[A/N: Here is chapter 11! I think this is one of my favorite chapters. It was so exciting to write and I had a few directions I wanted it to go but I think I like where it's going! It's extra bellarke-y, so I hope you all are ready for that (I'm always ready for extra bellarke). I hope you enjoy it! Please do let me know what you think and also, don't hesitate to come find me on Tumblr. I post some stories/drabble there that I don't here! Until we meet again, Mia :) All grammatical errors are mine]

Music Inspired: Mess Is Mine / Vance Joy

He couldn't sleep.

His left hand was playing in her hair and her breathing was warm against his neck. His heart was still stirring around in his chest from what had happened hours ago. He had felt so many things, he had thought up so many things. She was alright. Maybe she wasn't alright but she was here and she was with him.

He sighed briefly when she pushed her body more into his. He wondered what she was dreaming about. Was she dreaming about her childhood or was her mind painting vivid dreams about hopes for the future? He wondered if she dreamed about him.

He surely dreamed about her. Her blonde waves seemed to haunt his dreams but as his fingers untangled her curls, he couldn't imagine this as anything other than a bittersweet dream that he didn't want to wakeup from.

He thought about his childhood as absent-mindedly continued to stroke her hair. He thought about his very first memories. How most of the memories he could recall were clouded around Octavia and her young grin. He thought about how the feisty brunette filled the large void in his heart.

He glanced at a piece of blonde hair between his fingers and realized that maybe Octavia wasn't the only one filling his darkness with light.

He sighed and dropped his hand. She could do so much better than him. He hated how the thought still struck him as often as it did. She was so much more than a second thought at the end of the day or a lazy fuck. She deserved to be worshipped like an artist to his canvas or like the stars to the night sky. She deserved to be cherished and caressed until her skin was almost rubbed raw.

He was pulled from his thoughts when she jolted awake.

He glanced down at her before she sat up and clutched at her chest as a few whimpers left her mouth. He quickly sat up and placed a hand on the lower part of her back. She turned to him and he saw a brief look of relief in her eyes at the sight of him.

She nodded in thanks even as a harsh breath escaped her lips. They remained sitting up for what seemed like hours but finally she sank back down and stretched out on the right side of the bed. She turned on her side to face him.

He laid down and looked at her. Really looked at her.

He reached over and framed her face in his hands as he murmured to her that she was safe. Without really thinking about it, he started to hum the song he hummed to Octavia whenever she needed to be pulled away from the thoughts in her head.

He stroked her face with his index finger until her breathing evened out. He took his own breath of relief.

"Octavia did the same thing earlier." Her eyes were bright and blue. He felt slightly embarrassed but continued to stroke her face. "What song is it?"

"Dream a Little Dream of Me." He thought briefly of the first time he had heard the song. The memory was quite vivid despite how young he was. His mother was singing and dancing around in the kitchen with Octavia perched up on her hip. He recalls it being one of the only memories of his mother holding his sister.

"It's nice." Her voice was soft and he imagined it would be the same sound that velvet would have.

They stared at one another in silence. Their faces were so close. He thought about the last time they were this close. He thought about the look on her face when she had seen him with some random girl in his living room. He shook his head. "Clarke about-."

"How did you get this?" She changed the subject. Her finger brushing lightly against the jagged raised skin above his lip.

His skin burned beneath her finger. His heartbeat quickened and his eyes continued to stare into hers. She must have gotten embarrassed because she quickly pulled her finger away. He missed the feel of her. "I don't know. It's always been there."

She nodded and brought her hand so it was tucked under her own face. She looked so small and vulnerable. "Mine are so ugly." Her voice was softer than before and she seemed to choke up on the word ugly. She glanced at him before she slowly sat up. She fidgeted slightly before she grabbed the hem of one of Octavia's old long sleeved shirts played with the frayed edges. "I'm sure you saw."

He tilted his head and sat up again. "Saw what?"

She seemed shocked with his question. He had asked Octavia to change her out of her wet clothes and without saying that to her, he saw the realization wash over her face.

She toyed with the end of the shirt for a few more moments before she slowly started to lift it up and over her head.

He swallowed at the sight of her breasts covered in white cotton before his eyes focused on the rest of her. The skin on her arms and her right side were darker than the rest of her pale skin. His eyes continued to rack up and across her skin before they came back and landed on her face. She was looking out his window with her teeth tucked into her bottom lip.

She turned her head and looked at him. He decided then that he never saw anything as beautiful as her.

