Love the life you live. Live the life you love. - Bob Marley
"I'm glad you have some confidence in my abilities," Bellamy scoffed, staying close by her as they walked. The main avenue was sparsely lit with fading neon and glowing dull blue streetlamps. Bellamy could hear the various voices of people occupying alleys and overhanging buildings and smelled the rancid stench of bile and urine.
"I'm just glad you aren't the moronic brute I assumed you to be," Clarke smirked, pulling her collar closer around her neck. It wasn't cold but a cool breeze had wafted over them and caused a chill to run up Clarke's spine.
"You shouldn't make assumptions about people, Clarke," Bellamy smirked, moving with her up the avenue past the barred and gated windows and doors. "Besides, I think you'll really start to like me soon. You barely know me and I'd like to change that."
"Then tell me about Bellamy Blake," Clarke insisted, glancing up at him. "Tell me something I don't already know."
"Something you don't know?" Bellamy asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. "It would help if I knew what you already know."
"I know quite a lot," Clarke nodded, stepping closer to Bellamy as a couple of people emerged from one of the smaller side alleys. Bellamy immediately put his good arm around her waist, pulling her closer as they walked, silently passing the two people who were arguing about some sort of apartment.
"Don't worry," Bellamy assured, glancing down at her as they kept walking. "I've got a gun and a short-sword on me."
"That you shouldn't use, even with your good arm. Besides, I'm not worried about us," Clarke snapped, walking a little faster. "I don't want to see a repeat of last week so let's just get out of here."
"I see," Bellamy nodded, keeping his arm around her as they walked. "I know you don't approve but in the spirit of honesty, I should probably tell you that the arena and battle are my passion. Even as a child, all I wanted to do was fight in the arena."
"That's something I already knew," she replied, her voice soft and arms crossed over her stomach as they walked. She could feel Bellamy's arm encircling her but he never touched her, gently framing her body in case of an attacker. She didn't feel entirely uncomfortable being this close to him but she was curious about why he was acting so protective. She wondered if she seemed that pathetic and helpless to him.
"You've done quite a bit of research if you know that much," Bellamy smiled, nodding at her.
"It's kind of obvious," Clarke whispered, glancing sideways at him. "I saw it in your eyes during our first encounter in the arena."
"Fighting, to me, is more of an art-form," Bellamy reasoned, a smile on his face as he stared straight ahead, his hand grazing her jacket as they walked. "It's also a great workout."
"I won't ever understand it," Clarke sighed, glancing up at the sky. "Maybe it is just human nature to crave bloodshed."
"Our ancestors fought many wars and battles," Bellamy offered, glancing up at the sky as well, his eyes continuously scanning the road ahead as they approached the hill leading up to the market square. "Centuries of war before and after the existence of the Ark." Bellamy then chuckled, making Clarke look up at him curiously. He noticed her gaze and smiled, looking back up at the sky. "I sometimes wonder," he drawled, pointing at the sky with his index finger. "What it would be like to see the earth from the Ark."
"Me too," Clarke admitted slowly, a sheepish grin on her face. "To see the entire world laid out before your feet must have been a humbling sight."
"Maybe when Raven figures out how to send us back up there, we'll get our chance," Bellamy chuckled, making Clarke genuinely smile for the first time that night.
"She and Finn have always talked about returning to space," Clarke chuckled, looking directly up at him. "Maybe one day we can."
"Octavia would love that," Bellamy nodded, motioning for her to follow him. He escorted her down a side street that ran along the hill and down toward the lake. They could both see the trees swaying in the breeze and the twinkle of the pond as the moonlight danced over it in the distance. Clarke tried to stay beside Bellamy, the small winding alley lined with crates, cages, stalls, and bars making it difficult to maintain pace. Bellamy had pulled ahead of her a few steps and was navigating easily around the puddles and discarded trash and crates, almost disappearing into the darkness ahead of them. Clarke could feel a little uneasy now, unable to fully see Bellamy in front of her. She immediately picked up the pace but stumbled clumsily over a crate, reaching her hand out to catch herself on the wall.
Before she had the opportunity to touch the wall, she felt Bellamy's arm wrap around her, pulling her close so she could regain her balance. She immediately flushed, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was Bellamy. His soft and plush tunic felt warm on her face as she inhaled steadily, pine and an earthy musk throwing all her other senses off. Bellamy didn't move either, standing still so she could regain her balance before stepping back as she pushed him away.
"I don't have the longest legs," Clarke commented, her voice a mixture between mumbling and berating. "And this alley is so dark."
"I've got you, princess," he chuckled, offering her his hand. She could barely see it but before she had time to react, he had laced his fingers with hers. She could feel the warmth emanating from his palm as he held her hand gently in his. It was almost unreal how coarse, but welcoming, his grip was. Clarke didn't bother to pull away from him as he continued to lead her up the street. It was when they emerged, at the edge of the final avenue before the park, that Clarke could see clearly again. The streetlights lining this avenue were always brightest, showcasing Arkadia's natural beauty. Clarke always loved to come here as a girl, riding her favorite horse with her grandfather.
