CHAPTER 22 : Stay

14/03/2019

He came into the lobby, his body slightly tensed, expecting to be called out before he could even take a few steps. He looked around him – it was a pretty small room, the walls painted an ugly orange, and a carpet that seemed to be older than him. Aside from a few chairs to his left, the only other furniture was a desk at the opposite end of the room, an old woman seated behind it. She was busy talking to someone else and didn't seem to be aware of Bellamy's presence.

He spotted the door leading to the staircase, only a few steps away from him. He hesitated, looking at the receptionist, then slowly moved towards the door. When he reached it, he paused, just in case someone was about to stop him. Nothing happened.

He opened the door and started climbing the stairs, feeling ridiculously nervous. Was he even allowed to do this? Probably not. He wasn't doing anything wrong, he just needed to talk to her. He was surprised by how easy it was, coming in and out as if he was renting a room.

He texted Clarke a few hours ago, telling her he would pass by in the afternoon. He was completely taken aback when she replied she was staying at a hotel. It occurred to him Monty and Harper were probably back from their honeymoon trip, and that he should probably visit them one of these days, but he couldn't believe they would ask Clarke to leave.
So why not stay?

He had an awful feeling about this, in addition to all his conflicted emotions. The previous night had been long and overwhelming. Gina visited him in his dreams, again. It frustrated him, because the more he tried to understand the less the dream made sense. But he couldn't think of that for the moment.
He had so many things to tell Clarke, his head was buzzing. The words were so vivid in his mind he felt his heartbeat accelerating, as if he was already saying them out loud, her beautiful eyes focused on his face.

He reached the second floor. The hallway was decorated in the same bad taste as the lobby was. His eyes were landing on the numbers of each door he was passing by, searching for one in particular: room 36.
When he found it, he stopped for a minute, taking deep breaths.

He wondered how he would feel once the day was over. Everything could change within a second, it only took a word, a look, a touch.
He would take the risk.
He knocked on the door.
He didn't have to wait long, she opened almost immediately.

Only it wasn't Clarke standing in front of him, but a woman with long brown hair hanging loose behind her back, her left hand on her hip and the other on the door, with no facial expression except for one raised eyebrow.
Bellamy frowned, already feeling dumb for having the door number wrong, but before he could apologize the brunette spoke.

"You must be Bellamy."

It was not only confusing, that this girl he'd never met would know about him, but it also didn't sound like being Bellamy was a good thing in her mouth.

"…And you are?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Raven, leave him alone," a voice said behind her.

Raven turned around as Clarke appeared next to her, smiling apologetically at Bellamy. He sighed, relieved to see her.
The brunette snorted. Bellamy scowled.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" he insisted, feeling like he was missing something.

The past few weeks had proven that he couldn't trust himself nor his friends about his memories. Raven grinned, but Bellamy couldn't tell if she was amused by the situation or if she was mocking him.

"We talked on the phone," she said. "I'm the reason this one" – she pointed at Clarke with her thumb – "is even in Arkadia."

Bellamy was a bit stunned. He tried to remember when he could've been phoning this woman…

"Oh," he said, suddenly remembering. "You're her colleague. The other painter."

She was the one who picked up Clarke's phone when he tried to call her for the first time. He remembered her hesitating on Claire Graham's name.
It all made sense suddenly.
Raven froze.

"Yeah…" she said, unconvinced. "So, about that…"

"Raven, please," Clarke interrupted, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, fine," the brunette sighed dramatically, before pointing a finger at Bellamy in a threatening way. "But just so you know, if you hurt her again I-"

"Stop it!" Clarke exclaimed, frustrated.

"You just be careful," Raven finally concluded, and by the look in her eyes Bellamy didn't doubt she would make him pay for it.

He didn't understand the source of this animosity, and he wouldn't dare ask. He had a feeling it would only make it worse.
So instead, he just nodded.
Raven then turned around to pick up a bag, and he noticed she already had a jacket on. She must've been waiting for him to show up before leaving.

"Anyway, I'm just gonna go," she declared, wincing. "I guess I'm gonna have to keep company to the cute barman."

Clarke laughed.

"Don't pretend you're not excited about that."

