Hi!

I'm very sorry for the wait. I wanted these chapters to be edited before publishing them, so you wouldn't be distracted by the typos and grammar errors. But just know that I thank every one of you for reading this story, following it, and for you kind reviews.

Enjoy! And happy new year!

(Also, yes, I did change the chapters' titles)

CHAPTER 9: NO SUGAR

14/02/2019

Clarke was trying her best not to freak out. She could see the park where she was supposed to meet Bellamy, her heart beating faster the closer she got. She was fighting the little voice in her head that was telling her 'run in the opposite direction'. She thought about Abby, who had convinced her to do the right thing. About Raven, who Clarke knew only wanted the best for her, even if she was still pissed at her. About Monty and Harper, who had gladly agreed to let her stay in their house while they were away.

She hadn't come all this way just to give up.

She had a plan. If he had questions, she would answer. She wouldn't lie, or at least she would try not to. She would give him the answers he wanted. But she wouldn't give him anything else. No more details, no more memories. Only what he needed to know. He wasn't supposed to be aware of what happened the night of the accident. Officially, she wasn't even there. Which meant he wouldn't ask about it.

She would stay a week, maybe two. She would pretend to be interested in his project if she had to. Then she would have the chance to say goodbye, for real. She had never had the opportunity to write a proper ending to her story. It had been chaotic, awful. He wouldn't know how much it all meant for her, but it didn't matter. It was a way to make peace with her past while keeping the demons away.

She would leave and he would move on. The weight on her shoulders would be lighter. Hopefully it would be enough, and she would move on too.

But to do that, she had to face him first.

She finally reached the park, her head buzzing. She was so nervous, she wondered if she was going to throw up. She looked around her, looking for his black curls. When she didn't see him, she walked a bit further. Children were playing. An old couple was taking a walk. A jogger was drinking water. A guy was sitting on a bench.

She took a second glance.

Bellamy was sitting on a bench, waiting for her.

She turned around before she could even think about doing anything else. She had to leave, now. She would go back to Monty and Harper's house, pick up her suitcase, take a taxi and get on the next plane. She would block his number and act as if nothing happened. She would forbid her friends to tell h…

"Hey!" a voice called behind her.

A voice she knew too well.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She kept up her pace. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't do this. It was a mistake. She shouldn't be here. Panic was taking control of her body.

He called again.

"Hey!"

She didn't react and walked faster. Maybe he would let her go. He had to let her go. What else could she do? She had to hide somewhere, pretend she didn't know who he was…

"Claire."

He caught her arm. She jolted, not expecting him to catch up with her so fast.

Too late.

His touch was gentle, his voice calm. He loosened his grip on her arm, but didn't let go of her. He stepped in front of her, forcing her to face him. She was looking down, trying to breathe properly. She could hear her heart beating fast.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She closed her eyes. Calm down.

She nodded.

"Yeah. I'm fine." she said, hoping he wouldn't notice the tremble in her voice

She clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. She focused on his plaid shirt. She knew this shirt, she realized. She'd seen him wearing it a few times in the past. The familiarity of it reassured her.

"You sure?"

She had to be more convincing if she didn't want him to suspect something. She mustered up all her courage and raised her head, looking straight into his eyes. For some reason, she expected to see hate or anger. But there was only kindness. Suddenly, she felt like the Clarke she used to be. She was reminded of what it was like to be his friend, to be by his side almost every day. She felt safe, because it was Bellamy.

She was with Bellamy, and he didn't hate her.

Everything would be fine.

"Yes." she said, and this time she was telling the truth.

He let go of her arm.

"Great," he said, relieved. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind."

She thought about the message she'd sent him. She didn't have the guts to call him.

'I'm coming back in town in two days. Maybe we could meet.'

And that was it. She'd spent an hour trying to find the words, so at some point she just wrote something and sent it before she could think of deleting it. He answered exactly seven minutes later. They felt like hours as she paced back and forth in her room, waiting for her phone to buzz.

'Is Thursday okay for you?' he'd said.

She let him pick the time and place. And there she was.

"Oh really?" she said, trying to laugh it off as if she hadn't been trying to flee a minute ago.

"Yeah," he laughed. "I'm just uh… I'm just really glad you're here."

Her heart skipped a beat. He was being so honest with her. The way he was moving, talking, smiling was just so much… him. And he was looking at her as if she was an angel, a miracle. It was too much to handle.

She realized how important this was for him. He was not only happy to see her, but he was also hopeful. And it hurt, because she deserved none of this.

"Oh," was all she said, because she couldn't come up with anything else.

She smiled, though. She didn't want to give him false hope, but she didn't want to be a jerk either. She wasn't staying for long, but a part a her wished she could stay with him forever, hiding from the others.

"Do you know the neighborhood?" he asked her.

She took a look around.

"Uh… yeah. A bit."

She knew it pretty well, actually. It wasn't far from the school she used to work at. She wasn't lying, really. She just didn't want to give out too many details.

"Okay, great," he said, playing with his hair. "I thought maybe we could talk in a café?"

He indicated a street with his hand, inviting her to follow him. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that anyone could see them there, together. Including people she used to know and whom she wanted to avoid at all cost.

"Yeah, sure."

