October 20, 3:00PM

Clarke walks up the steps to the Blake home and knocks rhythmically three times— a sign so that they knew it was her— before entering. She sees that it was pointless, because the house seems to be empty— Mrs. Blake must be at the shop still, and Bellamy probably picked up a double shift to help his mom out. She toes her shoes off with a sigh by the door and drops her bag down beside them, padding into the kitchen to get a glass of water as she waits for Octavia to get home.

Why the girl insists on taking the bus home when Clarke can drive her, she'll never understand. It isn't like Clarke hasn't been coming here nearly every day after school since the fourth grade, so she doesn't understand why Octavia refused to ride home with her. Or at least she pretends not to know that it's because Jasper rides the same bus home every day, and Octavia had been crushing on him since Freshman year. Everyday she came home with a little grin as she told Clarke about what songs they'd listened to and what they'd talked about, and every day Clarke would ask why she hadn't just asked him out already only to be met with the same frown each time.

"Part of the fun is in being chased," Octavia would say, tapping her index finger against Clarke's nose as though she was the eighteen year old, and Clarke was sixteen. "You've got to make them work for it, otherwise where's the fun?"

Maybe Clarke should have taken those lessons more seriously, because then maybe she wouldn't be stuck in her current predicament. She sighs again, leaning her elbows against the marble countertop and rubbing her temples as she thinks about the cause of all her problems; Finn Collins.

He'd been everything she'd wanted in a boyfriend— kind, insightful, driven— yet somehow everything had gone so horribly wrong. Horribly wrong being that she'd caught him in an empty stairwell with a hand up his ex-girlfriend's shirt and his tongue down her throat. She'd made a noise to alert them to her presence, and when Finn saw it was her he'd let go of Raven as though she was on fire. Clarke blinked a few times, her mouth opened as though to speak but nothing came out. Instead, she'd turned on her heel and walked away, ignoring the sound of Finn calling her name. She wasn't sure that she'd be able to outrun him for long, but thankfully the bell had rang and the students streamed out into the hallways.

She'd been so shocked, yet somehow she hadn't felt upset. He was everything she wanted and yet somehow everything had felt so… Forced. Especially the past few months, with college application deadlines creeping closer. They hardly ever spent time together anymore, and when they did it was usually just in the back of her car for a quickie. She'd talked about it with Octavia a few times, and Octavia had given her the duh look and told her to drop him like yesterday's news; but that wasn't the type of person that Clarke was, she was too soft-hearted. So she'd stayed with him and today when she'd seen him on that stairwell, she was so startled she hadn't even known what to say.

But the reason she'd been so surprised was that she had been expecting him to break up with her, at that the point in their relationship that they were in it was honestly inevitable. She hadn't wanted to be the one to do it, because she knew how dramatic breakups always were, and the last thing she wanted was a bad breakup on top of college applications and her AP classes. So she'd waited, knowing that at some point he'd have to break up with her. Only, she found out that maybe Finn wasn't all that she thought he was, because the Finn she knew would have been decent enough to have broken up with her first. It absolutely baffled her that he could do that to someone he cared about.

Clarke huffs loudly, thumping the heel of her palm against her forehead as though it'll give her a clue as to what she's supposed to do now. She'd had to shut off her phone to stop getting all the notifications from Finn, and she knew she couldn't avoid him forever but what was she supposed to say? Hey it's fine that you moved on, because I've been waiting for it, I'd just hoped that you would be a decent human being and break up with me first to save me the dramatics. He'd think she was demented.

"Damn, you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios this morning," a deep voice behind her says, and she rolls her eyes. She turns around to face him, trying to ignore the smug little grin he wears as she crosses her arms defensively over her chest.

"And it looks like they just came back to shit in them," she says in a sugary sweet voice, batting her eyelashes at him. "How are you today, Bellamy?"

He laughs lowly as he walks past her into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk carton. "Who cares about me when you're clearly suffering." He brings the hand that isn't holding the milk up to his chest and looks at her in mock sincerity. "I'm dying to help you, Clarke. Please, tell me what's troubling your life." He lifts the carton to his lips and takes a big gulp and Clarke can feel her face scrunch up in disgust.

"Okay, firstly it's none of your business. Secondly, you're disgusting; I eat cereal with that!" He winks at her, before his face turns to shock.

"You realize what that means, right? We've practically made out." He immediately breaks out into laughter, which only grows when she reaches for a nearby apple and throws it at his head. He catches it— the cocky, little idiot— and looks even more smug than before as he takes a bite and walks over to the counter, kicking the fridge closed behind him. "No, seriously," he says around a mouthful of apple, earning him another disgusted look. "What's up? I heard you sighing all the way from my room. I thought we were getting robbed by a crabby burglar."

