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It's not that she intended on getting drunk.

In fact she was going to stay sober and make sure that everyone stayed safe. But then Bellamy made a jibe about her not being fun enough and she set out to prove him wrong.

Can't be fun.

She took another shot, "I'll show him" she muttered.

She didn't remember what cup she was on. So, maybe, looking for Bellamy while she basically hammered, was probably not the smartest thing to do. But hey, she was drunk.

Bellamy.

Okay, so thinking about him this much was probably not doing wonders for her in the self control department. But even she couldn't deny that she was a teeny, weeny bit attracted to him. But that's as far as it went. Some, misguided lust, that tended to surface a lot more when she was drunk.

She stumbled away from Raven who was busy making eyes at Miller from across the campfire. In her slightly drunken state, she somehow thought that going to look for Bellamy was a good idea.

Obviously it wasn't.

But anyway, it happened.

Clarke swayed slightly as she made her way towards his tent. The mud was slippery as she walked to the flap. She pushed it open, stepping inside the dark room. Bellamy glanced up at her. He was standing beside his table, staring at a map.

"Hey princess, what brings you here?" he asked.

"I Can be fun" she stated and Bellamy snorted.

"Okay then"

She'd wondered into Bellamy's tent once before when she was slightly tipsy (It wasn't a big deal). And when she'd said she'd needed to talk he asked, is this serious Clarke or drunk Clarke. She'd stared at him, what's the difference? He'd smiled, Serious Clarke means what she says and drunk Clarke doesn't.

She'd remembered that ever since.

She drunkenly pointed at him, the cup still in her hand. "Bellamy fucking Blake." she cried, making her way towards his bed. She sat on it, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hand. "Why aren't you out there drinking?" she asked, almost accusingly, taking another sip.

"Someone has to be in charge" he shrugged, not turning around to look at her, "I'm making sure we have enough rations to last us into winter".

"But that's boring" she whined childishly, slumping against his bed. She giggled as her finger prodded against her cheek. Bellamy watched, amused.

A smirked tugged at his lips. "How much have you had to drink?" he asked resting his hip against the table, crossing his arms.

She waved him off, burying her face in his makeshift blanket. Of fuck, it smelt like him. "Eh, you know. A couple of cups." she muffled into his bed.

His smirk widened, "More like a dozen"

"Well you haven't had any" she said cordially.

He sighed, "Not all of us can be guarding the gates with a hangover. Someone needs to make sure the grounders don't kill us."

She grunted, "Why don't we just give up on the diplomacy thing and fuck off into the woods" She joked. There was a beat and then she suddenly sat up, wide eyed as though she'd had the break through of the century. He stared at her apprehensivley. "We could do it. You know? You and me. We could run off and leave all these fuckers behind. We'd be like Bonnie and Clyde loose in the world" She stated seriously.

"Bonnie and Clyde killed people" he stated.

She rolled her eyes  "Yeah, 'Coz we're fuckin' saints" she replied sarcastically.

He raised an eyebrow, "Bonnie and Clyde were also lovers" he stated with a hint if amusement.

She smirked and shrugged, "We'll see what happens" she replied casually.

Bellamy felt his frustration rising. She couldn't go around making off hand comments like that. Recently she'd started to become a lot more flirty (Much to Finn's dismay) and he found his mind wondering down into the gutters whenever she did. Or whenever she was in the room, really. And now, her sitting on his bed, hammered out of her mind, was not helping him.

"You're drunk" he deadpanned unimpressed at her thoughts. Could she be really thinking that? Would she really leave all these people behind?

She shook her head, "Not drunk enough" she muttered under her breath before taking another sip for confidence and looking back at him. "We could do it though." she repeated.

He glared at her and she cocked her head. "You seem disgusted" she stated in an innocent voice. She took another sip, never looking away from his angry gaze. "Have I lessened your respect for me?" she asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

He pursed his lips, glaring at her a little while longer before turning around, back to the map. The air turned tense and Clarke sighed, flopping back down on his bed.

"You know I'm only saying this because I've got about six cups of moonshine in me. Right?" she asked carefully looking up at the ceiling of his tent. "You can't take me seriously. I probably won't even remeber this conversation tomorrow"

He mumbled something and she frowned, "What?" she asked.

