Out of her favour, where I am in love*

He despised her, mostly. It's not like she was an important part of his life, no, not at all. She's just been going in and out of their apartment, he treated her almost like a flatmate. A very annoying flatmate, truth be told. It's not about the way she sometimes looked at him, with clear disgust and apathy or the way she frowned whenever he interrupted her rants. He could bear it. He despised her too, after all.

But things have changed lately. She comes with a wide smile all over her face and even his pretty creative invectives cannot ruin her ever-growing happiness. Perhaps it's the way her not-a-boyfriend-anymore looks at her or the way the diamond ring fits her finger, flashing rays of light in every direction, blidning him with its treacherous charm. He doesn't like her or even, respect her, like he would respect any other girl appearing in his apartment. It's a shame to admit, he treats her terribly, but she doesn't seem to care and it infuriates him. What's happened to the once easily irritated, familiar girl he's known for months? He doesn't know.

It's evening and she kisses his flatmate's cheek. This very flatmate happens to be her fiance. He loves her truly and it's so obvious it's almost disgusting to watch. But she loves him too.

He sits on the couch watching them both tight in a loving embrace. He has his ways with girls, obviously. He adores them and pleases them too, but his foolish manners cannot be compared to these two who spend every free second together. He's not jealous of his girlfriend, God no. He's jealous, because he's never experienced this kind of love, true, intense, one in a lifetime. He's jealous, because she's the only girl who hasn't chosen him over... basically anyone else, especially his flatmate. It's just his ego, really. Or so he thinks.

She doesn't seem to notice or it's just a game, hard to tell, but the way she looks at him sometimes makes his veins melt and freeze at the same time. It's almost as if she tried to show him her happiness, but he doesn't care at all. He never does, apart from these little moments of affection she shows him whenever she's drunk. Nothing big, really, especially with her fiance by her side, but that's just what she does. Her fiance doesn't even notice, he doesn't notice her daring gaze, her seductive laugh, the way she shakes her head with disbelief at his stupid jokes.

He only jokes when he's drunk. She only laughs at them when she's drunk too. He only sees her when his vision's blurred, when his mind's covered with thick fog of whiskey-amber haze. He only sees her when she looks at him with those blue eyes, too innocent to be accused of flirting with a stranger. Because that's who he is to her, technically. Just her fiance's flatmate who tends to sleep with pretty much every girl he meets, who drinks a bit too much on a party, who watches her when she's not looking. He tried to get rid of this habit though. It's weird and scary and he knows it. He's been trying to stop himself, to take a step back from the abyss. He couldn't. He's been standing on the edge for the past few weeks, but he's losing his solid ground. He's about to fall and she looks at him with a strange spark in his eyes, the eyes that say I'll not catch you if you fall. So he stops himself. It's getting harder every time he sees her, but he won't give in. The fall is taunting him, daring him to jump into the abyss. He looks it right in the eyes and says I won't. But his words are empty and hollow whenever she smiles at him. These rare moments make him want to just do it and fall...

He doesn't and he won't. Not until she jumps with him.

He sits on the couch with a couple of friends. She's here too. Her fiance decided to throw a party celebrating the fact that they got engaged. Oh, what an event, he thinks with mockery followed by an instant denial of any feelings towards her.

He takes a sip from his bottle of beer, his face twisted in a disgusted grimace. He doesn't even drink that much, but his behaviour's no longer under his strict control. Not when he sees her. She plays with her hair looking at her husband-to-be and throws her arms around his neck. He whispers something in her ear, it's I love you and he does it loud enough for Bellamy to hear.

'Hey, Blake! Playing a round or not?', his friend, Nate invites him to play poker with them. Such a nasty game, but he knows all of the rules, so he nods his head and joins them, taking a seat on the carpet. It's stained with alcohol, mustard, even blood. It's from the time Clarke cut herself with a knife just when her relationship with Finn reached a span of a month together. Her fiance was out working and she was making a dinner, she does it sometimes as if it was her own apartment... Not that he's had any problem with it.

