you can call me babe for the weekend

december twenty fifth

Clarke pulled the blanket over her head and groaned. It was Christmas, and she was alone. Well, not completely alone. She had Bellamy, and his company was better than being alone throughout the holiday weekend.

Clarke looked around the room, and the night before all came rushing back to her. The way she giggled as she grabbed his hand leading up the stairs. The way he kissed her up against the hall wall and pulled her shirt over her head.

Rising from the bed, Clarke walked out into the hallway and picked up Bellamy's dark green flannel shirt he wore to the bar the night before. She crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. She grinned from ear to ear as she watched Bellamy cook. It felt familiar, and it felt right. And for the first time since her parents' divorce, this place actually felt home. Was it crazy for her to think like that?

"Bell," Clarke giggled, failing to stay serious, "If my dad catches you, we're both screwed."

"Relax, Princess. Your dad loves me."

"Yeah, but I doubt he would love knowing you sneak into my room at night, and if my mom found out, she'd lose her shit."

"All the more reason for you to stay quiet."

"I was perfectly quiet before you climbed up onto my balcony."

"Oh, yeah? Nerd."

"I'm not a nerd. My admissions essay for UCLA is due tomorrow night."

"UCLA, huh? So you're leaving then?" He asked sitting on the edge of her bed. Clarke climbed onto her bed and sat against the headboard.

"I have to. Mom wants me to go to the best med program, and right now, it's the best."

He placed a hand on her leg. Med school would be nice. As much as she knows she would love it, she doesn't want to go. Her desire isn't as great as that of Doctor Abigail Griffin.

"Clarke, you don't have to go just because your mom wants you to. This is your life, not hers."

"Just like having to work and raise your sister while in high school?" The words flew out of her mouth faster than she could think to shut it.  The air was heavy, and Bellamy looked away and then back.

"Bellamy, I'm sorry. I—"

"It's different, and you know it."

"I do, Bell. I know. I'm sorry. I'm just on edge with everything. Mom and Dad's divorce, school and getting ready for college. I just want them to be happy."

He moved beside her, placing his arm around her. She moved closer into him and placed her head on his chest.

"Clarke, you deserve to be happy too, you know."

"I could say the same to you."

"Is it crazy that right now, here, with you, I am?"

"No, it's not crazy at all."

Bellamy turned to look at Clarke. She leaned against the wall in nothing but his flannel button up, her hair still messy and untamed.

"Jesus, Princess."

"What?" She asked, curiously, stepping forward and walking towards him.

"Nothing," he let out a breathy laugh. She was beautiful, but he couldn't tell her that. They weren't like that anymore or ever, "Come here."

He lifted her up onto the kitchen island and he kissed her.

"You taste like bacon," she mumbled, her lips still pressed against his. He pulled back. His hands still on her thighs.