"I said. Right now. The things you're saying. Are you drunk Clarke or serious Clarke?"

She paused. Which one was she? She sometimes thought Bellamy's theory was faulty. When she was drunk, she found herself expressing her deepest, darkest thoughts. Thoughts she meant. Thoughts serious Clarke meant. So he would never be able to tell the difference and she wasn't sure if she wanted to think like that.

She sat back up, staring at him defiantly in the eyes, "Drunk Clarke" she replied quietly.

He whirled around, his teeth grit angrily and she could tell from a distance that he was seething. "You're lying".

Her eyes widened and she realised she should probably stop drinking for such a serious conversation. He was staring at her like he couldn't believe she'd ever think something like that.

"No I'm not" she snapped defiantly.

His mouth tipped up into a cold smile, "You're better at lying when you're sober." he stated.

She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again, like a fish. She turned her eyes to stare at the wall. She felt a weight drop in her stomach and she suddenly felt sick. Sick with herself. Sick with everything she was thinking. Or it was the moonshine.

Definitely the moonshine.

"So what, you never think about it?" she asked angrily.

He grit his teeth, "No"

She smirked, "Oh yeah?"

His hands balled into fists, "I don't think of you. Or about running away with you. Or about our version of Bonnie and Clyde, if that's what you're twisted mind dreams of."

She glared at him, "Neither do I" she seethed.

"Good"

"Good"

She held his glare, not backing down because if he knew she was lying he'd rip the piss out of her. He shook his head and looked away and she let out a breath. She stood up, patting down her clothes and grabbing her cup off moonshine, downing the entire thing at once. She let out a sound of approval and smacked her lips, Bellamy raised an eyebrow as she walked over to him.

He eyed her carefully as she stopped right in front of him. Her eyes narrowed and calculating. She leaned closer to him, slamming the cup down on his table. She was inches from him, his breath brushing her lips and she withheld a shiver.

"So you never think about what we'd be like?" she murmured.

"We?"

"You know, us" she smirked at his bewildered look.

"Us?" he frowned.

"What would happen of we got together." she gained a wild look in her eyes as she stared at him, "You and me, against the world".

Oh, shit.

He grit his teeth, willing himself to look her in the eyes. "Of course not"

"Because I think we'd be a pretty amazing pair." She shrugged, he bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something he'd regret. "We'd be unstoppable and toxic and mad and passionate and we'd be completely... lost in each other." she breathed, and Bellamy nearly choked. "So tell me. Do you think about it?"

He looked her dead in the eyes, "Never."

She leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear and his breathing shallowed, "You can't lie for shit".

She stepped away from. A confident smile on her face as she saw a look of simmering annoyance on his face. She was getting to him. She waltzed away from him, glancing back with a grin. "This conversation has already been forgotten. Thank the alcohol."

__________________

Bellamy didn't know that she remembered the conversation.

But she did.

And it's not just that the remembered it, it's that she couldn't let it go. Everytime she saw him it was like she was embarrassed, angry, frustrated with herself for telling him those things.

It had been at least a week and she was sort of avoiding him. Never talking to him for longer than she had to, never staying around him longer than she needed to. His eyes lingered on her longer than they should have sometimes and he licked his lips. Clarke usually made an excuse to leave and ignored him again.

That was.

Until he got drunk.

See, it did happen. Sometimes he'd have a drink, or two, if he was trying to forget about things for a little bit. He sat on a log by the fire, a cold cup of moonshine in his hand while he listened to Raven ramble about something or other. His eyes travelled across the fire to where Clarke stood with Monty and Jasper. She was smiling at something they were saying and the fire illuminated her face, her eyes shimmering with the moonlight.

She burst out laughing, a sound that stopped him cold dead in the middle of his sip. The melody sent a shiver of familiarity up his spine and he found himself staring at her. She looked blurry through his eyes but just as beautiful none the less.

He shook his head, tipping back his cup and wincing at the strength. He needed to forget. About her, About her crazy, drunken escape plan, about Bonnie and Clyde. Because, truth was, he thought about it.

I need you.

He thought about it a lot.