Raven walked past Bellamy, a smirk on her face.

"See you," she said, not without throwing one last threatening look at Bellamy.

He scowled, watching her leave. He waited until she disappeared out of his sight to focus his attention back on Clarke. Back on what really matters.
The blond was biting her lip, seeming suddenly very shy.
Despite the situation, Bellamy's heart felt lighter inside his chest. It was good to see her.

"Hi," he said, realizing he didn't even say it yet.

"Hi." she replied, her blue eyes locking with his. "Come in."

She stepped aside and he walked in, discovering a simple room with two beds and a desk. She closed the door behind him.
His eyes landed on an open suitcase, the clothes inside of it were still perfectly folded. He frowned.

"When did your friend arrive?" he asked her.

She hadn't mentioned anyone the last time they'd seen each other.
He heard her sigh behind him.

"Yesterday. I wasn't expecting her."

He nodded.

"Is that why you're staying at a hotel?" he asked, his back still on her.

It took her a few seconds to reply.

"Hm, yeah," she finally replied, but he could hear the hesitation in her voice.

She didn't sound convinced by her own words. Bellamy didn't know what to think. With Raven arriving in town, it only made sense Clarke would rent a room in a hotel with her. She wouldn't want to impose her friend's presence on Harper and Monty.
And yet, he couldn't shake this feeling. He just had to make sure.
He turned towards her.

"And if Raven didn't come? Where would you be?" he insisted.

She looked down.
Bellamy winced.
Her silence was far from reassuring him, instead it was only confirming what he already suspected.

"I couldn't stay at Monty and Harper's anymore," she said.

"Why? Did they ask you to leave?"

She sighed.

"No."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, because he knew exactly what it meant. She'd done it before.
He wished he was wrong about this. He guessed it the moment she told him she was in a hotel. And it hurt.
He took a few steps closer.

"You planned on leaving, didn't you?" he murmured.

She slowly shook her head, before looking up. He saw it in her eyes before she could say it out loud.

"I… I'm sorry."

Ouch.

"But why?"

"I didn't see the point in staying in Arkadia, not after what happened," she admitted.

Bellamy remained speechless for a few seconds, his mouth hanging opened.

"What about me?" he asked, desperation in his voice. "Couldn't you stay for me? You promised me you'd tell me ev-"

"I don't want to leave you!" she replied, as if leaving was some impossible, painful idea. "But… Miller and your sister know I'm here. And they hate me. This is only making things worse and…"

She sighed, clenching her fists. Even if he was hurt, he could see how hard all of this was for her. She seemed to be struggling with her own thoughts.

"Whether or not I tell you the truth, you'll know everything soon. It's just a matter of time," she concluded, quietly.

Bellamy swallowed with difficulty, watching as her eyes filled with sadness.
They'd only been reunited for a few minutes, and it already felt like their hearts couldn't be any more broken.
They were broken.

But Bellamy had to believe they could be fixed.
He stepped forward, their bodies getting closer as time was going by, his right hand coming to rest on her cheek. She closed her eyes at the very moment she felt his touch.

"Don't leave. Please," he murmured.

She remained silent.
Bellamy got even closer.

"Please," he begged.

Her brows furrowed, her lips were pursed, but after a moment that seemed to last forever she nodded.

"Okay," she whispered.

Bellamy sighed, relieved even though he knew how much it cost her. Maybe he was being selfish, but he couldn't think straight when it came to Clarke Griffin.
Which was why he needed to know her, and them. He needed to understand the way she saw him, as a whole, with all the memories and secrets he couldn't remember.
He clenched his jaw, knowing she wouldn't like what he was about to tell her.

"My sister came to see me a few days ago."

He felt Clarke's whole body tensed. Her eyes slowly opened, focusing on an invisible point on his chest.

"She said something… I don't know if…" he tried to explain.

Clarke's stare went up to his face. Their eyes locked.

"What?" she asked, her jaw clenched.

"She said you changed me."

The fear he'd first seen in her eyes was quickly replaced by anger.

"Do you believe that?"

"No." he replied firmly.

He didn't. Maybe he didn't want to.
Her face immediately relaxed.

"But I wonder…" he continued. "What happened between us…?"

