August

Clarke had few regrets in her life, so little that she could count them on one hand with three fingers to spare. She regretted not telling her father she loved him before leaving the morning he died. Regretted being mad at Wells for so long, barely forgiving him before he was killed, but the one thing she regretted the most, the one thing she wished she could take back, the one thing chewing away at her soul, was not asking Bellamy to stay.

She stood behind the rope watching him go through the metal detector, still feeling the slight stubble on her lips from when she kissed his freckled cheek just moments ago.

By this time tomorrow he'd be in Naples in his flat with an assigned flatmate. Clarke didn't want to think about the next year of her life. Didn't want to know what she'd do without her best friend.

Bellamy looked back at her on the other side of the glass. There was something in his expression that Clarke couldn't read. What does it say about a person when they can't decipher their best friend?

"I'll call you," he mouthed again.

Clarke nodded, trying to hold back her tears. Why was it so difficult to say goodbye to him?

He grimaced before pulling his backpack over his shoulder and went down to the flight gate. Clarke sighed before turning to leave.

Bellamy needed this, he needed to go to learn more about his major. See the history himself instead of reading about it. She couldn't be selfish with him.

When Clarke got back to her apartment, she sighed against the closed door, sliding down it as the tears fell.

Sometime later Raven emerged from her room and froze at the sight of Clarke crying against the door of their apartment. "I'll make coffee?" she offered before heading to the kitchen to make a pot.

"I couldn't ask him to stay. He worked so hard for this, I couldn't just—"

Raven sat on the floor next to Clarke, handing her a cup of coffee. "I know. He would have if you asked."

"But who am I to ask?" Clarke countered. "His best friend? It's not like I—"

"Clarke, believe me, he would have stayed if you asked."

Clarke nodded, the heat of the coffee mug warming her frigid fingers. She looked at the mug, it's Bellamy's Harry Potter mug, he never let anyone use it.

"Shit, I—"

"No, it's okay. If he's not here to use it, why can't I?"

I could be closer to him, she thought.

Raven nodded, pulling Clarke into an awkward hug. "How was O?"

"I don't know, he was standing outside when I picked him up. She's probably still mad at him. She's mad at everything, I wouldn't put it past her for even being mad at me."

"Her person died, she has a right to be mad."

Clarke nodded, nuzzling her head into Raven's neck. "He was a good man."

Raven smiled, taking a sip of her coffee before putting it down and taking Clarke's and standing them both up. "We need to go shopping."

"Shopping? We aren't shopping girls."

"I meant groceries. Wavy potato chips, moose tracks ice cream. You need that on top of some Love, Rosie because it's your situation, just British."

"You think I'm pregnant?" Clarke scoffed but smiled none the less and changed into her flip-flops because they're more comfortable than the heels she wore so she wouldn't have to reach as high to hug Bellamy goodbye.

Clarke woke with a start to her phone ringing. She never leaves the volume on while she slept but this time she had to. She had to hear his voice, know he's okay, he made it there safe.

"Bell," she barely whispered when she answered.

"Hey, Princess," he sounded tired and relieved.

"Bellamy," Clarke smiled, practically hugging her phone to her ear.

"How was your day?" he asked as though it was just another long day juggling work and classes.

"I bought groceries and watched British rom coms with Raven. We invited O but she's still angry."

"Who are you being a real adult?" he laughed before continuing. "She shouldn't take it out on you, I'm partly to blame."

"You tried stopping Pike, you saw Lincoln in the blast zone but Pike didn't..." she knew going over it again was pointless what happened happened and no one can change the past no matter how badly Clarke wished she'd asked Bellamy to stay. "Sorry. How's tomorrow looking?"

"I'm going to be jet lagged for a month, I swear! You should see how beautiful it is here, you'd love it."

"Is that an invitation?" she asked weakly, knowing he doesn't know his class or work schedule yet.

"Clarke," he sighed, his voice broke.

They were silent for a few minutes, she knew he wasn't asleep, she could hear his uneven breaths. She imagined him with his glasses on and a copy of the Odyssey in his lap. He's read it so many times he practically memorized it but Clarke knew he loved reading the words off the page instead of from memory.

"Forty-four hundred miles," she whispered.

"Well when you say it like that it doesn't sound so bad. What were you going to say this morning?"

"When?"

"All morning. And don't lie to me because I know you too well."

"Nothing, it was nothing."

"Liar," he said and Clarke knew he was smirking.

"I was going to tell you to try O again but I knew better. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"If it's the truth."

Partly. "It is."

Bellamy was quiet for a minute. "Okay, I'm going to get some sleep before I find out my schedule in a few hours. Have a good yesterday, Clarke."

"Have a good tomorrow, Bellamy."

November

A week before Thanksgiving, Clarke smiled when she heard the chiming on her computer. Dropping her paintbrush, not caring where it landed. She raced across the apartment to the computer, clicking yes on the Skype request.

