The following week was busy as everyone in the world went back to normal post-holiday chaos. As if the 25th being done and gone somehow switched on a new energy in everyone. Clarke didn't get the new year off, which she knew would happen. Even if she could get lucky enough to be on call, she'd get called in. While the staff was still borrowed from the other hospital, the intake of patients was at a peak. Post-Christmas bullshit was a show in the ER. A lot of fight patients with a smattering of allergy patients took a peak among the general injury intake. But of course New Years Eve and New Years day saw a flux in drunken injuries, car accidents, and alcohol poisoning. The end of New Years day couldn't come to her fast enough. Her body was aching, boned crying in tired desperation and she just felt as if she was wading in a pile of shit from the amount of things she was subjected to through her three shifts this week.
"Happy New Year Clarke." One of the nurses called out as Clarke trudged out of the doors of the emergency bay and seeks the refuge of her car. Blindly, she walks to where she knows she parked, where she always parks, her face in her phone. The ER employee lot is small and lit, just off the side of the building. It's tucked in between different sections of the hospital but it's nice, it makes it so they don't have to use the main parking garage. Granted, valet parking is free, she prefers to use their lot.
"Hey." A deep masculine voice jolted her out of her own skin. So much so, she dropped her phone in a painful clatter against the rough asphalt.
"Oh." Her eyes darted to find the human belonging to the voice and a powder keg of fear that had arose in a split second dissipated just as fast, her nerves fluttering.
"Sorry." He moved to her and knelt before her, picking up her phone. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Clarke hadn't realized her hand was clutching her chest as she watched Bellamy pick up her phone and slide it into the bag over her shoulder. He cautiously removed the bag from her sore shoulder and carried it for her, the three foot gap between her and her car.
"That's what I get for paying attention to my phone." She smirked, lightening the rush of adrenaline she had just gone through. Her body involuntarily moved her feet toward him, closing the inches worth of frigid air between her sore achy body and the comfort she knew he could provide. As if he knew what she didn't even express, he moved into her and in a second the heat of his body took her in as his arms wrapped around her shoulders. He planted the sweetest kiss on the forehead.
A little moan escaped her throat. "You smell so good." She mumbled into his shirt. She couldn't see the smile it elicited, but she knew.
"I smell like sawdust." He retorted through a grin.
"No." She pulled away enough to clock his eyes, a little pout on her face. "You smell like.. Warm. Warm, manly, deliciousness." She rambled a bit boldly and immediately blushed after the fact.
"Okay." He chuckled and leaned back against her car, Clarke nestled into him. She clearly needed the comfort right now as she had fully leaned into him, all of her weight. They enjoyed this embrace for moments of silence before she shivered a bit and pulled away.
"Wait, why are you here?" She asked through a heavy yawn.
"I came to invite you over." His statement caught her off guard. That seemed different. Out of place even, or just something she wasn't used to.
"Oh." She looked down awkward but he didn't let her. A rough, cold finger pulled her chin back up.
"You can say no, you know." He smiled at her, hoping to lighten whatever thoughts she was processing. "I just wanted to feed you dinner, and kiss you at midnight."
Right in the feel-tank, she just about audibly said 'awh'. Instead, she just nodded. She had completely forgotten the day though the moment she remembered she looked up at him with a crooked glance.
"Wait, it's already the first." She pouted.
"So. Doesn't mean I can't steal a kiss a day late to start the year off right." He shrugged and pulled her keys out of her hand. He unlocked and opened her car door for her. She looked confused.
"We're going to go back to your place to drop your car off." He explained. She nodded in realization, sliding into her car.
He checked she was in the car, all limbs and what not before slyly stating "Oh, and you don't have work tomorrow. Nor do I."
The door shut. Her keys in her hand, and a nervousness in her gut, unsure of what he was implying. Was she overthinking? Was he expecting- "Stop."
Clarke scolded herself before turning the car on and heading home. Nothing could beat the feeling of walking into your own home after a long work day. She even followed her routine of ditching her shoes immediately to enjoy the plush carpet before realizing she was expected to turn around and leave. Bellamy had followed her in, carrying her bag. He looked so relaxed and his scent lingered in her lungs. In that moment she realized how gross she must be. She looked down, her scrubs wrinkly. She had gone through two backup pairs that day from the amount of sick in the ward.
