Win a Date with Bellamy Blake
Chapter 21
Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.
Author's Note: People said they love the angst, but want some more fluff. This chapter is kind of a bit of both, but in all honest, I'm feeling kind of blech about it.
This chapter really sucked for me, and I don't know why. I had trouble starting it, and then I had a Microsoft Word crash when I was attempting save some really gold stuff a few weeks back. Then, I was back to having a lot of trouble get to where I was before. So, this chapter is just meh for me. I feel like I lost a lot of the beauty that was the start of this fic, and I want to get back to it. I spent the last few days reading through the last twenty chapters. I just want to get passed these next few chapters, and then I feel like I will be back on top of this story again.
Some of you were also wondering where I got the idea for Clarke's art show, and it was actually because I dreamt about my story. Yeah, kind of weird, I know.
"Octavia, these shots are gorgeous!" Clarke called out to Octavia, making the brunette grin as she continued to walk through the shimmery pink, white, and blue fabric hanging from the trees; the glittering of the twinkle lights wrapped around the branches made everything glow brighter in the shade from the house, high walls of the enclosed backyard, and the tree's leaves, despite the sun being planted high in the sky, very few clouds drifting across the pale blue sky. Octavia's skin was lightly tanned, which stood out beneath the opaque fabric. She shot the camera a sly smile through a mirror as she parted some of the fabric to walk through.
Clarke watched as Monroe called out directions to Octavia as she moved through the setup in the backyard of Daniel's holiday house. Well, it wasn't exactly Daniel's house anymore, but she still hadn't completely processed the phone call the afternoon before. As much fun as she was having with this photoshoot, and she was getting an amazing spread of pictures to use to paint, her mind was elsewhere. She and Bellamy had barely spoken since their fight two days before. When he left, he said they were fine, but she didn't know if that was just Bellamy speak for 'I'm going to disappear for a week again and leave Clarke feeling unbelievably confused about where we stand.'
After a quick goodbye coffee with Thalia, Lilly, and Glass before their flights out of LAX, she'd spent the day before getting the backyard ready for the photoshoot. Clarke had used the fact that she was busy directing everyone on how she wanted things and conferring with Monroe on how the lighting should be and the order in which they should take the photographs to distract herself from the fight with Bellamy, but it had barely worked. The guys were doing the majority of the heavy lifting (some of the mirrors were pretty damn heavy), and Finn kept asking her where Bellamy was, since he wasn't there. She ignored him by running off to direct someone to position a mirror in a different spot or to confer with Monroe over test shots without any of the models.
Thankfully, after one of his annoying 'where's Bellamy, Clarke' ambushes, Octavia snapped at him. "Why the fuck do you care where he is? Your concern should be on your own relationship rather than Clarke's relationship with my brother." He immediately shut up and slinked away, not looking at neither Clarke, nor Octavia, for the rest of the day. Octavia had pulled Clarke aside after the incident with Finn, informing her that he was at a bunch of auditions that Kane had set up for him, last minute, because the gladiator film he was going to do after the final Grounders film had pushed up their production start. Bellamy had to back out of the film, because of scheduling conflicts, so he and Kane got to work on securing another summer project for him.
The second that Octavia walked away, Clarke had pulled out her phone to send him a good luck text, which she received a thank you for three hours later, when they were finishing up the final details in the backyard before heading their separate ways for the evening. She knew that he must have been exhausted, considering she had heard from Octavia, Lincoln, and Bellamy that the audition process was draining for a number of reasons. Sometimes, the actors were reading for a bunch of people—casting directors, producers, and so on; other times, they were being filmed doing a read and the recording was sent off to the important people halfway around the world. There were times when actors were doing chemistry reads with people who had already been cast or between two potential actors to be cast in specific roles. There were even times when the script that the actor read from was bogus for the audition process, just to ensure that the true film being made was kept a secret for as long as possible.