They talked everyday the first six weeks he was away, then every few days when he could, all over the phone so Clarke was excited to see Bellamy's face for the first time in what felt like eternity.

"Hey, Princess," he smiled though it was all pixelated and unclear. "Nice face paint."

"Is it possible that you're more tan than when you left?"

"It's the Filipino in me, at least my father was good for something."

Clarke scoffed. Bellamy's father was a two-timing asshole who had another family when Aurora Blake told him she was pregnant with Bellamy. He told her to get an abortion, even gave her the money in cash so his wife couldn't trace it. It broke her heart but Aurora refused and bought a crib with the money. She had Bellamy and never looked back.

The video cleared and Clarke could see Bellamy clearly. "Who are you to not laugh at a dig towards my father?"

"You're here because of him, right? I wouldn't have a... you wouldn't be here if he hadn't met your mother."

"I am so glad you dropped out of med school, you have terrible bedside manner," he goaded but Clarke wasn't having it.

"You're in bed?" Clarke's attention perked up with a smirk adorning her face.

The live video of Bellamy smirked—cliché—before his face fell and became serious. "Uh, Clarke," he murmured, his eyes looking down, away from the screen. "If I were to ask you to come here, would you?"

Clarke smiled at the keyboard, she's been waiting for this. "Are you really asking or are you just curious?"

"I miss you, I miss hanging out with you."

"Have you talked to Octavia?"

"I have. She's… coming around."

"Did you ask her to visit?"

"I didn't want to push."

Clarke sighed, "I have two weeks available after Christmas."

Bellamy smiled widely, Clarke didn't think she's ever seen him so happy. "Meet you in London?"

"London?"

"A friend is going home for Christmas and found out I'd be alone here and invited me so I'll be in London. I figured we could stop in Paris, Geneva, Florence and then Naples."

"Paris?" Clarke grimaced. The City of Love.

"Yeah, thought we'd go to the Louvre, you know, art."

She smiled, "And Kings Cross in London for your 'nonexistent' Harry Potter obsession?"

"Hey, they made a platform nine and three quarters for the fans!" Bellamy said avidly with the biggest childish grin on his face. Purely adorable, Clarke had to look away. "You still going to your mom's?"

Clarke decided that since she had him, she'd look up flights while they're talking. "Of course. Hold on, I'm looking at flights."

Clarke typed her fingers across the keyboard and found a decently priced flight with a layover in Reykjavik. She told Bellamy as much.

"Is that an option for you?"

"No, yes! It's perfectly priced and timed right after Christmas and—"

"Bradbury! We're going to... that your Clarke?" A guy asked coming into the frame, he had floppy hair and a nose you wouldn't easily forget. "Did you tell her?"

"Shut up, Murphy... tell them I'll be down in five minutes."

"Nice to finally put the face to the name," the boy smiled throwing a duffel bag over his shoulder to leave.

Clarke grimaced, "Tell me what?"

"We're going to Palermo on Sicily for the week, I won't be able to talk much."

"We talk once maybe twice a week, Bellamy, I think I can manage."

"We talked every day the first six weeks I was here."

"That's because... we, um..."

"I always call you when I'm excited about something or see something you'll like or you had to tell me about something that happened during your day."

Clarke's eyes darted between Bellamy's sincere yet wary eyes and his taught lips. God, she wanted to tell him. She loved him and it's been impossible to stop. How didn't he know?

She nodded, agreeing with his statement even though it was wrong. She needed to hear his voice. Missed how his deep silky tone wrapped around her holding her tight, protecting her. Even when he was arguing with her, she still felt as though his words weren't to hurt her but care for her. She knows that isn't how Bellamy is but that's what it felt like. His tough exterior was the armor of the caring dork he truly was. She's only seen the armored man when she, Octavia, or any of their friends were in danger.

It made her wonder what version he's letting his classmates see in Italy.

"Princess?" he asked, snapping her attention back to their Skype call.

"Yeah? Sorry."

Bellamy smirked again, when is she going to get a genuine smile out of this man? "I said I have to go. I'll call you when I get back?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "I—I will be here."

"Later, Princess," he said and hung up, the screen going black.

Clarke realized they didn't finalize her going to visit him. Her desire to see him was so overwhelming that she thought she would be presumptuous if she bought the plane tickets. She can wait a week for him to bring it up again.

January

Clarke moaned, Bellamy always wraps his arm around her when he sleeps over. She secretly loved it, always hated when she woke up and he was gone. Always left a text and made a pot of coffee for her, knowing her vice and Raven always drank half the pot before Clarke got out to the kitchen, leisurely taking her time to get out of bed.

"You awake?" he asked in her ear, his fingers dancing across the exposed skin of her stomach.

"Unfortunately. Thinking about this exhibition piece Wallace Sr. asked for."

"What about his son's brutal death?" his disdain clear as day even through a whisper.

"Tempting. Though I'd rather sleep and figure it out tomorrow."

