A cute little one-shot, set during the Camp Jaha/Arkadia era.

Clarke lays on her side; sharp blue eyes trained intently on the wall in front of her as she tries to fall asleep. Every time she closes her her eyes, instead of drifting peacefully into a state of rest, all she sees are visions of dark, curly hair and chocolate eyes. So Clarke chooses to focus on the pipe that runs along the metal interior of her room, wondering if she'll ever stop thinking about him long enough to get some sleep.

Bellamy lays alone in his room, staring up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids and wandering thoughts.

Bellamy had sworn to himself a long time ago that he wouldn't spend his nights thinking about a girl, and yet, here he was, his mind entangled in flashes of blonde hair and blue eyes.

Clarke wanted to slap herself. She was being ridiculous. Bellamy Blake was her friend, her co-leader. Anything more between them would risk ruining the dynamic that had worked so well for them over the past few months, and they had people that depended on them now. They didn't have room to be selfish.

He mentally shakes himself. Feelings for Clarke were dangerous, just like everything else on Earth. Feelings for Clarke would mean that he'd worry about her like crazy all the time, and he couldn't afford to be so wrapped up in someone.

You already worry about her like crazy.

Bellamy pushes the thought to the back of his mind.

Clarke shoves her face into her pillow.

No. It wouldn't work out, and then they'd have to try not to let it get in the way of their responsibilities. Besides, she was the one who made the tough decisions, and she couldn't afford to be constantly prioritizing one person's well-being.

You already prioritize him over everything else.

Clarke shakes the thought out of her head. She was rational and logical, and Bellamy was a risk.

Bellamy closes his eyes and takes a deep, decisive breath.

Clarke squeezes her eyes shut and exhales slowly.

Maybe if he talked to her, he'd be able to sleep. They could talk about rations, or patrol schedules, or medical supplies, and it would lift this weight off of his chest. Then they could go back to being friendly co-leaders. It was better that way. Much, much better.

Clarke remembers that she's out of bullets. She should probably ask Bellamy when the next batch will be ready. After all, Jasper goes to sleep early and Bellamy is the only person who he regularly checks in with about inventory.

She lifts herself from the bed, throws on a jacket over her thin t-shirt, and tugs her boots on, all while ignoring her pounding heart. It's just a normal, casual, professional visit.

Clarke reaches for the door handle, but stops with her hand on it, breathing deeply to calm her irrational nerves.

She swings the door open and, instead of seeing the cool gray of the metal hall, her vision is filled with dark blue.

Clarke takes a small step back and realizes she's looking at Bellamy's shirt; her eyes dart up to meet his, and she recognizes the look that he's giving her because it's the same look she's giving him — scared and excited and expectant all at once.

"Hey." Bellamy

"Hi."

"I was just going—"

"I was actually—"

Bellamy rubs his hand against the back of his neck and gives Clarke a shy smile as they both laugh nervously.

"You first." The blonde shifts nervously, her hand still gripping the doorknob in an attempt to steady herself.

"Oh, I was just going to ask about..." Bellamy begins, his deep voice and dark eyes causing her to shudder slightly.

"About what?" She says in a high-pitched voice, then quickly clears her throat. Get it together, Clarke.

"Um, patrol schedules." Bellamy's posture stiffens.

"Right now?" Clarke can't stop her lips from forming a small smile. Patrol schedules were an insignificant topic that easily could have waited until the morning. "It's late."

"Yeah, well, if I waited, I'd forget," Bellamy tugs at the collar of his shirt, drawing her eyes to the exposed skin on his neck.

Snap out of it.

"Are you sure you didn't come just because you wanted to see me?"

As soon as the words tumble out of her mouth, Clarke's eyebrows shoot up and her eyes widen in shock, mirroring Bellamy's. Oh god, did I really just say that? What's gotten into me?

Her eyes search Bellamy's frantically for a reaction and her heart pounds even faster when she sees his expression melt from shock into a grin.

"Well, you think pretty highly of yourself, don't you, princess?" His husky voice, teasing her like that, it's almost too much to handle. "What makes you think I'd come just to see you?"

"Because that's what I was about to do." Clarke takes pride in seeing the grin fall from his face and his lips part as he falters slightly upon hearing her words.

And suddenly, it's as if the universe suddenly bends the rules of gravity so that each is magnetic to the other, and neither wants to fight the pull anymore.

Clarke steps closer and looks up at him, attempting to look defiant and stubborn while fighting the urge to melt under his gaze.

"Clarke..."

Bellamy moves his hand to her cheek and Clarke holds her breath, too scared of ruining this moment to move.

Bellamy slowly traces his thumb along her cheek and down to her lips, his deep brown eyes exploring her baby blues and making every inch of her skin tingle with anticipation.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." Bellamy says, forehead pressed against hers and voice a low, husky whisper.

Clarke smiles.

"Me too."

Bellamy returns her smile, closes his eyes, and kisses her softly, so softly and so beautifully that she's scared this is all a dream and she'll wake up in her bed, alone and too terrified to go after what she really wants.

But as she kisses Bellamy, whose lips fit perfectly into hers and who is kissing her in a way that she'd never dreamed was possible, she can feel her doubts wash away. Right now, all Clarke knows is that she belongs with Bellamy Blake, and all she wants is to be totally and completely his.