"Hideous, isn't it?" She tried to keep eye contact but she looked away. He noticed then that she was trembling.

He reached over and cupped her face. He slowly turned her head back toward his. "No." His voice was softer than hers was. He watched her eyes widen. He continued to cup her face and realized the hand that wasn't holding her face was trembling. "You're so beautiful, Clarke." His voice was even softer. "So beautiful."

He hesitantly leaned down and brought his lips toward her upper bicep. He lightly pressed his lips against her skin and pulled away. Her eyes were wide and her lips were slightly parted. He leaned across and kissed her opposing bicep.

When he pulled away again he quickly pulled her down so she was lying against him. She was completely still before she fell into his embrace. He couldn't recall really except for the last time they were like this that he wanted to lay in bed with a girl. Not fuck and lay in post-bliss but just lay and feel someone's heartbeat against his own.

Well not just someone. Her.

He ran his fingers across her shoulder. He felt her breath against his neck again. "I'm sorry." His voice was stronger than before. He tilted his head down and saw her looking up at him. By the nod of her head and the hesitant kiss to his neck, he figured she understood all he was apologizing for.

He fell asleep sometime around four in the morning and his heart wasn't as heavy.

…

He woke up to the sound of muffled laughter.

He groaned softly and reached beside him to find the spot empty. His eyes shot open and he blinked heavily to wash away the remaining cloud of sleep from them. He sat up with a yawn and placed his feet onto the ground.

He stood up and stretched before he followed the sound of laughter from down the hall. He was rubbing his eyes when he padded into the kitchen.

His sister was giggling from a spot at the small table as the blonde who made his heart clench, stood before the stove. He turned his attention back toward his sister. Her blue eyes were twinkling with laughter and her smile was so large; he wasn't sure the last time he saw her smile so wide.

She turned her head and smiled briefly at him. He still thought of the words he had spoken to her days ago. Such cruel and harsh words. He hadn't even meant them but she hadn't given him a change to take them back. Last night she had helped him carry the blonde currently giggling from his stove toward his room and they had a small chat in the kitchen but that was it.

He missed her.

He turned his head when Clarke spun around toward him. Her nose was covered in flour and her smile was just as wide as Octavia's was. She was back in her long sleeve shirt but she seemed to lighter around him. "Hi."

He smiled at the sight of her. "Hi."

She let out a small laugh. "I was trying to make you guys breakfast but it's not my best attribute."

"Not your best?" Octavia's voice chipped in. "Check the garbage, Bell."

He smirked slightly as he peeked under the sink cabinet to see the garbage almost full of what he assumed to be pancakes. He shook his head as he closed the door and smiled at her. "Step aside, princess."

She narrowed her eyes at the nickname but held out the spatula to him anyway. He watched as she tugged on the ends of her shirt as she stood next to him. He wondered if she was thinking about last night.

He turned his head toward her and poured the batter onto the pan in a swirl pattern until it became a full circle. He pointed toward the batter. "Now, the trick is to wait until it bubbles."

Her head tilted as she stared at the circle. He let out a small chuckle at her intense concentration before he glanced behind him and saw Octavia smiling at him with a smile. It wasn't as large as it was earlier but it wasn't the one she gave him when he first walked into the kitchen. He smiled and watched her stand up, making her way to grab plates and utensils from beside him. It was strange how much this domestic situation was making him feel so many things.

He turned back toward the pan and noticed the bubbles on the side. He turned toward the blonde beside him. "See?" He placed the spatula under the battered circle and flipped it so the crisp golden side was in view.

"Yeah, yeah. You're good at another thing. Let me add it to the list."

He chuckled and so did Octavia. He gently pulled Clarke toward him and had her stand between him and the stove. She took a deep breath as he placed the golden pancake onto the plate beside them before pouring out more batter. He took her hand and placed the spatula into it. "You try."

She let out a nervous laugh. He wondered if it was because of him. "You saw me try."

"Nah." He stood behind her and watched her more than the pan. Her eyes were focused intently on the pan and her lip was tucked beneath her teeth. He saw the circle start to bubble and watched her stick her tongue out as she flipped it over a few seconds later. It was perfectly golden.

She let out a yelp and started to laugh as she turned toward him. Her smile was wide. "I did it!"

He was pretty sure the other side was starting to burn but he didn't even care. He laughed and kissed the side of her head with a smile on his face. She smiled with her teeth as she turned around and flipped the pancake onto the plate. It was a bit darker than the other side but she smiled anyway.