"But your mind is running a mile a minute, what helps you relax?"

"An orgasm," Clarke chuckled.

Bellamy's hand froze on her stomach. "Want my help with that?"

"You want to help?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I—If you want to, I wouldn't stop you."

Bellamy's fingers traced the edge of her pajama shorts tickling her skin, they had splatters of grey paint on them from her experiment in greyscale about a year ago, after Lexa broke her heart. She loved the shorts, they were comfortable and Clarke was upset about ruining them but she woke up one morning and just began painting and didn't care about the clothes she was wearing, didn't care that the violet oil paint left a large fuchsia streak in her hair for three weeks, mainly because it was her best work as of then but also because, regardless of Bellamy's prodding, the color surprisingly looked good.

He cupped her cheek with his other hand, "Stop me if you're uncomfortable. Promise."

"Okay," Clarke whispered.

"No, Clarke, promise me."

"I promise that I will stop you," she licked her lips. "Please," she half begged and Bellamy smirked, his hand traveling farther into her shorts and lace panties, she's glad she chose a nice pair instead of her usual boring cotton bikini panties.

"Shave?" he asked surprised.

"Wax."

"Huh." His finger touched her clit and Clarke moaned at the soft touch. To say that she hadn't wanted this to happen would be an outlandish lie. To actually have it happen was like a dream. Bellamy's finger circled and pressed into the hyper-sensitive nub between her thighs and, though, she wanted to respond, she felt that doing so would slow him down. She needed more, craved more with Bellamy, always.

His teeth bit down on her shoulder, causing Clarke to gasp and wiggle, his finger delve between her folds and stroked the inviting, sodden opening. "Do you know how wet you are?" he queried, nipping at her ear.

Bellamy slid away from Clarke, pushing her onto her back before leaning over her to get a better angle. Clarke watched his aggravation grow and almost laughed before he got up on his knees, his hand pulling out from her pants and Clarke groaned in response, missing the heat of his skilled fingers on her clit.

Bellamy grasped the elastic waist of the shorts and yanked them off, pulling her lace panties with them. Clarke lifted her hips to help but Bellamy left them around her ankles and she could feel her juices from her panties.

He crawled down her body, fingers dancing along her ribs and waist until he got to the edge of her tank top, lifting it up to place soft open mouthed kisses at her belly button.

"Bell," Clarke crooned, her back arching into his touch.

Bellamy's mouth latched down over Clarke's clit as his tongue flicked over it fast and erratic before sliding down parting her folds with one solid lick before bringing his fingers back, plunging in slow and deep.

Clarke knew how slick she was, these sleepovers with Bellamy always caused it and she always took an extra-long cold shower after he leaves in the morning. She thought that it was how it would always be, just friends with Bellamy Blake. Nothing more but this, Bellamy eating her out, wanting to eat her out was exhilarating but she also had this ephemeral feeling that wouldn't let her fully enjoy it.

Bellamy's fingers sissored in her depths, pumping in and out trying to find that sweet spot inside her that she couldn't even reach with her fingers but Bellamy's hands were significantly larger than hers and he could almost reach that sweet spot.

Plunging a third finger in, Clarke's inner walls contracted around them, trying to…she didn't know and it was frustrating that only her vibrator could reach her spongy g-spot that gets her every time.

Groaning in frustration, her thighs clamping down around Bellamy's head, pushed him to move faster, both his tongue on her clit and his thick fingers plunging in and out of her.

"More," she cried, Bellamy's tongue unfortunately doing all the hard work.

Bellamy froze, his tongue flat against her sensitive nub, looking up at her through hooded and heated eyes. "More?" he asked softly, his breath tickling her wet clit.

"I need more, Bellamy. I need you," she cried, if anything that Raven's told her about Bellamy was true, he'd get her over the edge. Then again that might be where her stupid unrequited crush began. The need of someone who could reach her g-spot. She had to fake it through high school and part of college as to not hurt her partner's feelings but this, with Bellamy, she felt like she could be honest. Tell him that his fingers were sadly not long enough and that maybe—

"We can't uncross that line."

"We crossed this line, Bellamy. This was a gateway."

"You and your metaphors," he shook his head fondly, slipping his fingers out of her as he sat up, leaning back on his heels.

Clarke saw his glistening fingers, her juices gleaming on them. She's always loved sucking her fluids off someone else so she sat up and grabbed his hand, pulling his fingers into her mouth, licking and sucking her heady, salty juices off his fingers, watching his stoic expression falter.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"Precisely," she said once his fingers were cleaned off, pulling him down over her. "Do you want to fuck me?"

Bellamy nodded, his dark eyes locked on hers while he leaned over her chest, her hard, tight nipples practically begging him to latch on.

Clarke's fingers grasped the drawstring of his sweatpants, tugging it lose before pushing them down, his boxers remaining in place. She went for them next but Bellamy's hands stopped her. "This will change us."

