Not Nineteen Forever (17) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega
a/n: hey angels! thank u for ur patience, here is yet another chapter of the hellscape that is n19f. as i said on my blog, u will either love this chapter or hate it. either way let me know what u think!! this is a big chunky one at 13k (ik i’m treating u during this quarantine) so grab ur snacks and settle in. lots of love, byeee!
trigger warning: a little light drinking xo
please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!
summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.
last chapter: Scarlet celebrated her birthday by helping Nina win back Monet, a surprise party organised by her girlfriend, and a suspiciously civil Brooke and Vanjie.
this chapter: from one birthday to another, the gang heads out to the country to celebrate Brooke and Akeria’s 22nd. everyone seems back on good terms, but will the combination of hide and seek, truth or dare, a hot tub and of course a lil bit of alcohol change anything?
***
“Holiday!...da-da-da-dum-dum-daaa, Celebrate!”
Brooke rolled her eyes, unable to help herself laughing as Nina rolled her suitcase towards Monet’s car. “It’s hardly a holiday, is it, girl? Overnighter in an airbnb in the middle of buttfuck nowhere?”
“Listen, I’ll take what I can get, thank you very much,” Nina raised her eyebrows, as Monet lifted the door of the boot up and Nina heaved her case inside.
“Oh, what a compliment,” Monet quipped from beside her, Brooke making a sick noise as Nina slid her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and gave her a squeeze.
“Not with girlfriends, obviously. You’re a Tesco Finest girlfriend. Not a smartprice girlfriend,” Nina explained, Monet smiling proudly and nuzzling their noses together. Brooke already wanted to vomit and she wasn’t even car sick yet.
“Pack it in, bitches, or Monet’s uninvited,” she deadpanned, pushing herself off the wall she was currently leaning against and looking up at her bedroom window, ignoring the girls’ shouts of indignation. “Right, have you got everything, yeah?”
“Have you seen the size of this bitch’s suitcase? I think she has literally managed to pack your kitchen sink,” Monet cocked an eyebrow at Nina, who elbowed her in the ribs. Nina produced her phone from the pocket of her dungaree dress.
“Hey Google, can you divorce your girlfriend?” she asked into the speaker, Monet howling a laugh and shoving her.
“Seriously, guys, I haven’t packed enough anti-sickness tablets for this,” Brooke said dryly, making her way to the passenger door.
“Oh, are you planning on recreating the great rail replacement bus fiasco of ‘18?” came a voice, Brooke turning round and narrowing her eyes at her smug flatmate, emerging through the door with her girlfriend and a small holdall bag.
“I was sat hungover opposite the toilet on a three hour coach journey, what the hell else was I expected to do?” Brooke defended herself. Yvie sat down on the wall outside their building, Scarlet joining her.
“Hmm, all I’ll say, Monet, is that I hope you have at least three empty plastic bags in the back seat with her,” she advised smugly, Brooke wishing she was still leaning against the wall so she could shove her off it.
“When is Plastique coming for you guys? Can I arrange for you to be sitting in the middle of the road when she drives up it?”
“Hey, what the fuck did I say?!” Scarlet yelped, outraged.
“You’re a bystander, Scarlet, and a bystander is worse than a bully,” Nina remarked sagely, Monet nodding along in support.
“Besides, I’m allowed to bully Brooke. It’s part of the lease,” Yvie shrugged, fixing the huge round sunglasses that had been on the top of her head and positioning them so they were right at the bridge of her nose. The March sunshine was welcome; it made Brooke feel happy, optimistic of things to come. Even the small scrub of grass out the front of their stairwell had bright purple, yellow and white bulbs poking through it, bringing a defiant sense of beauty to their surroundings. Brooke had been so pleased with the weather when she’d opened her curtains that morning that she’d packed a bunch of clothes she usually reserved for the summer. It felt odd wearing her denim skirt without the black tights she’d clad herself in for the past three months, but it was a welcome feeling. Yvie hadn’t really seemed to get the Summery memo other than her sunglasses- a huge knitted jumper covered in holes hung off her skinny frame and a pair of thick exercise leggings kept her legs warm.
“You couldn’t spruce yourself up a bit for my birthday, bitch? I feel like any minute now you’re going to start dancing around the street moulting straw singing about how you desperately want a brain,” Brooke smirked, Yvie simpering a fake smile and giving her the finger in response.
“It’s only fifteen degrees, Brooke, it’s hardly time to crack out the Kopparberg and blast T Shirt Weather yet,” Scarlet laughed. It was a bit hypocritical, Brooke thought as she looked Scarlet’s outfit up and down- a floaty, lacey dress and a pair of white Adidas- but of course she would defend her girlfriend. It wasn’t actually fair, contemplated Brooke. Scarlet and Yvie would always team up, so would Monet and Nina. Brooke had to fight all her battles herself.