"Oh god I probably stink." She exclaimed without thinking. Bellamy laughed.
"You smell sterile, not gross." He tried to negate her worry but it made her pout even more. "Go shower if you think you stink, I promise you don't." He suggested, and she looked relieved.
"You don't mind?"
"About what, you showering or you being smelly?" He laughed and she swiftly bridged the space between them to deck him in the shoulder. He let out a full-bellied laugh as she retreated to her room silently. Clarke took a quick shower to refresh herself. When she emerged from it, she heard laughing in the living room. After quickly assembling an outfit, she walked out of her room. Raven and Bellamy were on the couch looking through something on Raven's tablet.
"Happy New Year." Raven beamed up to her friend, who she hadn't been able to say that to her in the morning or the night before. Raven was busy herself, but she also wasn't home. The rest of the group called in the new year with drinks at a local pub, most of them having to work on New Year's Day.
Clarke smiled and returned the greeting.
"You still letting me kidnap you?" Bellamy stood, stretching out his back as he did so.
Clarke looked at Raven, who didn't give them any grief. A year ago she would have, but this seemed normal to everyone. Everyone but Clarke.
"Yeah. Wait, you said we both don't have work?" She asked, being curious about how he pulled that off or more why he did that.
A smile and a shake of his head was all she got.
"How…"
"Don't worry about it. Go get your stuff." He shooed her off by gently turning her shoulders back toward her room but she resisted. Her back to his chest, he leaned down. "I just want to start my year with you by my side, even if it's a day late, Princess." His words dove right into her heart. She cocked her head up and kissed his cheek before doing as she was told, collecting some over night things in the same bag she takes to work. Minutes later she returned and found her two favorite people sitting at the kitchen table chatting. Raven looked serious and Bellamy had empathy in his eyes. She quietly joined them.
Raven perked up. "Can you take him before I cry?" She laughed.
"What?" Clarke looked concerned but they both had sweet smiles on their lips.
"Reyes can't handle knowing she has people on her side in life." He pat the girls hand and she pulled it away, roller her eyes playfully.
"Of course I do, I'm amazing." She rolled gave a snooty look in jest before peeling herself off of the chair.
"Yes you are." Clarke smiled. Raven saw the two out and couldn't resist plugging at least one innuendo into her bidding them farewell before shutting the door. It sparked another wave of anxiety deep in Clarke's gut. Why was she nervous? She wasn't new to the world of romance, dating, sex and love, so why did she feel like a kid right now?
In the car, Clarke quietly asked. "What was that about?"
"She thanked me for Christmas Eve." He said simply, and Clarke understood everything with that. Vulnerability wasn't Raven's strong suit, hell it wasn't any of theirs. They all acted like they could bear the wait of the world on their shoulders at any time but they couldn't. No single human could.
Clarke smiled as they drove, her eyes fluttering over the various lit buildings as they moved further across down. Clarke realized they were in the lower end of the city and wondered how that affected Bellamy, or if it did at all. She had a silver-spoon lifestyle growing up and never knew financial struggle. His living situation wouldn't change anything about how she felt or thought of him, but she was curious none-the-less. They pulled up to a large apartment complex, more traditional than the narrow inner-city brownstone she and Raven called home.
Bellamy hesitated, something must have come to mind when they got to his home. He looked over at her and gave a meager smile. "Home sweet home." He almost looked as if he was second guessing his decision to invite her over, but she couldn't dwell on it or study his face because he quickly got out of the jeep. Clarke hopped out of it herself, bag in hand, and walked with him to the metal door and into the building. The stairwell was enclosed, wooden, narrow and painted a rusty red. The building had age to it.
"We don't have an elevator." He smiled sheepishly and lead her three floors up. Another door took them into a hallway, like any other apartment building. Two doors down on the left is where he stopped to fuss with a key. What was such a minor task somehow took him longer than it should have. Clarke looked down at the door mat and smiled. Weathered and worn, it was the standard brown straw with thick black text on it that read "'Welcome, Bitches.'