After she'd climbed into her car, ready to head back to her apartment, asking if he wanted her to bring him dinner, but he had told her that he was just going to crash, and that was the last that she heard from him. The rejection had stung, but she hadn't pushed it, because she figured that they would work out their issues when they were both ready for it.
The fight two days before was pretty rough, and she kept replaying it in her mind. After it was over, they had sat in silence, on her couch, for a while. She apologized to him for slapping him. She had been out of line with that, and she'd known it the moment that her hand had connected with his cheek. She felt like shit for hitting him, and then he started apologizing to her? It made her feel even worse, because he'd opened up to her about his past. He had discussed how he used to get in fights trying to protect his mom and sister as a teen. He told her that he'd always felt like a monster or like he wasn't good enough, because of where he came from and what his childhood was like. Her slapping him—it was another confirmation in his mind that he wasn't worthy of respect, basic kindness and decency, and honesty; it was confirmation that he wasn't good enough. She was so confused about what was going on inside of her head (and heart), so she took it out on him. That wasn't fair. She reacted poorly, irrationally, to him saying that he only had Octavia to count on, because it had hurt her feelings. If she was honest with herself, she kind of deserved it, because she hadn't talked to him about her plan when it came up. He'd said that she considered him an afterthought. That was completely untrue. If anything, he was an ever-present fixture in her mind, which actually freaked her out.
Bellamy brushed off her apology, saying that he accepted it, but didn't need one, and they'd sat in silence for a while again. Clarke asked him if they were okay, and he'd said they were fine. Then, they sat in silence again. Before she knew it, he was saying that he had to go and was walking out of the door. They weren't okay, she knew, and this would be the perfect way for them to end their fake dating thing. They had a massive fight, and they broke up. It would've been sort of true, but there was a hole in her heart at just the thought of it. She felt sick to her stomach over the fight, and she felt sick about them just walking away from each other. This was a legitimate fight. This wasn't them pretending to have a fight and then breaking up, only to become friends at a later date. She was confused as hell, and she didn't know what to make of everything.
"Clarke, do you think we got enough pictures of just Octavia? Is there anything else you want from her before we call a break and do the pair shots?" Clarke jumped when Monroe's voice drew her back to the present moment—the photoshoot, her plans for the exhibit, reality.
"Um, yeah, let's break, okay?" She gave Monroe a tight smile.
"Let's do a fifteen minute break, yeah?" Monroe looked over to Clarke for confirmation, and she quickly nodded her head. Octavia grinned as Lincoln passed her a robe, quickly pulling it on.
When Monroe and Clarke had met up to plan the schedule for the week, they knew that Octavia, Lincoln, Kate, and Wells had the least flexibility in their schedules. Kate was assigned to three other artists aside from Clarke and Monroe, and she was in the process of working out deals for them in various arenas across the country; Wells was in the process of building a case that was to go to trial in three weeks. Octavia had a photoshoot in Milan the following week, and Lincoln needed to fly out to Miami for a three-episode guest arc on a new crime show that was going to be airing in the fall. The rest of the people participating in the photoshoot were Spacewalk staff, Raven, and Hayley. Raven was a mechanic, and she owned her own business; Hayley was a third grade teacher, and the private school she worked at had the rest of the week off for the holidays, so she didn't need to go back to work until next Monday. Monty, Jasper, and Finn stated that as long as the shoots were done before the opening of Spacewalk in the evening and that their staff weren't scheduled for the shoot on the same day that they had an opening shift at Spacewalk, they were cool with who went when.
Clarke and Monroe, using these parameters, decided that they would break down the shoot to be one couple per day to get the necessary number of photos for Clarke to use detail references for her paintings and to not forcer her friends to stand around naked, waiting for their turn to go. Today, Sunday the fourth, Lincoln and Octavia were scheduled to get their individual and pair shots taken. Tomorrow, Harper and Miller were going to be photographed; on Tuesday, Monty and Hayley were scheduled. On Wednesday, it was Raven and Finn; Wells and Kate were going to be photographed on Sunday the eleventh, because Octavia had insisted that the two of them attend Bellamy's birthday dinner, followed by drinks and a little dancing at Spacewalk, since he didn't want to do a huge birthday bash this year. Octavia claimed that Wells, Clarke, and Kate would be too tired and hungover to do a photoshoot on Saturday, so it was pushed to Sunday instead.