But he thought he could get past them because he thought she believed in him. You're running, She'd said. Well, he was going to. But she'd convinced him to stay. She was his rock, she was meant to be the person who would tell him he was being an idiot and convince him to do the right thing. She was more than just his co-leader. She was his partner, he trusted her.

I need you.

He shook his head again.

She thought about it as well. Not just him. He thought he was the only one who sometimes wished for a way out. She wasn't as good hearted as he thought. She thought exactly the same as him. He'd lost his rock. He didn't think he couldn't rely on her again.

So you never think about what we'd be like?

Truth was, before that conversation, he hadn't allowed himself to think that. He'd told himself that this... attraction he had towards her was purely physical.

What would happen if we got together.

Don't think about it, do not think about it, he scolded himself.

You and me against the world.

Yes.

Oh God, yes, he was seriously thinking about it now. He couldn't get it out of his fucking head. He was obsessing over the idea of them being together. He knew he wasn't prepared for a relationship, and considering the situation with the whole people trying to kill them thing. Neither was she.

We'd be unstoppable and toxic and mad and passionate and we'd be completely... lost in each other.

Bellamy pinched his thigh to stop himself from thinking about it. About her. But it didn't help when she said stuff like that. She was going to be the death off.

I need you.

Obviously not that much. And for some reason that hurt him more than it should. He was on his fifth drink, or his sixth, he'd lost count. But he knew he was drunk.

And so looking for Clarke was probably, most likely, incidently, maybe, not the best idea.

But hey, he was drunk.

And in his drunken state, he thought it was a good idea.

Obviously it wasn't.

But anyway, it happened.

He noticed she'd left the festivities and he glanced around. He spotted her leaning against the outside wall talking to Miller about something seemingly important if he went by the look on his face. He stood up, downing the remainder of his drink for courage and stepped over the log.

Raven yelled his name but he waved her off saying he had stuff to do. He stumbled over to her and Miller saw him. Bellamy gave his a quick nod that he returned. Miller then made an excuse and left.

"Princess" He dragged out, leaning against the wall next to her.

She spun around, her shoulders suddenly going ridgid and she crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't trust herself around him. "What do you want Bellamy?" she sighed.

He pouted, "Why aren't you drinking?" He asked drunkenly.

She sucked in a sharp breath and looked away. Bellamy frowned, maybe she remembered? "Because I do stupid shit when I'm drunk" she muttered angrily.

There was a knowing smirk on his face, "That's the beauty of Alcohol. It gives us the confidence to say things we would never say if we were sober."

Clarke's breath hitched. Oh fuck. She knew what he was talking about. She knew he was baiting her. Act cool. Act cool. She shrugged. "Sure, yeah sometimes" she looked up at him, "And other times you make up some of the most ridiculous stuff".

He cocked his head, "See, I believe, that when you're drunk, thoughts that you pushed down to the back of your mind, thoughts that you really do mean, come back to the surface and you blurt them out."

She shook her head, "I think you come out with things you'd otherwise never mean."

He shifted closer, his arm brushing against hers and she felt a surge of electricity through her veins. "Clarke." He breathed. She turned her head further away. He placed his hand under her his chin, forcing her to look at him. She looked scared. She was scared.

"Those things you said" he paused when she closed her eyes to hide her guilt. "I think about them too"

Her eyes flew open, wide with shock. "You what?" she breathed.

He smiled sadly, "I think about leaving. Running away. Starting again by myself." A wave of disappointment washed over her as she realised which one he meant. "But then I think about leaving you and I realise that I don't want to. I couldn't even if I tried." He murmured, tracing her jaw lightly with his fingers. "I think about Bonnie and Clyde."

Her breath hitched.

Okay. Despite the fact that Bonnie and Clyde were murdering lovers, that was actually a pretty romantic thing to say. Because they've both got their flaws (Murdering is a flaw, okay!) but they both found solace in each other.

"I think about Us. And it drives me mad because I'm not good for you." he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You and me. Against the world" he smiled sadly.

"Bellamy" she breathed warningly, "How much have you had to drink?" she asked quietly.

He let out a breathy laugh, "A lot. I'm not going to remember this conversation tomorrow. But that's good. That's what being drunk's for." He explained, stepping away from her.

He began to walk back towards the campfire but she called after him. "Right now. The things you're saying. Are you serious Bellamy or drunk Bellamy?"

