Everything You Knew, Everything You Know
He was sitting with his laptop at the kitchen table post morning run because what else would he be doing at 10:30 AM on a Saturday? He'd been combing through his Netflix trying to find a new show to binge watch - something to fill the hole that Grey's Anatomy had left in his life, but ended up just settling on re-watching season 1. He was about halfway through his second episode of the morning when a red eyed and disoriented Clarke entered the room. He paused and turned around to look at her and was amused at the sight he'd found.
Her clothes were rumpled as if she'd slept in them all night, and her hair was in a familiar state of disarray. After living with her for a week Bellamy was starting to figure out that the "always put together Clarke" was somewhat of a well illustrated facade. Before he'd only ever seen her on rare occasions and he'd either been dragged to meet them at some bar, or make small talk with her while O set up a show at the ARK.
He was beginning to realize that he'd only ever really known this girl in a public capacity, always surrounded either by a throng of people or with his sister. Alone, in the comfort of her own home where there was no one to judge her, Clarke Griffin was someone else entirely. Someone who was probably capable of committing homicide if it meant getting coffee, someone who would rather eat Chinese takeout than a five course meal, and someone who was forgetful, especially when it came to locking a damn door.
Living with her had made her seem real, more flawed than perfect. And if he was being perfectly honest with himself, someone he could actually grow to like.
As if she'd heard his thought about the coffee she groaned and muttered something about caffeine, and he burst into a laugh at the coincidence of it all.
She pierced him with eyes like daggers, "And what exactly is so funny?"
He tried to stifle a snort, covering it up with a cough and turning his nose back into his book, "Nothing Princess, nothing at all."
A couple minutes later she came to sit across from him at the table, giant ass mug of steaming coffee and strawberry cream cheese bagel in hand.
They sat in silence for a few moments while she sipped and sipped until a small smile crept onto her face.
"Better?" he asked.
She let out a contented sigh, "Much."
He shook his head, "I don't know how you can function like that."
She took a bite of her bagel and replied with a mouth still half full, "Whutdya een?"
He raised a brow as if to say seriously?
She swallowed and a slight blush crept onto her cheek, "What do you mean?" she repeated more clearly this time.
"How much sleep are you going off of right now?"
She glanced at the watch on her wrist, "Uhh… 4 hours?"
His eyes widened, "You are insane."
She shrugged as if to say she'd accepted the fact. "I've been sleep deprived since I was sixteen. The pumpkin spice lattes are my way of staying in denial."
"You're not serious?"
She grinned from behind her cup, "Not about the pumpkin spice."
He dramatically swiped at his brow as if he was relieved, "Phew. And here I was worried I was living with the epitome of a white girl."
She put her cup down and stared at him in disbelief, "Bellamy Blake you were sitting alone watching Grey's Anatomy on Netflix and you're worried that I'm a stereotypical white girl?"
He'd had a retort right on the tip of tongue, but it slipped from his mind and he just sat there open mouthed like an idiot.
Clarke beamed in defeat, "That's what I thought."
A few hours later they'd decided to just walk to O's together, considering he'd got himself roped in to "helping set up". Clarke filled him in that "helping set up" was really just code for Octavia either gushing or complaining to her about living with Lincoln.
"What the hell am I supposed to do then?" he asked from the hallway as Clarke was getting changed behind her closed door.
"Just stand around and look pretty!" she'd called and he'd let out a stream of incomprehensible growls, trying to ignore the weird mixture of insult and embarrassment he'd felt when she called him "pretty". Bellamy Blake was many things, but pretty was not one of them. Ruggedly handsome? Yes. But "pretty" definitely not.
"Or," the door began to open, "You could actually help and set up. That's an option too. Now, I need your help… "
She stepped out into the hallway where he was was standing and put her hands onto her hips. Now this was the Clarke he'd been used to. She was dressed in a loose white "blouse" (he'd dated enough women to know the difference between a shirt and a blouse) and strategically ripped light blue jeans. Her previously chaotic hair was swept back into a fancy ponytail. Bellamy didn't even know that ponytails could look fancy, but Clarke Griffin's sure did. She looked put together without even trying, like it was effortless for her. He'd be impressed if he didn't know what her version of effortless really looked like.
"Bellamy?"
He dragged his eyes back up to meet her gaze, trying to hide the fact that he hadn't been paying attention to anything she'd been saying in the last minute.