She stepped aside and handed him the spatula. He shook his head and took is as he continued to make breakfast. As he turned the stove off and started to take the plate toward the table, he saw his sister give him a weary glance. He narrowed his eyes.

Octavia sat up and pushed a piece of dark hair behind her ear. "I invited Lincoln for breakfast. He was dropping Clarke's car off so I thought I might as well let him eat." She quickly turned her head away and looked at the blonde across from her. "Your car is fine, by the way. Lincoln took a look at it and you should be all set."

He turned his head and watched Clarke nod as she looked down at the table. "Oh, okay." She paused. "How much does he need for looking at it?"

Octavia shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

He saw Clarke start to open her mouth but his sister shook her head with a smile before turning toward him. He didn't know anything about this Lincoln guy but he couldn't really say no. He had helped his sister and he had helped Clarke. He was about to ask when their newfound guest was coming when there was a knock on the door.

He slowly took his seat as he watched Octavia spring up from hers. He turned his attention toward Clarke who was staring at the table. Her smile was gone and her eyes were focused on the table. He scooted his chair closer toward hers (he told himself it was to make room for Lincoln but he knew it wasn't true). He reached over and placed his hand onto her knee.

She turned her head and smiled at him softly before she placed her hand on top of his. It was strange how different their hands were. To him, his hands caused so much destruction. They've been beaten up, bloody and calloused. Her hands though, her hands were so soft that it almost hurt to feel them. They were smooth and pale and the total opposite of his. Despite these differences, they seemed to fit together. The groves of her perfect hand fit perfectly in his.

He wanted to stare at their hands for longer but there was a sound of someone clearing their throat. He glanced up and his sister standing next to a large, dark-skinned man. He nodded and so did the man across from him.

He watched his sister smile and pull up another chair as they all made room around the small circular table. It might not be much to anyone else but the moment was perfect for him.

…

He walked back into his room to see her wearing the clothes from last night.

Her hair was braided (Octavia has insisted after breakfast to braid her hair) and her eyes reminded him of the sea. She was currently pacing around his room with her phone in her hands.

"Everything okay?"

Her head shoot toward him and she offered him a sheepish smile as she nodded. "I just talked to my mom."

He didn't know much about her mother but he didn't think he would like her that much. Then again, he figured people thought the same about him.

He took a spot on his bed and he watched her hit her palm with her hand. "Did she ask where you were?"

She had a distant look on her face before she shook her head, laughing briefly as she did so. "No. She wanted me to remember about some dinner party we're going to tonight."

He definitely didn't like her mother. "Are you going to tell her what happened?"

Her eyes grew sad at that, turning an even darker blue before him. She shook her head again and he didn't feel like pressing her about it. He wanted to see her smile again, though. So, he held out his hand and pulled on her dress until she was before him. She tilted her head and looked at him. "Feeling adventurous?"

She looked scared for a moment before she nodded slowly. He grinned and stood up, grabbing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He told her to stay put as he took a quick shower and changed.

Without telling her where they were going, he dragged her out of his room and out of his apartment after telling Octavia he would be back later (he tried not to think about leaving his sister and her boyfriend alone in their apartment).

He heard her laugh as he pulled her quickly down the steps and toward his car. He relished in the sound.

He quickly opened her door before running over toward his side. He heard the laughter on her lips die down as he started the car. "So where are you taking me?"

"You'll see."

She seemed to accept the answer as he drove them away from his apartment. Her head popped around to the song on the radio and he heard her softly murmur some lyrics underneath her lips. She placed her feet onto the dashboard when she realized they were driving longer than a few miles away.

The sun was bright when he pulled up to a beach his mother used to take him and Octavia too. He turned the car off and watched as she slowly lowered her feet. She reached for the handle and quickly slid out of the car, he did as well.

She slipped off her shoes and held them in her hands as they walked toward the water. He took in the sight before making his way toward her. The sun made her hair shine brighter than anything he's seen before. Her dark blue cardigan flew around her, as did the skirt of her dress. She looked like something artists worked so hard to capture. He had to remind himself to breath as he made his way toward her.

She placed her feet where the water kissed the shore and smiled up toward the sky before she turned toward him. "I used to do this with my dad." She turned her attention back toward her feet. "We'd call it sinking." He watched the water push sand and rocks over her feet. "We would sink for hours and hours. I used to get so sunburnt."

He found himself kicking off his shoes and rolled up his jeans a bit as he joined her. The water was cold against his skin but it wasn't the kind that made you flinch, just the kind that you would find comfort in. They didn't really talk after that, at least not with words. They sank in the sand for awhile before they started to walk down the shore. She would stop every few feet and pick up pieces of sea glass. She smiled at every piece.