"So you can place your mouth on my cunt but the second your dick comes into the mix it changes everything? What if I gave you a blow job?"

"We'd change."

"So you're not being sexist."

"No, if my dick joins in, I'll want to come back. This isn't that so—" Clarke placed her hand on Bellamy's cheek, stopping his words as he looked down at her. She smiled before she pushed herself off the mattress and kissed him thoroughly with the help of his agape mouth.

"I think we're fine, Bellamy. Especially after all the shit we've been through together."

"You're sure?"

"Bellamy, take your damn boxers off!"

Clarke opened her eyes with an aching between her thighs, a singular need that could only be satiated by one person that's forty-four hundred miles away.

"You made it six months, you can make it another five, Clarke," she told herself. "I should have fucking gone to Italy after Christmas, I should have brought it back up."

The bed shook, letting Clarke know that she had company in the form of one Raven Reyes, suddenly feeling warm arms wrapped around her holding her tight.

"You okay?" she heard Raven, squeezing her eyes shut, only to open them to Raven's brunette braid across her shoulder.

"I was in the middle of a dream."

"A dirty Bellamy dream, I know. It got sickening to hear. If you two take an hour before getting it in the first go round, you're lusting wrong."

"I'm going back to sleep now," Clarke told her friend, annoyed.

"I'm serious, Clarkey," Raven said cuddling into Clarke just like Bellamy was when her dream started. It felt so real, like he was actually there. Actually home.

"I unfortunately know. Bellamy and I will get there how we get there. Just stop reminding me that I fucked up in August."

"That was all you, babe."

Clarke knew better than to ask Raven if she was staying in her bed, because it's such a normal thing that Clarke was used to it, like Bellamy just sleeping over.

March

"You spoke to Bellamy yesterday?" Clarke spat at Miller in the middle of the bar, interrupting his story. They were both early to the Friday night bar hang they have with their friends, recently minus the Blakes.

"Yeah?"

"No, I'm—he's been ignoring me then. I haven't done anything."

Miller's face dropped. "I—he probably doesn't mean anything by it, he's an ass. You know that."

"Yeah, I also know that that was a big fat lie."

"We're his best friends, Clarke. If he hasn't said anything to me about it, then it's either deadly serious or not even worth your concern."

"I've called him, I've e-mailed. Fuck, I even went on his Instagram. Nothing. He had to have said something to you."

Miller sighed, gulping down his pint of beer, "Talk to Bellamy, Clarke."

"Did he meet someone? I'd—I'll be happy for him, he knows that, right?"

Miller nearly choked on his beer, "Horrible lie, you'd hate it. You're in love with him."

"No. What?"

"Don't deny it, I saw it when you two were in heated arguments or fondly watching each other be idiots, playing whatever drinking game Octavia found on the internet that week."

"Hey, California Gurl was fun!" Clarke protested.

"I had glitter dandruff for a month. Not fun."

Clarke laughed at the memory of Jasper following Miller around pretending he was Tinker Bell, trying to acquire some pixie dust to get to Neverland.

Miller rolled her eyes at her. "Her name is Gina."

"Fuck you, Miller," Clarke grumbled, downing the rest of her vodka cranberry.

"You brought up California Gurl."

"Technically you did. Does he like her?"

"It seems that way."

Clarke nodded, trying to absorb the new information and not cry in front of Sass Daddy Miller. But it stung, knowing that Bellamy didn't feel the same for her. She can live with it, be an adult and act like everything is okay, like her life wasn't over.

Clarke was painting another exhibition piece, trying to get Bellamy's lack of communication that month out of her head and Gina, when Raven stormed into the apartment and turned the TV on avidly watching the news. "Get over here, Griffin!"

"Rae?"

"Clarke!"

She crossed the room and stood behind the couch, refusing to absorb what she was learning. "Five bombs exploded in Naples, Italy about an hour ago—" the reporter said and Clarke's heart plummeted. He can't... he's alive. Bellamy is a fighter, he's alive and okay and he'll come home to her. She'll get to tell him.

"Clarke—" Raven said assumingly when the news was over.

"He's alive," she said sternly.

"Thousands of people are dead."

"And I know that Bellamy Blake is not one of them! He can't be!" she cried. "He's not."

Raven nodded slowly, "Okay."

Clarke turned and went to her room, abandoning her painting. She collapsed onto her bed and pulled the black t-shirt from under her pillow and hugged it tight, it's lost his smell but she still got faint whiffs of him every once in a blue moon. She tried holding back tears while all the thoughts of how Bellamy wouldn't make it home flooded her mind.

She cried herself to sleep with the fear of his life on her mind.

"Clarke?" she heard, waking up. Octavia sat at the foot of her bed.

"O, is he—he didn't..." her voice was low and hoarse, almost like a whisper.

"He's alive," the gorgeous brunette said, her voice cracking. Her striking green eyes were glassy.

