Bellarke One Shots Book 2

71)Somehow the beauty will find you

On the list of Things Bellamy Never Expected to Happen, some random person climbing into the passenger seat of his car while he's at a red light is not even close to being number one.

Winning the lottery would be up there, especially since he never plays. His sister getting through six months without locking her keys in her apartment, maybe. A global nuclear fallout that forces humanity into space, sure.

But he's heard enough stories from friends and coworkers about drunk or confused people trying to bum rides that at first he assumes this will just turn into one of those anecdotes he pulls out to horrify friends' rural relations over cocktails.

Until he realizes that the person in question is wearing a puffy white wedding dress.

Which raises this encounter a few notches on the list.

"Uhhhhh," he says as the woman pulls yards of tulle onto her lap with frantic hands and slams the passenger door. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She turns to him, the veil pinned to her blonde hair – by a silver tiara of all things – obscuring her face, but her eyes flash at him through the sheer material. "Light's green."

Out of habit, he presses down on the gas, but can't help staring at her out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I'm gonna need you to explain yourself real quick, princess, unless you want me to pull over right now."

She bats the veil out of her face and glares at him. "Princess?"

He smirks and glances up at her head. "If the tiara fits." She huffs at him as he turns back to the road before them. "Did you honestly just run out of your wedding and jump into the first car you saw?"

"Why, no," she says, her mouth twisted. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Reluctant to admit his amusement, he settles for an answering grunt and points at an empty parking spot about a block up. "That looks like a good spot for me to drop you off, don't you think?"

"No!" She sends a frantic look over her shoulder through the back window. "Please just... just play along, okay? I'll make it worth your while. I need to get out of here."

He risks taking his eyes off traffic for a minute to look at her, even while she's still staring behind them. "You're not in any danger, are you? Is someone trying to hurt you?"

She turns wide blue eyes on him and he sees the split-second of indecision on her face before she shakes her head. "No, only my own poor decisions." Shifting in her seat, she leans towards him, her face earnest, and Bellamy's breath catches in his throat as he realizes how beautiful she is, all wavy hair and dewy skin and pink pout. He breaks eye contact, but she doesn't pull back. "Listen, I know this is unusual, but I need you. I can't go back, so please just... help me?"

Bellamy glances at her again and somehow he knows in his gut that he's going to regret this, but... "Where to?" he asks instead.

Clarke sits back and lets out the breath she'd been holding, knotting her shaking hands in her lap as she stares at this stranger's profile. Objectively speaking, he's an attractive man - mussed dark curls and cheekbones and bronzed skin sprinkled liberally with freckles - but right now he looks like something better: salvation.

He turns dark eyes on her, full of impatience, and Clarke realizes she never answered his question. "Oh, ummmm, well I should probably lose the dress if I don't want to be conspicuous." She places a hand on her corseted stomach and looks down at the beautiful, hand-stitched gown that had started to feel more and more like a burial shroud with every fitting.

Peeking up at her savior, she takes a chance. "What are the odds that you have a wife or girlfriend who would have something that would fit me?"

"Those odds would be extremely slim - not married, no girlfriend." His mouth twists with a mix of humor and bitterness that pricks Clarke's curiosity, but he shakes it off. "I've got a sister, though. She might have something she left at my apartment." Those intense eyes flash her way again, before turning back to the road. "Is this the part where you ask me to let a complete stranger into my home while I hope I don't become a statistic or a cautionary tale of what happens when you pick up weirdos in wedding dresses?"