They had a full house today, though, because everyone wanted to help out and get a feel for what was going to happen during their own shoots. Lincoln and Octavia were scheduled as the first couple to, because modeling and photoshoots were their jobs, and they'd been naked in some capacity at work previously, so they were completely comfortable with a shoot like this. Lincoln dropped trough moments after he arrived, asking where they wanted him, so his solo shots were done first. While Monroe was photographing a few of the detail pictures, Clarke had turned to Octavia and said "damn." The younger Blake had just grinned and nodded her head. She was one lucky girl.
Monroe headed over to Clarke, holding out the camera for her to peruse. As she was reviewing the pictures, commenting over lighting and angles, as well as how it was great that Monroe had zoomed in on Octavia's lower back to get the trio of birthmarks that could be found there, she felt a hand rest on her lower back, making her jump. "Hey, Bellamy added, a little delayed, considering the two of them froze for a moment after his touch.
"Hi," she smiled, albeit it was a hesitant one, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
"So, have I missed seeing my sister naked, or…" He trailed off, giving her a sheepish look.
Clarke handed Monroe her camera, and the redhead gave them a quick wave before she headed over to chat with Lincoln and Octavia, likely about the upcoming pair shots. Clarke focused her attention on Bellamy, however, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment. "We just finished the solo shots for her, and now we're doing a quick break before we do the pair photos. Everything was going pretty well this morning. It's a pretty great start. I can't wait to dive into the couples photos. I'm thinking about having each couple do a series of shots walking toward each other, getting closer, and then doing a few of them together, facing each other and then back to front or separate, but touching in some way. We're going to brainstorm some of the poses first, get a feel for what seems natural and organic, and then let them run wild with the idea." She blushed, looking down at her feet. "I'm rambling, right?" He gave her a soft smile, shrugging.
"It's cool. It all sounds cool. I'm sure it will be great."
"C'mere." She grabbed Bellamy's hand, guiding him back inside and away from the prying eyes of her friends, but most importantly Finn. "How were the auditions?" She asked after the two of them arrived in the family room, out of earshot from everyone else.
"Um, they were good." He ran a hand through his hair, staring at his feet once he sat down on the couch. She perched on the cushion beside him, not daring to be close enough to touch him, because she knew that they weren't fine.
"Tell me about them? Feel good about anything?"
"Um, there were a few action movies that I had to do a few heavy dialogue reads with dumb actresses who gave me a headache." She smiled, running a finger over the floral design in the couch's fabric.
"The kind of girls you'd normally try to bed." She said with a laugh.
"Yeah, well, after this thing with you, I've come to realize that I'm over dumb sluts. I need more of a challenge than that." Clarke's head flew up, and she saw Bellamy roll his eyes, but he was still staring at the floor, not at her. What in the hell did he mean about that? "There was one chick flick read that I did for the casting director was going to send the recording of to the producers and directors. I definitely don't like chick flicks." He shook his head.
"Which probably means that the read went really well, and you're questioning your masculinity." She teased, finally getting him to look at her. Her comment earned her a half-hearted glare.
"It was a monologue that will likely be a voiceover for the male protagonist finally realizing that he was in love with his female counterpart. It was definitely not creative and unique, and I almost wished that it was for gay romantic comedy, because it would've made the whole thing more intriguing." Clarke laughed, a deep throaty laugh that had Bellamy swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing, and his eyes tracing over her lips. She licked her bottom lip.
"I'd totally go see a movie where you make out with another guy." She shifted closer to him, almost without realizing it.
"I'd be great as a gay man." His voice deepened, sounding a little more gravely than usual. It made her heart beat a staccato rhythm and her breathing quicken. His body also shifted in her direction, their knees brushing as they spoke.
