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Chapter 36

Clarke carefully slipped her feet into her tennis shoes, the urge to run her fingers through Bellamy Blake's hair nearly overwhelming her. He knelt before her, his nimble fingers tying her laces before he stared up at with an endearing grin.

"Your glass slippers, Princess", he said with a dramatic bow as he rose from the floor.

Clarke laughed at his antics, but soon became serious as he slipped his jacket around her shoulders before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm so glad I finally get to spring you from this joint", he said quietly.

"You and me both", Clarke said as she stood on shaky legs.

She sat down in the wheel chair, and took her bag into her lap. As Bellamy pushed her down the hallway, her thoughts wandered.

Clarke ran after Octavia, until suddenly the ground rose up to meet her. She tumbled into the dirt, her knee scraping painfully on the loose gravel. She felt tears burn behind her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks.

Then gentle hands pulled her from the dirt, and tipped her chin. Her watery gaze met the dark brown eyes of Bellamy Blake. She launched into his arms, crying against his neck.

"Are you hurt, Princess", he asked softly.

She shook her head; blonde curls dancing down her back.

"What happened?"

"I tripped", Clarke said tearfully.

"I see that, but why'd you trip", Bellamy questioned.

"My shoes are untied."

"Why don't you tie them then?"

"I don't know how", Clarke said, hanging her little head.

Bellamy stared at her for a moment, and then took her tiny hand in his own. He led her to the front porch, sitting her down on one of the steps and kneeling before her.

"Alright, I'm only going to show you this once so watch closely."

Clarke nodded, watching and listening closely as Bellamy showed her how to tie her shoes. After he was finished, he untied the bow he'd just made and told her to retie it. She managed to do it on her second try, and her tear-streaked face broke out in a happy grin.

"I did it, Bell, I really did it", she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Good job, Princess. Let's get you inside and take care of that knee."

Clarke was pulled from her musings by Bellamy's deep voice.

"What's the smile for, Princess?"

Clarke grinned, "I was just remembering when I learned to tie my shoes."

Bellamy's chuckle filled the elevator with a deep rumbling melody.

"You were adorable, all dusty and teary."

"You were the only person who'd taken the time to teach me. Both of my parents worked so much they didn't have time", she said sadly.

She felt his hand on her shoulder, "Missing out on you was their loss, Princess. You were a great kid."

"So, were you Bell. Sometimes you talk as though you're ancient, but you're not you know."

"Sometimes it feels like I'm ancient", he said gruffly.

"Well, stick with me old man I'll keep you young", Clarke said with a wink.

"What are you talking about Princess, these premature grays are all your fault!"

"You don't have any gray hairs, I stare at your hair enough that I would know if you did", Clarke said, blushing when she realized what she'd just said.

"You like my hair, do you", Bellamy said with a chuckle.

"I do. It's no fair! My curls are frizzy and yours are so soft!"

Bellamy laughed aloud at this, "Well, I'm partial to your golden curls myself."

"Why, Mr. Blake, did you just admit that you like my hair", Clarke grinned.

Her grin quickly faded when Bellamy bent, and his breath ghosted over her face as he spoke. "I don't just like your hair, Princess, I love it. "

Clarke shivered, a blush once again creeping up her neck. The red tint only deepened when Bellamy pecked her neck, and stood with a deep chuckle.

She was thankful when they'd made it to his truck, and were on their way home. She stared at him on the way home, enjoying the fact that she was allowed. She spent the greater majority of her life staring at Bellamy Blake and trying desperately not to get caught.

Clarke smiled softly when he turned to glance in her direction, and her mind wandered to ancient history for the second time that day.

Clarke sat at the kitchen table in the Blake residence, her eyes glued to her cereal. She sat rigid in the wooden chair, one of her hands fisted in the material of her chevron pj's.

Across from her, and the object of her frustration, sat Bellamy Blake. He was shirtless, as always. She didn't know why he couldn't dress properly for morning meals. It made it awfully hard to concentrate, and she'd nearly choked twice on her Frosted Flakes.

