Bellamy and Clarke had never really been friends.
He'd gone to her school, two years her senior, so in a small town you'd inevitably end up talking at least a little. But her being friends with his sister, Octavia, meant that they would also acknowledge each other in the halls and exchange brief words whenever she was over at their house. He was cute, Clarke thought to herself once or twice, but she would never admit it because he was Octavia's brother. Besides, it wasn't like he'd ever even noticed her.
Until the school dance freshman year.
Clarke had never been much of a girly-girl, but Brian, a cute guy from her AP Math class had asked her, after a few months of almost-flirting, so in a fit of nerves she called Octavia and asked if she could have some help with fashion advice.
So here she was, sitting in Octavia's bedroom going over her friend's abundant wardrobe and getting more and more despairing with each one she tried on.
"None of these work, V." She said after the seventh dress, crumpling to a heap on the floor. "Maybe the dance was a mistake. I mean, what if I mess it all up? What if Brian turns out to be a total jerk? We haven't even talked, really."
"Nuh-uh." Octavia said, narrowing her eyes. "This is not going to happen. You are going to have your one night of fun with a cute boy, okay? Hey -" This as Clarke was rolling her eyes - "just try one more, okay? I have the perfect one." She disappeared almost entirely into the closet, and emerged a minute later, holding up her find in triumph. Clarke let out a little gasp.
"Oh, my god - it's, beautiful, V. I couldn't -"
"Try it on." Octavia's tone was strictly no-nonsense, so Clarke gave in and stepped into the bathroom to change. As she slipped into it, she could feel the light fabric brush against her skin, and to her astonishment it fit like a glove. She turned to face herself in the mirror skeptically. The pale pink fabric fell in waves over her curves, clinging in all the right places. She finally let a smile out. Maybe the dance wouldn't be a complete disaster, after all.
"Come on, open up!" Octavia was banging on the door, and Clarke reached over to unlock it. As Octavia stepped in, her jaw dropped open. "Oh my god, Clarke! Was I right or was I right? You're a knockout." Clarke's lips pulled upwards of their own volition.
"Okay, fine, so you were right."
"'Course I was." Octavia said matter-of-factly. "Okay, you get your makeup finished while I go change into my dress, and then we'll head out. Bell!" This last part was yelled down the carpeted stairs.
"What?" The irritated response floated back.
"We'll be ready in five!"
Clarke could hear the snort from a floor away. "Whatever you say, O. I'll be ready when you are."
"Bellamy's coming to the dance?" Clarke asked her friend, surprised. To put it gently, the words school spirit didn't exactly fit into the older boy's vocabulary.
"Just to watch over us." Octavia rolled her eyes. "Mom's working late at the shop tonight, so she asked him to come." She ducked into her room, and Clarke stared at the dress for another second before getting started on her makeup - ugh. Why, why, why?
It took ten minutes and one eye-stab with the mascara wand before she finally got it right. Octavia was waiting outside when she stepped out - she was wearing a dark purple number that, as usual, was guaranteed to have boys fawning over her all night long.
"Ready to go knock Brian's socks off?" She asked with a mischevious grin, pulling Clarke down the stairs with her.
"Yeah, yeah." Clarke said, but she had a feeling her wry grin had turned into a dopey smile. Fine, she was excited.
"You ready to go, Bell?" Octavia asked when they rounded the corner to where her brother was sitting on the couch.
"I was ready to go -" He glanced up and broke off suddenly, staring at Clarke. Something flickered through his expression, before he coughed and glanced down again. "I was ready to go an hour ago." He finished, getting up from the couch and grabbing a set of keys.
Clarke didn't know why, but she couldn't stop thinking about the way he'd looked at her.
When they got to the dance, it was crowded and loud, the lights dim and the heat rising up like a wave to meet them. Clarke almost turned and ran out the way she came in, but then Brian was there, offering her his arm with a shy smile, and her window of opportunity was gone.
They danced a few times, and then Octavia ran over to gush about her newest fling, and Brian excused himself to go grab some punch for them all.
Clarke settled her chin into her palm, and listened to Octavia while tapping her feet under the chair and smiling to herself.
"And he was just so sweet, you know? Not like some of the other..." Octavia drifted off suddenly, a funny expression coming over her face as she looked at something over Clarke's shoulder.
"What is it?" Clarke turned, just as Octavia made a noise in her throat, like maybe she shouldn't - and the words died in her throat. Brian was standing just a few feet away, locked in an embrace with another girl.
Clarke just sat there for a few seconds, and when the two broke apart Brian caught her eye. He murmered something to the girl beside him, and then came over to her.
"I'm really sorry, Clarke." He said apologetically. "She was my ex, and things just -"
"-Happened." Clarke finished with a forced smile. "Yeah, no, I get it. Of course."
"Thanks so much, Clarke." Brian grinned at her. "I knew you'd understand."
Clarke turned back to the table as he walked away, to find Octavia looking at her sympathetically.
"That utter -"
"It's fine." Clarke said automatically.
"It's not fine!" Octavia retorted, outraged. "He had no right -"
"It's alright, V." Clarke said, standing up quickly. "I'm just - going to get some fresh air."