"I don't doubt it. Who would they cast as your male counterpart?" She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, her fingers slowly brushing across the fabric of the couch until they met his. He interlaced his fingers through hers, eyes trained on their hands.
"Murphy, definitely. Murphamy has a nice ring to it, yeah?"
"I ship it." She chuckled. "Bell," she breathed out.
"Clarke," he responded, and his eyes were back on hers.
"I'm sorry." He huffed out a breath, shaking his head. The moment was officially ruined.
"We're fine. Stop apologizing."
"No, we're not. Let me apologize, please."
"I don't need an apology. You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I feel like I should apologize, because I totally over—"
"Oh, my God! You can't be serious. You're not apologizing to me. You did nothing wrong. I was the one who fucked up."
"Yeah, but I'm over it. I don't need a stupid apology."
"Are we really fighting about apologizing? Jesus, that's horrible, even for us." Clarke sighed, leaning her free hand against her forehead. "Can you just shut the fuck up for, like, five minutes, because I want to apologize? We're not okay. You know it. I know it, and I want to make it okay between us."
"Yeah, well, apologies generally are to relieve the guilt a person feels, not to relieve any pain the other person is feeling, so if I don't want an apology from you, then you don't need to give one. I'm fine. You're fine. I'm over it, and you need to get over it, too."
"I'm not trying to apologize to assuage my own guilt, Bellamy. I'm trying to explain to you what was going on in my head. I do want to repair any damage between us that might have happened." She squeezed Bellamy's hand in hers. "You're my friend. You're my best friend. I didn't think that would be possible, you know? I didn't expect this when we came back into each other's lives, and I don't want to lose you. I've been here before. I've lost people, people I really cared about, because I didn't talk through shit the way that I should have. I wasn't honest and open, and that's what I'm trying to do here. So, please, just shut the fuck up and let me talk."
"I just did." He muttered under his breath, and she reached out and smacked his chest with her free hand. "Alright. Whatever. Apologize to me. Make it a good one, because I'm not going to let you keep trying to do it after this." She rolled her eyes at him, but she could feel the smile twitch at the corners of her lips.
"Well, I forgot the whole big speech I planned, because we were arguing over the semantics of an apology, so you've gotta bear with me for a second."
Bellamy made a noise that Clarke was sure was an attempt at a buzzer sound. "This apology is already off to a shitty start."
"I hate you."
"And, it's officially in the history books for the worst apology ever."
"Bell!" She whined, and he chuckled, squeezing her hand lightly.
"Okay, fine. I'll stop. Go ahead. Dazzle me, Princess." She stuck her tongue out at him, but then sobered, looking down at their clasped hands.
"I'm sorry for a lot of things, so you're going to need to bear with me. I'm gonna do some explanation first, and I don't want to really make any excuses, but I do want to tell you what I was thinking and feeling, which is why I did what I did, okay?"
"Okay." His voice was soft, and she could feel his gaze on her cheek, but she continued to stare at their hands. Her thumb traced lightly over his skin, and she could feel the little hairs on the back of his thumb beneath the pad of hers. She flicked her tongue over her bottom lip, taking a quick breath to prepare herself.
"I'm sorry that I made you feel like an afterthought. I should've called you and talked to you about the idea I had for my exhibit. I also should've called you the second that I made plans with Kate and Wells about going shopping for the mirrors and such, because we had made plans to talk. I told myself that it was because I was wrapped up in my show, but that was only a small part of it. The other part was why I was avoiding calling you talk about my show in the first place.
"I was feeling really mixed up about what happened between us. You and I hooked up, which is steadily becoming a common occurrence between us, and then we almost had sex. I wound up doing exactly what Glass says I do. I ran away, instead of facing things head on." She swallowed, glancing up at him briefly. His eyes were soft, and he was watching her. He gave her a small nod to acknowledge what she was saying.