What she didn't expect to see what a guitarist, sitting on one of the park benches just outside the gates. He was strumming whimsically, his tune echoing about them as they approached. Clarke didn't even realize that they were still holding hands until the guitarist spotted them and began playing a slower, more rhythmic tune. Bellamy let go of her hand now and pulled out a silver coin from his pocket, throwing it in the roughly hewn case sitting next to the man. He just nodded, his dark hair falling over his forehead as he strummed on.
"You want to answer a question for me?" Bellamy asked, turning to Clarke as they approached another empty bench underneath an overhanging tree further down the street.
"Only if you answer one of mine," Clarke retorted, her eyes not meeting his.
"That's fair," Bellamy commented, motioning for her to sit on the bench. She did so promptly, almost mechanically, a little uneasy around him still. She had become very aware of her discomfort when he'd let go of her hand and she couldn't help the questions that arose because of it. Bellamy, however, was quite relaxed, leaning back against the bench and allowing the leaves above to shadow his face.
"What's your question?" Clarke finally asked, breaking the momentary silence as the distant tune of the guitar played on.
"Ladies first," Bellamy nodded, watching her as she slowly relaxed into the bench, keeping a modest distance between them.
"What is the real reason you want me to choose you?" Clarke asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. "What's your real endgame?"
"I don't think you'll like my answer," Bellamy admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. "But it is a fair question that deserves a thorough answer."
"It deserves an honest answer," Clarke warned, challenging him. "I don't want lies and excuses."
"Fine, I want you to choose me for three key reasons," Bellamy retorted, his voice commanding but still calm. "Firstly, because I'm in a tight bind, the same as you. My father is intent on ending my bachelor days and ensuring a powerful match too. I have two options; marry an Arkadian princess," he nodded, looking directly at her as she turned to face him fully. "Or an Azgeda princess."
"Azgeda?" Clarke hissed, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You would give Arkadia to Azgeda?"
"Secondly," he continued, making her eyes go wide at his dismissal of her fury. "Because I am the only one in Arkadia who can give you what you need." He smirked at this, making her brow furrow as she turned away, cheeks tinting red. "I have what you need on the council, in society, and I can give you what you need for your own selfish reasons." He winked at her as she glared back at him, the outrage of such innuendo equally enticing as it was repulsive. "Maybe I didn't understand it before but your plans for a peaceful Arkadia is the kind of thinking that builds empires."
"That wasn't my initial plan," Clarke spat, making him smile. "We shouldn't be fighting anyone for the right to live in this world. By rights, we should be developing the world for the better."
"And finally," Bellamy sighed, moving a little closer, making her look up at him. "Because you are the most confusing, unpredictable, and stunning person I have ever met. I never know what to expect from you and yet, every time you speak, every time you look at me, I'm surprised. You have matched and bested me in almost every way but instead of being envious and hating you, I want to marry you."
"How can I believe a word you've said?" Clarke asked, eyes wide as she moved away from him again, sitting on the edge of the bench. The trees rustled above them in the breeze and the guitar had faded with it. She only glared back at him, her shoulders squared and her jaw set. She couldn't really see his face in the shadow of the tree but somehow, she knew, he was smiling.
"Why would I make any of that up?" Bellamy asked, moving to the edge of the bench as well, his good hand gripping the lip of the seat. "Why would I lie when I've made it clear that I'm interested in a match?"
"To confuse me," Clarke reasoned. "To humiliate me, to manipulate me…"
"Possible," Bellamy nodded, glancing over at her. "But I told you that you wouldn't like my answer."
"Why can I never figure out what you're truly thinking?" Clarke almost whined, making Bellamy perk up, looking entirely entranced. "Why are you the only one I can't figure out? Why? It's like a puzzle that never seems to end; every time I think I've figured it out, it slips away!" She was waving her hands, clenching her fist, and unhinging in front of Bellamy. She wasn't completely uncontrollable but he could see the frustration and helplessness that slowly started to engulf her.
"You think I don't feel the same way?" Bellamy asked, trying to distract her from completely imploding. "I never know what you're thinking, what you'll do, what you'll say… it's all new to me. I am constantly trying to figure out how to understand you, how to get you to like me, even just a little bit and for some reason, I keep running into a brick wall."
"But your entire family isn't depending on you to make a match to produce the only remaining Griffin heir in the entire world," Clarke snapped, looking back up at him incredulously. "You're not being forced to set aside your heart to protect your family. You couldn't possibly understand what it is like to be me."
"You're right," Bellamy assured, not looking away from her. "Sixteen is too young an age to make decisions concerning the heart, let alone the kinds of decisions you'll have to make as the last of your family."
"Don't patronize me," Clarke said, her voice a mixture of pleading and irritation. "You're not that much older than me."
"I'm not patronizing you" he chuckled, making her grimace slightly. "I'm sincerely sympathizing with you. It's entirely unfair."