He was sitting in the living room, reading Paradise Lost, so caught up in his thoughts he didn't even hear her squeal. But she ran to him, blood dripping from her finger, 'cause she didn't even know the location of the medical kit. Quite frankly, he didn't know it either. But he took some cloth and bathed it in water to clean the wound. He wrapped her finger tightly and laughed at her absentmindedness. She told him to fuck off and disappeared in the kitchen with a disapproving smile, waving the knife at him. It was truly, a paradise lost, just not in a literary sense, which made it all worse to handle. But he wasn't there yet, he didn't see her like this back then, so his hands didn't tremble when his fingers touched her skin. He could only thank heavens for that moment, without feeling guilty, because he was just helping her out back then, no strings attached.

The situation looks quite different nowadays, but he's lost among the mysterious glances of his opponents, the taunting thoughts of money lying on the table right in front of him.

He takes another sip of his liquor and starts to play a bit too dangerously, with a little too much to lose. He doesn't take it into acoount, the very possibility of losing, but he soon finds himself without the majority of his current funds, because he loses. It used to be a better fun for him, but he's only been losing for the last few weeks. It's un unlucky time, but he doesn't particularly care about his money, which is what started worrying him in the first place. He stopped caring about most of the material things in his life, his thoughts got occupied by only one person and that was the moment he realized he's staring straight into the abyss. The abyss of love, the deadliest of all.

'Bellamy, I'm going home', his sister, Octavia, kisses his cheek, her breath full of whiskey scent, which leaves him disgusted.

'How? I know you drank, you brat', he tilts his head in a disapproving manner and gets up to face her. Her apartment is about ten minutes from his, but it's almost midnight and he won't let her go on foot, even though she turned twenty-one this year.

'You treat me like a child', she snorts averting her gaze with hurt. Deep down she knows too well it's the result of his protective nature towards her, but she likes giving him hard time in his reckless, as she thinks, life.

'Because you act like one. Just because you're legal now, doesn't mean you've got to drink on every party you're on, O', he says with amusement. She rolls her eyes at the statement.

'Will you ever piss off? It's my life and I'll do whatever the hell I want with it, whether you like it or not', she retorts and turns around, but he grabs her forearm.

'So do whatever the hell you want, but let me get you a ride home', he says and lets go of her arm. He takes his phone out of the pocket of his jeans.

'Yeah, well, I know you drank too. Just like everyone on this party. How does that happen that whenever Finn and Clarke throw a party, everyone always ends up drunk?', she wonders and it makes Bellamy laugh. He does notice the pained spark in her voice though, her longing stare, which pierces his flatmate's back every time he turns around. She used to be smitten with Finn a couple of months ago, before he met Clarke. She doesn't like being turned down and she never shows that she's hurt. Especially when it comes to guys. But Bellamy knew that he truly made her suffer when it turned out that he's not interested in her at all. Octavia's beautiful and brave and rebellious and pretty much a definition of a free-spirited human being, that everyone craves so desperately to meet. Rejection was a huge blow for her and now, even though it's just sentiment, he suspects that she still hopes for any sort of interest shown by her once beloved man.

It's funny though, the way they both chose their darlings. It's funny how both of their deeply hidden desires broke their hearts and fell in love with each other, leaving them all alone. Octavia suffers and her brother knows it all too well, because the reason of her suffering is the reason of his trouble.

'I have no idea. But you should probably ask Finn, he's truly a definition of a drunkard', he smiles looking at his flatmate who's singing karaoke on the countertop with Clarke watching him from the hallway. She leans on the wall eating strawberries from the box. Bellamy'd bought them earlier.

'Maybe it's not always his initiative', she says defensively and Bellamy knows well what she means. She's friends with Clarke, she likes her, but whenever she sees them together it's almost as if she turned into a different person towards the blonde.

'I got you a transport', he only says and kisses Octavia's forehead.

'Yeah, who?', she asks mockingly as she opens the front door.

'Don't even ask. If the guy tries to do anything other than driving you home, just tell me and I'll break his neck. Deal?', he tilts his head as she laughs.

'Why did you call him then?', she asks curiously and steps on the staircase.

'He's a friend, well, let's say so, of mine. And he's sober. Two basic conditions intact', he shrugs.

'If anything, I can take care of myself', she says teasingly and waves him goodbye.

'If anything, O, you have to...', he shouts, but she's already gone.

He goes back to the apartment and sighs.