She followed him, unsure of where he was taking her. She let him show her the way, walking a few feet behind him. It also was a way for her to avoid being too close to him. She still had a hard time controlling her emotions, and the simple fact of having him near her made her nervous. She was afraid of her own reactions.

After a few minutes though, Bellamy noticed how far behind she was and he slowed his pace so they could walk side by side. Clarke winced. He was so much like the Bellamy she knew.

They were silent, but Clarke felt like everything was so loud. She was convinced he could hear her heart beating, her breath quickening, her mind thinking. She was aware of each of his movements, she could almost feel his arm touching hers.

She focused on her steps. One, two, three, four…

"Here we are," he said.

He pointed at a small café at the end of the street. She noticed his other hand playing with the strap of his bag, and it suddenly occurred to her that he might also be anxious. He smiled at her, as if looking for her approval. That's when she noticed the flower shop behind him.

Her heart sank.

She knew exactly where he was taking her. She'd been there before, countless times. With him. She'd been so distracted, she hadn't realized where they were going.

"Do you… Do you come here often?" she asked him.

She'd stopped walking, a bit shocked. She hadn't been expecting this.

"Uh…" he said, confused. "Not really."

Seeing she still wasn't moving, he frowned.

"But I walk past it almost every day. My apartment is a few streets away," he added.

So, he didn't remember. But out of all the cafés in the city, this was the one he chose. It couldn't be a coincidence. It scared the shit out of her.

"Okay," she said and started walking again.

When they arrived, she was surprised to see how much it had changed. The furniture wasn't the same. She didn't recognize the employees. It made sense, obviously. A lot of things can happen in more than two years. She should know that.

They went to sit at a small table by the window. It was so casual and so familiar, yet so strange. Everything looked like a copy of what used to be, but at the same time it felt completely different.

They didn't wait long to order something, which was convenient for Clarke because it gave her a reason not to look at Bellamy, seated in front of her. She ordered a cappuccino. Then it was Bellamy's turn.

A black coffee, she thought. No sugar.

"A black coffee," he only said.

"No sugar."

Shit.

It just… came out of her mouth. She didn't have time to think. What an idiot. He used to say that all the time, it felt weird not to say it. She was mortified. She couldn't look at him.

"Uh, yeah?" he said.

She could hear the surprise in his voice. Fuck. She messed up. Ugh.

She avoided his gaze, waiting for her hot drink. Her heart was beating fast again. Being with Bellamy was fucking draining. She felt exhausted. And she hated herself. When they both got their drinks, she focused on hers, blowing on it. God, she felt so stupid.

"So," he said. "You're an artist."

She took a quick look at him, not daring to raise her head. She felt so ashamed. She wondered what he was thinking.

"Yeah," she said.

"Okay."

She glanced at him again, a bit longer this time. He was smiling. Not only that, but there was amusement in his eyes. This idiot.

He thought the situation was funny.

"So, what is it that you wanted?" she said, hoping she was sounding confident.

The least she could do was try to look like everything was fine and she knew what she was doing. By taking the control of the conversation, she would feel more secure. She forced herself to look at him. It worked. He was suddenly very serious.

"I…" he started.

He picked up his bag and opened it. For a moment he just stared at it, frowning. He seemed hesitant. She waited for him to take something out of it, but he didn't move. He clenched his jaw. Then he locked eyes with her. His stare was so intense she couldn't look away. He put the bag aside.

"I'm gonna be honest with you," he declared.

She felt panic took over her body again. What did he mean? She watched him take something out of his pocket and put it on the table. She couldn't see what it was, his hand still hiding it.

"I wanted to talk to you for a reason. And I'm going to ask you to be honest with me, too," he said.

He removed his hand from the table. Clarke took a breath, slowly losing control of her emotions. She was surprised to discover a small piece of paper. She was more confused than ever. She slowly reached for it, trying to keep her hands from shaking. It was fragile and old, worn down from being folded again and again. She unfolded it.

When she was six, she'd fallen out of a tree. She remembered the shock was so brutal she couldn't breathe for a few seconds.

It was exactly how she felt when she saw the drawing, only ten times worse. She froze.

No. It was impossible.

"Do you see the letters on the back?"

She saw her hands turn the paper around, as if she was just a witness. She felt completely disconnected. She barely registered anything when she read 'I see you. C.G.' No. No.

The painting. The letters. He knew.

"You drew this, didn't you?" he asked.

But she couldn't say anything. She couldn't even move. This was not happening. She was dreaming. She was going to wake up any minute.

He reached for her hand. She startled.

"Hey," he said, his tone reassuring.

With his other hand, he carefully took the drawing out of her grip and put it beside him. She looked at him, completely lost. He leaned in, staring at her intensely. He sighed.

"We knew each other," he said.

It wasn't a question or a thought. It was a statement. Because Bellamy Blake had figured it out. Everything had changed. Her plan was ruined.

She nodded, closing her eyes.

"Claire," he said, and she wished he'd called her by her real name. "I need to know more. Please."

It was too late. She couldn't just pretend nothing happened anymore. She'd made too many mistakes. It was Bellamy. She knew he wouldn't let her go until she'd told him the truth. Or at least, the truth he wanted to hear.

"Okay," she finally said. "But I need you to promise me something in return."

She heard him sigh, relieved.

"Sure," he said.

She opened her eyes and raised her head.

"Don't tell anyone."