Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and faves! Here is yet another update! I know some things might not make sense right now, but all will be explained later on in the story :)

Chapter 4

Bellamy sat at his rickety kitchen table, nibbling on stale pizza. It had been a long day at the shop, and he was getting tired of the every day run around. He had just taken another bite, chewing thoughtfully, when he heard a knock at the door.

He tried to ignore it, but the loud banging persisted.

"Keep your shirt on, I'm coming", he yelled around a mouthful of food.

When he opened the door a certain blonde shoved past him into his tiny apartment, the smell of coffee drifting along behind her.

"I intended to stay fully clothed, Bellamy Blake", she said with a wry grin.

"Wouldn't expect any less, Princess. What are you wearing", he asked with a knowing smirk.

Bellamy chuckled as Clarke's neck began to redden, the blush slowly coloring her cheeks. Then she tilted her head to the side, that look of challenge that he loved entering her eyes.

"My sweater", she with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Whatever you say Clarke", he said with a chuckle.

He watched her as she shook her head with an embarrassed grin before following him back to the table.

"How are you?"

"Still sore, but I haven't ripped any stiches yet", Bellamy answered.

"You go to work today", Clarke asked nonchalantly.

"Yep. Lynx get's suspicious when I miss."

"Bell, does the guy not pay attention? Surely he knew you got roughed up in that territory brawl the other night."

"He doesn't much care, Princess."

"We have got to find a way to get you out of there. You can't go on chopping cars until you get caught", Clarke said desperately.

"I know", came his quiet reply.

"Surely…"

"I'm done talking about it, Clarke."

"Ok", she answered softly, "I met somebody tonight."

"Oh really, is that why you smell like the inside of my coffee pot", Bellamy groused.

"Yeah, he kinda spilled coffee all over our shared sweatshirt", she said with a grin.

Bellamy stared at her, remembering the last boyfriend she'd had and the complete and utter disaster it had been.

It had been a sunny day in June, and Bellamy had just gotten home from the shop. He'd walked through the front door to find Clarke and O seated on the couch with two boys.

The girls were seventeen, so he shouldn't have been surprised. Usually all male visitors had to be cleared through him first before either girl could pursue any kind of relationship.

"Hey, Bell", Clarke called with over her shoulder with a smile.

He nodded, watching as she rose from her place beside a blonde jock and made her way into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms, looking him up and down.

"What", he asked harshly.

"Something's wrong. Spit it out Bell. Did something happen at work today? Are you hurt, did you bust your stitches", she asked in reference to the knife wound he gotten two days earlier before quickly grabbing for his shirt.

"Whoa there Princess", he said with a smirk, taking her hands in his own.

His smile grew at the faint blush that crept across her cheeks, and the warmth that was seeping from her hands into his own.

Just then a voice sounded at the doorway, "What's going on?"

Bellamy felt Clarke's fingers slip from his own as she made her way over to the jock.

"Oh hey, Scott. This is…"

Clarke didn't have time to finish her sentence before Scott grabbed her arms painfully, pulling her face eye level with his own.

"You cheating on me, b…"

Bellamy sprang into action, disentangling Clarke from the other guy's grip and quickly shoving her behind himself. Then he turned to glare at the intruder.

"Touch her again and you're a dead man", Bellamy growled.

Scott had the sense to see that taking on the older man would be a mistake, so he simply directed his anger at Clarke.

"We're through", he sneered as he turned to go.

Suddenly Bellamy felt Clarke's hands fist in the back of his shirt, and her head came to rest in the middle of his back. He stood there, her hot breath sifting through his shirt and warming his skin.

Finally he turned around and took her in his arms. She shivered, and one of his hands moved to her neck. He massaged the taught muscles, his fingers brushing against the smooth silky strands of her blonde curls.

"You're safe. I wouldn't let anything happen to you", he said close to her ear.

"Thanks Bell. I'm so sorry about that. I should have known he was bad news", Clarke whispered.

"It's ok, Princess. You keep things exciting", Bellamy said with a smirk.

"We both know that's O's job", she chuckled.

"I guess you decided to split the work load today then."

Clarke's voice quickly brought him back to reality.

"I know what you're thinking, and I'm going to take things slow. I'm not going to have a repeat of junior year", she said with a smirk.

"Good, because my temper's got more of a hair trigger than it used to", he replied seriously.

"You can say that again! Now, let me look at those stitches", Clarke said seriously.

Bellamy moved to sit on the couch, pulling his shirt off as he went. He watched as she settled on the worn coffee table in front of him, her features a mask of concentration.

He hissed when her fingers ghosted over the thin row of tiny dark lines, drawing her expressive blue eyes to his face. His skin tingled with her touch, and he would be lying if he said she didn't affect him.

Clarke had always had brought about odd feelings, even when they were younger. He knew she cared for him, knew she saw through whatever mask he chose to wear to hide his feelings.

The thought that he was losing her to someone else hurt, but if he was honest he didn't deserve her. He was ensnarled in a ruthless gang that would probably one day end his life, so he had no business wishing for something that couldn't be.

"I want to meet him", Bellamy said quietly.

"Bell, I don't know…"

"You know the rules, Princess, I have to approve of all male friends", he said darkly.

The sound of her laughter filled the room, and warmed his heart.

"All right, Blake, if it means that much to you", Clarke said with a grin.

If only she knew how much she meant to him. Maybe one day he would be free of Lynx and his crew. There was always hope, and the blonde sitting before him would always be his.

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