She stared at him knowingly, "You didn't hear a word I just said did you?"
He grimaced, "Guilty."
She sighed and pointed to her feet, "Do these shoes clash with the rest of this outfit?"
"Are you fucking serious?"
She hit him on the arm and he couldn't tell if it was playful or not. After all, the girl really did have a violent streak.
"Yes I am serious!"
"Princess, do I look like I have a fucking clue whether or not those heels clash with your outfit?"
She grinned, "Well you know they're heels so at least that's a start."
He groaned.
She yielded slightly, "Fine, fine, just tell me whether or not you think it looks ok?"
He rolled his eyes, but did as she said. For not the first time since she'd moved in he found himself in an argument he saw no way of winning. He fixed his gaze at her shoes and knit his brows together in concentration. She was wearing heels that had to be at least 5 inches, he came to that conclusion because she was now standing closer to his eye level than he'd ever seen her before. An observation which only made her seem more terrifying.
He shrugged, they were regular deep red heels that seemed to look fine enough to him, but..."Aren't your feet going to hurt in those?"
Clarke stared at him for a moment and then inexplicably burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing she'd heard in years.
He frowned and grumbled defensively, "Fine. They're your feet, do what you want with them."
She gripped his forearm for a moment before letting go as if to steady herself and tried to stop wheezing.
"No, no I'm sorry, it's just that usually I get O to help me with these things and she'd have the complete opposite reaction. She'd probably tell me these were too low and to pick ones that made my butt look better. It's refreshing to get a practical opinion for a change."
He clenched his jaw and swallowed, he hadn't even considered how they made her butt look and now he was fighting himself from stopping to take a glance.
She peered at him, "Oh my god you're thinking about my butt now aren't you?"
He rolled his eyes, "For goodness sake woman. Go change into some sandals and let's go!"
She laughed and ran back into her room, and yes, he did take a peek at her ass as she went.
His sister may have been ridiculous, but he had to admit, she did know what she was talking about.
Hours later the homecoming party was in full swing. As it turned out he had in fact been roped into helping Lincoln set up while O and Clarke sat on the couch, wine glasses in hand. He couldn't make out any of their hushed whispers, and Lincoln had just resigned himself to it.
"Trust me man," he said, "You don't even want to know."
Around 6 the place had become filled to the brim with people, some of which he knew, and some he'd never even seen before. O and Lincoln's place was bigger than his apartment, but with the amount of people they'd invited you couldn't even tell. But still, even with the crowd, the place was characteristically "theirs". He spotted Octavia's photo's and various band memorabilia wherever he turned. She and Lincoln had even hung up their graduating hats side by side. The place felt like it had been theirs all along even if they'd only been there for one week.
He'd milled around the party, chatting with Lincoln and some of their buddies they played ball with sometimes on weekends. He also saw a couple of girls O and Clarke must have known from college, because he recognized a few of the names, pulling them up from the back of his mind.
Finally, to his disdain, he also was reacquainted with some of his almost roommates. He was nursing a beer talking to one of Lincoln's friends from high school, a decent guy called Penn, when Alex the drummer came up to him.
"Hey! Teacher duuuude! Good to see you man, how you vibing?"
Bellamy frowned. What the actual fuck was "vibing"?
He sighed when it was apparent the drummer expected a reply, "Uh yeah I'm doing good."
Alex grinned like he knew something Bellamy didn't, "Yeah I bet you are."
"What's that supposed to mean."
"Dude, good call with passing me up as a roommate. You got a way sweeter deal, damn that girl is hot. So what's the deal with you two? You dating?"
Bellamy glanced over to wear Alex was looking. Clarke was sitting on the arm of the couch talking to some heavily tattooed guys who he could only assume were in a band of some sort. He turned back to Alex who was waggling his brows and Bellamy was immediately reminded of what had annoyed him so much at their first meeting.
He knew he didn't owe this guy an explanation, but he figured he would set the record straight. The last thing he wanted was everyone at this party thinking him a Clarke were an item, and he especially did not want that getting back to Clarke.
"I was doing my sister a favour, Clarke needed a place to stay and I had one available. That's it."
Alex clearly wasn't buying it because he just nodded and said "Sure dude, whateeever you say."