They were far from the car by the time they sat down on the sand facing the sea. She placed her sea glass beside her and started tracing patterns in the sand.

He stared at her and cleared his throat as he looked out at the water. He thought about the scar he had on the inside compared to the scars that danced around her skin. She had shared hers and despite his natural thought of keeping everything to himself, he wanted to share something with her.

He kept his eyes on the water as he spoke. "It's been Octavia and me for as long as I can remember. Our dad bailed and my mom couldn't handle it." He watched seagulls swim across the top of the water. "I tried everything I could to make her feel loved because of it but parents fuck you up, you know?" He didn't wait for her to answer his question before he spoke again. "She got everything from my mom. Her looks, her heart, her bipolar disorder."

"Bellamy." She had that tone that everyone got but it was different. She wasn't judging him. Her voice was soft and there was so much care in her tone that he wanted to run away from it but he didn't.

He continued to look at the water. "I try so hard to be there for her but it's hard sometimes and she hates how protective I am but I can't help it." He finally turned toward her. "She's all I have."

She was offering him a sad smile before she reached over and held his hand. "You're doing a great job." She squeezed his hand. "You can't beat yourself up over things you can't control."

He didn't let go of her hand. "I know that." He glanced back at the water. "I said some pretty shitty stuff to her, though. Stuff I can't take back." She didn't press him on it or ask what but he told her anyway. He found himself mumbling about how his lost his job at the garage and how he was so wound up over thinking about it, that he has lashed out onto the only person he was certain he loved.

She didn't tell him what to do or comment on what he had done. She squeezed his hand and stayed right next to him.

His chest felt lighter. Finally he turned toward her and watched the hair around her face fly around from the breeze. "Thank you."

She turned her head in the most adorable way that he almost kissed her then. "For what?"

He shrugged and smiled softly at her. "For coming here with me. For listening."

She smiled softly at him before she scooted over and placed her head onto his shoulder. They didn't say anything else.

…

It was around one in the morning when he got off work.

He yawned as he opened the door to his apartment. He flicked on the light and headed toward the fridge. He smiled briefly at the wrapped plate in the fridge. He quickly pulled it out and took off the plastic wrap before placing the meal into the microwave. He was unbuttoning his shirt when he saw the familiar head of hair sit up from the couch with a yawn. He quickly stopped the microwave. "O?"

She nodded before she sat up. She was wrapped up in her comforter. She hadn't waited up for him to come home from work in such a long time. "You're home late."

He nodded. "Go back to sleep."

She stood still and looked up at him. The sleep in her eyes fading away with every passing second. "I'm fine." She gestured toward the microwave as she headed toward the fridge, pulling out the milk.

She grabbed two cups and filled them before she sat at the table. He warmed up his lasagna once again before he sat across from her. He ate slowly as he watched her trace patterns on the table. He thought back to his afternoon when Clarke had done the same thing in the sand.

He thought about the words he had spoken to Clarke. He thought about the words he had said to his sister.

He pushed his food to the side and watched her head tilt in confusion as she remained wrapped up in her comforter. He let out a breath and reached hesitantly for her. She didn't think as she reached her hand toward his.

He let out a sigh as her fingers wrapped around his. "Did something happen at work?" He shook his head. "Are you alright?"

He nodded softly as he gripped her hand tightly in his own. This was his family. This was the person who knew all of his secrets, knew all of his demons and still looked up at him like he was a hero.

He always wanted to be the hero for her. He always wanted to be there for her. He would protect her from anything even if sometimes he had to protect her from himself.

"Bellamy?"

He looked at her and saw her entire lift flash before his eyes. He saw her smiling at her third birthday. He saw her crying into her hands when she was eight. He saw her dancing around the living room when she was fifteen. He saw her face when he told her his life ended the day she was born.

"I told you my life ended the day you were born." He watched her eyes turn toward the table. "Truth is, my life didn't start until then." Her eyes slowly lifted toward his. "I'm sorry I made you think differently."

She nodded and stood up. She quickly threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "I love you, Bellamy." Her voice was like a whisper.

He squeezed her back and whispered the words back to her. "Get some sleep, alright?"

"You too." She hugged him once more before she pulled away. She wrapped herself tighter in her comforter before she reached over and kissed his forehead. She smiled at him once more before she padded to her room.

He smiled into the food before him. It was still cold but he didn't care.