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CHAPTER 15 : Talk to me

26/02/2019

Clarke was pretty sure she was dreaming.

She couldn't describe her dream really, it was all messy and nonsensical. She seemed to be in a restaurant, or maybe in a hotel. Whatever was happening, there was a weird, repetitive sound she couldn't explain. It was getting more and more unbearable, especially since she couldn't understand where it was coming from. The sound intensified, more and more…

And she woke up.
The sound was still there.

She opened her eyes, and immediately noticed the light coming from her phone. She stared at it, confused, until she finally understood what was happening.
Her phone was buzzing, because someone was calling her.

She suddenly straightened, wondering who could call so late in the night. Her heartbeat accelerated as she imagined the worse. What if her mother had an accident? What if she had to leave Arkadia for an emergency? What was going on?

She asked herself all of these questions within seconds, the time it took to grab her phone and see who was calling her. It wasn't her mother, or an unknown number. She knew perfectly who it was, but the shock of seeing his name on the screen kept her in a blaze for a moment.
She picked up just in time.

"Bellamy?" she immediately said.

He didn't answer. Instead, she could only hear his breathing. It was fast. Too fast.

"Bellamy, are you alright?"

"I…" he could only say.

She immediately knew. Because she'd been through it herself.
He was having a panic attack.
Clarke got up, feeling the need to move while she talked to him.

"Okay, listen to me," she said. "Focus on my voice. You're gonna take a deep breath, slowly, and then you're gonna get it all out. I'm gonna do it with you. Inhale."

She did, loudly so he could hear her.

"Hold it a second," she said. "Exhale."

She continued for a few minutes.
It wasn't easy, but at some point he started breathing normally. She kept doing it with him, wishing she was by his side. It probably wasn't the first time it had happened to him. Even after he'd calmed down, he didn't say a word.

"Do you need me to come?" she suggested. "I can take a uber. I'll be here in half an hour…"

"No. It's fine," he said, his voice shaking.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's late. Don't worry."

Easier said than done. She found it really hard not to go to him right then. She wanted to be there, to hold him in her arms. She'd never seen him like this before.
But she could easily guess what the source of those panic attacks was.

"Can you… talk to me?" he suggested.

She sat on her bed, frowning. She was still worried sick for him. She could do what he asked, but she wasn't convinced it'd be enough. She should be with him.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked anyway.

"Anything. Just talk to me. Please."

She sighed, still hesitating about what she should do. Maybe she could talk to him while being on her way to his place? But he'd probably guess what she was doing anyway. She bit her lip, thinking.

"Okay," she finally conceded.

She would stay home and talk to him. But if there was the slightest sign Bellamy wasn't feeling well, she'd immediately go to him. With or without his permission.

"I… uh… My mom called me today," she said, because she didn't know what else she could tell him.

"Hmm?"

"It's always weird, you know. Cause… like, I love my mom. I do. We're just so different on so many things. I feel like it's so hard to talk to her. I don't know. I feel like she doesn't understand me. But then again, she knew I was… going through a tough time."

"You were?" he asked, and she noticed the interest in his voice.

"Yeah, I mean… It wasn't easy, recently. I didn't have a job. I lived at her house. It was just… yeah. Anyway, I think underestimate her. She cares much more than she shows."

"That reminds me of someone," Bellamy said, teasing her.

Clarke remained silent for a moment.

"Uh, what?"

"You always try to hide your emotions. Sometimes it's frustrating cause I don't know what you think. But sometimes you're just like an open book." he explained.

Clarke didn't know what to say, because goddamnit, he could always see through her. Even now.

"Anyway," she said, avoiding the subject. "My mom. She's the one who convinced to come back here, you know?"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I should meet her one day, then. To thank her."

Clarke's heat sank. The idea of Bellamy coming back with her, meeting her mom, hurt so much. It was like a fantasy. It just reminded her that soon she wouldn't even be able to talk to him. And it wouldn't be because he didn't remember, but because he wouldn't want her in his life.
Clarke fight back her tears and cleared her throat before she spoke again.

"Yeah. Maybe one day."

Maybe not.

"Hopefully," he added, as if he somehow knew how uncertain this future was.

She was desperately looking for something else to talk about. She needed to think about anything but the future. She looked around and spotted the desk in front of the bed.

"You had your own space, you know? At my workshop, I mean."

"I did?"

"You had a desk with notebooks, pens and everything. I'd put it all there for your birthday."