She gives him her famous shut the hell up, Bellamy glare, which he ignores entirely as he waits for her to explain. She rolls her shoulders in a shrug and drops her eyes to the countertop between them. "Long story short, my boyfrien- er, well ex-boyfriend now, did something really shitty to me." She is met with silence and looks up at Bellamy in confusion only to find that he looks absolutely enraged. His whole body has tensed, and his eyes bore holes into hers.

"Did he-" he curses once and runs a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tightly together. "Did he do something to you? Like, physically?" He adds the last part at her confused glance, and then she realizes what he means.

"Jesus, no thank god. Nothing like that," she reassures him quickly, and his body seems to untense one muscle at a time. He nods at her, and suddenly the silence between them feels uncomfortable in the aftermath of his anger. She'd never seen him so worked up over her well-being before; it was oddly… flattering.

"Well then, I don't get why you're letting it bother you. If he did something shitty, he's not worth your time. Sitting here brooding in my kitchen is only wasting your energy." She slumps her shoulders as he speaks, knowing that he's right. It wasn't like she hadn't known their breakup was coming, because she did. At this point, she shouldn't be so bothered by how the breakup actually happened. It was strange advice coming from Bellamy, who was famous for 'I don't know, Princess. Ask someone who cares.' She looks up at him and gives him a small smile, which he returns after a moment's pause and she's startled to realize that they're almost being friendly at the moment. He seems to realize the same thing, because he clears his throat and looks away, his cheeks slightly pink underneath his tan.

It isn't fair, she mournfully thinks to herself as she lets herself admire his features for the first time. It seems like he always has new material to mock her for— her retainer, her acne, her shower singing— but she never has anything new to retaliate with, just jokes that she and Octavia had come up with as kids. His skin is practically flawless and his voice had stopped cracking years ago, now deep and gravely like a man's rather than a boys. He's actually not bad looking when he doesn't speak. Her eyes give him a once over before returning to his face only to realize that he's watching her with a cocky smirk.

"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you checking me out," he says smugly, holding his arms out by his sides. "Please, feel free to continue."

"You're such a jerk," she mumbles, feeling her own face heat in mortification at being caught. Of course, she probably looks like some tomato half-breed rather than slightly flushed like he did.

"Apparently, a jerk you like the looks of," he jokes with a wiggle of his eyebrows, but there's an undertone to his voice that makes her heart speed up with its implication. It's almost as though he wants her to be serious, but it's crazy and there's no way that could be it; surely she's just imagining it like she's imagining that he's suddenly invading her space.

"N-No, I was just, uh-" He's definitely in her space, now. She can feel his breath on her face, and she has to tilt her head to look up at him.

"You were just…" he prods, his voice barely above a whisper now. She finds herself glancing at his lips, and she watches a muscle in his jaw tick. "Clarke-"

"Honey, I'm home!" Octavia shouts from the other room, her voice echoing throughout the kitchen. Clarke and Bellamy guiltily spring apart, and she takes a deep breath of Bellamy-less air, feeling her pulse start to slow. Octavia steps into the kitchen and looks at the two of them with her hands on her hips. "What, no greeting? I see how it is."

"The woeful life of Octavia Blake," Bellamy replies snarkily, and Octavia sticks her tongue out at him.

"Har-har-har. You're hilarious, Bell. Don't you have a car to fix, or something?" she replies, but her tone is affectionate. He tosses his apple in the trash can as he walks towards the door, ruffling Octavia's hair— much to her annoyance— as he passes. He turns his head at the last second, winking at Clarke as he passes and she feels her mouth open in shock, but he's gone before she can process it.

"So what was he bugging you about?" Octavia asks, forcing Clarke to drag her eyes away from the door Bellamy had vacated. She shakes her head once to clear it before explaining the situation with Finn— from catching him with Raven, her lack of care, and her confusion on what to do now.

"Well, sounds easy to me; don't worry about it." Octavia shrugs, before mumbling about iced cream and turning to scope through the freezer. It's almost exactly the same thing her brother had said earlier, followed by… whatever that moment had been. For a second, she'd almost been certain she'd seen his eyes drop to her mouth but there was no way it was possible. He's her best friend's older brother, and she's the girl he calls Snores because of the way her retainer makes her snore loudly throughout the night. There's no way he'd ever think about her lips, or look at them for that matter— it wasn't like she wanted him to, anyway.

Then why do you feel disappointed?