His face was illuminated by the glowing fire as he smiled softly, "Drunk Bellamy"

It hurt her that he wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was lying.

She watched him walk away. He sat back down next to Raven on the opposite side of the fire. Miller handed him another cup of moonshine and he took a sip, his eyes trailing to Clarke over the rim. She held his gaze. He was watching her  like some kind of prey, an animalistic desire in his eyes and despite the heat from the distant fire, she shivered. She's ashamed to say, she looked away first.

____________________________

He remembered the conversation.

And he avoided her entirely for another week. In the end the images he kept forming in his mind and the thought of ever anything with her was driving him to the brink of insanity. He kept glancing at her from across the camp. Watching her as she smiled and laughed.

He kept thinking about what it would be like to hold her, touch her, have her be his. To be able to sleep in the same bed as her and kiss her whenever he felt like it.

So he went on a hunting trip. Alone. For two days. And he didn't tell her.

Which looking back at it now, was probably a stupid and petty thing for him to have done.

What made him regret it more was the wrath that quickly followed.

___________________

They were arguing.

And it wasn't some small disagreement that got fixed after couple of minutes of screaming. This was a hug, fireball, explosion of an argument that had resulted in neither of them managing to be in the same room as each other.

"I'm going to kill him"

"You already said that" Raven pointed out.

"I'm going to rip out his throat and gouge out his eyes with my fingers and I'm gonna- Oh I'm gonna- kill him!" She swiped her hand across the table, watching as the moonshine bowl and bloody bandages fell to the floor with a clatter. "That egotistical son of a bitch. I'm going to bury him alive." She kicked the table.

"Whoa, Clarke, calm down"

She slammed her hands down against the table, "No I will not calm down!"

Raven leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and cocking her head. "You're angrier than usual"

"Yeah. With good reason."

"This isn't anything he hasn't done before"

"Yeah but-" she flatered, spluttering, "But.. But-"

"But- But- what?" Raven chorused with a mocking smile on her face.

Clarke paused, staring at Raven in shock. "Oh, shut up" She waved her off.

Raven shook her head, "You should talk to him"

"I refuse to even look at him."

The flap to the dropship pushed open and Bellamy stormed in, throwing his gun onto the table with a loud clang. "Well tough luck princess, 'Coz you're going to have to"

Clarke stared at the wall, ignoring him. "Get out Bellamy."

"Clarke look at me"

Clarke.

Oh, he was pissed.

"Clarke" he repeated in warning.

Her hands gripped onto the table, her knuckles turning white. "Bellamy I swear to God if you don't leave I'm going to kill you." She seethed.

Normally she could control her anger. Normally she'd yell at him, but this time, this time, she was so angry she was sure that if he came any closer she'd punch him. Or kiss him.

Whatever.

"You need to calm down Princess" he mocked.

She snapped her neck around to look at him, "Calm down? Calm down?" She screamed and Raven begun to feel sorry for Bellamy. "Don't tell me to calm down you ashat!"

"I don't understand what I did that was so wrong!" he cried defiantly.

She narrowed her eyes dangerously and Raven smirked. "You don't know what you- Oh my God." She cried in despair, "It's like talking to an eight year old" she cried sadly.

His hands balled into fists, "What the fuck is wrong with you Clarke?"

She stared at him in shock, "What's wrong with me? You. You are what's wrong with me!" She screamed, pushing him back. "You went on a two fucking day hunting trip, by yourself!" She yelled.

He frowned, "I had my gun."

"I had my gun" she mimicked immaturely and he felt his anger rising, "Yeah, that's really fucking great Bellamy. Not like you could have got yourself killed."

He opened his mouth to say something and then stopped, staring at her. "I could have got myself killed? I thought you were pissed at the fact that I didn't tell you."

"Oh, I am." She snapped.

"What is the big deal about me leaving by myself? I can shoot, I can hunt, I didn't take any guards so you were all protected, I brought back a deer and a few squirrels. You were never in any danger and nothing happened." He explained, trying to calm her down.

She stared at him, Her anger seeping into her body instead of out. To him, she seemed calm. (Ish). But he still didn't get it. He didn't understand that if he died, she wouldn't have been able to do this without him. If he died, she wouldn't have known what to do. She would have missed him. That she cared for him more than she cared to admit.