"Octavia's doing?" Clarke pointed down, a grin on her face. Bellamy looked down and back up with a smile of his own and a nod.
"That obvious?"
"Yep."
He unlocked the door and pushed it open, the corner dragging over the carpet inside. He held a hand out to point her inside, and she nearly curtsied as she walked in to his apartment for the first time. This was a place no one ever went but Bellamy, Octavia and rarely Lincoln. It was dark, so she couldn't really take anything in or have any impressions. He stepped into his own apartment behind her, and shut the door with a heavy click, as if the door didn't fit the jamb properly. His hand slid along the wall and the room before them came alive.
With the room now lit, Clarke looked around. The apartment was small, though it couldn't be that much smaller than her own, or so she thought. The layout was very similar, as you walked right into a living space. A small wall retained the kitchen and separated it from the living space, no dining area other than a charming two-seater table in the middle of the equally small kitchen. The kitchen being on the left was the only different in general layout, as in Clarke's house it was off to the right. Speaking of the right, there was no hallway, just three battered white doors in the middle of the wall.
Her eyes focused on the detail though, not the layout. The apartment was decorated pretty thoroughly. All of the hard surfaces were the same light oak from the 90's, varnished to a shine but bumpy with damage over the years. The two windows were dressed with blinds, drapes, and valances which were peppered in roses against that naturally musky looking yellow linen that was popular decades ago. It made her smile, the charm and consistency, as if this one apartment was plucked right out of a home movie from someone childhood. The thought stuck her just then. Was this his family home growing up? The only thing modern was the TV and cough, a squared off build with a clean grey fabric.
"So… this is my home." He gestured the grand reveal as her eyes had cataloged all the aforementioned detail in only seconds.
"It's lovely." She smiled up at him, sincerely. He didn't seem to like that though.
"I know it's old but-" She stopped him with a look.
"Grand tour?" He offered, to get her to look away from him. She nodded eagerly.
With that he lead her through the very little apartment and she drank it all in, imagining what a little Bellamy would have been like, terrorizing his mother in this home so many years ago. It pulled on her heart strings that he still lived here, and she wondered just how that was possible. He described everything as if they were in a grand estate and it made her smile. The only thing she couldn't see from where she stood originally at the front door were the bedrooms and bathroom, those three plain white doors. Behind them from left to right was a fully modernized master bedroom, a small clean bathroom and a second room that seemed to be mostly storage, or even overrun by storage.
"That's all."
"Why do you do that?" Clarke asked, as the two fell into his sofa. As square as it looked, it was damn comfy.
"Do what?"
"Minimize where you live, like you're ashamed of it." She was bold to make the statement, and his face read a bit shocked.
"It's not some big family home or inner-city loft. People look down on you based on the way you live." He ran a hand over the back of his head nervously.
"Some people might, but fuck them." She turned to him, tucking her leg under herself. "I think it's sweet, and I love seeing part of your life like this."
Bellamy didn't have words, but she could tell his nervousness was suddenly gone. He simply leaned in and kissed her, a long tender kiss. She pushed him back.
"You can't have anymore of those until midnight. Also, you said you were feeding me?" She grinned, and on queue her belly rumbled to life with hunger. Bellamy chuckled and got up.
He disappeared into the little kitchen and clattered around before she got up and joined him, leaning on the wall and peering at him. He noticed her.
"I got you pizza, albeit my favorite pizza. I know you love pizza though, so no harm there." He presented the fresh pizza, prepared by someone else but not frozen. It looked divine.
"Just need to cook it quickly." He turned the oven on. "And if you play your cards right…" He moved to the fridge and opened it, letting her peek. She vaguely say a clear container with what looked to be cupcakes. Chocolate cupcakes. She drooled a little.
"Are you trying to butter me up for something?" She asked, wondering why he'd be so good to her. He laughed and shut the door, coming back over to her.
