Fake Dating Blake

Chapter Five

Who is she?'

Bellamy couldn't be sure, because he'd never seen Clarke this upset over someone other than himself, but he thought she might need someone to vent to. She was huffing and puffing, angrily ripping clothes out of her bag and throwing them in the direction of her dresser. Bellamy happened to be standing in front of it, and he was catching each garment with ease. Clarke was flushed; the hot air she was blowing out of her cheeks was forcing the small tendrils of hair around her face upwards. Bellamy was amused at the sight.

'Clarke?'

'Just some girl from his school,' she said to him, and then quietly added to herself: 'I can't believe he's dating her.'

Bellamy turned to the dresser and started folding Clarke's clothes into the drawers. The inside of the wood was paler than the outside, and there were stickers here and there of things Clarke must have liked when she was younger. There was a worn My Little Pony horse on one end of one drawer, and on the other was a Backstreet Boys emblem. Bellamy snorted, and when he heard Clarke stop behind him he could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head.

'Got something to say?' she said, and he turned to find her with arms crossed. One eyebrow was raised. Bellamy drew his lips into a thin line and shook his head subtly, but Clarke knew him better than that. 'Everybody loved the Backstreet Boys.'

'Of course they did.'

'Alright then,' she said, and she turned back to her bag.

She was more relaxed now, and a few moments later she was even humming a tune. Bellamy took the quiet moments for what they were; a ceasefire in between their, well, fiery relationship. They moved around each other in the room, unpacking their things. When Bellamy came to his bag, Clarke directed him to the closet at the other end of the room. When he opened it, the light came on and he was greeted by wall to wall drawings. Sketches of all things; fruit, houses, the night sky... oh, the night sky one with the crescent moon in the middle, done completely in charcoal. He was mesmerized. He hung his shirts up and then pulled the drawing from the wall.

'Oh, those are so old,' Clarke said. She was suddenly next to him in the closet. Her hair tickled his arm as she leaned in. 'I'd forgotten about those,' she said in a dreamy tone.

Bellamy tore his eyes from the picture and sideways. Her hair smelled of strawberries; he hadn't noticed that before. There were weaves of light and dark blonde, all swirling together. She looked up at him with a smile that almost knocked him for six, and it would have if he hadn't been so concerned with the fact that this was Clarke Griffin. Octavia's best friend, roommate... Clarke Griffin that he couldn't usually stand to be in the same room as for longer than ten minutes, and yet they had never been this close...

She was still looking at him, and her tongue brushed her lips briefly. Then she was gone, back to her own bag on the bed. Bellamy put the drawing back where he'd found it and closed the closet door behind him. He looked at the clock on her desk. It was creeping up to half past three in the morning.

'Tell me again why you chose to drive so late into the night?' Bellamy tried to stifle a yawn, but it overcame him and soon, Clarke was yawning too. He eyed her bed. She was set for the night, and he looked around to try and figure out which patch of floor looked the most comfortable.

'There's extra covers at the back of the closet, and there should be a thick blanket for you to sleep on,' Clarke said in passing as she went to get the stuff for him. She retrieved them and set about making him a bed. 'I just prefer driving in the dark. Things are more interesting.'

'I think you're the only person who thinks that.'

'Maybe,' she said, and Bellamy caught the smile she tried to hide. He knelt beside her and started unfolding more blankets. 'Sorry about before.'