She shook her head and looked away from him. Raven was still leaning against the wall, but this time she was frowning at her. "Whatever" Clarke snapped, pushing past him and storming out.

She needed air. She needed to get away from him. She knew that if she was around him for too long, she'd do something stupid. She stormed way from the dropship and everyone jumped out of her way. It was almost like an isle across the dirt.

"Clarke!" He yelled from the entrance. When she didn't respond he cupped his hands around his mouth, "Clarke!".

She didn't turn around, "Go float yourself Bellamy." She hissed.

"I still don't get what the big deal is!" he yelled.

She spun around. He was standing at the entrance of the drop ship, looking jut as confused as she felt. "You don't get what the big deal is?" she started walking back towards him, her finger pointing at him "You don't get what the- I could have lost you!" she yelled.

It took all his willpower not to kiss her right there.

She felt- no, she heard their audience intake a sharp breath. Bellamy stared at her with his eyes wide and his mouth open. She ignored them, prodding him angrily in the chest, "You could have been killed and then I would have been left all alone. I would have lost you. You don't get to leave me. Okay? I need you. Did you think about that, huh?" she asked angrily.

He stood there, shocked, as she turned around to walk away again. "Clarke!" he called and this time she kept walking, determined not to turn around. "Bonnie!" he tried.

She stopped in her footsteps. Her hands balling into fists as she grit her teeth. She turned around to see the look of utter despair on his face. "Bonnie" he repeated pleadingly. He would never say the word please, but she could feel it.

"What the fuck's a Bonnie?" Jasper muttered.

She stared at him with an emotionless and blank face. Her eyes were dead, he could tell, and it killed him that he was the reason. She smiled. A cold, heartless smile that made his blood run cold.

"You don't get to call me that."

_________________

Needless to say that after that, they both, mutually ignored each other like the fucking plague. Clarke sent messages through anyone she could and Bellamy did the same. Everyone made sure they were never in the same room as each other.

But then things things got bad.

Really bad.

A little girl who went by the name Eve was brought into the drop ship after she'd fallen out of a tree. She was so young and so scared and Clarke couldn't do anything. She reminded her so much of Charlotte. And she couldn't do anything.

Eve had broke her leg and hit her head. Clarke thought she could have helped her. Bandaged her head and put a make shift cast around her leg. That was until she had a seizure. Her head wound was worst than she'd thought and Eve died in an insurmountable amount of pain. And Clarke died along with her.

So a cup of moonshine was something she really needed.

And she had a cup. And another. And another. And another until she couldn't stand up without falling. So she sat against the wall, on the outside staring down at the graves. eighteen. Well, nineteen now. She took another sip.

She bit her lip. She refused to cry. She needed to stay strong. She needed to act brave. But a tear still rolled out.

She could feel him standing by the gate, watching her. She could feel his eyes on her. And eventually he approached slowly, sitting beside her with his back pressed against the wall. He didn't say anything, he didn't have to. They both just sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the cheering inside and each others breathing.

"Princess-"

"Can you, just, not say anything" she interrupted, not turning to look at him as she took another sip, "I just really can't handle anything from you right now Bellamy" she stated.

He shook his head, "I was just going to say; Don't beat yourself up over what happened. Its not your fault."

She scoffed, taking another sip. "Right." she drawled, "It's not like I'm the healer here. It's not like it's my job to make sure people live." She snapped angrily.

"Hey" he started, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything." he emphasized.

She nodded, not believing him for one second. She sighed, looking out into the woods.

"You know, I think this is the first conversation we've had in weeks" he stated.

Clarke pondered for a moment before turning to look at him, "You know what? I think you're right." She smiled.

Bellamy would never tell her, but, he loved her smile. More than anything. "Did you mean it?" he asked quietly.

I need you.

She smiled sadly, "Of course I meant it."

He nodded. Looking down at his cup. Their thighs brushed but neither of them pulled away. Clarke sighed, looking up at the sky. "Look. You can see the stars" she stated dreamily.

He looked up, following her eyeline to the view. Earth was crazy, mad, unpredictable and dangerous but it was also beautiful and breathtaking and irreplaceable. And the stars reminded him of the spark Clarke sometimes got in her eyes.