This time, it was Bellamy who remained silent for a moment.

"I'm sure I loved it," he said.

The emotion she heard in his voice felt like a slap in her face.
His voice sounded exactly the same as it did when he thanked her, that day.
Clarke smiled sadly, remembering his face when he discovered his gift. She had to take a deep breath before being able to speak again.

"You did. You loved it so much."

She had to stop, to wipe a tear off her cheek.

"You spent so much time there, writing," she continued. "One time you stayed for a whole weekend. I don't even know what you were writing. I remember… observing you while you were thinking. I could tell when you were frustrated, or satisfied, or both at the same time."

She could still see it if she closed her eyes. His brows frowning, his curls falling on his eyes, his hands moving as he'd write something down.
Bellamy didn't say anything.

"The drawing you kept… I drew you the very first time you came to write there," she explained.

"Oh."

Maybe she was making it all up, but she felt like she understood him perfectly, even with a simple 'oh'. She knew what he was feeling, because she was feeling the same. Sadness, but also a kind of joy. Melancholy, for a life only she remembered.

'They are the parts that are missing, but only in my head, and not in my heart. I need the puzzle to be complete' he'd told her.
In the end, they both felt that emptiness in their life.

"I see it differently, now," he said. "I… I didn't look through the other drawings, yet. I was hoping I could discover them with you, just like last time."

She wasn't sure it was a good idea, but she accepted anyway.

"Okay."

They remained silent for so long after that, Clarke was convinced Bellamy had fallen asleep. She listened to his breathing for a moment – the sound was oddly comforting. She was about to say goodbye and hang up when he spoke again :

"I saw you," he murmured, sleepy.

"What?"

Bellamy yawned.

"At the hospital. I saw you. You came to visit me."

Clarke froze.

"Why did you look so sad?" he asked, as if talking to himself.

Clarke didn't even remember hanging up. She only remembers the shock she felt, hearing those words.
He remembered her from that day. That horrible day.

And it was just a terrible reminder that he was getting closer to the truth, the one she wished he never discovered.


16/12/2015

Clarke found him on her doorstep. Which wasn't a shock, really. He'd been spending half of his time at her place, recently.
What was shocking however was the fact he was drunk.

"Bellamy!" she exclaimed, both pissed and worried.

He stepped into the apartment, one of his hand pressed on his forehead as if he was having a headache.

"I'm not drunk," was the first thing he said.

Clarke closed the door behind him.

"You don't look like it," she said, taking his arm to help get to the couch.

"I'm not that drunk," he corrected.

He sat, sighing. Clarke was standing before him, her arms crossed. Bellamy closed his eyes, ignoring her. It pissed her off even more.

"Bellamy," she said firmly, clearly expecting an explanation.

"Clarke."

"What happened?" she insisted.

Bellamy shrugged.
Clarke rolled her eyes, frustrated. He was acting just like the first time they'd met. Like an asshole. She hated this Bellamy.
She picked up a cushion and threw it at him. It hit him in the chest.

"Ouch!"

He opened his eyes then, but only to stare accusingly at her.

"You either explain what's going on now or you get out of here," she said.

She didn't actually mean it, because she wouldn't let him go alone knowing he'd been drinking. She was only hoping he'd believe her.
Bellamy kept staring at her, his eyes narrowing. He was suspicious, but she didn't show any hesitation. She stared back, her jaw clenched.
After a few seconds, Bellamy closed his eyes again.

"Have a guess," he said.

Clarke felt relieved he'd told her something, but she also felt bad because of course he'd just had an argument with Gina.
She sighed and sat beside him.

"What was it about, this time?"

He took his time to answer. She patiently waited, watching his face. It looked like he was asleep, but she knew he wasn't.

"She's thinking about going to England," he said.

Clarke nodded. That wasn't new.

"Permanently," he added.

"Oh."

That was new.
And a bit scary, too.

Because if Gina wanted to move to England, then Bellamy could decide to follow her. She was his girlfriend, after all. If he loved her, then he would go. Because it was Bellamy. He always thought about the others first.
And Clarke couldn't help but think it meant she'd never see him again.

She'd already lost her friendship with Wells because of this. Now she was about to live the exact same scenario, except this time she wasn't sure she could just… let it happen.
It would hurt.