'Hey, want a strawberry?', he almost bumps into Clarke as he turns around. It's not like he gets paralyzed the second she talks to him or watches her eternally like some sort of a creep. Because he has his own duties and life, he studies and meets pretty girls in clubs. But moments like these are his favourite in the entire world, when there are only two of them, almost acting as if they were friends. It's all just a fake façade though, they're really great actors.

'No, thanks. I bought them though', he says nonchalantly and crosses his arms.

'How kind of you, what's the occasion?', she asks in a mocking manner, biting a fruit.

'There was a promotion, you know. I thought, maybe they're rotten, I'll treat my friends with it and see the outcome', he shrugs innocently. She hits his arm and his expression turns to grimace.

'Unfortunately, they're not. Maybe they only poison your friends', she says with a satisfied smirk.

'Oh, so we're not friends? You're breaking my heart', he snorts ironically, which is how he usually acts around her, unless he's completely drunk.

'Turns our your plan had a gap in it. You have no friends to poison', she grins.

'I really have no idea what your fiance loves about you', he shivers theaterically, which is quite ironic, considering that the statement is ridiculous coming out of his mouth.

'Just ask him', she smirks and glances at Finn who's singing Beyonce's Single Ladies without any music playing. The whistles and applause are defeaning, so Bellamy moves closer Clarke, but she doesn't seem to notice.

'Yeah, maybe tomorrow', he rolls his eyes with a smile and yawns.

'Go to sleep, Bellamy. I know you have lectures tomorrow', she says and it's such a rare thing for her to say something nice, almost caring to him.

'I know you've got lectures too. I also know that you drank a bit too much whiskey, which is why you're gonna have a problem getting up tomorrow', he replies playfully, poking her shoulder.

'I can't sleep at night anyway', she says and shrugs. It surprises him, the confession she's made. It surprises him, because he already knows about her sleep issues from her. But she looks at him with a playful spark in her eyes and it's too much for him to handle.

'I'm sure your fiance can help you with that', he replies mockingly and passes her in a hallway. It might seem like a strange thing for him to do, but Bellamy doesn't play games. Or at least he doesn't want to. Not with Clarke. He's almost certain that the only reason she said that was because that's just how Clarke was. It was always fun and games with her. Only fun and games.

'Not as far as I'm concerned', she chuckles and he stops. It's a wrong thing to do.

'Is it because the competition was too good?', he says with a bitter smile, but she cannot see it, because he's turned away from her.

'Maybe', she replies and it leaves him stunned. He turns around only to see her closing the bedroom's door. She stays for a night tonight.

He stares at the door for a few more seconds before turning away and locking himself in his own room. Lying on the cold bed, he gazes at the ceiling. Maybe.

The competition was actually him.

Clarke's problems with sleep were the only ones she's ever told him about. It was a couple of months ago, she was in their apartment, but Finn was not back yet from his university. It was a cold evening, so Clarke was going around wrapped in a warm blanket. She couldn't sleep so he came to her and brought her a cup of peppermint tea. They talked about various things, from the universe to their future plans, they were friends back then, no strings attached, no stronger feelings, just a friendship. He told her about his sister, she told him about her passion for arts. At what point does a friendship turn into something stronger, deeper, more intense...?

They kissed.

Only once. It was a long, intimate kiss, they almost...

But they stopped. And he left her room without a word and ever since that moment, they weren't real friends anymore. It's been all just a hoax, a dirty curtain that hides a heavy secret. They were rude and unapologetic towards each other and when she came to the apartment without Finn by her side... Their relations were getting even rougher and sharper. It's only when she's drunk she shows him any sort of affection. They weren't drunk back then.

But it was just one kiss shared by a couple of strangers, who wanted a way out of another lonely night.

At least that's what Bellamy keeps on telling himself. A bittersweet, innocent lie, that keeps him above water.

Hello, guys! I got inspired (again) and wrote yet another story. It's a bit different from my usual style of writing. It's supposed to be a short general story, consisting of only three chapters (at least that's my initial idea) and it'll focus on Bellamy and his feelings. I hope you liked the first chapter and I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think about it, if it's even worth continuing.

*Out of her favour, where I am in love-a quote from William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet; I obviously don't own it.

The line from the summary comes from the song Lurk by The Neighbourhood- I don't own it. I also do not own the show 'The Hundred' nor its characters (just in case somebody would like to sue me already).

Thank you for reading and once again, reviews are more than welcome! xo