Ice ~ Bellarke

Chapter Three

The music swelled as Clarke dipped and weaved across the ice in tandem with Wells. They moved in sync, their skates carving into the ice and their hands dancing lightly over each others' arms. Wells reached for her and Clarke leaned back, arching her neck as Wells lifted her up by the waist. She twisted and rolled down his arms to land on the ice. He threw her up and she spun in midair, her hands ghosting over his shoulders and chest-

"Bellamy."

-she rotated impossibly fast on one blade, her long blond hair flowing out behind her like spun gold. Wells lifted her again and she glided effortlessly across his back before settling somewhere at his hip with her leg tangled around his. He set her down and skated away but she closed the distance between them and whipped around him, coming up short in front of him so that their noses nearly touched and her hands splayed across his chest-

"Bellamy!"

"Hm?" Bellamy tore his eyes away from the ice and jerked his head around to face his assistant captain.

Nathan was leaning against the boards and staring at him expectantly.

"Sorry, what?" Bellamy asked.

Nathan huffed and rolled his eyes "I asked if you have a solid date yet for the showcase tournament. I need to book it off work."

Bellamy shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "Jaha's being sort of difficult, we're still working on him."

"We?" Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Who's we?"

Bellamy frowned slightly and turned back to the ice.

"Me and Clarke."

Nathan's eyebrows raised even higher.

"Right," he nodded and averted his gaze, his head hanging slightly as he smiled at the floor.

"What?" Bellamy ground out.

"Nothing," he shrugged. His shit-eating grin said otherwise.

Bellamy scowled but chose not to say anything, opting instead to fold his arms over the edge of the boards and rest his chin against his wrist. He stared moodily out at the ice until a strangled scream echoed through the arena. Wells crumpled to the ground and Clarke skittered backwards away from him, landing hard on the ice. Within seconds, Clarke scrambled to her feet but Wells stayed down. Another strangled scream rang out. Bellamy and Nathan exchanged matching looks of apprehension before they both vaulted themselves over the boards and skated to Wells.

"Okay, Wells, just lie on your back for me," Clarke murmured soothingly from her position crouched next to him. "Is it your ankle or your knee?"

"Knee," Wells gasped.

"Alright," she squeezed his hand.

She looked up at Bellamy and shook her head almost imperceptibly. She stood up and skated to a stop at his shoulder.

"I heard it pop," she breathed. He bowed his head to hear her and they shared a significant look. They both knew what a pop meant.

"Should I call an ambulance or do you want to drive him?" Bellamy asked.

Clarke chewed on her lip.

"I'll drive him," she nodded. "Let's get him up," she said and skated back towards Wells.

"Hey, hey, hey," Bellamy called softly, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her back. "We got him," he insisted.

Bellamy and Nathan both hooked an arm under Wells' shoulders and another under his legs to carry him off the ice. It was a slow, painstaking process- every jostle sent Wells reeling with pain. Finally, they got him outside and into the back of Clarke's car. Bellamy shut the back door and rounded the side of the car to where Clarke was waiting with her keys in hand.