"Just making sure you're nourished." He put his hands on her waist and went for a kiss but she turned her cheek. "Damnit." He remembered she had cut him off until midnight. He opted to take her hand, pulling her to the couch where he sat her down and brought the TV to life. He bestowed the remote upon her lap as if it were a coveted trophy and let her pick the binge for the evening. It was only a few minutes past ten, so they had plenty of time before midnight should they actually make it that long before falling asleep. They settled in and she picked a show called Forged in Fire, which was modern blacksmithing. It was so interesting and Bellamy had no protests on her decision. A half hour later the over had preheated and cooked their pizza, which Bellamy served them on the couch. He actually brought the entire pizza out onto the coffee table and they plucked at it as they sat and watched TV. It was so peaceful, cozied up enough to be comfy without being in each others space. Clarke managed one massive slice of pizza and then half of another. Bellamy finished it for her when she whined she wouldn't have room for a cupcake. Like planned though, she did get her cupcake. Turned out to be a triple chocolate cupcake. She savored every bite of it, Bellamy having one alongside her. It took him every ounce of willpower to not lean over and lick the chocolate from the corner of her mouth. So much so he excused himself to clean up. What he wasn't expecting was Clarke to call his bluff.
As he turned after putting the leftovers away, she stood there, her back to his counter and her finger covered in a dollop of frosting. He looked at her with this threatening yet pleading glare. Teasing him, she popped the finger into her own mouth and very seductively sucked the frosting from it, her eyes not dropping from his. A moment of hesitation was all he could manage before he lunged like an animal after prey. His hands found her waist and he pulled her into him, their bodies contacting as much as two could standing face to face. Her lips were sweet, her mouth still breaking down the chocolaty frosting. His goal was her taste though, not the cupcake. Clarke's arms found their place around his neck and she gave into his kiss. He hiked her up onto the narrow counter top, her head hitting the cupboard behind her enough to cause him a pause. She brushed it off and found his lips again, hungrily.
Clarke had him nestled up against her, between her legs. She pressed her knees in slightly, to put pressure on his thighs and test the field. She wanted to wrap them around his waist but she was hesitant if not nervous. She could feel his hands falling down her sides, lowering from her ribs to her love handles and that made her react involuntarily. Her legs moved to wrap around his waist, just above his hips and the action caused him to cock his head in their kiss while trying to hide a guttural moan. He nipped her bottom lip in reply, a silent warning. A smirk broke into their kiss, making it a bit sloppy as she pressed his heels into his back, pulling him against her. Only denim was saving him at this point. A groan came out at the close contact of feeling how pressed together they were. She couldn't think anything of it because he suddenly scooped her off the counter and took her to the sofa. She could tell he didn't know if he should set her down or sit down with her on top so he opted for the latter, as a safe bet. A position of power, he may not realize what he's done to himself. Straddling him, she nestled her hips down ever so slightly, the bridge of taught denim and her stretched out sweats being their only safety right now. He broke their kiss.
"I'll warn you now, you keep that up and I'll want to take you to the bed." He was stern but honest, not in a threatening way but more a warning. Letting her know what could transpire should she want it. She studied the thought for all of a few seconds, her mind clouded by lust right now. Anxiety wasn't in the mix, just pure lust. One hand came to the nape of his neck, her nails grazing the skin there. The other ran up his chest before snaking to the other side of his neck. Her tongue idly dancing on her own lips before she leaned in, and planted a wet pair of lips against his. This kiss was different, like if they were talking and the tone had changed to pure understanding and honesty. That was this kiss. She leaned into him, his head tilting back against the couch just enough to compensate for the closeness of their chests and the height she had on him in this position. She sat up on him only slightly, the heat dissipating between them only for a moment before sitting down with more pressure. It was a tiny gesture but made a big impact, a rumble hitting his throat. His hands found her hips and held on to her with a grip of lust, pushing her body down onto his. Now she was the one to moan. That little vibration in her throat set Bellamy off. She could only imagine his thought process right now because he quickly stood, her still in his lap. Letting her stand on her own two feet, he gave her one chance to back out. A single look and pause in time to say no. She ticked her head up one tiny nod and he took the queue and her hand, leading her to his room. There was a still silence around them despite the background noise as she was led to this man's room.