She wanted to ask him. She wanted to know if he planned on going or not. But she was too afraid of his answer. Instead, she remained silent as she got up to fetch a glass of water and an aspirin. She had to keep her mind occupied.
At the exact moment she put the glass down on the coffee table in front of him, Bellamy talked.

"You know, when I met Gina I didn't think she was interested in me," he said.

Clarke straightened, surprised by his sudden declaration. His eyes were opened, but he was staring at the ceiling. She didn't say anything.

"She was older than me, and more mature. I mean, I was only three years younger, but I always felt like a kid when I was with her."

He smiled, thinking about it. Clarke felt something weird in her chest, like a pinch. She couldn't explain it, but it didn't feel great.
She sat back on the couch beside Bellamy.

"But she never treated like I was stupid or anything. She was kind, and she actually listened to me. I fell in love with her because of that," he continued.

She watched him swallow hard. She didn't know what to say, but she also had a feeling she didn't need to. He just wanted to talk about it, like he never did before.

"And you know what's crazy? I was convinced she didn't like me like that, until she kissed me one night."

Clarke looked away from his face. She couldn't help but feel like she shouldn't know this. Maybe because it was too intimate. Maybe because she wasn't sure she wanted to hear this story.
Bellamy didn't add anything else, his jaw clenched. Clarke felt his sadness, his pain. It made her mad. He didn't deserve it.

~oOo~

At some point, Bellamy fell asleep.

Clarke let him. Better to have him here knowing he was doing okay.
She watched a stupid Christmas movie, making sure it wasn't too loud to disturb him.
Something was bothering her, however.

Within an hour, Bellamy's phone buzzed at least six times. Each time, Clarke startled.
She knew exactly who was sending him all of these texts. Not only because it was easy to guess, but also because she could see a glimpse of Gina's name on the screen for each text.

When Bellamy received another message, Clarke bit her lip. She was torn between ignoring all of them, as it was none of her business, and waking Bellamy up to warn him.

The thing was, she didn't want to let him go. But she also knew Gina was worried about him, and Clarke wasn't doing anything to reassure her. She didn't how she felt about Gina. She'd really liked her when she met her, yet she couldn't reconcile this image with the one she'd made up in her head – of an ungrateful girlfriend.
But Clarke didn't have the right to judge her, and even less to make a decision for her.
She sighed.

"Hey," she said, gently shaking Bellamy's shoulder.

"Mmmh…"

"Wake up," she whispered. "We gotta go."

It took him sometime to open his eyes and to straighten, but once he did he seemed to be in a better mood.
Clarke was already putting her shoes on.

"Where are we going?" he asked, confused.

Clarke got up, picked up his phone on the table and handled it to him.

"I'm bringing you home."

~oOo~

Clarke stopped the car. They were parked just a few feet away from the building.

Bellamy sighed, but didn't get out.
They'd remained silent during the entire trip. He wasn't mad at her, she was sure of that, but he still didn't like the idea of facing Gina again.
Clarke knew it would be just fine. Gina'd probably be so relieved she wouldn't even think about their argument.

"Thanks," Bellamy murmured.

Clarke didn't have the time to say anything, because someone had just gone out of the building and was getting closer to them.
Gina. Clarke had forced Bellamy to call her as they were on their way, so it made sense she'd been waiting for them.

Bellamy got out then, and so did Clarke.
Gina's attention was focused on Bellamy, who stood still by the car. She didn't even hesitate before taking him in her arms, relieved.
Clarke looked away.

She heard them whispering without being able to understand them. In that moment, she wished she could disappear.
After a little while, Gina came to her.

"Thank you," she said.

Clarke shrugged.

"It's fine."

"No, really," Gina insisted, putting a hand on her arm. "Thank you for taking care of him."

She smiled at Clarke, with so much honesty Clarke didn't feel she deserved it. But she smiled back and nodded, because it was easier to remember she did truly like Gina. She wanted to, at least.
But Clarke didn't do this for her.

Gina then turned around, reaching for Bellamy's hand. He took it. Clarke didn't look at him. He was home and safe. It was the only thing that mattered.
Gina turned her attention back to Clarke one last time before going back to their apartment.

"I'll see you around, then," she told Clarke.

"Sure."

Once again, Clarke felt bad. Not because she didn't want to see Gina again, but because she didn't know if she wanted to.
She locked eyes with Bellamy for a second, then he was on his way to his home, still holding Gina's hand.

Clarke watched them leave. She waited until they were inside and she couldn't see them anymore, before getting back into her car.