"He is?" Clarke's voice broke as she tried holding back tears. "He hasn't called me."

"He tried for hours to get a call out, finally getting through to me. Immediately asked if you knew."

"But he's okay?"

"He was miles away from the bombs, he's fine. But what is going on between the two of you?" Octavia asked.

"Noth—I don't know."

"That's bullshit."

Clarke shook her head before looking Octavia in the eyes, "I don't—I need him, O."

"Like I need Lincoln?"

Clarke nodded, curling back into her bed, under the warm comforter, hugging the old t-shirt.

"Is that his t-shirt?"

"Um, yeah."

"My god, you have it bad!" Octavia smiled.

"What'd he say to you?"

"He told me he loves me and he's sorry again and to tell you he's okay and he's going to keep trying to get through to you. He's had an unusually busy month and he wants to make it up to you. And that he wished you'd have visited after Christmas. You were going to visit him?"

"We talked about it for a minute before he left for Sicily in November, it wasn't finalized and he didn't bring it up again so I thought he changed his mind."

Octavia nodded. She decided to stay and hang out, get back to knowing her best friends again. When Lincoln died, she kicked everyone out of her life, blamed them for an accident that could have been prevented. They didn't hold it against her, they knew how painful it was to lose someone you love.

Clarke was in the kitchen the next morning when her phone rang. Octavia was asleep on their couch, so Clarke, having just poured the first cup of coffee, took Bellamy's call in her room where she sat on the side of her bed.

"God, you have no idea how worried I was."

"I told Octavia to tell you I'm okay, I tried calling you too but she—"

"No, it's... she's your family, she gets the first call."

"You are too, you know that, right?"

"Um, yeah," Clarke choked out.

"I'm coming home, I can't stay until June. A lot of students are going home."

Clarke silently held back tears, he's coming home, he's going to be safe. "They said it was terrorists," she sighed in disbelief that she almost lost him. She still can.

"Please pick me up Wednesday, I should be landing around 7. I'll email you the flight."

"Of course. I'll tell Octavia."

"No, she and I... we're still not there yet," Bellamy stated and Clarke knew he was right, especially after talking to Octavia last night. There were a lot of contributing factors to Octavia distancing herself from Bellamy and the Lincoln debacle was just the icing on the cake.

"You could have died, fuck this being mad shit! You didn't do anything!"

"Clarke, stop. God, I just—Octavia and I will be fine, I want you to be the first face I see, it's been too long."

Clarke agreed as she laid down, placing the mug on her nightstand.

"Did you sleep?" he asked softly, hyper aware of the fact that he'd called her at five in the morning.

"No, I—I read part of the Odyssey."

"So you fell asleep reading," he quipped.

"I try for you, you can't deny that."

"I don't, it's cute. I have so much to tell you, Princess. I'm sorry it's been so long since I could talk to you."

"Clarke! Bellamy—!" she heard in the back ground, it sounded like Murphy.

"Shut up, Murphy."

Clarke remembered what Miller said, Gina. Bellamy has Gina. "Is it bad that I want to meet Murphy?"

"Horrible," Bellamy deadpanned. "He's a decent guy once you get past the passive aggressive aggression and sarcasm."

"Sarcasm? He and Raven will get along!"

"They will kill each other within an hour."

Clarke laughed as Raven pushed her bedroom door open, as though speaking her name had summoned her like Beetlejuice, and climbed into bed next to Clarke, cuddling in close before stealing the phone.

"Blakey, we were so worried!... I've been taking care of her, I always do... Sleeping on the couch... Wow, that's awesome!"

"Can I get my phone back? He's my bo—" Clarke stopped herself. Bellamy is her best friend whom she's in love with. He's seeing Gina so Clarke's claim on him would have been embarrassing to say the least.

"Your what, Griffin? Blakey, I think our princess here—okay, I'm sorry. I think she's having a stroke or an epiphany. Possibly both. Then again, when the two of you are involved it's usually the former."

Raven handed Clarke the phone back before wrapping her arm around Clarke's waist under the comforter. Already back to sleep.

"Fucking thief," Bellamy chuckled. "Didn't miss that."

"So Wednesday."

"Yeah. I just emailed you the information."

"I'm glad you're coming home, Bellamy."

"Me too, Princess. Me too," he sighed.

"You do know it's five in the morning and I didn't get to sleep until Odysseus went to the Phaeacian palace."

"That's book seven!"

"It's very tiring, that little girl didn't seem trustworthy by the way."

"That's because she's Athena in disguise."

"And we like Athena?" Clarke asked through a yawn.

Bellamy scoffed, "Get some sleep, princess. I'll see you Wednesday."

Clarke yawned again, "I'm so happy that you're alive. You have no idea."

"Believe me, I do. We have a lot to talk about when I get back."

"Paris?"

"I'm hanging up now because you're falling asleep on me."

"Mm. I love you, Bellamy," she whispered, before she fell asleep, only to wake to remembering their whole conversation except her sleepy proclamation.

