*Bellamy*
"The meeting of two personalities is like the meeting of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
C.G. Jung

I had never really had a proper Thanksgiving. To be honest, I didn't even know what a real Thanksgiving was.

At the Blake household, it was just another day. Mom worked and I worked and Octavia stayed scarce. And then at night, when we all gathered around our little kitchen table, tired and beaten down, Mom cooked whatever was in the cabinets and told the same stories she told every night.

And it wasn't like I felt deprived. Who was I to complain about a holiday based solely on food and hostile birds? I still had the other holidays. What else did a kid need?

O and I discussed it every year. How we were adults now and we could have Thanksgiving if we really wanted to. But the thing is, we didn't want to. All of our turkey dreams included our mother and she died years ago. So we made hand turkeys and drank a lot.

The problem I faced now, was that Clarke probably did have a proper Thanksgiving. Every year, I bet. I could just see it, her, sitting at the end of a long, mahogany table, carving a turkey and chuckling with all the faceless people that filled the seats around her.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." Octavia replied when I ranted all of this to her over the phone an hour before our date was scheduled. "Were you even listening to her the other night?"

"Of course I was listening!" I yelled, immediately covering my mouth afterwards and glancing towards my closed apartment door, expecting Clarke to slam through it. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Octavia sighed and I heard her mumble something that I couldn't hear, presumably to Lincoln. "She's not normal, Bell. Remember that."

Before I could even try and reply to that, Lincoln came on the line.
"Hey man, don't stress. You're good at coming up with cool shit to do. Just relax and forget about Thanksgiving."

"I forgot about Thanksgiving."

Clarke snorted and gave me a look like I was actually insane. "You what?"

We strolled towards the heart of the city and before this, I had felt pretty good about myself. At 6 on the dot, I knocked on Clarke's door looking as date like as I could without giving off the vibe that this was a date, because it obviously wasn't, and the whole affair went pretty smoothly. Execpt for when I gaped at her for like five minutes because she was gorgeous and I was an idiot, but I just pretended that it didn't happen. And afterwards, we left and began our mysterious walk because I wouldn't tell her where we were going. I felt like I didn't know either.

"I worded that wrong." I replied quickly, wanting to kick myself. "I meant that when I was thinking about what we could do, I made myself forget that it's Thanksgiving. Like the holiday doesn't matter."

Clarke stared at me blankly and my stomach dropped through my feet and into the cement. Until she laughed and it came back up and burst through the top of my head like a goddamn firework.

"I know what you mean. I never liked the traditional Thanksgiving either."

"Really?"

Clarke shrugged. "I always thought it was kind of boring. And when my dad died it was just sad, you know?"

"Yeah. Like what's the point when you don't have the whole family, right?"

"Exactly." She nodded and we fell into a shockingly comfortable silence. This wasn't a date but if it was, it would be the most casual date I had eever been on. It was like hanging out with Octavia but without the constant harassment. And I didn't want to kiss my sister. I didn't want to kiss Clarke either, of course, but-

"Are you ever gonna tell me where we're going?" Clarke asked, suddenly cutting off my thoughts.

"Well, in about a minute, you'll find out." I smiled, scanning the street ahead of us. "And no, unfortunately, there will not be any turkeys."

I found the secret passage to the Ark Theatre about a year ago. I was never really into plays or anything but back then I spent the majority of my nights racing through quiet streets looking for trouble and the Ark was just another hole I poked through. And it became one of my favorites, mainly because there weren't any druggies living inside.

For such an esteemed building, you'd think they would close their windows all the way, especially in the winter, but I found that the one I always used, the one right above the fire escape, was always open just the slightest. Like it was waiting to be slipped through. That first night, I tiptoed up the rickety stairs of the fire escape until I reached the window before it, then explored the dark dressing rooms and stage of the Ark. That night, a show had been in process when I snuck in, but on Thanksgiving, there was no doubt that it would be empty.

"I don't think this is legal." Clarke's whisper sounded more like a yell in the dim dressing room we had just tumbled into.

"It's definitely not."

Through the dark I could see the hint of a smile on her lips. "Happy Thanksgiving."

The shadows of cluttered tables and tall mirrors loomed around us. The place seemed to be out of use, as everything was covered in dust. I was always careful not to touch anything in case someone happened to venture up here and check that everything was in its place, but Clarke began picking objects off the table closest to her and I couldn't bring myself to stop her.

"This is kind of awesome." She said under her breath, twisting a hand mirror under the light coming from the window. She carefully blew onto the glass and dust flew in all directions.

"But wait, there's more." I walked across the room to the door. Just like the window, it always remained unlocked and never made a sound when in use. I slowly pulled it open and slipped through into an even darker hallway with Clarke close behind.

After so long, I knew exactly where to go from there, even in the dark, but Clarke wasn't faring so well. When I glanced back, she was mumbling to herself with her head down and hands on either wall.

"Clarke." I laughed, lifting her chin with my fingertips. "Give me your hand."

From there we walked hand in hand through the quiet Ark Theater. And as many times as I had crept through these corridors, I never felt so on as edge as I did then, with her cold hand wrapped in my clammy one. It felt like every step was leading up to something big, like a grande finale. When we finally made it to the balconies that overlooked the stage, I expected a great symphony to start playing for us. Damn, what a missed opportunity.

"And here, we have the VIP seats as I call them, which actually aren't seats at all." I paused. "But you could've figured that out yourself."

Clarke stopped beside me and gazed at the tight space we stood in. Velvet drapes lined the entrance and a grand carpet filled the area. At the end, a worn wood railing closed off the balcony. She stepped up to it and traced the gold detailing with her fingertip.

"This is my second favorite place to go." I said casually, pretending to study the empty seats below. Clarke gave my hand a squeeze and I thought I might fall over the edge.

"What's your favorite then?" She asked quietly. I grinned through the dark, my eyes landing on the stage.

"I always wanted to be an actress."

Clarke and I laid on our backs in the middle of the sprawling stage, hands still clasped together.

"Oh really?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I know, it was stupid. I played a tree in my schools production of Wizard of Oz that one time and thought I was a star."

"A tree? Wow, you must've really stole the show."

"Shut up!" She rolled to her side and punched my shoulder.

"Sorry your royal treeness." I replied, putting my free hand up in surrender.

Clarke returned to her back with a grin. "You're an asshole."

"That's what I've been told."

After a few moments of silence, Clarke releases my hand and sits up, a crease between her eyebrows. I have to blink a few times to see her clearly through the dark.

"But seriously, Bellamy, thank you for bringing me here. This is unlike any Thanksgiving I've ever had."

I sat up too, glad the dark would hide the heat rising on my face. "It's no biggie." I shrugged.

"No, it is." She continued, pulling our hands in between us. I stared at them for a minute, mostly because I was terrified to look up at her. "Sorry," she laughed, "that got real serious."

"No, no serious is good." I stopped breathing when I realized what I said. What it implied. Clarke must've noticed it to because she ducked her head just like I had done.

"I mean, only if you want to. Be serious. You know. Because I'm fine with anything, I'm just going with the flow. I'm-"

"Bellamy." She said quietly, her hand reaching up to touch my face. All the words that had been falling from my mouth disappeared and so did my brain. Everything was gone. It was just Clarke. God, her eyes were so blue I thought I'd drown in them.

I didn't tell myself to lean forward or close my eyes or press my lips to hers. It just happened like it was supposed to all along. The blood that rushed in my ears almost sounded like an orchestra playing a crescendo. And when she pulled away, I felt like I did when the show was over. Like I wanted more but could die happy that it happened.