"You sure?" Octavia's voice was softer.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Clarke said with a quick smile, pushing her way through the crowd to get to the exit. Sweat was beading on her skin, and there were so many people - and then she was out the doors and the cool air was so nice she let out a relieved gasp. She settled herself onto the steps, and wiped away a few tears with the back of her hand. It was so stupid, crying about him. She didn't even know him that well - and this was their first date. It's not like she was attached, or anything.
"Hey, Clarke."
Her head jerked up, and she saw Bellamy sitting down on the steps beside her.
"Oh, hey." She muttered, ducking her head so he wouldn't see her red face and the still-damp tears on her cheeks.
"You rushed out of there pretty fast." Bellamy commented, but his voice was soft. He wasn't prying, just letting her know he was there.
"Yeah, um, my date - got back together with an ex, apparently." She sniffled, still not looking at him.
"Bastard." Bellamy said mildly.
"It's not like I really liked him, or anything." Clarke said defensively. "He just - I just thought that maybe, for once, someone actually liked me, y'know? Maybe I was good enough for somebody."
"Hey." There was something in his voice that made her look up at him, then. "You're good enough, alright?" His voice was insistent, and suddenly that thing Clarke had felt, when he'd been looking at her earlier, was back, and for some unknown reason her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking, just a little.
"You look like a princess in that dress." Bellamy said, a small smile quirking up the edges of his lips.
"Yeah?" Clarke said, but she wasn't smiling - and slowly, the smile faded from his lips too, and he was staring at her with an intensity that should've unnerved her but didn't. And suddenly she realized how close they were, his knees almost brushing hers, fingers inches apart. So when he leaned in to kiss her, it felt so natural. The kiss was soft and sweet, and on recall Clarke could never quite remember how long it lasted. But when they pulled apart, they were both staring at each other with discovery, and amazement, and the feeling that this was the beginning of something dynamic.
After that, everything else was history. They were the most talked-about couple at school for the next few weeks, but as time went on they were just known as that couple, the one that was always together and always would be. When Bellamy graduated, Clarke was there, cheering like her lungs would burst, and two years later he was doing the same for her. When Clarke's dad died in a car accident, Bellamy was there, holding her when she cried and comforting her when she was beyond comfort, and when a year later his mom passed away from cancer, she kept him from falling apart. They fought every once and a while, like all couples do, but they could never spend more than a day or two apart before they were back with tearful apologies and promises to never be that stupid again.
When Clarke looked back on those years, all of her best memories were with Bellamy. They had their first time together when she was 18 and he was 20, because he didn't want to rush her into anything she wasn't ready for. And when she told him she was going to put off med school for a few years, until her mom was ready to cope with life on her own, and she was ready to handle the same, he stroked her hair and told her that whatever she needed, he was there for. They had their biggest fight when he dropped out of his second year of college without telling her, and she found out from Octavia a few days later.
"You can do so much with your life!" She had shouted, her voice raw from unshed tears.
"I don't want to!" He'd shouted back. "Clarke, you're destined for greatness, and I love that about you - but I don't want that."
"Then why didn't you just tell me? I thought we were supposed to be in this together!"
"We are, Clarke. But I knew you'd react like this, I didn't want to disappoint you -"
And then both of them were crying and they crossed space between them until she was buried in his arms.
"I just want what's best for you." She'd said, her voice muffled.
"I know." He croaked out, kissing the top of her head. "I know. I love you."
"I love you too. So much."
The memory wasn't a good one, but it ended alright. So when Clarke got accepted into Stanford and she rushed to tell Bellamy, she didn't notice the expression in his eyes - or maybe she did. Of course she did.
She just didn't want to see it.
"I think we shouldn't see each other anymore."
She could see Bellamy's lips moving, but the words coming out were a jumble. This is not happening. This can't be happening.
"What?" She finally managed to croak out.
"You - You're going to Stanford." Bellamy's voice hitched in his throat. "You have so much ahead of you, and I, god, I can't be holding you back. I don't have plans outside this town, okay? This is my home, this will always be my home. I'm going to live in this little town for the rest of my life, and you are going to become a brilliant doctor and go live in New York, or England, or someplace -"
"No, no, I don't want to go to those places, not if you aren't there -"
"-You can't stop me, Clarke -"
"-It's not your decision -"
"I'm sorry."
And there was a finality in his eyes as he said it, as he backed out of the room. Clarke distantly heard the click of the door sliding shut, but she was detached. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. Throughout everything, he'd been there. He'd always been there. He was her other half, the person she missed when he wasn't with her, the one she called up in the middle of the night when she had nightmares. The one who took her to see The Princess Bride whenever it was on at the town's little movie shop, even though he thought it was corny. The one who kept her together, kept her her.
She didn't move from the spot where she was standing until her mom came home, late from a long shift at work.
"Hey honey, I didn't expect to see you over here - weren't you supposed to be at Bellamy's?" And then she looked up and saw Clarke's face, and she set her purse down on the floor. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"Bellamy -" She couldn't finish. Couldn't even think it.
"Clarke, you're scaring me. What is it?" She walked over and gripped her daughter's hands.
"Bellamy and I broke up."
"Oh, sweetheart." And then she was in her mom's arms and she was crying, leaning into her and sobbing like her heart would break.
"I don't - I don't know how to breathe." She gasped, and she couldn't tell if she was actually forming words or not. "I don't know how to live without him, mom." And she crumbled into her mother's embrace while she tried not to die.
