Bellarke One Shots Book 2

53)Best Sight

The baby is born the first week of November. She's tinier than he remembers Octavia being, though he guesses he was littler then too. She has a dark cap of hair that Abigail Griffin tells him is all Blake--Clarke was born bald. He would tease Clarke about that, but he's too fucking in love with her and the tiny little person they've made together.

"How is she? She's quiet," Clarke mumbles, and he glances down at her to see her eyes are drooping closed. She's lying down in their bed and he's sitting upright next to her, holding their daughter in his hands so he can stare at her. The baby seems just as worn out by the ordeal of birth as her mother, her dark blue eyes drifting shut as she watches him, oh-so-serious.

"She-" Bellamy has to pause, clear his throat. "She's perfect, Clarke."

Clarke hums sleepily and stretches a hand out until her fingers tangle in the corner of the baby's blanket.

"Good," she sighs, and then her eyes slide shut completely.

"Hi," he whispers to the infant. She's stubbornly trying to cling to consciousness, but she's quickly losing the battle. "I know you don't know me as well as you know your mom. But you've kicked me a lot, and I think that means we have a bond." The baby makes the littlest noise and blinks slowly. "I'm your dad," he says, still in a whisper. "I'm never going to let anything bad happen to you, baby. I promise."

"She loves you," Clarke says; he starts--he thought she had fallen asleep. Her eyes are still closed, and her words are partially muffled by her pillow. "And I love you. But Bellamy, if you don't shut up and let us sleep, I will kill you."

Bellamy's lips quirk up. "Yeah, yeah, princess," he says. But he leans down and presses a kiss to Clarke's forehead, and watches her lips curve into a smile. Then he shifts down on the bed and moves the baby so that she's tucked up against his chest, and he can see both of his girls.

He thinks it's probably the best sight he's ever seen.

It's too much to ask that the kids leave them alone for longer than a day, and once Clarke's up and the baby's been nursed, the first of the visitors come trickling in.

(He'd heard the heated games of rock-paper-scissors taking place outside of their cabin to determine who got to come in first, and the dumbasses are damned lucky his girls are already awake or Bellamy would have marched out there and shut them up with force.)

Jasper and Monty are trying to push through the doorway at the same time when his sister yanks them both back.

"Coming through!" she declares, and drags Lincoln through the door with her.

When the boys' protests float through the air after her, she slams the door in their faces.

"Aunts get priority, losers; you'll just have to wait your turn." Then she turns and tackles Bellamy in a hug. "Congratulations, Bell. Now where's my niece?"

"Hi Octavia," Clarke says dryly from the bed. "Hi Lincoln."

"Clarke! Baby!" Octavia says. Bellamy and Lincoln watch bemused as she strips off her boots and climbs onto the bed until she's side by side with Clarke. "Oh," she says, very softly. "Oh, Bell. Clarke. Look at her."

"Your brother hasn't stopped looking at her," Clarke says.

Bellamy would protest except, well, it's true.

"Lincoln, come here." Octavia gestures at him without looking away from the baby. Lincoln looks to Bellamy first, then approaches the bed.

"She's beautiful," he says after a moment.

Clarke beams up at him. "I know," she says, and they all laugh.

"You want to hold her, O?" Bellamy asks when they quiet.