And maybe he did that on purpose, to make her understand or to see her reaction, but he couldn't help it when his gaze went down her face and landed on her lips.
His heartbeat accelerated, feeling the urge to kiss her. He wanted to, so much.
'Not yet', he thought. So many things had to be said, first.
It didn't matter anyway, because Clarke had stepped back and he couldn't feel her touch on his hand anymore.

"What do you mean?" she asked, unsure.

It didn't sound like a question, really. It felt more like she was waiting for a confirmation.
He took a deep breath.

"We were more than just friends, right?"

The whole world seems to pause.
Then her eyes widened as she nervously rose her hands to her hair, playing with it absentmindedly. She slowly sat on one of the two beds, sighing, staring into the void.
Bellamy waited. And waited. His eyes not leaving her face. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. His palms were sweaty.
She didn't say a word.

"Say something," he implored.

"I don't know what to say."

He walked to her and knelt down, his eyes searching hers.

"Clarke," he murmured, taking her hands in his. "I'm just trying to understand, because…"

He didn't know where to begin, feelings and thoughts all mixing up in his head and making it hard to find the right words. He was starting to understand Clarke and what made her struggle, when she seemed to be tortured by her own memories and what to tell him.
He still had to find a way say it.

"I was dating Gina when you met me, right?" he finally asked her.

At last, Clarke's gaze met his. He saw only worry in her eyes as she nodded. There was no pretending, anymore. They both knew where it was going.

"Then did I…" he cleared his throat. "Did we ever…"

'Did I cheat on her with you', he wanted to ask but couldn't bring himself to.
He hoped not.
God, he hoped not.
But the truth was, it wouldn't really surprise him. Even if he hated to admit it.
Clarke straightened, scowling.

"No! You wouldn't do that. You loved her," she replied, her hands gripping his, as if to convince him.

He nodded, sighing.
So he wasn't a fucking asshole to Gina. She didn't die hating him for what he did. Maybe he was a great boyfriend, even.
Did it make him a good person? He wasn't so sure. Because knowing he didn't act on his feelings didn't erase their existence.

"Well, that's the problem isn't it?" he said quietly, looking up at Clarke.

She frowned, confused.

"I told you –" she started.

"I know what you said."

"Then what…?"

He took a long breath.
'Please don't run away from this', he thought.

"I loved you both at the same time."

He had imagined tons of different scenarios where he told her these exact words, and in each of them her reaction wasn't the same. In some, she ended up with her lips on his. In others, she ended up in tears. Sometimes it was both.
But he didn't imagine this.
She seemed to be frozen in shock, her eyes searching in his, as if she was searching for an answer.

"What?" she asked him, completely lost.

Bellamy frowned. Did she hear him right?

"I loved both of you," he repeated, his voice firm, making sure she could hear him perfectly. "I know it, Clarke. I feel it."

Still in shock, he watched as her eyes slowly teared up and her cheeks reddened. A small, sad smile appeared on his lips.

"Do you know why?" he continued, moving a strand of hair off of her face.

Her tears threatened to fall, but she shook her head. He wondered if, in that very moment, her heart was beating as fast as his.
Carefully, he took one of her hands in his, his thumb stroking her fingers. His gaze focused on her face, he placed her hand on his heart.

"Because my mind doesn't remember you, but my heart, my body does," he told her, the words he'd been waiting to say out loud finally coming out. "I felt it in my chest, the first day I saw you. All this time, I thought I was just… intrigued by you. But now I know it's much more than that. It was like… I was always meant to find my way back to you. As if… I'd find the missing piece to the puzzle."

He felt her hand shaking in his palm, and a tear fell. He wiped it off her cheek.

"I feel whole when I'm with you," he whispered.

He leaned in, still caressing her cheek. Their foreheads were touching.

"I loved you then, and I love you now," he continued, and this time she started sobbing in front of him.

The sight of her crying broke his heart, and at the same time he was in a state of euphoria he couldn't control.
It just felt so good.

"And I think you used to love me, too. Maybe you still do," he concluded.