He walked away and Bellamy grumbled under his breath. He tried to distance himself from the main crowd, but pretty much every space in the apartment was filled. He heard O laughing somewhere in the distance, but didn't even want to attempt to find her. He settled on retreating to the kitchen and leaning against the fridge, people watching while finishing his beer.
He saw a blonde head in his peripheral and he turned to see Clarke standing next to him with a bowl of chips in her hand. He had to lean down to look at her now that she'd swapped out of those ridiculous heels for a pair of simple gold flats.
"Chip?" she offered.
Bellamy smirked, "Aren't those supposed to be for everyone?"
She shrugged and grinned slyly, "I've never really been good at sharing."
He laughed and reached out to grab a handful.
"So you wouldn't happen to know why a 19 year old drummer came up to me and asked if I was hooking up with 'teacher dude'?"
Bellamy coughed, almost choking on the chip he'd been eating. Apparently almost suffocating himself was something even Dr. Clarke found hysterical.
She continued, "He also asked me how I was vibing, I mean what the hell is vibing?"
Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. She clearly wasn't pissed about the accusation, just making a joke out of it. A joke he could work with.
He groaned, "I deal with teenagers all day and even I've never heard of that. But I do know a few things about being 'on fleek'."
She laughed again, "Oh my god, please never say that again."
He continued tauntingly, doing his best impression of a fifteen year old girl, "Clarke, that outfit is totally on fleek."
She gripped her belly and breathed out, "Please it hurts, it physically hurts me."
This time it was his turn to laugh, but it was cut short at the sight of his sister coming up to them with her hands on her hips.
"Bellamy, did I just hear you say the words on fleek?"
He groaned while Clarke looked triumphant, "Yes, yes you did. And I am never going to let him forget it."
He cursed under his breath causing both girls to laugh.
"Clarke, come on I want you to meet someone."
She smiled, "Yeah ok I'll be right there," but she made no sign to move and instead remained leaning next to Bellamy while his sister gave her a questioning look before heading back into the crowd.
"I'm not big on the huge crowd thing," Clarke admitted to him.
It was as if she said exactly what he'd been feeling. Bellamy was sure he'd looked awkward milling around the crowd, but Clarke? He never guessed she felt just as uncomfortable as he did on the inside and if she did, well then she was certainly better at hiding it.
"You? Come on you're a natural!"
She peered up at him with brows raised.
He elaborated, "Come on I saw you talking with those band guys, they were practically enthralled with you."
She grinned at him with half her mouth raised, a smile he was beginning to figure out was the one she used when she was mocking him. "Enthralled, eh?"
He shrugged, and tried to hide how stupid he felt.
"Well, thanks. It's nice to hear I don't look as awkward as I feel. But anyway, what made you say they were band guys?"
"These are my sister's friends were talking about here, I'm willing to bet more than half this crowd has been in a band at some point or another. Plus they had tattoos."
"So tattoo's automatically equal being in a band. Well then, guess that makes me one too."
His eyes widened. Oh no way, Clarke Griffin did not have a tattoo. His expression must have formed the question he'd been thinking because she immediately back tracked.
"Oh no, no way. I am not telling you where it is."
He leered at her and leaned in closer, enjoying the fact that she was getting so flustered, "Then I don't believe you."
Instead of blushing like he expected her too she just straightened her chin and returned a mysterious smile of her own, "I can live with that. And by the way you're wrong."
"Hmm?"
"They're not in a band, they're part of an improv group called Grounders. O and I lived in the same apartment building as a bunch of them back at UCB. She even forced me to join, but I quit after a week, I so did not have the talent to be a part of that. O was a natural obviously, so I went to all their shows. Now they've gotten pretty big and they travel all around the west coast. To be honest they're practically like family to us."
Huh? Improv group… he certainly hadn't been expecting that, and he definitely could not picture Clarke joining something like that, even for a week.
But something about the way she'd said us had made him feel bitter on the inside. Her and Octavia, they really were an us. He had to admit he'd never really thought about her friendship with his sister. He'd always found it random that the roommate his sister had hated had suddenly switched from being an enemy to being her best friend, but what the hell did he know about girls?
But the way she talked about the Grounders, like it was a piece of their lives that was so natural to her, Bellamy couldn't help but think about what he'd missed out on. Ever since their mother had died, Octavia had been Bellamy's person. She was the most important thing to him on this planet, and he was closer to her than he was with anyone. But the fact that he hadn't even heard about this chapter in her life, even if it was just an improv group… he couldn't stop himself from feeling like she'd moved on. That she and Clarke were closer than the two of them could ever be.