"You're not an afterthought, Bellamy. That's not why I didn't talk to you about everything. To be honest, you're the complete opposite of an afterthought. In the last month and a half, every little thing that has happened in my life has always come with the thought: I have to tell Bellamy. Someone honked their horn at me—'oh, I've got to tell Bellamy what an asshole this person was. The light just turned green.' I saw a cute dog when I was walking down the street—'I should take a picture of it and snapchat it to Bellamy.' You probably get the idea." She blushed, staring at her lap. She waved her hand at the direction of the backyard. "I came up with all of this, because of you." She winced when she realized what it sounded like, so she quickly started talking again to prevent him from responding.
"After I got home on New Year's, I took a shower to relax, because I was so hyped up with a lot of energy, but it didn't really go away at all. When I was changing in front of the mirror, I got the whole idea that I described to you the other day. The nakedness is a symbol of vulnerability, and the mirror being the reflection from a lover and blah, blah, blah. But the inspiration itself came from me feeling conflicted over us nearly having sex. We're best friends; we're pretty open and honest with each other, but there's a lot of stuff that I haven't shared with you, and I know there is a lot that you haven't shared with me. We're attracted to each other, and we're friends, but this isn't a real relationship. I get confused sometimes, because we hookup, and it's just…I dunno. I just got mixed up."
"Clarke," Bellamy interjected, his voice deep and gruff. Clarke shook her head, closing her eyes.
"Wait. Please let me finish." She let out a breath. "I wanted to do this exhibit, because I wanted to look at real couples. I wanted to see what they see when they look at each other. We're friends, and we kiss because we're putting on a show for everyone else. That's bound to make things muddled, so I wanted to look at real couples and put that emotion—that vulnerability, openness, connection—onto a canvas." She ran a hand through her hair. "You were the first person I thought of to tell about the exhibit, but then I got scared, because how did I explain that all of it came from me being mixed up over us nearly having sex in your bed? And, yes, there was a huge part of me that didn't want to tell you, because I wanted to ask Lincoln and Octavia to participate, and I knew you would react poorly."
"So, all of this was because of me?"
"Sort of? It took on a mind of its own, because I am artist…I'm creative. Things don't always end up the same as when I first conceptualize it. You should understand that about movies." She blushed, looking away from him.
"Clarke," he whispered, cupping her chin to guide her gaze back to him.
"I'm sorry that I slapped you." She sniffed, tears filling her eyes. "You were yelling at me, and you said that you only had Octavia. I was hurt. I felt rejected. I felt like you didn't care about me at all. You're my best friend, and you're important to me. Hearing you say that really upset me, and I lashed out. I wanted to hurt you the same way that you hurt me, and I didn't know how to do that, so I smacked you, which was really stupid and horrible and rude and awful, and I'm so fucking sorry."
"Clarke." He was laughing at her. He was laughing at her? What the hell is wrong with him? Why was he laughing at her? "Do you know how many times that Octavia's smacked me across the face?" Right. He was comparing what happened with her to something with his sister. She pulled her hand from his, and he sighed, wrapping her arms around her. "Clarke, c'mere. I didn't mean it like that. I've been smacked by a lot of women in my lifetime, not even just Octavia. I'm not thrown off by someone slapping my face." She scoffed, pushing at his chest, trying to pull away from him. First, she was compared to his sister, and now he was comparing her to all of his former flings. Perfect. "Why are you pulling away?"
"First, I'm like your sister, which is wrong on so many levels." She stood up, waving her hands.
"Clarke, no, wait."
"Then, you compared me to all of the women you've slept with since you lost your virginity in high school. That's even better."
"Clarke, stop. Wait." He started chuckling again, standing up, arms up and open, either hoping to grab her into another hug or to protect himself from a possible physical assault from her, since she was exactly like his sister and all of the women he's fucked over the years. She glowered at him, and he stopped laughing, but there was a wide smile on his lips.
"Don't laugh at me."
"This isn't going the way I intended it to go. I've also been slapped a lot in my movies, too." He tried, shrugging his shoulders.