Clarke woke up Wednesday morning and tried to act like it was just an ordinary day. She went to the Dropship Café, where she talked to Jasper, Monty, and Harper like she usually did while the morning rush slowed, they claimed Wednesday's were the busiest and that Clarke talking to them about her week made it go by quicker. Sometimes she thought they just liked hearing the real drama of being a politician's daughter. The truth about other senators or congressmen and how the media has gotten it all wrong or, even funnier, right.

She avoided the topic of Bellamy and they didn't ask, they're friends with Raven and Octavia so they know he's okay. Probably assumed something's going to happen between the two of them once he gets back. Clarke found out that Bellamy didn't tell Raven when he was coming home when she stole her phone, just that he was, same with Octavia, so Clarke was the only one that knew about today. It made her anxious and nervous.

"Okay, what is up?" Miller asked halfway through his second cup of coffee, sitting across from her.

"Hm?" She asked, her attention getting back to the present.

"What is going on with you? I haven't see you like this since Bell told you about his year abroad."

"He hasn't told you either?"

"He is not staying there!" he shouted, his hand immediately reaching for his phone on the table.

"No! No, he—he's on a plane right now, he'll be here tonight."

"Well that is something he'd need to tell his roommate, isn't it?"

"He didn't tell anyone apparently. Just—just me."

"You better tell him, Clarke."

"What?"

"That you're in love with him," Miller stated like it was a well known fact.

Clarke shook her head, "I—"

"You really can't deny it. We all know," Monty said from the other side of the counter next to them.

"He doesn't and he—he doesn't feel the same. If he did he would have stayed."

"Did you ask him to stay?"

"No, he—he needed this year, he deserved something good."

"You are his something good and you're both too stubborn and ignorant to see it. It's like neither of you will move towards the inevitable before the other and one of you just needs to bite the bullet and make the move."

"I just want him home," Clarke said, grasping the empty mug in her hand, her thumbs tapping on the rim.

"How many cups have you had?" Miller inquired.

"I've been here for like four hours, didn't know what else to do today before I go pick him up. There's still seven hours before he gets here, I haven't been able to paint since he called. I—I can't stop thinking about something going wrong, him never coming home."

"You need to stop that right now. He will be fine, you have to remember that, you have to believe that, Clarke!"

"I'm trying, but, Miller, three days ago I thought he was dead. I—I know I shouldn't have and I tried not to but it was there and I held his shirt and his book and tried not to think about it but it was the only thing going through my mind."

Miller grimaced, "I'm serious, Clarke."

"I know, I just…I can't."

"I can't listen to this anymore," Harper exclaimed before turning to Monty. "I'm clocking out and calling Raven," she told him before turning back to Clarke. "We are going shopping to get you ready and getting your mind off of it until you have to leave for the airport."

"Uh, Raven and I don't—"

"Once she knows that Bellamy is coming home today, she's going to want to help."

Clarke rolled her eyes.

"I look ridiculous."

"Ridiculously hot!" Raven smiled widely and Clarke grimaced. "I'm serious, Griffin, if Bellamy doesn't jump your bones when he sees you, I will when you get home."

"I don't think that's a line we should ever cross, Rae."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, its six and his flight is on schedule, you should go," Harper said.

Clarke looked at herself one last time in the mirror. Black skinny jeans with black ankle boots. A clingy sultry red low-cut top. Make up, Clarke hates make up and saves it for Halloween. He's going to know, just from the red lipstick. They do want Clarke to kiss him, have been practically talking about it non-stop all afternoon but how is she supposed to with this lipstick? It'll get all over him. Her blonde hair was curled instead of her messy waves, how the hell will Bellamy even recognize her?

"I need to change and wash this crap off my face. If Bellamy wants me like you all claim he does, he will accept me in my paint jeans and hoodie and without contoured cheekbones. What the hell, Harper?"

"And because Bellamy does love you like that, he's going to love you like this too," the dirty blonde smiled.

Clarke rolled her eyes, "Fine, I'll go but if he doesn't—"

"I swear if neither of you kiss the other, I'm going to strangle you," Raven stated.

"Yeah, I'll do something," Clarke grimaced, not looking forward to the drive, as she grabbed her keys off the table.

"You'd better."

The drive was better that Clarke expected, remembering she was going into the city when most were leaving so the traffic was practically nonexistent. She parked her car in the short-term parking lot and waited until six fifty-five before heading inside to wait by baggage claim.

Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you
I drink too much and that's an issue
But I'm OK
Hey, you tell your friends it was nice to meet them
But I hope I never see them
Again

I know it breaks your heart
Moved to the city in a broke-down car
And four years, no calls
Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar
And I, I, I, I, I can't stop
No, I, I, I, I, I can't stop

So, baby, pull me closer
In the back seat of your Rover
That I know you can't afford
Bite that tattoo on your shoulder
Pull the sheets right off the corner
Of that mattress that you stole
From your roommate back in Boulder
We ain't ever getting older

Clarke played the song over and over in her head as she watched the arrivals screen until it said that Bellamy's flight had landed.