"I can't tell if your joking or sincere anymore," Clarke groaned, shaking her head. "This is just a horrible mess. Look at us, plotting and scheming and clamoring to climb the ladder that our fathers built. Sometimes, I just want to push him off his high horse for getting me into all this chaos." Her voice had grown harsher and Bellamy could see the fury in her eyes, the way her hands balled into a fist.
"You really hate him for all of this, don't you?"
"I love him but it's his fault I have to do all this," she fumed, her voice becoming even more heated as she spoke. "He's the one who insists that I choose a suitor before I become involved with the embassy. I don't suppose you know how hard it is to make a difference when you have absolutely no influence?"
"Not really," Bellamy remarked, his voice softer than he'd intended. Clarke noticed, eying him curiously before he continued. "My father brought me into his dealings three years ago, and every step I take into that world pulls me further from this one. Having that kind of power changes people; maybe he's just looking out for you?"
"If that were the case he wouldn't keep me in the dark," she replied, her face a little flushed. "Besides, he obviously doesn't want me interfering with whatever plans he's pulled together. He's probably just keeping me distracted until he can complete them. I sometimes wonder about him and the burden he carries; he has to be tired."
"If I were him, that's what I would do," Bellamy offered, a wicked grin on his face. "If my daughter was half as fiery, stubborn, and indignant as you, I'd lock her away."
"He's never once had reason to doubt me," Clarke confessed, eyeing him closely. "And I can't imagine your kids being anything less than fiery, stubborn, and indignant…"
"As long as they loved me," Bellamy chuckled, looking up at the sky. "Four boys and three girls…" He then glanced back at Clarke, catching her eye as he spoke. "How many kids do you want?"
She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks, looking away from him as she bit her lip and stared back over the gardens. It wasn't an odd question but she'd never considered a real number. She'd never had a brother or a sister and couldn't imagine having only one child but, with the way her family's lineage had been producing, she'd be lucky if she had a child at all. She could hear his soft breathing next to her and could feel his eyes on her face as she sat there, trying to wrap her mind around a logical number.
"My family hasn't produced many heirs in the past three generations," Clarke said, not looking back at him. "I'd be lucky to have one, let alone six or seven."
"So, you want a big family?" he asked and she could feel his curiosity.
"Maybe one day," she whispered, making him pause. "Or maybe not at all. I can't really speak for my uterus."
"Well, I think you'd be a great mom," Bellamy commented, making Clarke look directly into his eyes, not realizing that he was sitting closer than before. She could see the way he looked over her face, taking in every feature before analyzing the rest of her. It made her feel warm and that familiar feeling from earlier that night had returned. It was a mixture of excitement, expectation, and yearning that made her blush when he didn't look away. She was hoping he couldn't see these feelings she was fighting with but she doubted she could escape him. He was particularly stubborn and attentive when it came to something like this.
"I would honestly have no clue what to do," she replied, her eyes still locked with his, unable to look away now. She was taking in every line, every wrinkle, and every dimple of his face, memorizing the tiniest of freckles and gold flakes that powdered his black eyes. She refused to look away though, unwilling to concede to embarrassment.
"You're a doctor," he whispered, making her glance down at his lips. Her eyes lingered there a bit longer than she intended and when she looked back up into his eyes, she could see that they'd deepened, the same yearning she was feeling reflected back at her. "You just have that instinct," he pressed on, his breath hitching when she bit her bottom lip again. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically as she mulled over his words, the irresistible way she unconsciously licked her lips nearly sending Bellamy over the edge.
"Probably," was all she replied, completely entranced by the softness in his eyes and the way he smirked down at her. It was as if he could read her mind and as they gravitated together, she could feel the heat from his body yet again engulfing her. It wasn't unpleasant, his knees intertwined with hers as he finally faced her full on. He gently ran the back of his hand along her cheek and before she could stop herself, she let out a surprised breath, making him smile even wider.
"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, watching her cheeks flush bright red.
"You're such an ass-" she breathed, not even trying to sound offended. She didn't really care anymore, staring up at the curly haired man in front of her. Had he always had such a cute dimple in his chin? And were his eyes always so entrancing? Clarke couldn't help herself and before she'd realized it, he'd wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her close. His lips were pressed to the hollow of her neck and his breath was hot against her skin as she spoke.
"You're absolutely intoxicating," he admitted, his lips grazing the soft crevice between her neck and collar. "You smell like honey too." Before she could respond his tongue darted out and gently flicked against her neck, making her see stars for the briefest of moments. She couldn't control her actions at this point, letting out a soft gasp and a long groan as he kissed her neck again. "You taste like honey too," he mumbled, his lips sending chills along her spine and into her stomach, making it almost float. She'd never felt this before and the sensations made her head swim; she couldn't bring herself to protest as the hand around her hips gently squeezed and then trailed upward, making goosebumps rise on all over. She almost jumped when she felt his fingertips grazing the curve of her stomach, over her jacket to trace their way up toward her torso. She instinctively grasped at his shirt when she heard the soft breathy chuckle on her neck.
