Bellamy looks positively radiant on the field, Clarke thinks, as she watches him passing the ball from one leg to the other.
He's coaching the kids' team on the regular weekends, which mostly means he's running along the sidelines in his dark sweats and henley, and impromptu motivational speeches here and there.
This weekend is about charity, though, organized by her mother's boyfriend/fiancé.
After an hour and a half, his hair is curling to every possible direction from the wind and sweat, and his jersey's sticking to his chest - in a rather distracting way - but that combined with his carefree smile is definitely a good look on him.
If it weren't for the doctor's orders, she'd be on the field, right next to him. (Probably, on the opposing team with John Murphy because Bellamy is a little bit fussy recently.)
Regardless, to say Clarke is excited is an understatement.
They are in the final stretch of the extra time and Bellamy has the ball back.
She is on her feet, palms in the air and curled in a way at her mouth to carry her voice louder. Her mother next to her has just snapped a few photos for them for later. Her focus is hardly back on the field and then it's over.
She turns to grin at Abby before easing her way back to her seat with a happy sigh.
"Yes, baby," her hands finding their way against that tiny bump on her stomach. "Daddy just won this game for the team."
xx