She could hear the rustle of the newspaper as he shuffled through to find the sport's page. She huffed, taking a bite of the milky goodness and chewing slowly. Finally she'd had enough.

"Bell, why don't you wear clothes to breakfast", she said in exasperation.

Clarke watched as the paper dropped, and a pair of dark eyes peered over the top. Even without seeing his mouth she could tell he was smiling. She arched one blonde brow, her features showing her aggravation.

"What's the matter, Princess? Never seen a man shirtless before", Bellamy quipped.

"Yeah, you! Daily! You don't see me coming downstairs half naked!"

At that he laughed, not just a little chuckle, oh no a full out rumbling laugh! It grew in volume as Clarke's cheeks reddened, her seventeen-year-old pride severely bruised.

She couldn't bring herself to be upset with him. He'd been going through some stressful stuff at the shop, and it'd been a while since she'd seen him smile let alone laugh. Which was the main reason she was now laughing along, tears rolling down her cheeks.

It felt good to laugh together, to share a happy moment for once. She would never forget how his laughter sounded as it echoed off the kitchen walls. Every morning after that, she didn't mind seeing him shirtless.

She took it to mean that he was comfortable with her. It was the same as her not trying to tame her bedhead. They just came as they were, and settled into the comfortable silence. Both thankful to have one person they didn't have to hide from.

Clarke giggled aloud, gaining a look of confusion from her silent partner.

"What are you thinking now", he asked, his dark eyes focused on the highway.

"I just realized that now I can look at you whenever I want, I don't have to hide it."

Bellamy guffawed, "Princess, you never did a very good job of hiding it!"

"I did so", Clarke defended half-heartedly.

Then his met hers, a wry look of disbelief hovering in the dark depths.

"Ok, so I didn't hide it very well", she said with a smirk.

"I never minded you know. I was too busy staring back to notice."

"Well, as long as I wasn't the only one…"

"You always made me feel special, Clarke. I never had to wonder if you cared, it was always written in those pretty blue eyes of yours", he said, his tone serious and sincere.

Clarke squeezed his hand, tears filling her eyes. "I love you, Bell."

"I love you too, Princess", he said with a grin.

They finally reached the apartment complex, and Clarke found her hand gripped tightly in Bellamy's grasp once more. She walked slowly, her legs dragging in exhaustion. Even if she was dead tired, she was still happy.

The elevator ride was silent, but not uncomfortable. She found that with Bellamy, words were unnecessary. Most of their conversations were wordless anyhow.

The ding sounded, alerting them that they had arrived at their destination. They meandered to the apartment, Clarke taking her time unlocking the door. Upon entering, she found Octavia and Lincoln curled up on the couch watching one of Bell's historical films.

"Hey, you two", Clarke called, "We're home!"

"Thank goodness! I'm happy to have you both back", O said, wrapping Clarke and Bellamy in a tight hug.

"I'll go put your stuff in the wash, Princess", Bellamy said, kissing her cheek gently before moving to the task at hand.

Clarke stared after him and then went to curl up on the loveseat. She settled back against the cushions, her tired eyes focusing on the television screen. A bloody battle raged in the Greek epic, which just so happened to be Bellamy's favorite.

She scooted over when she heard his returning footsteps, and then heard the characteristic squeak as he sat down beside her. She curled up against his side, her head on his chest.

Clarke breathed in, enjoying being home and in his arms. Then thoughts of the upcoming trial encroached on her peaceful thoughts. She had already testified, but Bellamy had not.

She worried about him because she knew that dredging up the past was hurtful. He wasn't proud of the things he'd done, even if he'd done them out of what he'd felt was necessity.

She reached over, taking his hand in her own. She traced the callouses and scars, entranced. She loved his hands. They were strong, yet tender- scarred, yet beautiful. Every tragedy he'd faced could be read within the lines, but still he reached out with gentleness and love.

She would never be able to number the times that those hands had defended her, comforted her, and strengthened her. One thing was for certain, she would forever be in the debt of Bellamy Blake and a part of her heart would always be his.

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