"You seem to be enjoying this," he whispered in her ear, the way he said it making her close her eyes as he kissed her jaw, just below her earlobe. His thumb was slowly tracing circles on her upper arm as he ran the fingertips over the fabric of her coat to her collar. He gently grazed the soft skin underneath and could see her visibly shiver; the way she reacted to his every touch was hypnotizing. Before he could control himself, he'd ran his fingertips all the way up, back over her shoulder, and weaved them into her curly blonde hair. Her eyes popped open at this but that didn't stop him; he didn't really have time to think. He just knew that he wanted to feel those soft pink lips, that had been gasping and mewling helplessly, on his.
Clarke felt his lips crash into hers, the intensity and desperate need overwhelming her, making her clutch at his shirt roughly. He held onto her hair with his uninjured hand tightly, pulling his other arm through the sling to wrap gingerly around her waist. She was reveling in how warm and soft the kiss was, pushing her hand gently up his neck, grasping his curls roughly. He must have enjoyed that because his fingers floated down to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as he flicked his tongue over her bottom lip. She didn't hesitate, didn't allow him to stop as she mirrored his ferocity, flicking her own tongue over his lips to tease and taste him. To her surprise, and delight, their tongues met and she let out a soft moan, causing him to smirk against her lips. She was mildly amused by the way his lips felt against hers and cautiously nibbled on his lower one, causing him to growl into her mouth as he pressed further.
He felt like he was on fire, unable to fully engulf himself within her warmth because of his damn shoulder, eagerly pulling her closer. His other hand held her head as she gently, but desperately, grasped his hair. He loved that, the way she pulled on it, running her other hand up over his chest and gently squeezing the collar of his shirt. She was ravenous and he didn't mind one bit, the taste of her lips and the soft mischievousness of her tongue sending chills down his spine. He wanted to throw this sling off completely, pull her onto his lap, and never let this kiss end, hungry to see what she'd do once he had her so close. He could feel the heated rise and fall of her chest as he languidly rolled his tongue against hers, trailing down her jaw and over her neck eliciting soft gasps and sudden exhales. It was when his hand had found the zipper of her jacket that he froze, mesmerized by the gentle way her fingers threaded through his curls and caressed his enflamed skin. Before he could capture her mouth again she'd pulled away, her face crimson red and breathing fast. She looked flushed and a little embarrassed but when he pulled away she met his eyes and Bellamy almost felt his heart stop.
"S-sorry," was all she managed to say, her lips still swollen from his eager ministrations. Her eyes, which had remained on his, were swimming with emotion and a desperate need to make sense of what just happened. He couldn't help but smile at this, his hand still gently resting on the back of her neck as he took in the sight in front of him. He'd never seen anything more tempting, or beautiful, and immediately brought his injured hand up to push her hair back from her eyes. She just watched him silently, observing his every move, the emotion in her eyes making Bellamy wonder what she was thinking about.
"You don't need to apologize," he replied, still leaning close to her, his thumb gently caressing the junction between her ear and neck. "It was quite good, actually."
"I shouldn't have done that," she replied, looking down at her hands which had dropped from his hair and neck to her lap.
"Why?" Bellamy asked, a soft smile on his face as he looked at her blushing cheeks. "I thought it was going really well."
She glanced up at him now, her eyes a mixture of wonder, irritation, and lust. "You know why," she whispered, her voice soft but steady as she pushed away the hand that was on her face. "I don't just throw myself at anyone."
"So, I'm just anyone now?" Bellamy asked, a smirk spreading over his face as his fingertips gently released her neck. He trailed his hand down her back, resting his arm around her waist as his hand gently squeezed her hip, making her bite her bottom lip to quell whatever noise she was about to make. It was then that her eyes looked away from him, back over the street in front of them. regret pooling where lust had once been. "And here I thought I was special."
"Don't tease me," she replied, her voice becoming icier as she stared out over the clean and neatly ordered apartments overlooking the park. "I don't like being played with."
"I'm not playing," Bellamy returned, making her look at him again with a doubtful stare. "You don't have to believe me but for once, I'm telling you the truth. I'm not playing games or teasing you. I'm seriously interested; maybe that isn't what you need to hear right now but I might as well be blunt."
"You infuriate me," Clarke offered up, her voice shaky. "How can I believe anything you say when it comes to this? You'd do anything to secure a marriage, even lie about your own feelings."
"This was no lie," he sighed, sliding his hand around to the small of her back, feeling the shiver that ran up her spine. She stared up at him defiantly, his other hand coming up to hold her chin as she looked into his eyes. "I genuinely have feelings for you. I don't know how it happened and I can't explain it but the thought of you with anyone else sets me on fire. The idea of you loving someone else, smiling at someone else, even considering someone else drives me insane."
"That's jealousy," Clarke said, not looking away from him once. "That is obsession and pride talking; you just can't stand the idea of losing. After all, you're a fighter and a warrior; victory is all you want." Her voice was cold, edgy as she spoke and Bellamy felt a little twinge of guilt building inside his chest. How could she possibly know anything about him? He'd never given her a serious chance.
