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#this is so fucking good i swear! – @thelegendofclarke on Tumblr

prev. goodqueenalys // semi hiatus

@thelegendofclarke / thelegendofclarke.tumblr.com

Mere. She/Her. Multifandom. House Stark Loyalist™. Salty winter adult and permanently exhausted pigeon. Known for my viciousness, continuous bullshit, two-faced fuckery, and desperation to maintain my BNF/Meta Queen status.
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patient heart - click through to read on AO3 + special thanks to @prosciuttoe​ for the graphic!

She gathers her groceries quickly, stocking up on staples and a few spontaneous items, like ingredients for s’mores. The fire pit on her back deck wasn’t going to use itself, after all. At the checkout, the young girl barely gives her a second glance, and Clarke is once again grateful. She remembers the women who used to work here when she was a kid, who spent the entire time gossiping about anyone who came in. She accepts her receipt and bags with a smile, and heads back out to the parking lot. When she gets there, she’s almost immediately run over by a shiny mercedes, and stumbles backwards, cursing loudly. Her back hits a firm chest, and she feels hands on her elbows steadying her.
“Easy, princess,” a low rumble meets her ears, and she freezes.
It’s not that she didn’t think she would ever see Bellamy Blake again – he was her neighbor now, after all – but she just didn’t really expect this. This, being Bellamy Blake in a park ranger uniform, his shirt fitting snugly against his chest, his badge gleaming off the pocket. He didn’t have the hat on, but it was just as well - she was able to see the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose much better this way.
Shaking off the thought, she pulls herself away from him. “Bellamy.”
“Clarke Griffin. Who would have thought.” He smirks down at her, and she swallows hard, stepping back further. “Octavia told me you were back.”
Clarke shrugs, not sure what to say. “I’m still getting settled.”
“Going to stick around for more than a week this time?” He asks, his tone biting, and she winces.
“Bellamy–”
“O said you were alone. Gonna be hard for you to fix up that house without your Mom’s money.”
Clarke feels his words like a physical blow. Normally she would snap right back at him, accuse him of being a townie like she would have if she were still sixteen, but her wounds are too fresh, her heart too broken. She forces a smile. “Good to know you haven’t changed a bit, Bellamy. Still an asshole.”
His eyes flash. “That’s rich, coming from you.” She sees hurt there in his eyes, buried under ten years of distance between them, and she looks away.
“Well, as fun as this has been, I’m going to go.”
“Running away was always your specialty.” His words just barely reach her as she walks away, and she heads down the street quickly, before she feels the first tear fall.
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