm yours now."

Clarke rolled her eyes at his dramatics, but secretly, she liked it. "I've been wanting to do that all evening." she said, running a finger down his cheek softly, her other hand playing with the soft, curly hair at the nape of his neck. He sighed and leaned into her touch.

"Me too. You were driving me mad."

"You were driving me mad."

Bellamy smiled, turning his head to kiss her palm. "Let's walk for a while."

They did, under a clear sky full of stars. The moon, half-full tonight, lit their path ahead of them, and they walked hand in hand, in pure silence. Clarke closed her eyes every now and then, listening to the rush of the sea, the wind whipping through her hair, his soft breathing beside her.

After a good fifteen minutes, Clarke stopped and smiled at him. "Let's go home." she whispered, squeezing his hand and moving her body close to his. His eyes darkened slightly, and she knew that he knew what she wanted.

With a smile, Bellamy nodded. "Let's go home.

-BC-

They made love that night. It was clumsy, and a little messy – she had a bump on her head from where she hit the headboard in the first five minutes to show for that – but perfect. Once they'd found their rhythm, they were perfect.

He made her breakfast, and they spend the day in their pyjamas, watching Daredevil on Netflix and having pillow fights that ended up in the hottest make-out sessions, learning all they could about each other in the short amount of time they had.

-BC-

And when Clarke and Bellamy said goodbye five days later, she promised him that she would come back as soon as she could. She'd take him up on his offer to share his apartment, although she knew she was never going to move in to the spare bedroom. With tears in her eyes, she waved at him until he disappeared, and then prepared herself on the journey to what she now referred to as her temporary home.

Home is what she was leaving behind.

-BC-

Five months later she was home.

She and Bellamy had been moving her stuff in and around all day, trying to find the perfect spot for her easel, her paintings, her medical books, her DVDs and CDs (he laughed at her, briefly, for being so old-fashioned, but she rebounded with his black-and-white mute film collection he had on the top shelf of his DVD cabinet). Her favourite lounge chair (blue, like her eyes) replaced his uncomfortable, ugly black chair in the living room, and her favourite mug found a place next to his.

Octavia came by at the end of the day with pizza and movies, Lincoln, Monty, Miller, Jasper and Harper in tow. Everyone congratulated them on their move and their apartment, and Clarke and Bellamy spend the rest of the day wrapped in each other's arms on the couch (a new one, because neither hers nor his was worth it anymore), watching the movies, talking with their friends and each other.

"Clarke?" Octavia asked, when Monty, Miller, Jasper and Harper had gone, and it was just the four of them. "Who did that?" She pointed at the painting that hung beside the door, above the cabinet that now housed both their key rings, and Clarke smiled.

"I did." she said, and she felt Bellamy nod behind her. O let out a low whistle of respect. "About four months ago? Remember how you and Lincoln made that picture of me and Bell on the fire escape that last night? I wanted to paint it so bad, it just itched in my fingers and I couldn't focus on anything else until I had. I send it to Bellamy when it was finished, and when I came home today, I found it hanging on the wall." She leaned her head against his shoulder so she could look up at him, and found him watching her with such love it almost made her melt.

O made a soft noise. "That's so sweet. Also gross, because that's my brother. But still, so sweet." She rose, pulling Lincoln to his feet with ease – seriously, the girl was tiny, how could she pull that huge bulk of muscle up so easily? – and patted Bellamy on the head. "We'll leave you two alone then. Love you, big brother. Bye, Clarke!"

They yelled their byes at them, and then focused entirely on each other again. Bellamy was stroking her hair softly, looking at her in wonder, as if he couldn't believe she was truly here. "Welcome home, Clarke." he whispered.

Clarke snuggled in his arms, nuzzling against his neck. "It's good to be home." she murmured.

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