"I want a lot of things," Bellamy offered up, another smile spreading over his face. "I want my family to be safe, our people to prosper, and our lives to become less complicated. I want a nice cozy house, a family of my own, and friends to share my happiness with. I want to fight in the arena and war, to defend all the people that I care for. I need to feel passion and excitement but I also want a woman by my side who is equal to the task. I want someone fearless, stubborn, ferocious, and loving to call my partner without any regret or hesitation."
Clarke was staring at him thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing as his palm spread out gently over her lower back making goosebumps rise again. She didn't want to admit that she loved the feel of his hands on her, his hot breath in her ear, and the soft caress of his smirk. It was infuriating, feeling this bubbling and turning feeling in her stomach, the heated flush of her skin making her feel light headed, somewhat dizzy. She couldn't just sit there, wrapped in his arms, allowing him to say and do as he pleased. This wasn't like her at all but the harder she fought it, the stronger the urges became. She didn't want to care about how he felt, didn't want to even consider the consequences of her weakness. She had once again let her desires get the best of her but this time it was with someone she knew she couldn't trust.
"I just can't trust you," she finally whispered, placing one of her hands on his good shoulder now. She leaned toward him slightly so that he could only look into her eyes as she spoke, desperately trying to make him understand. "No matter how many promises, kind words, or gentle caresses you give, I could never believe that you truly cared. I already know you'd never consider my family's needs over your own; don't you understand? I am the last remaining heiress, the princess, and my family legacy might die with me if I make the wrong choice."
Bellamy was caught by her eyes, the desperate way they searched his making the arm around her waist tighten. Clarke's strong resolve, the intensity of her spirit, was pouring out to him and Bellamy wanted to feel it all. He wanted to see things from her side, understand how she was feeling but the more she spoke, the heavier the disappointment was. She was absolutely right about their situation; no matter how much they may have felt for one another, there would never be trust. He couldn't trust her to become part of his family, to consider his name as her own, any more than she could trust him to give one of his children the Griffin name. The Blake family had finally come to a point where eliminating their hated rival could actually happen; to bring justice to so many family members lost and forgotten. He had the tools he needed but Bellamy had decided to betray seven generations of Blake's by falling in love.
"Clarke," he whispered, their eyes still locked together as he spoke. "I don't know what to do. I really don't; for the first time in my life I'm at a loss for any sort of solution or plan. This situation is…" he wasn't sure how to put it, looking down into her questioning eyes. "Complicated."
"That's why I shouldn't have let it happen," Clarke replied, her voice barely a whisper as she finally looked away from him, dropping her hand from his shoulder. It physically pained Bellamy to see the frustration and disappointment she felt, to watch her silently stare at his chest without any words or reactions, turning over her thoughts in her head with painful thoroughness.
"It isn't your fault, Clarke," he finally breathed, making her stiffen as his hand gently came around from her back to grasp her arm. "You can't blame yourself for something like this, especially when I'm the one who keeps pressuring you…" Bellamy sincerely felt guilty, watching the young woman in front of him struggle so hard to stay above water.
"I should have known better," she said, her voice sharp. "I should have been able to control myself."
"You're a teenage girl who's never been with a guy before," Bellamy chuckled, catching her eye again. "How can you possibly blame yourself?"
"I know that," she replied, her eyes narrowed in irritation as she stared at his chest. "I mean, I blame myself for all of it; I never should have considered you in the first place. It would have saved us both a lot of hassle and time."
"Do you honestly think that's how it works?" Bellamy asked, his voice full of amusement. "That you can just ignore someone and the feelings will go away? You knew from the beginning you'd need my help to realize a peaceful future for Arkadia; why beat yourself up? Not everything fits in a neat little box, princess."
"Allowing myself to consider you was a stupid move, one I never should have let happen," Clarke replied, her voice cool and calculating, her eyes never meeting his. "I could have easily made the safe choice and been content with the security it provides. I could have walked away, refusing to let it get to me because before all of this started, I was perfectly content to avoid you."
"But you're glad you didn't, right?" Bellamy asked, no hint of sarcasm or levity in his voice. He was analyzing her every reaction and when she looked up at him, her eyes said it all; she knew as well as he did that there was no going back to the way things were.
"My options were limited," Clarke confessed, her voice betraying the lie. "I had to befriend you or destroy you and I let optimism make the call."
"You let your heart make the call," Bellamy insisted, her eyes going wide. "You knew from the moment we met there was something there; if you didn't, you wouldn't be here now, talking to me."
"Why couldn't we be anyone else?" Clarke asked, catching him off guard at the sudden question. She was still sitting close to him, her hands in her lap as his uninjured hand slid down her arm and over her side. He wasn't sure how to answer her and she saw the thoughts turning behind those dark eyes of his.
"Oh, be some other name!" Bellamy smiled suddenly, making her eyes go wider. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet." He watched her closely, a soft smile coming back to her lips.
"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title…" she responded, bringing another smile to his face.
