A/N I wasn't too sure about this chapter, but I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! - J x

Octavia's eyes widened when she opened her bedroom door to Clarke. Clarke's wet hair was bundled up on top of her head, her cheeks were tinged with rosiness and she was clothed in only her knickers and an oversized top that was distinctively Bellamy's.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?" Clarke laughed at Octavia's shocked voice.

"I came to borrow some clothes? I didn't want to go home in last night's dress," She smiled sweetly and Octavia let her in. Octavia's room was so different from Bellamy's; Clarke noticed now that she had spent a night in both. They were the same size and shape but Octavia's seemed smaller for all the clutter that decorated it. Her walls were painted pink, the same as when Clarke first met her, and the curtains at her window were made of flowing, sheer material. Her bed wasn't made, it never was, and like any teenage girl, her floors and surfaces were covered with numerous items; discarded jewellery, old Christmas cards, empty perfume bottles, half-done homework assignments, notes she and Clarke had passed under the desk in secondary school and random junk that she had hoarded over the years. Bellamy's seemed sparse in comparison, with light blue walls and surprisingly little mess for a teenage boy.

Clarke was brought from her thoughts by a loud cough from Octavia. The dark haired girl had her hands on her hips and an expectant stare on her face.

"You're wearing his shirt," She said as she looked at Clarke. Clarke couldn't help but giggle as she played with the hem of the top. It smelt like him and felt soft and warm. It was like a dress on her. "Don't just giggle! Why are you wearing his shirt? Oh my god, you slept with him didn't you, oh my god!"

"No!" Clarke squealed, "No, O. I didn't, we didn't," She took a deep breath and a grin crept to her lips, "He kissed me," Octavia rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Well about bloody time! What happened? I heard you were getting with Finn Collins last night?" Clarke cringed.

"Er no, I was just talking to him, but, he was drunk, things got a bit out of hand. So Bellamy stepped in and took me to bed," Octavia squinted her eyes as if she didn't believe Clarke's story, but she let it slide.

"So, Bell kissed you," She said instead, "Or you kissed him? Did you kiss him back? Does this mean you're a thing?"

"O, you ask so many questions all at once," Clarke laughed, "And can I please borrow some clothes?! What poor hosting skills, letting me stand here practically naked," She teased and Octavia crossed to her chest of draws, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure that would be Bellamy's ideal hosting style," She muttered under her breath. Clarke pretended not to hear as she took the jeans from Octavia's hands and began pulling them on.

"You should keep the shirt on," Octavia smiled, "It looks cute, plus, you can rub it in Wells's face and tell him you slept with Bellamy," Her grin was devious but it fell when she saw her friend's expression. "Okay, no Wells, that's fine. Sorry," She winced; hoping she hadn't overstepped the line, but Clarke waved it off. She couldn't let the thought of Wells ruin what was turning out to be an excellent morning.

The two girls sat beside each other on Octavia's bed as Clarke filled her in on her time with Bellamy. She emitted the details of the kiss, there were certain things Octavia need not know about her brother. How he kissed being one of them. In turn, Octavia told her how Jasper had given her a fair few presents early. She, however, was happily free with details. Clarke didn't think she'd be able to look him in the eye when she saw him again.

"Is he coming tomorrow?" Clarke tried dismally to change the subject. The next day was Octavia's actual birthday and Clarke had been invited for present-giving and a dinner with the Blakes. Octavia nodded.

"He's nervous about seeing my mum," She laughed to herself.

"Hasn't he already met her?"

"Yeah, but not in a formal setting as he calls it. It's hardly formal; my Mum's cooking same as ever! Still, he is sweet though," Octavia blushed and Clarke stuck out her tongue in mockery. "Oh shut it Clarke, as if you're not whipped too!" She hit Clarke over the head with a pillow, giggling as she did.

"I'm not whipped!" Clarke protested as she fought back with a second cushion.

"Yeah, right," Octavia smirked in a way that made her look just like Bellamy. Clarke sighed, maybe she was right.

"You're not doing it right, you've gotta flip it," Bellamy's head snapped up at Jasper's critique. The boy was leaning against the counter watching Bellamy try to make pancakes. He put the pan down roughly.

"Alright, you do it," He said gruffly and Jasper raised his eyebrows.