His room was dark upon entering, the ceiling lacking a light source by what seemed to be choice as Bellamy leaned over and turned on the lone lamp. A warm glow filled the room and she saw it more clearly than before. Very clean and tidy, nothing out of place but not pristine and unlived-in. Her eyes didn't wander long enough before he pulled her into another kiss. They stood at the foot of his bed sharing their lips for a few moments before she turned him and shoved him to sit back on his bed. That is when she saw it; The letter sat on his bedside table unrolled and revealed. In that moment, she felt the same vulnerability as that pile of paper.
"You read the letter." She stated, not really asking. The heat in the room hung in the air, threatening to dissipate. Her eyes on the paper then quickly, without a blink, on him. He looked over at the paper and back to her.
"Of course." He seemed cooled off from the heat they just shared, but not phased in any other way. Words felt like they needed to happen, but Clarke couldn't manage that. She didn't really know why she felt the way she did or how to justify it, so she just stood there with a red in her cheeks and looking at him, trying to read him. He sat up a bit and moved over, giving her room to sit. She did, as he guided her to do so, his hands never leaving her own. He leaned over and took the papers into his hand. "Did you think I wouldn't?" He asked.
"I knew you would. I guess I'm just nervous about how you'd receive everything I had to say." Her honesty was welcome and he smiled.
"Well…" He began explaining how he felt about what he had read.
Bellamy climbed into bed, his bare back against the matte grey headboard. In his hand were the rolled up papers Clarke had tucked into his gift. As per her request, he was alone and finally had a minute to dedicate to reading what she had to say. He unrolled the paper, which was more than one sheet. A little staple held the three sheets together in the corner, like a school essay. He scanned the document and noted the imperfections in the paper, or the circled water stain with a scribble indicating it was a tear and very specifically nothing gross. He smiled. Her handwriting was pretty, though as it went on it got sloppy and he had to remind himself she was a nurse. Chicken scratch was second nature in the medical field. With his glasses on, he began to read what she took her time to write.
"Bellamy,
If you're actually reading this, that means I managed to stop scrapping my words in the trash can. It scared me how nervous I get around you, but not because I'm scared of you. I'm scared of who I am around you, and how you make me feel. I think it's been that way since I met you. When I met O, she warned me about how you would be a pain to deal with. Not worried about her own well-being, but worried about upsetting you because of how deeply you cared for her. I learned that day that when you care about someone, you put everything you have into it. You love unconditionally and wholly. Hell, even with Murphy. No matter what wrong he does, you see him for the best side of him. I think I knew that about you the day I met you but didn't really let myself understand it until I left.
My heart hurts when I think about that. Leaving.
While I was in Africa for those four months, I spent more time than I should have, thinking about why I left. I ended up being honest with myself at some point, realizing I ran away from the fallout, the attention on me, the vulnerability. I know that Roan and his behavior is in no way my fault, much as your actions are also not on me, but I let him into my life knowing he was no good for me. I let myself settle on something that wasn't right or good for me and when it blew up, I was in a bad head space. When I was told you had beaten him, I was so mad. I was mad that somehow these two circles in my life collided and in a bad, head-on-collision kind of way. I kept that side of my life separate from the rest of it, like my affair was the red-headed stepchild to my otherwise normal and beautiful life. So having him trickle in to the good side made me see red. I was furious for months and blind to how I had hurt everyone by leaving, especially you. While I was over there, I stopped being mad at you. I realized you acted out of passion and care, and that I knew all along you were that type of soul. I knew that from the day I met you and I realized that the way I left, the things I had said, and the anger I held was more damaging than you bashing some assholes face in. At one point I even felt grateful for your action. Going through all of those thoughts and emotions, being able to see things objectively, I realized I had a lot to fix. So I started writing myself notes, reminders even. So when I came home, I could fix everything if anyone would let me. I kept all of those notes, maybe I'll share them with you.
I know I'm rambling, but what I am trying to get to is the fact that I forgive you. I forgave you before I ever came home. I know you know this but I also know I never said this and so I wanted to tell you. You deserve that, you deserved it then. I realized I never once apologized to you for what I said that night. I was so angry, but I was so wrong. You were my friend in that moment, regardless of how you acted upon it. You were caring with your whole heart. I should have never tried to cut you down just because I had felt to low myself. I was sorry then, and I am sorry now.