"I shouldn't have left" he said quietly, leaning his head closer to whisper in her ear, "It was stupid and I didn't mean to worry you."

She smiled softly, "Was that an apology?" she asked.

He let out a breathy laugh, leaning away and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah I guess" he shrugged. He wasn't good at apologies. He very rarely had to make them but he felt like he was disapointing her.

"I'll take what I can get."

He sometimes came to wonder what he'd ever done to deserve her. To be blessed with her presence around him. To have her beside him at all times, whether it was to question him or put him back in his place. He was grateful. And somewhere along the line, co-leaders had become partners. And partners had become friends. And friends had become an unexplained, undefined, unspoken of agreement between the two of them.

And he wanted to tell her. Tell her just how much she meant to him. He shuffled in his positions. He touched her wrist as though to gain her attention. She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were filled with every emotion he was feeling.

He was showing her that he wasn't hiding it away and he looked so vulnerable, scared. She understood what he was trying to tell her and she smiled slightly.

"I need you" he murmured.

She nodded, "Good. Because I can't do this without you."

"Clarke I..."

"I know" she agreed softly, her hand finding his and their fingers interlacing slowly, carefully. "I know" she repeated.

The warmth of her palm was relaxing him and he didn't think he could handle being around her any longer if she kept making him feel so... Calm. Happy. He knew what this action meant. It meant, in another world, another time, another situation, I could almost love you. It could happen if we weren't in such a twisted life.

She glanced up at the sky again, "But for now. Can we just sit in silence and forget about the possibility of us all dying tomorrow. Can we just be a boy and a girl, getting lost in the stars"

He pulled her palm to his lips, pressing a soft kiss and wrapping both his hands around it before pressing a kiss in her hairline, "Okay."

She sighed, allowing her head to drop onto his shoulder. "Okay" she repeated.

______________

Something was definitely wrong with them.

Because despite the calm, tender moment they'd shared, they ignored each other for another week. (When he says they he means him) And Bellamy doesn't think that's normal. Sometimes he'd catch her eye from across the fire. The flames would illuminate her face and her eyes would glisten.

A low rumbling would roll up in his stomach and he'd feel breathless, tongue tied. It was embarrassing. He didn't feel like this. He shook his head, trying to forget or ignore his thoughts.

Other times she'd blatantly stare at him as he ordered people around. She watched his lips move as he spoke to her, sometimes she'd pretend hadn't heard him so he'd ask her again. She's pretty sure he knew, but he did it anyway.

"You can't keep ignoring me." she said one night.

Bellamy had barely stepped into his tent when she spoke. She was sitting on his table, not even the bed, with her legs cross underneath her and a cup of moonshine in her hand.

"Are you drunk?" she didn't miss the unspoken again at the end of the sentence.

"No" she held up the cup, "Liquid courage"

He raised an eyebrow, placing the gun on the other end of the table. He stood beside her, his hip against the wood as her fingers traced around the rim of the cup.

"You need courage to talk to me?" he asked, frowning.

She titrered, taking a sip, "You're a pretty scary guy sometimes" she commented.

He smiled and she felt her heartbeat quicken. She blinked at the brightness of his grin. "It's just a mask. I'm actually a big softie" he whispered loudly, as though a badly kept secret.

"I don't doubt it"

He pushed his body into the table with his legs hanging over, touching the ground. She held out the cup to him with a raised eyebrow and he accepted.

He took a long gulp and she smacked his arm, "Hey!" she snapped, snatching it back, "Watch it."

"So what do you want, Princess?" he asked.

She pointed at him, "You can't keep ignoring me." she stated and he shrugged, standing up. Suddenly feeling a little too exposed under her gaze.

"I thought I was doing a pretty good job." he started to walk away but she wrapped her fingers around his wrist.

"Bell." she started softly and he felt a warm shiver run up his spine at the husky voice she used, "I mean it."

"Look" he started hotly, "I don't know what it is you want from me but-"

"I want you to say what you're thinking." she interupted, placing the cup calmly onto the table.

He raised an eyebrow, "What I'm thinking of what I'm feeling?"

She waved her hand, "I don't really care. Just give me something to go on. Something real. Not some bullshit lie."