"I'm just saying,"

"No, go on," Bellamy gave him a grin to try and cheer the boy but it was difficult, he hated being insulted, even in such trivial matters. "I want to see you make the perfect pancake for my sister," Jasper snorted to himself, took the pan from the stove and began shaking it softly.

"You don't like me because I'm dating her," He turned to look at Bellamy. Bellamy expected to see worry in the boy's eyes or fear that Bellamy might hit him, but Jasper was half-smiling and his dark eyes were relaxed.

"I don't not like you," Bellamy began, making them both laugh, "She's my baby sister, that's all, I have to look after her,

"I look after her, you know," Jasper said quietly and Bellamy nodded to him.

"I know," He might have said more but they were interrupted by said sister entering the room along with Clarke who was still wearing his shirt. He swallowed at the sight. It was stupid, but it looked so good on her; it was snug across his broad chest when he wore it, but it was loose and baggy on her smaller frame. There was more to it than how she looked though, Bellamy was possessive by nature, and maybe it was a foolish idea, but he felt as if he had a claim to her when she was wearing his shirt. Like she was his.

She smiled at him across the kitchen, her cheekbones turning pink beneath his gaze. Oh god, Bellamy wanted nothing more than to cross the room, swoop her into his arms and kiss her again. But he couldn't, so he just smiled back.

The kiss had been so...intense. Bellamy Blake wasn't the type of man to do anything half hearted and kissing Clarke had been no exception. There were so many times that he'd wanted to kiss her and perhaps if he had, then it would have been chaste and soft and fleeting. But there was too much want, too much tension for innocent kisses. He bit his lip at the memory; her fingers against his skin, her lips, and all while she was in only a towel.

"Ah shit," Bellamy's thoughts were interrupted by Jasper's curse as his pancake flipped too high and ended up in the floor.

"Now who's doing it wrong?" Bellamy teased him and the boy blushed, his redness intensifying as Octavia pressed her hands to his cheeks and kissed him full on the mouth. Bellamy groaned and exchanged a look with Clarke at the couple's affections. But his sarcastic remark was lost when he realised Clarke had stepped closer to him. He ruffled his hair with one hand.

"You know, I'm going to have to compliment your outfit, Princess. I have a wonderful sense of style, don't I?" He joked and she punched him lightly on the arm. The shirt she had borrowed was a dark acid wash t-shirt with a pocket over the left breast, the dark colour made her hair and skin look very pale. She had borrowed a pair of Octavia's jeans, they fitted well enough, but Octavia's hips were slightly slimmer so the denim hugged Clarke tight. But instead of looking ill fitted it looked as if they were made for her, to curve to her shape.

"No, you actually look really good," He amended his tease in a low voice and Clarke rolled her beautiful eyes.

"The height of flattery, Bellamy, thank you," Her tone dripped sarcasm but she was smiling. She was more like him than he had first realised.

"Hey, I think this one's actually okay!" Jasper's exclamation brought up a cheer around the kitchen and the boy plated up his one pancake with a generous slather of nutella and handed it to Octavia. "For you, birthday girl," He winked and she giggled girlishly.

It was a while before there was enough pancakes made for all of them and by then everyone had tried their hand at cooking them to little avail. They left something to be desired taste wise but it was a laugh. When they were done and Clarke said she needed to go home, Bellamy felt like jumping from his seat in his eagerness, but he had his reputation, so he just sat with his arm resting lazily on the back of her chair and suggested it casually.

"I can give you a lift, if you want," He shrugged and Clarke's lips parted deliciously.

"Uh, sure, thanks," She tucked a blonde lock of hair behind her ear, "That'd be great,"

"Hmm, I'm not quite sure which is the stronger motive; avoiding clearing up or spending time with Clarke," Octavia butted in with her trademark grin, so knowing and mischievous.

"Definitely the cleaning," Bellamy winked, "Who'd want to spend time with the Princess?" My Princess, he thought to himself.

"Hey!" Clarke squealed and elbowed him as he stood up to dump his plate in the sink. He gave her his winning smile. Across the table, Octavia couldn't seem to decide whether she should laugh or complain.