He didn't feel jealous, no, it wasn't that. If anything he just felt off, like all of a sudden it was painfully obvious that he didn't belong.
He could feel Clarke staring, her eyes questioning why he'd suddenly gone silent, but before she could ask anything they both turned their heads to Octavia who'd returned.
"Clarke!"
Clarke looked at Bellamy for a second longer and put the bowl of chips down next to where she'd been leaning on the counter.
"Yeah, yeah I'm coming keep your pants on."
"You better be…" and Octavia turned back around and this time Clarke started to follow before stopping for a second longer.
"Hey Bellamy?"
He tilted his head to meet her gaze straight on.
"Relax. You're a natural too."
And with that she left and he lost track of her in the mass of people. A crowd he'd apparently been too quick to judge, and he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he didn't know Clarke Griffin at all.
Hours, and he meant hours later, the party had dwindled back down to the four of them. Somehow he'd gotten saddled with the duty of helping to clean up, but none of them seemed to be at all interested in doing that right now.
Clarke and Octavia were collapsed onto the couch while he and Lincoln had been demoted to the arm chairs across from them.
Octavia, who after hours on her feet didn't even look tired, suddenly sprang to life suddenly, "Oh Clarke! I totally forgot to tell you, but you know what I just remembered? I have your old easel here."
"Oh my god I haven't seen that in years."
His sister jumped off the couch and ran out of sight to bring back a giant easel from her room.
"Octavia that thing is bigger than you," he pointed out.
"Hush Bellamy," she set it down and looked at it. "I found it in the storage room and was going to bring it over this week, but forgot."
Clarke was staring at the easel like she was seeing an old friend for the first time in years. Bellamy for one was confused why she even had an easel, he didn't even know that Clarke was into art.
"Hey you know what we should do? Pictionary!"
"Octavia it's practically midnight. We don't even have a board."
She flapped her hand dismissing him, "Hush Bellamy."
And all three of them laughed at his expense.
"Fine," he sighed in defeat, "Let's play Pictionary."
Lincoln came around to pat him on the shoulder, "We'll get through this bud."
Bellamy rolled his eyes, but before he knew it they were splitting up into teams.
"I call Clarke," Octavia cried out.
Lincoln place a hand to his chest, "Wow I feel so loved."
Octavia bounced back onto the couch while he and Lincoln sat down on the floor. The two girls laughed and did some kind of weird handshake Bellamy couldn't follow.
"Solidarity sister!" Octavia called.
"Ya! Ya!" Clarke replied, and Bellamy felt completely and utterly lost trying to understand the nuances and antics of female friendship.
And so they ended up playing their own makeshift version of Pictionary for an hour. An hour. The fact that he and Lincoln were getting creamed like there was no tomorrow didn't make the time pass any quicker.
Lincoln flung his hands in the air, "Bellamy, dude, this is so obvious!"
Bellamy growled in frustration, "What are you talking about? You are drawing an intestine. That looks like an intestine."
Lincoln yelled back at him, "The category is books! How can you not know this! What the fuck kind of books were you reading about intestines?"
At some point in the game all three of them had ended up on the ground and Clarke was now bouncing on her knees, her brows knit in concentration before she had a light bulb moment. "Oh my god, oh my god I know! I know! It's the Very Hungry Caterpillar!"
Lincoln groaned and the two girls next to Bellamy erupted into cheers.
Clarke went up to take Lincoln's place while he sat down next to Bellamy and whacked him on the head. "Seriously Bellamy, Seriously?"
Bellamy shoved him off, "It's not my fault you can't draw for shit!"
"Boys play nice," Clarke chided from the front.
"What category are we doing now?" she asked.
"Book to Movie Adaptations" O called, taking out one of the pieces of papers they'd cut up.
She smiled, "Adaptations it is."
Clarke started drawing and Bellamy found himself concentrating and mesmerized, not for the first time that night. Unlike Lincoln's image, Clarke's seemed to take shape effortlessly, and it was clear to him she was beyond talented when it came to art. She moved her hand across the board like it was second nature, the only sign she was concentrating was the slight crease that he would catch a glimpse of between her brows. It never even occurred to him that she was showing off, and if anything it was as if they didn't even exist to her. It was just her and the crayola marker, like a freaking match made in heaven.