He was hoping she would do something, anything, to confirm it. But she seemed to be overwhelmed by her own emotions, so instead he sat beside her on the bed and took her in her arms.
She sobbed for a long time. So long that Bellamy felt a lump in his throat, and if he wasn't trying to be strong for her maybe he would've shed a few tears, too. She needed his comfort. Her face buried in his chest, her arms circled his waist.
At some point, the sound of her cries was replaced by only the sound of their breathing. He thought maybe she'd fallen asleep, just like last time, but she straightened to look up at him. Her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her lips were red. But she was still beautiful.
Neither she nor he said anything. They just stared at each other, for what seemed to be a seconds and forever at the same time.
Almost instinctively, their bodies got even closer, only a few inches separating their faces. Bellamy's lips parted as he leaned in...to kiss her. Just as he was about to do so, Clarke spoke.

"I kissed you," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

He stopped.

"What?"

He wasn't even fully able to understand her, all of his senses were focused on her, on her eyes, her lips, her body.

"I kissed you. And I knew about Gina," she said.

Bellamy's heart seemed to stop beating. He suddenly felt a weight on his chest. He slowly moved away from her, just enough to see her face clearly, refusing to take his hands off her.
There had to be an explanation. Why would she…?
He watched as she put a hand on his chest. It was the exact same gesture she did when she pushed away, in the park.
He could already feel the pain invade his body.

"You're a good man, Bellamy, and that's why I don't deserve you," she continued.

"Don't say that."

"I'm not the one you should love."

"Clarke."

She suddenly got up, shaking her head. The sudden absence of her touch hit him full force, as if she'd torn off a part of his body. A missing limb.
It couldn't be happening.
She couldn't break his heart like this.
She turned around to face him, her eyes sad but determined.

"Gina died because of me. Because of the choices I made," she declared, and Bellamy wanted to scream at her, to tell her to shut up.

He wanted her to erase those words and return back to his arms, so they could forget the world and pretend nothing mattered but her loving him and him loving her.
But she wouldn't do that.

"It's true," she said, choked up. "I'm so sorry. You can't love me. Not after what I've done."

For a moment he didn't know what to say, because it hurt so much, he felt like he couldn't even move. He was about to break.
He wanted to beg her. 'Please, please, don't do this'.
He refused to believe her. It couldn't be true.
It could only be a lie, because if it was the truth then it meant he couldn't be with Clarke.
And a world without Clarke was lonely, dull, and depressing. She was the only person making him feel alive in so long.
She walked to the door, opening it. Her jaw clenched.

"You should go," she said weakly.

He felt numb. His mind was attempting to make him understand the weight of her words, but his heart kept him in denial. His thoughts were a mess.
He wished he could say the one thing that would make it all okay, but despite his efforts he never found it.
He barely remembered getting up from the bed, but there he was, standing only a few feet away from Clarke. She was avoiding his gaze.
After a moment, his feet carried his exhausted body away, leaving his heart behind.


02/04/2016

Clarke's head felt like it was about to explode.
Her headache was so intense she could barely tolerate the light coming through her window. She'd shut the curtains, but it wasn't enough.
She was sleeping with a pair of a socks and a sweater on, wrapped up in a duvet, and yet she still had chills running down her spine.

It cost her a lot to admit it, but she was sick as hell.
Going out with her hair wet in the morning probably wasn't a great idea, and she knew the risk, but she did it anyway.
Maybe God was punishing her for loving an man that was already taken. Karma was a bitch. Well, fuck that, 'cause God didn't have to make Bellamy Blake so fucking good looking.

She'd been literally sleeping nonstop for two days, her thoughts didn't make sense anymore. She didn't even know what day or time it was. She just knew everything hurt, especially her head.
She was just emerging from additional hours of sleep when she heard a sound coming from her living room. She didn't immediately understand what was happening, as she was still in a daze, until she heard footsteps.

She opened her eyes, regretting it immediately because the dimmed light was still too bright to her liking. She focused on the sound, wondering if she was imagining it.
The footsteps got closer.
Nope, someone was right there, in her apartment, uninvited.

She hoped it wasn't a robber, or a serial killer, 'cause she knew with absolute certainty she wouldn't be able to defend herself. She watched as the doorknob of her bedroom moved, her eyes widening. Someone was coming in. She held her breath.
The door opened, but her room was too dark for her to distinguish anything more than a silhouette standing in front of her.
She didn't have the time to panic.