You are my friend, my best friend. I told myself after Halloween that I knew that. Of course, after I sat and had to over-analyze everything about us kissing, ultimately coming to the conclusion that there was nothing to analyze. No matter what transpires, we have a foundation between us that can withstand anything. I've recently felt more and more strongly about that and the prospect of this relationship. I need you in my life, there is no second guessing that and I am more than willing to see just how involved in my life you'll become. In saying that, I also realized I'm scared shitless of you and how you make me feel. When I left I had to face my own vulnerability, at an all time high from what had happened. That has always been my weakness, being vulnerable. You make me feel vulnerable in a completely different way, like it's a strength and not a weakness. You make me nervous, Bellamy Blake. Like, grade-school crush, first kiss, on stage in front of everyone full roaring butterflies through my whole body.
I can't promise I won't still be a mess, after all I have been since we met. Well, more rightly I should call you the mess given I poured hot coffee on you. I feel like we were supposed to be here, together. This goes against all logical thought, but I'm taking a page out of your book and following my heart at this point. Anyways, I can promise you I'll give you my effort, no matter how much like a scared little girl you make me feel. Thank you for being in my life. Thank you for staying in my life.
This new year will be so much better than last, come hell or high water, we'll be together.
Clarke"
Bellamy had tears splattered on his once clean lenses. The third sheet of paper was an array of sticky notes taped to the paper. Each one said something different about Bellamy such as things like a reminder to apologize, and to forgive him verbally. To thank him for his care and remind him of how they met and how their friendship wasn't circumstantial. A yellow one with just his name written in doodles. One covered in negatives about him which had an arrow pointing to it on the paper stating it was a list of charming annoyances. He felt heavy and light all at once and resisted to urge to call Clarke right then. He eventually would drift off, content at heart.
Tears stained her cheeks and she was smiling bashfully. "I'm a mess." She chuckled rubbing the moisture from her cheek. He laughed at her and pulled her hand from her face before cupping it himself.
"A beautiful mess." He smiled sweetly. "You may be the head of the lion, but you poured your heart out to me in that letter and I could have never dreamed of a better present. Every stumble of your words and how you rambled on just proved how much of YOU you were putting into it." He released her face and wiped his hands on his pants. "Not to mention how cute your annotations were. I'm still not convinced that water stain wasn't something more diabolical." He smirked.
Fresh tears spilled out of her eyes while she smile-pouted.
"I know I wrote it but I still want to say it." She composed herself only a tiny bit. "I am sorry."
He leaned in, cupping her face once more and kissed her. A sweet, pointed kiss.
"I am sorry too." He whispered, their foreheads pressed together. The air in the room was so light and full in the best way. They silently moved to lay in bed, him holding her. The emotions were good ones, but that didn't mean they didn't need time to settle. His heart felt swollen in his chest replaying the letter in his head as he held her and stroked her shoulder as she was pressed against his chest. Minutes passed like this, the weight of how he really felt settling down on him.
"I've thought about it too." He broke the silence, and she sat up on her elbow with a questioning look on her face. "How we met. How Monty and Raven knew one another but our paths never crossed until that one day." He looked at her, lovingly, noticing her smile.
"It would be Octavia." Clarke laughed at the suggestion as he made it. "She's made our worlds collide by brute force, breaking things in the process."
"Technically, it was me." She scooched up and rested her chin on his chest. Now he looked puzzled. "I dumped scalding hot coffee on this gorgeous chest of yours, so I should get all the credit." She stuck her tongue out at him. With a full smile, he pulled her up to him and met her lips with a playful kiss. It wasn't as heated and lusty as before, which was to be expected. It was hard to go from passionate to weighed down with vulnerability to just plain happy. The transition of moods was perfectly acceptable to both of them as they made out like teenagers on his bed for a few minutes before they opted to go back to the sofa because Clarke was dehydrated and it caught up with her. Carefully, he showered her in beverages and made sure she consumed enough as they watched a movie. She didn't last long before passing out in his arms on the couch. A comfortable lull in the room as he allowed himself to drift off knowing it was her, it was Clarke Griffin in his arms.