"Yeah, not helping." She paused, running a hand over her face. "Although, the most accurate, considering I'm your fake girlfriend." She felt the fight go out of her. He laughed, walking over to her.
"C'mere." He whispered, wrapping his arms around her frame. "What I was trying to say is that I don't blame you for the slap. I'm not pissed about it. Frankly, that was the least upsetting part of our fight that day. Seriously, you have nothing to worry about."
"But, Bell, I shouldn't have—" He shook his head, looking down at her.
"Don't worry about it, Clarke. I'm serious. Am I allowed to apologize to you yet?"
"You don't have anything to apologize for."
"Neither did you, but I let you apologize." She opened her mouth to respond, but he just laughed. "With a fight, yes, but I still let you apologize. Let me go now?"
"Fine."
"Cool, I'm sorry for my part in our fight. I was stressed about what was going on between us, too. I was looking for any excuse to lash out at you, because I've got the emotional maturity of a three year old." She chuckled. "I yelled, and I was feeling rejected, too, because you didn't tell me about the exhibit. Then, you forgot to tell me that you were changing our plans, and I just felt like I didn't matter. We're supposed to be best friends, and I dunno…it's stupid." She sniffed, wrapping her arms more tightly around his torso.
"I know that feeling…" She leaned her forehead against his chest.
"I'm very familiar with the idea that every little thing that happens is met with an 'I wonder what Clarke would say' or whatever. Even when I was hiding a week ago, I still wanted to talk to you. So, when all of this came up, I saw it as you not caring about me or whatever." He pressed a kiss to her crown. "I said that I only had Octavia, because I wanted to make you feel rejected, because I felt rejected. We're a mess, Princess."
"Yes, we are." She whispered back, gripping the back of his shirt. "I do care about you, though." She pulled her face away from his chest, looking up at him. "You know that now, right? You're my best friend."
"I know." He smiled. "Ditto, babe." She rolled her eyes. "So, this was all about me, huh?"
Clarke whined, pulling away from Bellamy. "You're such an asshole."
"You love it." He laughed, grabbing her again. "We good?" He tilted her face up towards his. His fingers traced along her jaw; the feather light touch sent tremors down her spine, which he surely noticed, considering one of his arms was wrapped around her waist, holding her against him. She nodded her head, making him smile as his thumb brushed along her bottom lip. "Good." He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her mouth.
She sighed, relaxing into the kiss. She went up on her toes; her hands tangled into the hair at the base of his skull. He moved his hand to rest on the spot where her throat met her shoulder, his thumb tracing along her collarbone. He broke the steady pressure of his lips against hers, sucking first on her top lip before moving to the bottom one. He bit down on it lightly, earning a soft sigh from her. He released her lip, and hers remained parted, allowing one swipe, then two of his tongue along her bottom lip, a warning that he was going to deep the kiss. Except he didn't get a chance to, because someone clearing their—her—throat made them both jump apart.
Bellamy's cheeks were slightly tinged pink as he looked over her head at whoever was in the doorway. Clarke sucked her bottom lip into her mouth when he uttered a strangled, "O," nodding his head as he moved his hand from her shoulder to tuck a blonde curl behind her ear.
"Sorry to interrupt this…whole thing." Clarke glanced over her shoulder at Octavia, who was waving her hand at the two of them with an amused smile on her face. "But, we're in the middle of this photoshoot. One that I'm not getting paid for, mind you." Clarke opened her mouth to respond, but Octavia held a hand up. "I don't want to hear it! I volunteered to take part in this, because you're my friend. But, the saying still fits; time is money, so let's go, bitches!"
Bellamy groaned, giving Clarke one final squeeze on the shoulder before he brushed past his sister, pinching her arm. Clarke followed him, but Octavia reached out and grabbed Clarke's arm, stopping her. "I thought 'time was money,'" Clarke teased the younger Blake, who rolled her eyes in response.