"Hey," a familiar voice whispered. "You awake?"

It took her a few seconds to recognize the voice, her brain taking a long time to process the information, but once she did, she felt both frustrated and excited at the same time. Well, as excited as a woman with the flu could be.

"Bellamy," she said, a voice so hoarse it even scared her. "Whacha doin' here…?"

She wondered how he'd come in – hoping she didn't leave her front door opened – and remembered about the spare key she had given Bellamy a few weeks ago. Back when he didn't hesitate to show up at the workshop. He never used it, though, until then.

Aside from a few small talks in the hallways of the school, they hadn't seen each other in weeks. Bellamy hadn't passed by in a long time, and Clarke gave up on asking him to. Ever since her discussion with Gina, she'd been trying to come to terms with the fact that not seeing him anymore was the best thing to do.
Even if it tortured her.

And it wasn't like Bellamy had insisted to spend time with her after Gina's return. He'd been avoiding her more than ever, so in the end she was only making it easier for him.
Which is why she was so surprised to see him standing there, in her bedroom. She wished he'd chosen another time to come see her. She wasn't at her best.
He sat down on her bed, just beside her, as she tried to discern his face.

"Jasper told me you were sick. I thought I should pass by to see how you were doing," he said, careful to speak quietly.

Clarke fought against the desire to close her eyes again, determined to see him clearly.

"Not great," she snorted.

She couldn't decide whether she was happy or mad that he'd finally decided to show up. On one hand, she couldn't deny her heart warmed the second she heard his voice, but on the other hand she felt betrayed. He was a coward. He never had the guts to say goodbye for good, and instead left her with hope and melancholy.
Clarke had to do the job herself, after his girlfriend had asked her to.

"I brought you a soup," he told her.

She spotted the bowl he was holding in his hands, even though she could only guess its shape and size.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

She actually took a few seconds to think about it.

"Dunno," she replied.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"…Yeah," she said, suddenly aware of the unpleasant feeling in her belly.

He chuckled quietly.

"Just wait," he whispered, and got up.

She wanted to ask him to stay just a little longer, to not leave her already. But she remained silent as she watched him leave the room, hoping he would be coming back.
She waited, her eyes closing again. She wondered how much time passed. Maybe it'd already been hours.
'Liar', she thought. He was probably gone.
But then she heard his footsteps come closer again, and she opened her eyes again. It was him, he had't left.
He put down the bowl and a glass of water beside her, on the nightstand.

"I brought you an aspirin, too," he said.

"Hmm."

He straightened again and walked around her bed. She wondered what he was doing when the curtains slightly opened.
She groaned, hiding under the duvet to avoid the light.

"Sorry," she heard him say, his voice muffled. "But you have to see what you're eating."

She sighed. She didn't want to eat anymore.
She felt him sit next to her again. Their bodies would be touching if only for the thick fabric separating them.

His fingers appeared at the top of the duvet, and he slowly pulled it down until her face was fully emerged. She winced, trying to adjust to the light. It took her a while until she was able to open her eyes completely. Her head still hurt, but it was all worth it because she could finally see Bellamy clearly.
He was beautiful, as always, with his pretty curls, cute freckles, and warm eyes. He was smiling at her, but there was something in his eyes she couldn't quite define.

"Can you sit?" he asked her.

She nodded. It took her all her energy to push on her arms and lean on headboard, even with Bellamy helping her. He put another pillow behind her head so she could feel more comfortable.

"Thanks."

He took the bowl of soup with a spoon and put it on her lap. He seemed to hesitate on what to do, the spoon still in his hand.
Clarke scowled.

"Don't you dare," she told him.

Even sick as hell she wouldn't let anyone feed her. She could to it herself.
He snorted and gave her the spoon. For a second, their fingers touched and Clarke froze. But Bellamy quickly took them away, looking down.
No touch, then.

She started eating the soup. It was warm and it tasted so good, she couldn't help but moan. She already felt better, and soon she was rushing to finish it, only stopping to ask for some water.

"Slow down," Bellamy told her, but she could see him fighting a grin.