“Besides, your birthday is over! Move on, hoe,” Yvie smiled, running forward and shaking Brooke’s shoulders relentlessly as the other girls laughed uproariously in the background. Brooke laughed and batted her away, knowing she was just joking. As she shoved her friend off of her, a familiar grey Audi drove up their street and pulled in behind Monet’s car. Plastique gave her horn a little beep, waving and rolling down her window.
“Let’s ride, bitches! I’m so ready for this weekend,” she squealed, as Yvie and Scarlet rushed to shove their bags in the boot of her car.
“I think I’ve been ready since we booked it,” Nina sighed, stretching. “Right, let’s go, girls! Dun-duun-da-na-na-dun dun.”
As Nina continued singing Shania Twain and hopped in the passenger seat of Monet’s car, Brooke passed by Plastique’s window and gave her hand a squeeze. “You know how to get there, yeah?”
“Up the motorway then off at junction 4 and then just follow all the signs for the B road. We good,” she nodded, then gave a laugh. “Kiki’ll probably end up in France somehow, you know what her sense of direction is like.”
“Yeah, but she’s got Silky and Vanj to direct her. She’ll be fine,” Brooke shrugged, thumping on Plastique’s door and making for the other car. “Right, see you ladies at the airbnb!”
Monet blasted her horn once, twice, three times as Brooke dashed into the back seat and buckled up. As Nina connected her phone to the aux cord and started blasting typically Nina-ish cheesy music, Brooke felt an excited little smile creep up on her face, slapping her hands against her thighs to the beat. The past almost-a-month had gone by quickly, and Brooke and Akeria’s shared birthday trip away had arrived before Brooke had known it. It had been booked on a whim, an excited message from Akeria on the group chat about a potential birthday night out had grown arms and legs until suddenly the girls were all transferring her money for a night in the country to jointly celebrate her and Brooke’s birthdays. They had turned 22 within ten days of each other, and the girls had all decided that the amount of money they would have spent on two big nights out- Ubers, big bottles of vodka for pres, club entry, club drinks and cheesy chips at the end of the night- probably equated to the same, if not more, than the amount they would drop on a boujie house in the country. The house they had booked was huge- five big bedrooms with floor to ceiling windows, a lounge straight out of a murder mystery drama with plush sofas, towering bookshelves and a massive roaring fire, a kitchen with a table big enough to fit them all round and an aga with what seemed to be a thousand burners- though whether anyone would know how to work the damn thing was anyone’s guess, Brooke thought with a snort. The icing on the cake of the whole place, though, was a huge section of outdoor decking with a hot tub set in the middle of it. To most of the girls it would be like living somebody else’s life for the weekend, but, Brooke thought mischievously, to Plastique it would probably seem the same as a weekend at home.
Brooke was glad they could all do something like this, go away together after what had happened. She didn’t really know what had happened to Vanessa to make her warm up to her so unexpectedly. It had all started when they were preparing for Scarlet’s birthday surprise; Brooke remembered how hard her heart had been beating that morning as she’d known it was the first time she’d be properly seeing Vanessa since they broke up, having to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans as the door to the kitchen had opened and Vanessa, Akeria and Silky had walked in. Akeria and Silky, to their credit, had been fine and normal with Brooke, despite the amount of dragging through the mud they had probably done to her name when they’d heard the news of her and Vanessa’s breakup. Vanessa, (understandably, thought Brooke) had hugged Yvie, Plastique and Nina, but not Brooke, the obviousness of the action lost in the frenetic melee of the girls seeing each other all at once. Brooke had preferred that, though. She wouldn’t have wanted the awkwardness of reminding herself how perfectly her arms seemed to fit around Vanessa, the brief scent of the Aussie shampoo she used in her hair, her head against her chest even for just the tiniest second.
After that, Vanessa had started with the digs. Brooke had thought she’d had malicious intent at first, until she got bored and decided to fire back.
(Yvie’s voice had yelled from the hallway. “Who’s made the cupcakes yet? Anyone?”
“Well if it’s Brooke, we all dyin’ tonight.”
“At least I can make something! How much do you drop on Deliveroo in a month, like, half your student loan?”)
