Fake Dating Blake

Chapter Eight

If someone had walked up to her and punched her in the stomach, Clarke imagined it would feel very much the same way she was feeling now. Raven wasn't looking at her; her eyes were fixed on the snowy decking beneath their feet. Finn and Bellamy were glaring at each other just off to the side, and all Clarke could do was stare at her best friend who, with four little words, had suddenly crushed Clarke's mood and any joy she'd previously felt with Bellamy close to mind. She managed to tear her eyes away from Raven long enough to look at Bellamy, and he turned to her at just the same moment. Their eyes locked, and Clarke wanted to say something; every word died in her throat, and she resorted to just running away.

She wheeled around and headed for the sliding doors. Once safely inside, she raced up to her bedroom and closed the door. Bellamy was fast behind her, ignoring Finn's warning of 'she probably wants to be alone or something' and Raven's 'Bellamy we really need to talk about Clarke'. He'd almost yanked the door off its hinges by the time he arrived in the room behind her. It closed with a resounding click, and the silence between them this time was the most uncomfortable yet.

Clarke had her back to him.

'Raven told you.'

She didn't turn to look at him right away, but she guessed he had his hands on his hips and that hard look on his face. She crossed her arms and took a deep breath; her shoulders were tense, and she tried to pretend that she didn't want him to massage them, to run his hands over her neck and down her back... She cleared her throat loudly, more for her benefit than anything else. She was too wound up to be thinking about his hands on her.

'Why didn't you?'

'When exactly – Clarke, would you look at me, please?' She obliged, reluctantly, and turned to him with pursed lips. 'When exactly was I supposed to drop that secret? A secret that, by the way, I didn't feel like it was my place to tell.'

'What are you talking about?' she asked, eyes narrowed.

Bellamy glanced up at the ceiling and shrugged. 'Raven and I had sex,' he said, and she flinched at the words. 'But it was a long time ago, and we agreed not to say anything because it didn't matter. It wasn't hurting anyone.'

'If it wasn't hurting anyone, why keep it to yourselves?' Clarke countered, faltering a little when she saw the look on his face. 'Why did you lie about it?'

'I didn't lie. There was just no need to ever bring it up. It had no bearing on my relationship with her, or her relationship with Octavia; or our relationships with you. It was our thing, and it's in the past.'

Clarke knew she was being ridiculous. She knew perfectly well she was over reacting, because Bellamy had only even really been her boyfriend for about a day, and even then she wasn't sure if he even was her boyfriend. They hadn't really talked about it; they'd kissed, really kissed, a couple of times and God, he drove her crazy. Her mind was constantly going whenever they were together, there was always something to talk about, always something to think about and truthfully, there weren't many people Clarke would rather be around. He was... he was just Bellamy, and the thought of him being anyone's but hers was uncomfortable.

'Clarke,' he said gently, and he was suddenly much closer than he had been before. 'What are you thinking?'

She couldn't look at him.

'This is too close to home,' she whispered, and suddenly it wasn't Bellamy in front of her. It was Finn, and Finn in his apartment with Raven on top, half under the sheets, and it was the tears stinging Clarke's eyes and wetting her t-shirt as she ran back to the elevator. It was Finn, all of it, and not Bellamy.

It wasn't Bellamy.

'You're not him,' she said quietly, hands falling to her sides. She balled her fists, but relaxed when he traced the tips of his fingers along her forearms.