"I think that you should leave and I feel that you're annoying me" he replied, cocking his head.

"We're getting somewhere" she smirked.

"Clarke"

"Bellamy" she mimicked.

"What do you want?" he groaned.

"Look. I'm not going to pine after you Bellamy. I'm sick of waiting for something to happen when obviously it's not going to."

"It might"

"Might is not good enough for me Blake." she snapped harshly, losing her composure. She took a deep breath, "So you tell me now. Is there a chance that it could happen. Or do I need to move on? Because if I move on that's it. I'm done."

She'd laid everything out in front of him. She'd basically told him how she was feeling. How could someone do that? How could someone say what they were feeling and feel exposed?

He stared at her. She'd expected a move on. But she hoped for a chance. He looked torn. He couldn't tell what he was feeling. He couldn't figure out how to tell her.

"I don't know" He admitted softly.

She smiled knowingly, "Okay".

She uncrossed her legs, throwing them over the table and standing up. He watched carefully as she downed the moonshine in one. She turned around as she walked out, waving to him behind her shoulder.

"You know where to find me."

____________

"She won't wait forever, you know?"

It had been another week and he and Clarke's partnership (Or whatever you call it) was getting back to normal. They were still arguing and yelling but they had moments, small moments, where they really got along.

Sometimes he'd bring her some food incase she got hungry. Sometimes she'd show up at his tent with a big bowl of moonshine. Other times they'd joke and sometimes he'd just stare at her.

That may sound slightly creepy, but he just couldn't help it. He was ao mesmerized by her. So curious to the way she worked. He thought she was strong, and gorgeous and powerful and loyal and ao beyond anything he'd ever seen.

"What?" he replied, distracted as Clarke started to sort through the rations.

Octavia rolled her eyes, pointing to Clarke in full view of his eyeline, he blinked, "That hot blonde over there" he glared at her, "Isn't going to wait for you, forever."

Bellamy shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about" he replied tightly.

Octavia threw a berry into her mouth, smirking, "You can't lie for shit"

He smiled and shook his head as he remembered the time Clarke had said the same thing to him. Bellamy glanced back to Clarke who had pursed her lips and was mouthing numbers. Octavia followed his eyeline.

"You know. You could be more subtle" she commented.

"Shut up." he snapped.

"Go talk to her." Octavia suggested.

"What for?" he asked and Octavia rolled her eyes, shoving him off the log so hard he fell in the mud with an umph.

"You know what for" she stated.

Bellamy looked back up at Clarke who was watching him with an amused smile and laughing eyes. She pursed her lips to stop from giggling and shook her head.

He wished he could kiss her.

Man, did he want to kiss her.

"Shut up and eat your berries" he shot back.

She threw another one into her mouth. "I mean it Bell. Don't lose this one. She's good for you."

Bellamy narrowed her eyes, "Okay, I want bitchy Octavia. Not Zen guru Octavia."

Octavia threw a berry at his face, "You want more of that, Asshole" she laughed and Bellamy laughed along with her.

Clarke hadn't heard Bellamy laugh too much. She'd heard him occasionally, once in a while. But now, when she heard him laugh, she felt warm inside. His laugh made her happy, more than she cared to admit.

__________________

Octavia's right.

She doesn't wait forever.

"Hey princess. You ready for our usual night of bitching and drinkin'?" he asked as he walked into his tent.

Usually Clarke was there, already putting a dent in the bucket of moonshine or making herself comfortable. She never sat at his bed, always at his table. But as he walked in this time, she was on his bed.

Asleep.

There was a bucket of moonshine that she hadn't touched, by his table and her shoes at different corner od the room. She'd taken off her jacket and thrown it over a tent pole and had lay down on his bed.

Her hair was strewn about the cushion and her hand under her head, curled lightly into a fist. He knees were drawn to her body and she looked peaceful.

Bellamy felt a soft smile creep onto his face as he quietly pulled his gun off his shoulder, placing it in the table. He shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over hers and kicked his shoes across the room.

He climbed into the bed beside her, making a dip in the mattress , and pulled the animal furs over both their body's.

"Bellamy. You suck at being stealthy." she mumbled into the cushion.