"Shakespeare fan as well," he commented, his hand going back up her arm to her neck. It made Clarke quiver a little, the way his smile danced over his face and his eyes roamed over hers. He let out a soft sigh now, pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes as Clarke gently clutched his shoulder again. She took in the soft scent that was Bellamy, feeling his gentle breaths against her lips as they stay like that, trapped in their own world. There were no other sounds, no distractions of any kind; just Bellamy's deep breathing and the warmth of his prescience. It was as if they were the only two people left, both enjoying the relaxing warmth the other provided without any thought of resurfacing. Clarke was the first to come back to reality though, pulling away from him and letting her hand fall back to her lap.
"So, what is this, exactly?" she asked, her voice full of confusion. She needed to know where they stood now. After all that had happened between them just now, she needed to know what this meant, how to keep moving forward. That was all she had at this point; it seemed that no matter where she turned, one problem replaced another and she felt absolutely overwhelmed by this last not-so-unpleasant one. She had clearly stepped over a line she hadn't crossed with anyone else.
She knew what she and Jon were; business partners and friends. It could grow into more but Jon had made it clear that he just wasn't up to the task. After everything that had happened that night, she knew that she could no longer consider Jon as a suitor. What frightened her was that she felt this way about someone who she could genuinely grow to love and trust. She'd felt something for him and didn't want to ignore it because he was completely genuine with her, caring and sincere. Jon could be everything Bellamy wasn't. She also knew what she and Landell were. She'd never have to doubt his trust or loyalty because that is what they'd started out with. It wasn't even an issue for her and he knew that as well. They were both considering marriage and Clarke couldn't have chosen a better man; no one more protective or attentive. He was ideal for Clarke and she felt that with him, she could have the life she'd always wanted. She could have children named Griffin, a home in both the country and city, and a husband who would never betray her trust or love. Even in the short amount of time she'd known Landell, she could see the genuine goodness that radiated from him.
It was only when she saw that Bellamy wasn't looking at her that she felt that warm sensation start to pool inside her stomach. Did she want him to be jealous? Did she hope that he'd fight for her? When Bellamy remained silent, Clarke pressed on, her impatience and frustration coming to the surface. "Well? What is this? I don't understand what this means and I don't know where to go from here. Are we friends? Business partners? Rivals? Where do we draw the line?" She could see the shock and disappointment in his reaction but she chose to ignore it, watching him closely.
"I was telling you the truth," Bellamy replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have feelings for you."
"I can't go there with you," she insisted, her voice a heated whisper. "I won't. I'll be your friend, your partner, and your rival but I won't be your plaything to consider only when it suits you."
"I'd never treat you that way," Bellamy said, his eyes meeting hers again, his hand on her arm gripping gently. "Never," he reiterated, raising his other hand to touch her cheek with his fingertips. "I don't know how to make you believe me but if I have to, I'll spend the rest of my life trying."
"Don't be an idiot," she insisted, making him smirk. "You don't have the rest of your life and you know it. I clearly overstepped here and I don't want to make it any more complicated than it already is."
"It is entirely too late for that," Bellamy smiled, pulling her flush against him again. "This, right here, is complicated but at least it is true. You asked me a question, I gave you an honest answer. A long and passionate answer that, if I'm not mistaken, you enjoyed."
"You had a question," Clarke said tartly, pulling completely away from him and composing herself. "What was it?"
"That's right," Bellamy pondered, watching her face closely. It wasn't that he'd forgotten, he was just hesitant to ask.
"Well?" Clarke asked, glancing over at him as she sat stiffly on the bench now.
"I'm not sure I want to ask you now," Bellamy admitted, making her turn toward him quizzically. He noted the irritation and slight discomfort in her body language and sighed, fixing his arm back in his sling before leaning back onto the bench again.
"What is it?"
"Do you think your father would ever try to assassinate me or my father?" Bellamy asked, the bluntness of his question making Clarke cringe visibly.
"No," she answered, her disbelieving gaze making him chuckled.
"I didn't think so either," Bellamy admitted, nodding his head. "Monty insists it was at your father's orders but I never really pictured him to be a brash or violent man."
"I don't know why Monty hates us so much," Clarke spat, glancing back up the street. "I've never done anything to him."
"No, not you," Bellamy sighed, his voice soft but sharp. "Our great-grandparents and grandparents were the offenders."
"I still don't understand what that has to do with the future, with me and my family," Clarke ground out, looking back at him. "There isn't even a full accounting of the war so no one knows what really started it."
"This isn't the reason I asked you about your father," Bellamy nodded. "My father has uncovered nothing about our attackers. Not even the patrols we sent brought back any evidence. The only thing we know is that they had to of had some sort of technology to cut down those trees and block our way in that short span of time."
"So, you automatically assume it is us?" Clarke asked, her voice even.
"No, I'm trying to get you to lend me some insight," Bellamy pointed, poking her arm gently. "It's no small matter that we were attacked so close to the city."
"The fact that you were attacked at all is a bigger problem than you and I could solve alone," Clarke offered, nodding her head at him as she turned to look back up the dark and empty street. "We need to pool our resources."
"With who, though?"