Ten minutes later she was standing at the appropriate baggage claim and the carousel started moving as a crowd began to form. Clarke's nerves rose as she turned to where they were all coming from in search of the man she's spent eight months missing like crazy.

Suddenly he was there, like she blinked and he was in the middle of the airport, like a mirage. He was real, Bellamy was home. Clarke's heart swelled before she began walking towards him. Bellamy's eyes locked on her and he smiled, it was the best thing Clarke's seen in years.

They collided, wrapping their arms around each other, pulling tighter, Clarke's face buried in Bellamy's neck. He was solid and strong against her, pulling her in tighter than she was pulling him but she tried knowing she'd never be as strong as him.

"Please don't ever leave again," she said in his ear, tears falling onto the tan t-shirt he wore.

"Believe me, Princess. I'm not going anywhere."

Clarke sighed, pulling him closer. She's relieved and anxious, Harper's words from earlier playing in her head, "Bellamy does love you". She knows it's out of context but still, it gave Clarke a semblance of hope that they are more than just Bellamy and Clarke.

Bellamy's hold on her loosened but Clarke wasn't ready to let him go just yet, making him laugh, "I missed you too, but you have to let me go before you break a rib."

"I wouldn't," Clarke pouted, releasing him.

Bellamy cupped her cheek with his calloused hand, pulling her chin up for her to look at him. Swiping his thumb across her bottom lip with a smirk. "Harper?"

"Don't remind me, she made me go shopping, I look ridiculous."

"You're beautiful, but then again you always are."

"Bellamy—" Clarke grimaced, biting her lip.

"Don't do that, don't look away from me."

"Who are—you don't—this isn't—"

Bellamy smirked before leaning down and pressed his lips to Clarke's and she moaned in surprise. Grasping his shirt so he couldn't pull away, Clarke deepened the kiss swiping her tongue along the seam of his lips to open up for her.

He smiled instead, making her pull away but just barely. "I love you too."

"Too?" Clarke asked, surprised. When did she ever admit that to anyone?

"You said it Sunday morning, you were falling back asleep after I said we need to talk once I got back, you asked if it was about Paris and I told you I was hanging up because you were falling asleep and you whispered that you love me. I stayed on the line for a moment, partly out of shock and partly because I wasn't quite sure that you were asleep and just silently freaking out about saying it."

"You should have woken me up!"

Bellamy's eyes went wide and he avidly shook his head, "Been there, done that. Didn't want to subject Reyes to that shit storm."

"I only hit you because I was having the most amazing dream! Besides, as Raven and Miller put it time and time again, it was weird that we were sleeping together without sleeping together."

"Ever since that first time when we were drunk and passed out did I want to sleep with you."

"Hmm, I don't know which part you're referring to," Clarke grimaced jokingly, pulling Bellamy back down for another kiss. "I don't love you, by the way. I'm in love with you."

"Oh, thank god, and here I was worried for no reason."

"Get your suitcase, nerd."

"Hey, you chose not to see me geek out in London, which you still haven't explained to me," Bellamy countered intertwining their fingers and pulling Clarke over to the carousel to get his suitcase.

"You didn't bring it up again after Sicily, I thought you changed your mind. I—Paris is a big deal, Bellamy, you can't just go to Paris with a friend, especially one you're secretly in love with."

"We know now."

"That we do. So what now?"

"We immediately get married, quick honeymoon in Paris before you start popping out 2.5 kids and we get a dogue de Bordeaux puppy and name him Artemis."

"Artemis? That's a very strong name for a dog, you can't put that much pressure on the poor boy, what if he doesn't live up to his full doggie potential?"

Bellamy grabbed his suitcase off the carousel and lifted the handle to pull behind him. "None of it is happening if you don't accept my unintentional proposal."

"Well if it's unintentional then why should I intentionally answer it?" Clarke countered and Bellamy shook his head, laughing at the girl he walked away from eight months earlier, praying she'd ask him to stay. Praying she felt the same way he did and that she'd wait for him to return home.

"Is Raven at your apartment?" he asked , pulling her into him by her waist before chastely kissing her.

"Well since she knows you're home probably not. She told me she'd kick my ass if we didn't kiss."

"She's where Octavia gets it from. Octavia wasn't abusive until she met Raven."

"What about Indra?" Clarke countered.

"Okay, she learned how to verbally threaten from Raven and Indra taught her how to execute those threats," Bellamy confirmed. "No Raven?"

"No Raven," Clarke repeated, wondering where he was taking it.

"Good, because I want sleep and French toast from Azgeda Diner, not necessarily in that order."

"You have more crazy cravings than a pregnant woman," Clarke smiled at Bellamy as they entered the parking garage.

