Bellarke One Shots Book 1

32)Chase the Hurt

A/N Not My Story

Clarke woke up in the darkness to an insistent pounding on the door accompanied by her dog’s alarmed barking. “Milo, quiet,” she ordered automatically.

Disentangling herself from the blankets on the couch, she dug around in her bag for her small knife as the knocking continued, rattling the door. Milo barked again, already sniffing beneath the doorframe to where a shadow blocked the light from the hallway.

“Come on, O, I know you’re in there,” came a deep voice.

A deep, drunk, oh-so-familiar voice.

Clarke rolled her eyes, foregoing the knife. She knew exactly who that was. Marching through the kitchen, she pulled Milo back with a clipped warning. Then she yanked the front door open without a second thought. Bellamy had been leaning so heavily on it he nearly fell inside. As it was, he landed on top of her, his face just about eye-level with her chest. She staggered backwards with the force of his weight, her hands immediately clutching his sides to keep them both upright.

To his credit, he popped up immediately, dark eyebrows scrunching together. “Princess?”

Clarke shot him a glare, letting go to tug futilely at the straps of her tank top. “A very pissed off princess.” She shut the door behind him, glancing at the kitchen clock. “Bellamy, it’s 2:43 a.m! What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought O was home,” he muttered sullenly.

Clarke folded her arms. “And that’s how you treat your sister?”

“Whatever. Where’s Octavia?”

His dismissal only made her more angry. “What the hell, Bellamy! You can’t just barge in like you own the place and expect everyone to instantly cater to you.”

Bellamy whirled around, his own temper rising. “Took you about three seconds to start in with the judgment, princess,” he said harshly. There was an edge to his voice that would have warned most people away. His dark eyes glowered as he suddenly crowded her against the fridge. “But this time you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”

She didn’t take well to his attempt at intimidation, however impressive it was. Rising on her tiptoes, she brought her face inches from his. “Then maybe you should add the words please and thank you to your vocabulary.”

They glared at each other, neither willing to budge. Just as she was truly registering the anguish in his eyes, Milo barked loudly.

Both their heads swiveled in the direction of her dog, who sat in the living room, his tail happily thumping against the floor. Clarke sighed, grinding her teeth. “Milo,” she began, but to her surprise, Bellamy’s face lit up and he pushed away from her.

“Hey buddy,” he plopped down on the floor and scratched behind Milo’s ear - his favorite spot. “Look how big you’re getting. Princess is taking good care of you, huh?”

Clarke nearly got whiplash from the rapid change in Bellamy’s demeanor. Suddenly there was no hint of the distress that threatened to consume him just moments ago, and the misery in his eyes was well-hidden once more. Uncertainly, she took a step forward, watching him give Milo a belly rub with one massive hand. He was speaking in soft murmurs, the occasional “yeah, buddy, I know,” and “good boy” reaching her ears and making her relax slightly.

She sat down on the dog’s other side, curling her legs under her. Milo’s mouth hung open in a dopey dog grin as he looked up at her. She reached out to tickle his chin, glancing at Bellamy. “When was the last time you saw him?”