"But you will help me with cleaning, won't you?" She bit her cheek in worry, "Mum will kill me if she thinks I've had a party," She gasped in realisation. "She'll kill you! You're the oldest, the responsible one!" She clapped her hands in glee at the revelation and laughed.

"I'll tell her it was you?" Bellamy retorted but they both knew he would take the fall for her.

"You know I can cry on demand Bellamy, I am very believable," His sister spoke in a matter of fact voice and Clarke and Jasper nodded sadly. He wondered how many times those two had taken the blame for something his spoilt sister had done. Brat though she was, they would all do it over and over again, she had an odd sort of charm, did Octavia.

"I'll help when I get back, you can make a start," He said sternly, in the voice that had made him the captain of his sports teams and the leader of his social group at school. He was good at being authoritative, he smiled internally but his face was a hard glare.

"It's okay, I'll help you before I go, O," Jasper kissed Octavia on the cheek and she leant into him.

"I can stay, if you want," Clarke piped up but Octavia, for once, helped Bellamy out and shook her head.

"Don't worry, Jas will help me," Clarke nodded and Bellamy held the door for her on the way out, smirking all the way.

"Who is this gentleman and what have you done with Bellamy?" Clarke raised a brow when he did the same at the car, letting her in before he got into the driver's seat.

"Only the best for the Princess," He bit his lip with his smile at the look on her face, the girl could make even scepticism look sexy.

"Aren't I lucky," She teased.

"Oh, luck has nothing to do with it Princess, I take good care of my girls,"

"Your girls?" Clarke's voice dripped disbelief. "I'm your girl am I?" Bellamy looked across at her with a sultry smile.

"I thought you'd be thrilled, Princess. I'm quite the catch you know? Hey! Driving, driving!" He protested as she made to smack him.

"So, you actually..." She coughed awkwardly, "You want me? Not just, not just sex?" Bellamy snorted.

"Well I was hoping that might come into it," He joked, but a look at her innocent face made him sigh. "Clarke, I like you. Call me a fool, I don't know why, but I like you, okay? I want you. Yes, I find you very attractive, but that's not all." He shot a small glance at the girl but her eyes were fixed on the road ahead of them.

"Look, I'm not used to rejection, so if you're going to do it, can you get it over with," He snapped eventually, tired of her silence. Only then did she look round at him.

"I'm not going to reject you, Bellamy," She spoke quietly, her lips barely moving. Her lips, Bellamy was so easily distracted by them, soft and pink and full as they were. He couldn't help but remember how they had felt against his.

"Well that's a relief," He replied dryly, somewhat put out that he had put himself out there and that was the best response she could come up with.

"That's my road," She pointed it out to him as they neared it. The houses on Clarke's street were far bigger and grander than Bellamy's. All the drives were filled with soft-topped sports cars or land rovers and it made him feel out of place in his own tiny car. "This one," She pointed to a large white house. It wasn't as showy as some of its neighbours, but Bellamy felt for sure that the Princess had earned her nickname.

"Is that it? That's all you're going to say?" Bellamy sounded frustrated even to his own ears as he parked the car. Clarke giggled.

"You're such an arrogant tw-"

"Yes, alright, I know," Bellamy rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth trying to understand how this drive had turned out so wrong when Clarke surprised him by reaching across the gearstick, taking his face in both hands and pressing her full lips to his mouth.

Her tongue licked at his lips, asking for entry and when he let her, an involuntary sigh left him. His hands went to her hair, trying to pull her closer but in their seats it was difficult. Still, Clarke reached her hand out and trailed it slowly up his thigh, stopping so tantalisingly close. Bellamy pulled away.

"Tease," He sighed as he picked up her hand and entwined it with his.

"Well there's your answer," Clarke smiled in a way that reminded him of Octavia, it was a knowing, scheming sort of smile. "I like you, Bellamy Blake. But I'm not stupid, I know about your reputation," She dragged out the word. "I'll be your girl if you want, as long as I'm your only girl," She gave his hand a squeeze before she dropped it.

Bellamy opened his mouth to contradict her, to tell her that wasn't him, but he supposed she was right. He couldn't escape his past or the rumours that flew around.

"I should go in now," The Princess gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and before Bellamy could grab her and kiss her properly, she had pulled back and was exiting the car.

He watched her walk up the drive and go inside, not driving away until she had disappeared from view.