Bellarke One-Shots [A Collection of Stories]

Of Love and Family

{Nova}

When someone that Clarke cares deeply for goes missing, she immediately blames Bellamy Blake. What Clarke doesn't know - is that he already knows.

Clarke stormed into Bellamy's tent, all rage and fire and light. Anger pulsated through her veins like a wildfire and consumed her heart with fury. Bellamy was sleeping soundly, shirtless on his mattress of furs and rugs. She studied his chest as it quietly rose and fell in gentle succession. Clarke's face almost softened, almost. When Bellamy slept, he looked innocent and vulnerable - she should know. She gazed at that freckled face nearly every night.

Although, sleeping seemed to be a thing of the past these days. He had one job - one single job to give Clarke an evening of peace and quiet.

Clarke was close to boiling point when she reached down and grabbed a pail of fresh drinking water. She strode over to his bedside and dumped the icy liquid onto his sleeping form. Immediately startled, his eyes flew open and he reached for his rifle beside the furs.

"What the hell!" He shouted, shaking the water out of his hair like a wet dog. He gazed up and noticed Clarke standing over him. She dropped the bucket and placed a hand on her hip, giving him a condescending look.

"Bellamy Blake," she grounded out, grabbing the sniper rifle out of his hands and placing it at the foot of the bed. "How many times have I told you to put a safety on that gun?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes and stood up, standing a head and a half taller than Clarke. He brushed past her and walked over to the small mirror nailed to the tent's supporting pillar. She narrowed her eyes to venomous slits and tossed at towel at him. Without even looking in her direction, he caught it easily.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She snarled, trying not to look at how his trousers hung so low on his hips or how he ran the towel through his wet hair. He smiled devilishly at her, the cocky grin she had seen so many times before.

He draped the towel across the wash basin and crossed his arms, leaning against the wooden pillar. Clarke could envision the steam coming out of her own ears.

"Well, let's see, the last time I forget something was - never," he began, his voice low and suggestive. "However, I do remember someone forgetting my birthday last week."

It was Clarke's turn to roll her eyes. There was absolutely no way Bellamy was going to bait her into another Battle of the Wits match again. He was so infuriating and he knew it. She knew it by the devilish smile plastered across his lips.

"Bellamy -" she started, her voice carrying a warning tone. Tonight, she was definitely not in the mood.

"And by the way, Princess," he said and pushed himself off the wooden support, sauntering over towards her. "If you wanted to get me wet, you only had to ask..."

He stopped millimeters in front of Clarke. Bellamy leaned down his breath against her ear and tucked in a loose curl. Lips as soft as silk traveled down her neck and to her collarbone. Calloused hands teased the waistband of her pants and tugged at her shirt. Clarke shut her eyes revealing in his touch and...

She placed two hands firmly against his chest and pushed him away.

Damn, he knew how to calm her down.

Clarke ran a shaking hand through her hair and turned away from him. His touch alone enticed her in a way no other thing on this earth could. Mustering all her anger once more, she turned on him.

"Nova's missing - again, wandering off who knows where!" Clarke yelled at Bellamy. "All I asked for was one night, one night to spend with Raven, Miller and the rest of them!"

Bellamy's eyes immediately softened.

"Clarke..." he whispered, taking a tentative step towards her.

"No!" She shouted and took a step back. "You were supposed to watch her and now she's disappeared."

A smiled played across his features which only managed to madden her more. He was staring at a shadow running outside their tent followed by another - more frantic - one. Clarke surged towards him, attempting to shove him in the chest, but he caught her and pulled her against him. Did he know how much of an asshole he was?

Clarke pulled away just as the tent flap was opened and a small, wild-haired creature came bursting through.

"Daddy!" She screeched, arms wide open. She tottered over on chubby legs and, with her hands fisted, begged to be picked up. "Ups"

Bellamy crouched down and swung her up into his arms, laughing heartily. Clarke, meanwhile, collapsed onto the bed in relief, running a hand down her face. The tent flap opened again, only this time with much more ferocity.

"Where did she go? Nova -" Octavia burst through looking like she was mauled by a tornado. Her hair stuck up at all ends and her clothes were coated in mud. Clarke took one glance at her and placed her head in her hands.

"I'm living in a circus..." she mumbled. "A three-ring circus."

Bellamy was bouncing Nova in his arms and the three year old was giggling uncontrollably. She reached out and tugged on Bellamy's black curls.

"I want you to know that you guys are the worst parents!" Octavia teased, wagging her finger at the toddler who was now sucking her thumb. "That little monkey has no fear, no fear of anything! You know what she did? She tried messing around with Raven's automobile engines - again."

Bellamy beamed like the sun was shining through his pores and ruffled Nova's dark hair. She squealed in delight.

"That's my girl." He said to Nova.

Clarke stood and walked over towards them. Bellamy tilted his head knowingly and reached out his arm, quickly enveloping her and the child in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and laughed when Nova grabbed at her nose.

"Momma..."

"You owe me, Bell!" Octavia called as she darted out the tent and into the night. And, for the first time in her life, Clarke was at peace.