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The alcohol could not stop the tortuous reel playing through his head, or numb the pain of his shattered heart. Her words echoed through his mind, banging against the inside of his skull. It was dark and bright and dull and sharp and everything all at once. In the end, at the bottom of it all, everything was just pain. Shooting, agonizing, incessant pain.
But he still loved her.
He would always love her.
That horrible moment played over and over, and the utter helplessness was overwhelming. How had he not known? They were just friends; always just friends. It was foolish to think anything more. It was foolish to think the long, deep conversations, the lingering hugs, the deep gaze; that the tears shed together meant anything more than that.
It was foolish to try to kiss her.
Bellamy wished he could take it back now. Even though she said it was okay, he knew it would never quite be the same. They’d had something magical, with a clear line drawn in the sand, and in a moment of weakness he had crossed it. He sighed deeply, shaking his head. She was just so beautiful and smart and kind and perfect. She was perfect. He was weak, and now he could lose a friend. Not just a friend--his best friend. The best friend he had ever had.
Never in a thousand years would he forget the look in those deep blue eyes. Never would he forgive himself for that confusion and sadness he caused in her; that panic dancing across her face. It wasn’t her fault. She did nothing wrong. He wanted to explain, but the words refused to leave his clenching throat. He wanted to tell her that he had loved her since the moment he saw her, that he cared about her more than life itself, that he would never in a million years do anything to hurt her.
Except he had done this.
If she hadn’t grabbed his hand, Bellamy would have bolted. Even with that support, his body continued to gravitate toward the door, pulling and begging to just leave. It was excruciating to sit there next to her, touching her, feeling the warmth from her hand holding him there, knowing that the answer to his burning question was and would forever be a resounding "no".
No.
You’re my family, she’d told him. Bellamy could hear the shaking in her voice and feel the emotion dripping from her tongue. Please don’t make me hurt you. Please understand. Those words never left her lips, but he read them in her eyes loud and clear. He understood; he really did. Understanding didn’t make it hurt any less. Understanding wouldn’t change anything.
He finished off another beer, wishing he could smash the bottle against his skull to mask this ache with something new. Whenever he felt this way, he would talk to Clarke. They would talk for hours and joke and laugh between his unloading of emotions until they both felt satisfied and refreshed. Now the cause of his turmoil was her, and what he had done with her, and he had nowhere else to turn. Without her he was lost. It wasn’t worth it; this wasn’t worth it. He would rather have her in his life as his closest friend and never anything more, than fuck this up and not have her in his life at all.
Why had he tried to kiss her?
You know I love you, Bellamy.
That was the most painful part of it all, that she loved him, and would always love him, but never like that. Never as a partner. Never in the way that he loved her. Countless times he had watched Clarke fall into a relationship, overcome with jealousy. It stung every time. It kept him up at night, eating away at his heart until the exhaustion took him. Every time he would support her, because of the happiness it brought to her life. If only Bellamy were able to provide that joy and excitement in her life. He would pass the time thinking of what their relationship would be like; how good it could be for them. At one point, she had been attracted to him. That time had clearly come and passed.
You know I will always love you. I promise.
With all his heart, he believed that. But she would never know the love that he felt for her. It was more than just love for a friend, or even a family member; it was stronger than anything he had ever felt before. When she laughed, he laughed with her; when she cried, he cried beside her; when she smiled, he couldn’t help but smile back. She was simply intoxicating. If it was up to Bellamy, he would spend every waking moment by her side. With her, the world was magical. With every fiber of his being, he loved her. Now with every fiber of his being he ached.
Another beer gone, and he realized this was it. His chance was over, because it had never actually been. All of that possibility had just been in his mind; just a foolish man’s dream. Clarke had never done anything to suggest otherwise, but that idea had been bred from a desperate hope. Now the hope was faded. The love of his life would remain his friend. She would love again, but not him. She would live on, but not with him.
Hope was gone.
You will always be my best friend, if you’re willing. That will never change because of this.
He would take that. Gladly, he would be her friend. Gladly he would support her through everything. Not hoping for her mind to change, nor hoping for her feelings toward him to evolve into something new; no, that would be a false hope. There was no place for that anymore. The only hope he wanted was for himself; that in time the ache would dull. Perhaps in time he could learn to stop loving her.
It was a ridiculous hope, but now it was all he had.