Thanksgiving

"Raven, please sit the hell down. This is important!" Bellamy called through the apartment because Raven had the insane thought that if they couldn't find her they couldn't kick her out because Bellamy unofficially moved in two months ago.

"Raven, come on, this is actually good news that I don't want my friend dodging," Clarke called, curled up on the couch with Bellamy's shoulder as a pillow.

"Best friend," Raven punctuated before stepping out of the bathroom and into the hallway, still debating to make a run for it.

"Yes, my best friend because, according to you, Bellamy's boyfriend status means that he doesn't hold that title anymore," Clarke rolled her eyes, little did Raven know…

The Latina walked into the living room and sat in her favorite chair perpendicular to the couch Clarke and Bellamy were curled up together on. "I concede."

"Octavia is moving in, covering my half of the rent," Clarke said starting off slow, pulling the edge of the bandaid before she rips it off.

"It's going to be four of us in here?"

"Nope, just two and the three of us are moving into her apartment," Clarke smirked, Raven was really slow on the uptake today apparently.

"Me? I really don't want to hear you guys having sex through the wall," she grimaced and Clarke felt Bellamy holding back a laugh behind her.

"No, you're staying here," Clarke told her as she elbowed Bellamy.

"So who's the third… Clarke's pregnant?" Raven exclaimed in shock, looking to Bellamy.

Clarke and Bellamy just looked at each other with those goofy smiles people get when they're in the bubble of bliss. It wasn't planned but they couldn't be happier.

"We wanted to tell you before we tell the others, it affects your life more than theirs," Bellamy told her.

"No, I—" her attention turned to Clarke. "You're pregnant!"

"I'm most definitely pregnant. He's the size of a peanut."

"He?"

"Bellamy," Clarke explained, rolling her eyes. "We're also getting a French mastiff named Artemis."

"Don't sass Artie, you agreed in the airport!" Bellamy countered, pulling Clarke in closer though there was no possible way for her to get any closer with their clothes on.

"Dear God, the two of you would plan your lives together the minute after you kiss for the first time while simultaneously telling each other you're in love."

"I even proposed and she hasn't even given me an answer! It's been six months," Bellamy pressed.

"You said it was unintentional," Clarke scoffed.

He smiled fondly, wrapping his arms around her. "That doesn't mean I didn't have a ring."

Clarke grimaced, elbowing Bellamy in the side again. "Don't fuck with me, Bellamy Blake."

"I'm not. Okay, when I got off the plane I didn't have one but I do now."

"You guys do know it's usually move in together alone, dog, engaged, married, babies," Raven said interrupting the strangely romantic moment.

"Yeah, well, we fell in love before we even kissed, I think the Gods planned us to be backwards."

Bellamy's phone suddenly rang and he rolled his eyes, "We should get going before they move Thanksgiving dinner here instead."

"Miller and Monty dinner party," Raven grimaced. "Why do I feel like we're either going to get so drunk we black out or drugged?"

"It's Monty, it's the former," Clarke smiled fondly. Bellamy is going to propose.

The three of them left the apartment as Bellamy answered Monty's second phone call telling them they had something to do and they'll be right over with Raven's cranberry sauce and Bellamy's pumpkin and apple pies, having to do twice the work to make up for Clarke's lack of kitchen skills.

"You really have a ring?" Clarke whispered to Bellamy after dinner as their friends were all curled together in a food coma, the dining room and kitchen a total mess left to be cleaned up tomorrow.

"No," he smirked.

"I hate you."

"And yet you're still having my baby."

"I could always leave for a year abroad, make you miss the birth."

Bellamy frowned.

"I'd never do that, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it."

"Mm, you should be punished, this pregnancy is going to hinder on my sexual preferences."

"Mine too, babe, but we're going to love her none the less."

"He is going to be a terror, just like his aunt."

"Her father."

"Are you just fighting me on gender now?"

"What gender?" Monty asked.

"They're pregnant," Raven and Octavia said together then looked at each other shocked that the other knew.

"Raven knew?" Octavia asked angrily.

"She found out this morning, we had to tell her about the move. We couldn't just spring you on her with no explanation," Bellamy smirked.

"You told me she was okay with it but you didn't even tell her."

"A white lie for the greater good. It's not like you're moving across the country and will never see your nephew."

"Niece," Clarke corrected him.

"Wait, there's seriously a bun in the oven?" Murphy asked, the annoying new addition to the group thanks to Bellamy.

"Shut up, Murphy," Clarke spat, offended by the phrase. He put his hands up in surrender and Bellamy shook his head. "Yes, I'm pregnant, about a month along."

"So that makes it a June baby, just in time for a June wedding," Monty crooned, winking at Bellamy.

"We're not engaged," Bellamy said, kissing Clarke's hair. "Soon."

"He already asked me, but now he's holding it against me that I didn't intentionally answer his unintentional proposal. Which has always been yes, he just wants to be difficult. I'm blaming Murphy."