...

Bellamy leaned back in his chair, taking a casual sip from his wine. He had his arm around Clarke, who was talking to Jackson about something or another. Jackson and Miller were sitting at the head of the table because, you know, it was their wedding.

Bellamy took a moment to survey his friends. Miller kept ducking his head and whispering things into Jackson's ear. Jackson was beaming, he was happier than Bellamy had ever seen him. They were holding hands, too.

He glanced at Clarke and smiled fondly. She was wearing a long strapless grey dress, with a white pearl necklace and black high heels. She'd brushed makeup on her skin this morning, which she almost never did.

The wedding had been very nice, Jackson and Miller had decided to have it at the beach, which Bellamy loved. The waves always calmed him. As Clarke leaned forward, his arm slid off her back. She was so wrapped up in her conversation she didn't even notice.

She also didn't notice when Bellamy stood and slipped out the door to the balcony, which had steps leading down to the beach. He took off his shoes and his suit jacket, leaving them hanging over the side of the railing on the balcony. He walked along the edge of the water, leaving watery footprints in his wake.

When he finally found a log to sit on, the sun was setting. The sky was beautiful that night, like it knew that 2 of his best friends were getting married. And Miller and Jackson deserved it- they deserved every bit of their happy ending.

But he wasn't sure he did.

Bellamy dug his toes into the sand and squeezed his eyes shut. He took a moment to imagine her, when she was younger, maybe 12. A memory brushed the surface of his consciousness. She was sitting at the counter, doing her homework, before chucking it at him and crossing her arms. "I can't do this!" Octavia told him. "It's too hard."

Bellamy picked up the paper and read it, frowning. "What was the name of the 3-headed dog that guarded the underworld?" He asked, reading the question out loud to her. "C'mon, O! You know this one."

"Cerberus." She told him, rolling her eyes. "I know that one."

He smiled at her, standing up to pat her head. He tossed her homework back and she caught it. "I'll help you, how's that? Then I'll make pancakes. Hurry though- school starts in an hour."

Octavia nodded, chewing on her pencil and already turning back to her homework. Bellamy smiled at his sisters back. She was going to grow up to be such a smart woman, he thought to himself.

A voice snapped him out of the memory. "Bellamy?" Clarke asked gently, sitting down on the log next him. "You okay?" She must have seen him leave after all.

He nodded, clenching his fists and staring off into the sunset. "Sorry," he whispered. "I was just thinking about Octavia again."

"Hey, there's nothing to apologize about, okay?" she told him as she put her head on his shoulder and intertwined their hands.

They sat in silence for a while, just staring at the sunset. "I'm going to paint this sunset when we get home." Clarke told him.

"Mm." he replied, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

Clarke bit her lip, turning to face him and grabbing both of his wrists. "Bellamy, listen, I..." she inhaled. "I used to hate you, you know that? Octavia and I- we were close, but you 2 were always closer. I think I was a bit jealous of the relationship you guys had. But then... we started to grow closer. I think... I think I always had a bit of a crush on you, but you were such a jerk at first I just ignored it. When Octavia died, you changed. You weren't the guy who teased me and taunted me. You sobered up. I thought that all I would ever want was to get the old you back, and I kind of have, in a way. We still joke and tease. But it's different, too, because you've got this new dark side that I'd never seen before. When you slit your own wrists, Raven and I were so worried. Because no matter how many times you say it... I'll never quite believe that you just weren't thinking straight."

Clarke closed her eyes. "Which is why I think..." Bellamy braced for the words, those hideous words that would mean he and Clarke were over. His body tensed, and suddenly it was a fight to breathe.

"Wait!" He said, before she could say anything. "Just... wait. Before you say anything, I just want to apologize for everything I've done. I really wasn't thinking straight, if I could go back in time I would've stopped myself." Bellamy swallowed, tears glistening in his eyes. "And I beg of you- please, please, don't let what we have be over just because of what I did."

Clarke blinked, dropping his wrists. And then, much to his surprise, she started to laugh. He stared at her in silent confusion and she laughed and laughed and laughed. "What?" he asked, a bit wounded. "Did I say something wrong?"

She shook her head, still shaking a bit from her giggles. "S- sorry. Oh god, I'm sorry. This is terrible, I shouldn't be laughing." He waited until she had regained control. "Bellamy, I wasn't going to break up with you."

Now it was his turn to blink.

"I was going to suggest we get married."

"What the fuck?" were his first words. Then, automatically: "We've been dating for like 2 and a half months, Princess. Isn't this a bit soon..?"

Clarke shook her head hastily. "Not right now, just soon. Maybe next year." She shrugged, like this was nothing, like she hadn't just fucking proposed to him.

"Okay." he said after a moment.

"Okay?" Clarke confirmed, beaming at him.

"Okay." he repeated, standing up and lifting her up into the air. She put her arms out to the sides and he twirled her around, before setting her on the ground and kissing her lips gently.

Bellamy pulled away, wrapping his arm around her bare shoulder. "I guess we're getting married then."

"I guess we are." Clarke responded, and they stared once more at the sunset. The waves lapped at the shore, which made the scene all that more beautiful.

But the most beautiful thing there was by far Clarke Griffin, who shone as bright as a firework in the ever darkening sky.