She backed away from the board and Octavia was immediately scanning the image.
Clarke had drawn a pair of hands, a man and a woman (they were in stick figures, but still the best damn stick figures he'd ever seen) and a snowflake.
He and Lincoln just stared at each other dumbstruck.
"Bellamy, you're the bookworm, you've got to know this."
He studied the picture and he felt himself growing frustrated, his mind was drawing a blank.
Meanwhile Clarke and Octavia were communicating with each other, practically without even needing any words. All night they'd shout random things at each other like "Wilson Hall '08" or names like "Danny and Jared's 2012 party." It was as if they were speaking in some kind of code that only the two of them could understand.
As close as he was to his sister, they'd never been like that. He'd never been like that with anyone before and he felt pissed at himself for the unwelcome tightness in his throat.
Octavia was clearly understanding whatever weird nonsense Clarke was saying to her or pointing at in sequence on the board because she stood up and starting squealing.
"You're hands are cold! Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfayden Pride and Prejudice 2005!"
Clarke squealed triumphantly in return.
"Yes, yes yes!"
Bellamy and Lincoln let out simultaneous groans.
"Ha!" O cried out, flipping around towards them, "And that's another point for us!"
Lincoln yawned and waved his hands up in the air in defeat, "That's it. We surrender."
Bellamy joined in bowing his head, "We give up, please show us some mercy."
Clarke laughed and the two girls high-fived eachother. "You trained him well," she complimented O.
Though his sister said it in a whisper, he could have sworn she replied, "So did you."
Bellamy had luckily been relinquished from his cleaning up duties and he and Clarke were making their way down the now almost empty Seattle streets back to their apartment.
It wasn't raining anymore, but the night was chilly and he could see and hear Clarke shivering as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
"I should have brought a coat," she said more to herself than him.
"We're almost there."
They were walking side by side and she turned to look at him, "You know you didn't have to carry that all the way back."
He stared down at her easel which was now place beneath the crook of his arm. It wasn't heavy, but he could tell he probably looked stupid and was more than thankful that there was practically no one around to see him.
"It's no big deal, I wanted to."
She smiled gratefully and the two walked in companionable silence for a while.
"Interesting crowd tonight, huh?" she commented.
That was the understatement of the century. Improve groups, drummers, art students, and soon to be lawyers. All kinds of people gravitated to the ARK, and he shouldn't have been surprised to find that his sister and Clark had such a diverse group of friends. But there had still been a fair share of sketchy characters.
"I wonder how many drug dealers I unknowingly met tonight."
Clarke shoved his arm, "Oh come on Bellamy."
They'd reached the door to their building and Clarke opened the door and held it out for him to walk through.
He defended himself as they walked up the stairs, "What I'm just saying, sometimes looks can be deceiving. You never know what kind of shady things people could secretly be doing."
They reached the third floor and Clarke opened their door for him to walk through again.
He continued, setting the easel down in the living room, "Hey, it's like your old chemistry TA. Didn't he turn out to be a dealer on the side?"
When she didn't respond he turned to look at her, and was met with a blank expression. She was still standing in the hallway and was blinking as if dazed and confused, trying to process what he just said.
"Clarke?" he asked.
"How did you know about my chem TA?"
He shrugged innocently, "I don't know, you told me about him."
He figured that was the end of that so he plopped down onto the couch and turned on the TV for some mindless drivel before he passed out.
Clarke came over tentatively and sat down next to him, all the way at the opposite end of the couch.
"When?"
"When what?" he said, flipping through the channels and just landing on a replay of the Seahawks game from earlier that week. He'd never been a fan of football, it always seemed boring and ridiculous to him.
"When did I tell you about my chemistry TA?"
He sighed in exasperation. "It was," he started to answer, but stopped himself when he realized he really didn't know. He wracked his mind, but it came up blank. He knew he remembered having the conversation, that was for sure. Her words rang clear in his mind, but nothing else about the situation made sense. When would she have ever told him something like that? He felt inexplicably confident that she had, but he couldn't remember when… and he couldn't remember why.
He turned away from the screen to face her and she was staring at him wide eyed, like she was waiting for an answer, but one he didn't know how to give.
"Geez Clarke I don't know," he was tired and annoyed with his own memory and the words had come out harsher than he'd meant. He saw her recoil and he felt badly about snapping at her so he continued more softly, "Does it really matter?"