"Everyone," Clarke nodded. "I can trust that Wells didn't sanction that attack and neither did my father or Thelonious."
"And I can trust that Monty, Jasper, Jon, and Harper are innocent," Bellamy reasoned, looking down at her. "That just leaves the Pike family and the few neutral families."
"You know definitively that they are all loyal?" Clarke asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Their parents, their relations, everyone?"
"No, but how do you know Thelonious and Wells aren't behind it?" Bellamy retorted, his eyes narrowing at her. "Everyone on the council is convinced it was Azgeda which, for someone aware of my father's plans, is a lucky coincidence. It only ruins his plans to form an alliance with Azgeda like he's been pushing."
"Don't tell me that," Clarke shot back. "I didn't know about any of this until tonight. It could literally be anyone else but me."
"So, you're asking me to trust you?" Bellamy quipped, giving her a knowing look. She smirked before shaking her head at him, clearly enjoying the irony.
"I will question my father," Clarke offered, looking up at him. "Find out what he knows. He's never lied to me but that doesn't mean he's told me everything."
"That would be helpful," Bellamy smiled, pretending not to notice the way Clarke's lips twitched as he did.
"I'm horrified that whoever is attempting assassination has other targets on their list," Clarke surmised, wrapping her arms around herself.
"I think you're pretty safe, princess," Bellamy chuckled, making her glance at him sheepishly.
"Not me you idiot," Clarke groaned, nudging him gently. "Octavia."
Bellamy paused at this, watching the blush on her cheeks and the way her mind was racing behind her eyes. She seemed sincerely worried and for a moment, Bellamy felt the insatiable urge to be close to her. He'd never met anyone who was so selfless, so concerned with the welfare of not only a stranger but an enemy. It was amazing and he could see the kindness radiating from her electric blue eyes like the clear waters of the ocean. However, Clarke noticed his observant but astonished gaze and smiled, making the heat in his stomach and chest burn even hotter.
"She's fine," Bellamy replied, his voice distant, almost trance-like. "We're taking every precaution."
"T-that's good," Clarke replied, staggered by the look on his face and the distance in his voice.
"S-sorry," Bellamy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his good hand. "I was just confounded by your concern."
"I can't help it," Clarke admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. "I've never had a sibling and she's entirely innocent…"
"The love you have for her is touching," Bellamy admitted, moving so he was sitting right next to her, barely any space between them as he looked down at her. "Would you protect her?"
"You know I would," Clarke replied, her eyes wide. "I don't have anything against your sister…"
"Then, as a friend, can you make me a promise?" Bellamy asked, looking down at her carefully. Clarke only nodded, enamored by the intensity of his stare. "If things don't work out, can I trust you to protect her from my father's mistakes? From mine?"
"Like she was my own sister," Clarke mused, her voice tentative and quizzical. "Protect her from what, exactly?"
"I told you," Bellamy sighed, pushing himself from the bench and stepping away from her. "My father is committed to a strong match. If it isn't you, it will be Azgeda. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that but it's only fair that you understand my position."
"And I told you, I cannot trust your motives," Clarke sighed, standing next to him. "And I cannot trust Azgeda either. What kind of match do you think you'll have with Azgeda? Do you think the fellow council members will approve of the Blake heir also being Azgeda royalty?"
"It's a smart move, on our end," Bellamy reasoned, his voice remorseful. "Azgeda as an ally would assure that my family could once, and for all, crush their rivals and control every aspect of Arkadia. It's everything my father has worked for and I cannot let it die with me. It's the foundations of a new dynasty."
"How could I ever trust you with that kind of power?" Clarke asked, her eyes wide, her arms crossed over her chest.
"But I trust you," Bellamy nodded, turning to face her fully. "I trust you with all my plans, with all my worries, and with all of my weaknesses, including my sister." Clarke was about to retort but Bellamy had wrapped an arm around her hips, pulling her flush against his chest as he slid his other arm out of the sling. He wrapped it gingerly around her and she froze, not wanting to hurt his shoulder.
"W-what are-?"
"I wanted to hold you, just this once," Bellamy sighed, inhaling deeply as he buried his nose in her blonde ringlets. "I planned on seeing you tonight and convincing you to be mine using every desperate move I could think of but once again, you've surprised me. I knew you could never truly trust me and I didn't care at all until tonight. It seems, without me even realizing it, I was falling for you." He then chuckled and she could feel the soft breath as it tousled her hair.
"This whole time, I was supposed to be making you fall for me," Bellamy laughed, holding her close. "I never expected it to be the other way around."
"Don't say things like that," Clarke warned, her body stiff as he embraced her. She was pressed against his chest and could hear his steady breathing along with his quickened heartbeat. "It isn't a joke to me."
"It isn't a joke," Bellamy sighed, burying his face in her hair entirely. He was baffled by this sensation, this overwhelming weight in his heart as he held her. He wanted to pull her in closer, to be completely enveloped in the warmth that seemed to radiate from her. However, Clarke had placed a hand on his chest and leaned back, looking at him skeptically.
