Bellarke Oneshots!

rhyme and rhythm

prompt #8

"you're afraid that you'll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there's only, like, 5 people around and I'm getting v suspicious"

for chloe! :)

---

It started as a reasonable solution.

Octavia was in a punk rock band, and Bellamy was her biggest supporter. He went to every concert, and pushed his way to the front every time. The only person that rivaled his own dedication was Octavia's best friend, Clarke. She was absolutely enthralled with the atmosphere, and was responsible for the design of both of Octavia's band's album covers.

Over time, Bellamy and Clarke started going together. It was a thing of convenience; they had only met once or twice before. But it saved gas, and they always had the best tickets available, so it just made things easier.

Not to mention the fact that Clarke constantly got lost in the crowd. It was a matter of concern for Octavia. The day Clarke showed up with bruises on her upper arms from being manhandled in the crowd that Octavia decided the only person who could keep her safe at these things would be Bellamy. Clarke protested, as she always did, but consented when 'Tavia showed her a picture of her brother. Hey, Clarke may be single and driven, but she wasn't hopeless. He was attractive and he went to punk rock concerts, what else could a girl ask for?

When they met it was only platonic. Bellamy liked to tease her and Clarke would always fight him on it. It was their mantra, it was how they were. They fell into an easy rhyme and rhythm of banter and head banging.

Bellamy was absolutely determined to "keep her from getting lost and bruised again" as Octavia had so nicely put it. One night when she got sucked away into the swirling vortex of the mosh pit, his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her back, a worried look adorning his face. Bellamy had done a thorough inspection to check her safety, and they proceeded to the front again.

When it happened the second time, he grabbed her wrist as a precaution, but when she started to look uncomfortable at the gesture, he maneuvered his hand into hers. Clarke was glad it was dark so he couldn't see how red her face was. even though their relationship was platonic, he was still...Bellamy. Overprotective, bossy, handsome...Bellamy. Clarke couldn't deny that she liked him, but she wanted to deny the fact that he was only holding her hand out of necessity. She didn't want herself to hope for something that would never happen. To Clarke, false hope was the worst thing there was.

It became a regular routine, which both surprised and delighted Clarke. She let herself revel in those nights, and let go when he let go of her hand. he never said anything afterwards, never mentioned a word of it, ever. Clarke got to the point where it didn't even seem abnormal anymore, that's just how it was.

Until Octavia threw a party.

It wasn't really a party, per se; there were maybe six or seven friends of hers present. Still, they were all laughing, drinking, and having a wonderful time when Bellamy casually reached down to clasp hands with Clarke. She couldn't help but look up at him in surprise; he had never done this outside of the concert venue. He looked completely at ease and unaware of the fact he had thrown Clarke off kilter at all.

He continued to hold it off and on for the rest of the night. Clarke fielded questioning glances of Octavia with shrugs of her own. She didn't know; this was new to her. But she was afraid if she asked Bellamy, he'd let go. She didn't want him to let go.

At the end of the night, Bellamy and Clarke walked out to his car. He had picked her up, so he was her ride home. When they situated themselves in the car, Bellamy talked just as he always did. about the latest butler game, about the last book he read, and how he had fun at Octavia's.

Clarke finally couldn't take it. "Why did you hold my hand tonight?"

Bellamy shot her a half interested side glance. "Why wouldn't I?"

She felt at a loss for words. "I..."

He sighed, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Please tell me you're kidding, princess."

She shrugged helplessly, eyes trained on her lap. "I don't know."

He finally looked at her, the smile dropped off his face. "You're serious, aren't you?" Bellamy pulled the car over and put in park. "Clarke. We're a couple. Why wouldn't I hold your hand?"

"We're a couple?" she asked in an unbelieving tone.

"Yes, Clarke!" he sounded exasperated.

"Well, I was never informed of this."

"Why else would I hold your hand? We spend so much time together, I just thought-it was instinct-maybe you don't, I--"

Clarke pressed a hand to his cheek. "You like me?" she asked softly.

"Yes, princess," Bellamy affirmed, leaning into her touch. "Since day one."

Clarke couldn't help the grin that grew on her face, or the fact that she surged forward to kiss him, which he happily responded to.

What could she say? It was a... reasonable solution.