"It is, but there's something I want to talk to you about."
"Oh? That sounds ominous." Octavia rolled her eyes.
"I just wanted to check in with you…see how you're doing."
"I'm fine…" Clarke furrowed her brow and squinted at Octavia. "Um, why do you…what is this about?"
"Well, I know that you and Bell had a fight, again, and then I came in here, and it looks like you two were all made up…" Clarke felt the heat settle on her cheeks, and she looked to her feet. "Have you thought about just telling him?" Her head flew up at that, because what?
"Telling who? About what?"
"Bellamy." Octavia sighed. "Have you thought about telling him that you have feelings for him?"
"Wait! What? I don't." The look on Octavia's face indicated that she wasn't amused, making Clarke swallow and her blush to deepen even further.
"Clarke." Octavia shook her head. "You're in love with him. It's written all over your face."
"I'm—I don't—it isn't—we aren't—I'm not…" Clarke swallowed, shaking her head, and Octavia smiled, resting a hand on Clarke's shaking arm.
"It's okay, Clarke." She says sympathetically. "Why don't you use his birthday to tell him the truth about how you feel?"
"I don't even know how I feel…" Clarke muttered, and Octavia pulled her into a tight hug. "Are you sure it's okay that I'm spending most of his birthday with him?"
"Yeah, it's really no biggie! Honestly, people would think it's weird if he spent the day with just me and then hung out with you for a bit at dinner. I mean, every other year, we just chill on the couch, watching movies—hanging out with his girlfriend on his birthday is expected." Clarke blushed at that. "To be honest with you, I know that my brother loves me, but he'd much rather spend the day with you, the girl he's crazy about, than with me." Clarke froze, watching Octavia as she turned around and sidled out of the room. She swallowed a few times, because what the hell did that mean? Octavia couldn't be serious. Bellamy didn't have feelings for her, did he? That couldn't be true.
Clarke hurried to the backyard, because she knew everyone was waiting on her, and her eyes immediately landed on Bellamy, arms crossed with a glare pointed at Finn. Finn was mirroring Bellamy, standing on the other side of the backyard with Raven, Wells, and Kate. Raven was chatting with the other two, oblivious to the blatant pissing contest going on between Bellamy and Finn. Clarke hurried her way over to Bellamy, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Forget about him." She said quietly, and Bellamy turned toward her, wrapping his arms around her.
"He's a dick. He had the audacity to come ask me when you and I were going to go, because you didn't mention it when you and Monroe were going over the schedule for the week. I told him to fuck off."
"He knows. I told them that I'm not good at doing self-portraits. It's why every piece I've made comes out more abstract and disjointed when I attempt to include myself in it." She rolled her eyes, because it was a lie. "I said that since this is a couple thing, and I'm not doing a self-portrait, that means that we're not doing this." She waved her hand at the set up.
"Oh, okay…" He looked away from her, staring at the ground, making her gape at him. Was he disappointed?
"Did you want to?"
"Um, well, I dunno. I think it would be pretty cool, you know? Plus, isn't it weird that your boyfriend isn't participating in your art show? Like, his sister is modeling? And his costar is modeling, but I'm not?"
"Well, I was actually hoping that I could paint you, too, but not for a show. I wasn't kidding when I said that I wanted to do a portrait of you. I just…I just feel weird about selling that kind of thing, you know?"
Bellamy opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by Monroe coming over to ask if they were ready to start. Clarke and Monroe got into their director mode, talking about some possible ways to start the shot. Lincoln dropped his robe, and Clarke grinned at the muffled curse that came from Bellamy's mouth behind her. Lincoln came up to Octavia, standing behind her, helping her to pull her robe off her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck as he did it. Monroe calls out for them to freeze that shot, raising her camera to begin taking pictures.
"Fuck, I can't watch this. Clarke, I'm out. Call me later. We'll do dinner, okay?" Bellamy pressed a kiss to the back of her head, before practically running from the backyard, earning a few chuckles from everyone watching his escape.