A series of bellarke oneshots

I See No Colors Without You

Not my story. (This is sad)
It happens like this: the day is hot and grey, and her mother is waiting for her to arrive at their weekly lunch.
It happens like this: she is looking at her phone, not paying attention to the path in front of her.
It happens like this: Clarke is walking down the street when someone bumps into her and her world explodes into colour. She is first angry, then surprised, then quickly becomes angry again when the stranger - her soulmate - takes one glance at her and gaps it.
"Hey!" she yells at the man's fast retreating back (the top he's wearing is blue. She decides that if he weren't running away, blue would be her new favourite colour).
He glances back again and hesitates slightly. His face is freckled, and when she gets a closer she can see that his eyes are a dark brown.
"Wait," she says, reaching for his arm.
He jerks away slightly, but doesn't run any more, so she counts it as a mild success. She stares for a second - first at him, then at the streets around her.
"Bellamy," he says, surprising her when he holds out his hand.
"Clarke," she smiles, and takes his hand.
"Sorry. Panicked." he rubs his neck sheepishly.
"It's okay. Did you maybe want to..." she trails off.
"Coffee?" his fingers tighten on hers as though he's now afraid to let her go, when just moments before he was running away.
She nods, and thoughts of her mother waiting for her disappear entirely.
It happens like this: one glance, one touch, and her life is changed forever

****

It happens like this: a week of coffees and caring and colours before Bellamy carefully leans down and kisses her goodnight.
"Octavia's waiting... I should go," he says, before leaning down and gently pressing his lips to hers.
She sighs into his mouth, and arches up into his touch. Her hand pulls on his curls, and his are warm and large on her back, holding her close, closer than is safe for her thoughts right now. It's only when he mouths against her neck and she lets out a strangled sound that is certainly not fit for the public place in which they are that he pulls back. Her chest is heaving and both of their breaths are coming short. His cheeks turn pink, and she thinks that pink is definitely a manly colour.
It happens like this: kisses are suddenly placed on cheeks and hands and lips and necks, and hands are now constantly tangled in each other.
"God, you two are insufferable," Clarke's best friend Raven says upon meeting Bellamy for the first time.
Clarke just smiles and looks pointedly at the bionic limb attached to Ravens thigh (an invention of her own soulmate), before pecking Bellamy on the cheek. Just because she can. Raven groans, then goes back to tinkering with her newest toy.
It happens like this: their lives are now intertwined, and they're dragging all of their friends along for the ride.

****

It happens like this: a murmured confession in the dead of night after a long and tiring day.
"I love you," he breathes into their shared air in his bed.
"Say that again," she replies, and sleepiness she had is disappearing from her body.
"I love you," he repeats, louder this time.
She grins, and kisses him before responding with the same words.
It happens like this: they spend the rest of the week whispering those words to each other like children, until even Clarke's mother gets sick of it at their lunch.

****

It happens like this: a forcibly casual suggestion, and then lots and lots of boxes.
"So I was thinking..." Bellamy says one morning, his head pillowed on Clarke's stomach, his fingers wrapped around hers.
"Uh oh," she grins, and he swats at her arm.
"Do you wanna maybe move in?" he asks, his voice suddenly quiet, insecure, as if she would even think about saying no.
She nods faster then she probably should, and doesn't even hesitate before replying with a "yes."
He breathes a sigh of relief and crawls up her body to kiss her.
It happens like this: that one kiss leads to another -- and, well, they don't get any packing done that day

****

It happens like this: the sun is shining bright and golden - golden, to match the silver on the ring.
"Clarke Griffin," she hears, and turns around to find a sight that's never going to leave her mind.
Her breath catches in her throat, and suddenly she can't speak.
"Will you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife?" his eyes are shining, and Clarke's never been more thankful that she decided to walk to lunch that day.
"Yes," she chokes out, and then they're hugging tighter than ever, and kissing in a clash of lips and teeth and happiness.
It happens like this: planning takes over their entire life, and even though it's hectic and chaotic, she's never been happier.