He chuckled, pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes as she speedily opened them. They were clouded with sleep but he saw them crinkle into a smile.

"Hi" he whispered, his fingers lingering over her cheek.

She smiled, "Hi" she replied, placing a hand on his chest.

"You know, you practically invited yourself into my bed" he murmured.

She closed her eyes and sighed loudly, "I can leave if you want" she stated, knowing he'd never make her do that.

"Nope. You're alright here." he smiled, placing a kiss on her forehead.

See.

He flet her sigh, relaxing into his body as his arms wrapped around her, pushing her closer to him. He buried his head into her shoulder, placing a kiss on her neck. She shivered.

He placed a soft kiss on the side of her mouth. "Bellamy..." she warned.

And then he kissed her. It was slow and warm and soft and she felt hee body heat up under his finger tips and she felt intoxicated. He was poisoning and contaminating her with love and lust and she felt a surge of fire through her veins.

He kissed her like the world was ending (Which to be honest, it could.) he kissed her like he had all the time in the world. It was like a bittersweet message hidden in his lips. One he would never tell her.

This isn't right.

He shouldn't be so addicted to someone. He knew that if she died, or disappeared, he'd probably break down. He didn't remeber how he managed before her. It seemed so boring.

She broke away with a sigh, her head pressed against his and her eyes closed as she tried to slow down her heartbeat.

"You shouldn't do that." she muttered breathily.

"What?" he replied.

"Lead me on if you're just going to break my heart." she whispered.

"I'm not going to break your heart" He replied, offended.

She cracked one eye open, "But you are going to lead me on?"

"I'm trying not to" he mumbled sadly.

"Then don't" she replied.

"Its not that easy"

She rolled her eyes, "It literally is."

When he didn't reply she looked up and saw his eyes closed. She sighed closing her eyes momentarily and pushed his hands away from her waist. His eyes flew open as he watched her stand up.

"Where are you going?" he asked, leaning up on his elbow.

She glanced back at him, "Back to my tent"

His hand reached out to wrap around her wrist. "Wait" She narrowed her eyes at him snatching her wrist back.

"I'll see you tomorrow" she stated, pulling on her shoe and reaching for her jacket.

"Wait, Clarke" he said confused, jumping out of bed and grabbing her arm to stop her leaving.

"What?" she sighed.

"Why are you leaving?"

She looked at him sadly with an understanding look. She placed a ha.d on his cheek, leaning up onto her tip toes to press a soft kiss on his lips.

"You know why"

"You can't force me to make a choice"

"Well you know what, I am. I can't keep doing this Bell." she cried, throwing her jacket over her shoulders. "I can't keep pining after you. I want this" she stated and she saw his eyes widen, "But you obviously don't."

"Hey I never said that" he frowned.

"Then say it." she cried, throwing her arms our wide, "Say it Bellamy. I want you to say that you want it. Me. That you want me." she repeated.

He stood there silent, staring at her. He wanted to say it. He really wanted to say it. And she could tell. He opened his mouth and then shut it again, shaking his head.

She sighed, throwing her hair over her jacket and storming out. "Clarke wait!" he cried, rushing after her.

She crossed her arms over her chest to keep warm. "What?" she sighed, turning around.

"Listen, you know I..." he faltered, rubbing his eyes.

"Look, obviously you're not going to do anything a about it. So I'm just going to go and move on. Which is what you should have told me to do in the first place. Then I wouldn't have spent months waiting around for you!" she cried accusingly waving her finger at him.

"But I don't want you to move on!" he replied.

A crowd started to gather, all whispering between each other. "Then fucking say what you have to say to keep me here."

"I... I-... Clarke I...-" he stammered over his words.

She raised an eyebrow expectantly and then turned around. He groaned, striding forward and pulling her closer with one hand in her hair he pulled her in for a kiss.

The crowd cheered and Clarke threw her arms around his neck. His hand traveled up her back, feeling the warm milky white skin beneath his fingers. He pulled at her hair, widening her mouth and fire filled her veins.

"Hey, Bonnie?" he murmured against her lips.

"Yes, Clyde?" she replied huskily.

"I think I'm in love you" he whispered.

"That's good. Because I might be in love with you too"

"Seriously, what the fuck's a Bonnie?"