She broke his gaze and didn't turn back to look at him, fixing her focus on the TV instead. "No, I guess it doesn't."
But he couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, for reasons unknown to him, it did.
He could tell she was starting to be pissed at him, and he felt completely helpless not knowing what he'd done to offend her. She was still so new to him, so shrouded in secrecy and he had no idea how to reconcile the Clarke Griffin he thought he knew with the real one sitting 3 feet away from him.
He understood now that she wasn't the spoiled 18 year old brat he'd labelled her so long ago. He felt a pit of guilt in his stomach, remembering how harshly he'd judged her and how cruel he'd been to her for so long. Maybe they were both to blame, they'd never really gotten the chance to get to know each other - the only thing they'd ever had in common before being his sister.
But today it'd been like something had clicked inside him. Like he finally saw the first glimpse of the real best friend of his sister's he'd never really acknowledged or bothered to know. He saw the way Octavia was around her. His sister had always been a wild card, and she still had that side to her, of course, but he'd never believed the Octavia he'd grown up with would have ever had the focus and the drive to build a business the way she had.
She'd become responsible, mature even, and a stronger woman than he'd ever have imagine, and something told him that she hadn't gotten there on her entirely on her own. Something told him that part of the reason for her success had undeniably come from Clarke. During their college years he'd missed out on so much of his sister's life, he'd never really realized how much until recently, and while he'd been gone doing his own thing Clarke had been there for his sister every step of the way.
And he'd repaid her by being an asshole.
She was still focused on the screen, and he could feel that she was about to get up and leave soon, and so he decided to finally acknowledge it, and finally swallow his pride.
"I see it now," he said, his throat dry and the words coming out like a croak.
She still didn't turn to face him, but in his periphery he thought he could see her brows peak in curiosity.
"See what?" she asked, and he couldn't place a finger on the emotion in her voice.
He sighed, trying to figure out the right words to say while at the same time knowing they'd probably never be enough.
"I see why my sister loves you. Why she needs you, why the two of you are best friends. I didn't before," he admitted, "But I do now."
She finally looked at him, but he didn't meet her gaze. He knew he should go on, spill out every thought running through his head. Tell her that he'd been a dick, that he felt guilty for practically leaving his sister alone for years. That he hated the fact that he didn't know anything about almost 8 years of her life. Tell her that he felt guilty for never giving Clarke a chance, for hanging on to that stupid stereotype, and for treating her in a way she'd never really deserved.
But he couldn't say all those things, not yet.
He turned to meet her eyes, and even though her face was devoid of emotion, he felt as if behind her eyes he could see her thoughts running just like his, at a thousand miles a minute.
"Clarke?"
He paused. She waited.
"Thank you."
She turned back to face the screen, and Bellamy inwardly winced at the disappointment he felt in the pit of his stomach. It hadn't been enough, of course it hadn't, how could it be?
But his thoughts were interrupted when she reached out and lightly squeezed his hand that he hadn't even noticed he'd been clenching.
She met his eyes and it was if some kind of unspoken understanding passed between them.
"You're welcome." She'd said it no louder than just above a whisper, but Bellamy heard it as clear as day. She squeezed his hand for a second longer before returning hers to her lap. He looked down at the space where her hand had been just a moment ago, and realized his gripped had relaxed and as had the tension he'd been feeling in his chest for the greater part of the evening.
They sat in silence for some minutes more before Clarke got up and left, leaving him with a quiet, "Good Night."
He sat and stared at the screen until he felt his lids starting to weigh down, unable to keep them open for much longer.
He retreated back to his room and collapsed onto the bed.
Thank You.
You're Welcome.
It wasn't enough.
But it was a start.
A/N : Whaaat? Two updates in one day?! I couldn't help myself, the words just kept flowing onto the page and I didn't want to stop. I figured it'd be pointless to wait to post this anyways... think of it as my way of making up for being a less than consistent updater so far :/ But anyhow, I think this chapter has definitely been my favourite to write thus far :) I really wanted to try to make Bellamy's "Shit, I've been a total dick haven't I?" realization to come as naturally as possible, and I tried to keep the progression of his emotions as realistic as I could. Of course this is still a slow burn, but the flames starting guys, and I'm pretty freaking excited about it.
Hope you liked this one just as much as I enjoyed writing it!