"You don't love me Bellamy," Clarke sighed, placing a hand on his cheek. "You can't love me, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself."
Bellamy only chuckled, bringing his good hand up to push a lock of hair over her ear. "I don't know what I have to do to convince you, Clarke," Bellamy replied, this time moving his hand to trap her palm against his chest. "Don't you feel that? Don't you see it? Who cares about old grudges and social convention when there's love between us?"
"I never said- "
"You didn't have to," Bellamy grinned, his eyes searching hers curiously. "There is something between us, something more than friendship and I won't let you walk away from it so easily."
"You're delusional," Clarke argued, pulling her hand away from his chest. "And I need to get home, as do you. You should have been resting in the first place."
"You'll see," Bellamy reasoned, stepping aside for her to lead the way. He put his arm back in the sling slowly before speaking. "I've always thought we shared many similarities and that was what made you dislike me. You saw my ambition and recognized it in yourself as well but now I know for a fact that it wasn't just that."
"Even if I did love you," Clarke retorted, stalking off down the street, Bellamy close behind. "Your presenting me with an ultimatum! If I don't choose you, your family will forever be aligned with Azgeda, our bitter enemy. If I do choose you, my family will be at the mercy and whim of their bitter rivals! Either way, I cannot win and it is you and your family that has forced me into this corner."
"And you're so confident that I'll mistreat you, that I'll use our children against you and ruin your family?" Bellamy asked, a little louder than he intended.
"Why wouldn't you?" Clarke spat, still sauntering ahead of him up the brightly lit avenue alongside the park. "Why would you and your family take that golden opportunity? I would if I were you!"
"Would you?" Bellamy asked, keeping pace with her now. "You just said you'd protect Octavia yet you're suddenly willing to sell out my entire family. Could you really hurt the family of the man you loved?"
"I told you," Clarke grated, glancing up at him. "I don't love you."
"But you could," Bellamy smiled, crossing the street with a grin. Clarke quickly pursued him, her anger beginning to surface again. "You could grow to love me since, as I've said already, I love you."
"I'm not ready to make that decision," Clarke argued, catching up to him.
"But what other decisions do you have?" Bellamy asked. "Landell is nice and that would protect you from my match with Azgeda but you don't love him. Jon has refused you which leaves Wells. Tell me, do you love Wells instead?"
"I told you not to tease me," she ground out, her voice low and dangerous. He only smiled, glancing back at her as they walked up to the main intersection, leading around Embassy square and into Clarke's neighborhood. "And for someone claiming to love me, you have an odd way of showing it."
"I already told you," Bellamy replied, stopping in front of her which almost made her run into him. "I do love you and I am trying to help you." He then turned around, looking down at her sternly. "Get to know me, come to my home sometime for a meal, go to the orchestra with me or maybe I could convince you to watch an arena match with me. Why can't we try and see where it goes?"
"How could I trust anything you say?" she asked, her tone a mixture of anger and frustration. "How do I know that you're not telling me exactly what I want to hear? How can I trust that you could ever truly have feelings for me when, even now, you force me into a corner and threaten everything that I hold dear?!"
"Because I'm trapped too!" Bellamy growled, stepping closer. "Do you think I want to marry some Azgeda princess? Do you think I want to betray my friends and my people to satisfy my father's lust for more power?"
"It seems like something you'd enjoy," Clarke spat, her eyes narrowed. "A royal title and the military to back you up."
"You really piss me off," Bellamy seethed, turning from her again and walking up the street behind the embassy. "You push me away and defy all reason because, according to your rationale, I can't be trusted. Yet, here you are trying to enforce the same prejudice and distrust that you claim to be so vehemently against."
"Don't lecture me on trust," Clarke ordered, stalking after him. "It wasn't me who tried to force their rival into a corner! It wasn't me who made plans and ultimatums that were only beneficial to himself! It wasn't me who toyed with people's emotions to benefit his family!"
"And it wasn't me who forced you to find a suitor in the first place," Bellamy replied, stopping at the road Clarke lived on. They could both see the large villa on the hill and Clarke could visibly see Bellamy's exhaustion.
"You're right," Clarke replied, turning toward her home. "This is my choice to make and neither you, nor my father, can persuade me otherwise." She then offered her hand, stiffly holding it out for him to take. He looked at it for a moment before staring up at her, his eyebrow raised in disbelief.
"I think we've passed the shaking hands stage," Bellamy drawled, stepping forward quickly and wrapping his good arm around her. She didn't resist, didn't stop his advance as he placed a gentle but lingering kiss on her forehead. "Until we meet again…" he whispered, letting go of her more quickly than Clarke wanted. She almost cringed when he let go of her and turned away, sauntering down the street toward his own home without so much as a glance back at her.
She didn't understand this feeling that came over her, this heavy weight in her chest and stomach that slowly turned. Clarke wasn't sure if it was the events of the night, her own tiredness, or Bellamy's words but in that moment, she felt completely helpless and alone.
Steamy chapter. Feelings revealed. Fun fun. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks so much. Please review.