She ate it all up, licking the spoon until there was nothing remaining. Her belly didn't feel full, but much better. She wouldn't mind a second bowl, but it wasn't a good idea.

"Thank you," she said, finally looking up at Bellamy.

She'd been so focused on eating she was barely aware of him watching her the whole time. He seemed content, as if proud that she liked his soup. Their eyes locked, and suddenly Clarke couldn't take her eyes off him. She felt too tired to do so and would be pretty happy to just stay in bed and look at him until she fell asleep.
Actually, she would love it even more if he was still there when she woke up. She sighed.

"Can you…" she cleared her throat. "Can you give me the aspirin, please?"

He blinked a few times.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Here."

He handed it to her, careful to touch her as little as possible. She noticed it and felt the frustration growing inside of her chest.
God knew all of the things she would throw at him if she had the energy and the envy to do so. She was mad, and hurt, and she hated him for being him.
She swallowed the pill and settled the glass down. She yawned, already feeling exhausted after so little efforts.
Bellamy took the bowl from her lap.

"You should go back to sleep," he said, putting it aside.

She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to be with him.

"I'm not tired."

"Liar."

She squinted at him and crossed her arms. It only made him laugh.

"If I sleep then you'll leave," she told him, deciding to be honest.

He looked down, his jaw clenching. He wouldn't deny it, even though she could see it made him sad. He sighed.

"I can stay a little."

It wasn't enough.
It would never be enough.
But it might be the only thing she could ask of him before he left and avoided her again.
She nodded.

"Until I fall asleep?"

"Yes."

She sank into her bed, pulling the duvet up, right under her chin. Then she stared at him, making sure he was staring back, before murmuring:

"Can you lay down beside me?"

She saw him tense, apparently taken aback by her demand. He immediately started to shake his head, but before he could refuse, she cut him off.

"Please," she begged, hoping he could see in her eyes how much she needed him.

Just one last time.
It wouldn't mean anything.
She only wanted to forget, for a few minutes, that he would soon be gone. That he would go back to Gina and leave her behind.
She wanted to forget how angry she was at him, and at herself.
Until she fell asleep.
Bellamy hesitated.

"Please," she repeated.

His silence seemed to last forever, before he finally sighed and nodded. Clarke relaxed. He silently got up to make his way around the bed, taking his time to lay down beside her. Clarke was on her side, facing the wall, but she could feel him trying to be as far of her as possible.
She winced.
She refused to close her eyes, thinking. They remained silent, but both were extremely aware of the other's proximity. It was awkward, and irritating.

When she couldn't take it anymore, she slightly moved away from the side of the bed, just enough to get closer to Bellamy. Her back still to him, she took his hand, ignoring him when he startled, and put it around her waist. She didn't look at him once during the whole thing, but she could feel his surprise and his confusion in the way his body had tensed.
She didn't let go of his hand, savoring the feeling of his skin against hers. He didn't move, at first. Then his body relaxed, as if giving in, and she could feel his chest against her back as his arm held her tighter against him.

Clarke sighed.
It felt so good, to be in his arms. She wanted him to never let go. She was determined to remain awake for as long as she could, if only for the warmth of his breath on her neck.
She didn't turn around to face him, afraid to see something on his face she wouldn't like. Like regret, or sadness.
She was happy right there and then, in this unbreakable bubble.

At some point, her eyes closed and her breath slowed down. She was letting go, falling in a world full of dreams.
Someone far, far away whispered in her ear. Or maybe she was imagining it. It was a voice full of tenderness and sorrow. She heard the words, but couldn't truly understand them.

"I'm sorry," it whispered. "I wish things were different. Maybe… If I'd met you first…"

The voice slowly disappeared in the void as Clarke fell into the arms of Morpheus.

When her eyes opened much later, she had a weird feeling something was missing. She didn't guess what it was until her eyes landed on an empty bowl on her nightstand.
She turned around, searching for someone who was long gone. Her hand landed on the pillow beside her, right where he laid a few hours ago.

The pain was already there, looming, when she noticed a little something resting on it. She took it in her hand.
Her heart broke as she recognized the spare key she'd given him. Tears invaded her eyes.

He was gone.