Something So Flawed and Free
written by: Josefine / @selflessbellamy
prompt: ‘ok this is awkward but my last one night stand didn’t seem to enjoy my hickey, you’re my best friend and has more experience than I do, so I was wondering…may I give you one so you can tell me what I’m doing wrong?’ for anonymous
authors note: I changed the prompt a little.
Even though the sun is sinking beneath the horizon, coloring it soft pink and bright orange, the heat still hasn’t surrendered to the night. Because of this, Clarke has submerged her feet into the cool water of the pool. Closing her eyes, she can smell the rose bushes and hear the distant chirping of grasshoppers. If only her day hadn’t sucked so much, she’d be able to enjoy it.
Men, she thinks to herself. How disappointing.
In fact, there’s only a single one she likes. She pictures him: His Monet-like freckles and curly dark brown hair behind her eyelids, just before he shows up. The sound of the pool gate opening is what announces him, and she quirks up to see him walk closer.
“Hey, I brought your favorite,” is the first thing Bellamy says, wiggling a large tub of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked ice cream, but moments later his brow furrows and he continues, “Are you okay?”
Although she knows that doing so will probably worry him more, Clarke stands and runs to hug him, because she needs it right now. Bellamy wraps his strong arms around her waist, pulling her closer, and she buries her nose in the crook of his neck. The scent of sunscreen from his skin has blended with the familiar one of his cologne. It’s soothing like nothing else.
“You’re scaring me,” he croaks while rubbing comforting circles on her lower back. Then he pulls away just enough to search her eyes. His earthy gaze holding hers is not unusual, but the way he’s looking at her, soft as ever, makes her heart swell and her mouth go dry. “Did he hurt you?”
Once he’s asked that the corner of his mouth twitches, so she decides to reassure him right away, placing her hand on his forearm. “No—he was just a bit of an asshole.”
Bellamy’s jaw clenches. “That’s not a comfort.”
Well, it probably isn’t. With a sigh, Clarke leans forward to press her lips to his sleeve-covered shoulder. She lets her hands roam his back for a minute, running them down his spine and across his muscles until he shudders.
“O—Okay. Enough,” he laughs, pulling away to grab her hand and lead her to the edge of the pool again.
Here, he sits down next to her, close enough that his knee brushes hers. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
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