Getting the Perfect Distance [ Bellarke AU ]

Daisy

Clarke nodded not because she particularly wanted to leave with Bellamy, but because she was too exhausted to argue otherwise. And this time, his statement wasn't an arrogant command or assumption. Just simple words. After the disaster that happened and the fact that she felt violated for the second time that night, she didn't protest.

Bellamy Blake turned on his heel without another word and walked toward the front door. Then it struck her. "Wait."

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. Clarke teetered on her heels as she looked down the hallway leading to the great room. Laughter and music floated down the hall. Everyone had already forgotten about her. Did no one care that she seemed to have disappeared?

"Clarke."

"Shouldn't we say goodbye?" She asked, her voice a light whisper as she stared.

If the thought had crossed Bellamy's mind, it didn't occur to him to say anything. "Do you want to go say goodbye to them?" Bellamy replied to her question with a question, a slight snarl on his lips.

"What about your sister?"

"Octavia can take care of herself for the few minutes that I'm gone."

"But -"

Bellamy was in her face in the blink of an eye. "O isn't my problem right now."

Then he took her arm. His grasp wasn't tight, but it was firm. They didn't talk as he led her through the brisk night air toward his truck parked near the main road. It was the only non-Mercedes, non-BMW on the entire street. The rusted blue truck stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of black and white luxury automobiles. They passed Clarke's own car, a white Tesla model S. She would have to call Harper later and tell her it was still here.

When they reached his truck, he let go of her arm and opened the passenger door. Clarke climbed in, making sure her dress didn't rise up. She blushed deeply when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Bellamy staring at her legs. He noticed her watching him. Bellamy coughed, quickly averted his eyes and slammed the door shut. Pulling out his phone, he made his way around the front side of the car.

Bellamy climbed into the driver's seat, passing Clarke a sheltered look. "I let Octavia know I was taking you home. She worries."

Nodding, she started yanking on the seatbelt, but it wouldn't move. Like the rest of the truck, it was probably rusted. All her frustration rose up, and she pulled on it hard. "Dammit!"

"Hey, hey," Bellamy said, leaning over and prying her fingers off. "Be nice to Daisy. What has she ever done to you?"

In such a small space, there wasn't much room to move around and before Clarke could protest, Bellamy was already tugging on the seatbelt. His jaw grazed her cheek and his arm skimmed hers. They were quick touches, all accidental Clarke told herself, but she found it hard to breathe nonetheless.

"You named your truck Daisy?" She asked in a soft, willowy voice. She hadn't meant to sound like this, but Bellamy's nearness was doing strange things to her insides.

Bellamy got the seatbelt unstuck and brought it across her stomach, the back of his knuckles grazed over the front of her dress. Clarke jerked in her seat.

He lifted his head, startled. And she was just as surprised. "Sure, why not? Daisy's been my partner in crime for years," he said quietly, although his voice sounded no different. Damn him. "I bought her with my own blood, sweat and tears."

Their mouths were nearly touching. His breath was warm and sweet. Intoxicating. His gaze dropped to Clarke's lips, and her heart did all kinds of crazy. She wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through his inky hair. Would it be soft? Would it run through her fingers like oil? Clarke wondered -