Fault Line (Bellarke)

• 38 •

Clarke

I have made many mistakes in the past. Most of which I am aware of, but I could've sworn this was not one of them.

Standing there awestruck, I couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Bellamy had walked out that door with nothing but arrogance and sarcasm plastered on his perfectly sculpted face.

"Bellamy seems like he's in a rush," said Octavia, completely oblivious to what had just played out behind her back.

"Hey, may I ask you something?" I quickly cut in.

"Sure," she shrugged and took an entire pancake, rolling it up and eating it just like plain, like that. I swear I will never understand the Blake siblings fully.

"Who's Julia?"

Octavia stopped stuffing her face and chewed unexpectedly, like the pancake had suddenly turned into glue. Her eyes darted and she started to look visibly uncomfortable. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering..." I trailed off.

"Where did you hear about her?" She demanded, in a slightly defensive tone.

"Just...Bellamy mentioned her once."

Octavia looked genuinely surprised at that. She raised one eyebrow, "seriously?"

"Yeah."

"...and he didn't tell you who she was?" She finished.

"Not exactly. He just mentioned her and I can't help but be curious," I concluded.

Octavia sighed, "well, I'm sorry Clarke but that's not my story to tell. He will tell you if and when he is ready."

"Oh..." I couldn't help but be majorly disappointed and despite my best efforts, Octavia caught my disappointment.

"Don't worry Clarke, if Bell thinks you need to know, then he will tell you." She smiled and handed me a plate stacked with pancakes. "Eat up, we need to get to work, and you're not even dressed yet!"

She was right, I had walked straight out of the room with my stomach rumbling like the earth was going to split in two and the smell of the house burning down.

You know, I do intend to stay alive and I just wanted to make sure we didn't need to evacuate.

I thankfully took the pancakes and slathered butter and maple syrup all over it. Despite everything that happened with Bellamy sitting heavy on my mind, there's barely ever a time pancakes won't lift my spirits. My spirit needs lifting from its grave anyway, considering it's basically dead these days.

The butter melted and oozed as I dug in. Who needs to diet anyway, that's so last year. I suddenly remember Bellamy made the pancakes.

Holy shit, these pancakes really are perfect like him.

***

Walking into Blake Industries every morning is like walking into a death sentence and miraculously making it through every time. It was such a dead building itself, but full of life. People were everywhere.

With my spiritually uplifting pancake experience finished, I was back to dwelling on the crappy things in life.

Now it was time to face Bellamy Blake, and I knew he was going to roast me today like a ready to roast chicken.