With each verbal sparring match, Brooke had watched as the small, sardonic snorts Vanessa had given evolved into a full-blown beaming smile, the kind she always used to shoot Brooke’s way with the perfect white teeth and the tiny dimple and the little blush that hit her cheeks. It was almost painful knowing that Brooke had given up that smile. And that had been the moment. The moment that Brooke had finally admitted to herself what she’d been wanting to deny all this time- she deeply wished she hadn’t ended things with Vanessa, that she’d fought through the ick and given it at least more of a shot than she had. Now Vanessa had moved on and she was seeing someone else and she was happy. Happy without Brooke. Why had Brooke broken up with her so quickly?
She was an idiot.
“She was an idiot.”
Brooke snapped out of her trance, blinking and trying to figure out how Monet had managed to get inside her head. “What?”
“That woman. Blue car. Completely cut me off,” Monet rolled her eyes, frowning as she inched forward in the traffic until she was almost bumper to bumper with the car in question.
“Oh M'net, don’t start a fight,” Nina sighed, resting her knees against the glovebox.
“I’m not! I’m just letting a bitch know that her misconduct was noted,” Monet growled.
“Her misconduct was noted? God, you’re such a teacher,” Nina laughed, a big chuckle with loads of heart that made Brooke smile.
“Hey, so are you!”
“Stop fucking bickering or I will take your vocal cords and strangle you with them!” Brooke cried, tiring quickly. She watched Monet smirk in the rear view mirror.
“It’s alright, Neens. Just because Brooke’s jealous of happy couples and regrets breaking it off with Vanjie-”
“Wait what? I don’t…oh, Nina, for fuck’s sake! I told you not to tell anyone!” Brooke snapped, training accusatory eyes on her friend. After Scarlet’s birthday, she’d told Nina what she’d told Yvie, just in a little more detail, and she’d been more sympathetic than her other flatmate, making her tea and nodding understandingly as Brooke vented at her. Nina was usually good with secrets, a reliable and trustworthy friend. Brooke couldn’t understand why she would-
“Ahahaha!!! BITCH! You just totally exposed yourself! Oh my God!!” Monet screeched in time with her tyres, thumping her hand against the steering wheel. Brooke was confused, her heart still thudding. “Nina ain’t told me shit but I got eyes and ears, an’ I saw you two flirting at Scarlet’s. All damn day and night. You don’t act like that with someone you just broke up with.”
“Yeah I’m afraid you just spilled your own secret, Brooke,” Nina deadpanned from the passenger seat, giving a little laugh.
“Shit,” Brooke sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Great. Well, you probably think I’m a total asshole, Monet.”
“Hey, I’m a very chill person! You do you, girl. You wanna get with Vanessa for 3 months, break up with her for one and then get back with her again, that’s no business of mine,” Monet shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.
“Yeah, I know I made a mistake, thanks,” Brooke sighed, biting her lip as she let her thoughts wash over her. Monet had a unique angle on the whole situation. She lived with Monique, of course, and that whole thing was still going on between her and Vanessa, if a message Vanessa had accidentally sent to the group chat last week was anything to go by. Brooke had wondered for days on end whether it had actually been an accident or not, the content of the message sending her crazy with jealousy as it was essentially just Vanessa begging Monique to come round and fuck her into the mattress. She’d considered whether or not it could have been deliberate, but the absolute roasting Vanessa had received afterwards from the other girls couldn’t have been worth it if it had. Brooke considered asking Monet for some inside knowledge, decided against it, and then did a U-turn as she concluded that her pride and dignity were already bruised so she might as well go the whole hog and shatter them.
“So, uh…Vanessa’s still seeing Monique.”
Monet ran her tongue over her teeth. “She’s certainly round at the flat a lot.”
“So is that, uh…I mean, do you think that’s going to turn into anything more, or…?”
“I don’t know, girl, I don’t know if it’s my place to say.”
This is like pulling teeth. “Do you think they-”
“They’re having a lot of sex.”
“Monet!” Nina burst out in a shocked laugh.
“What?! They are!”
“Excellent!” Brooke exclaimed sarcastically, staring out the window as the city around them turned into fields and the houses turned into service stations.
“C’mon, Brooke, you have to admit you do kinda deserve this a lil’ bit,” Monet laughed, Brooke rolling her eyes from the back seat.
“Right, both of you shut up. I’m officially banning any conversations about pining or relationships until we get to the house. We sing, we eat snacks, occasionally we play I Spy. That’s it,” Nina scolded them, turning around in her seat and staring Brooke down. Brooke had never felt more like a disgraced teenager in her life.
“Ughhhh, fine, Mom,” Monet groaned, changing up into fifth as they hit the motorway, the weekend becoming more real and making Brooke tingle with excitement despite the news she hadn’t wanted to hear.
Just as Nina had ordered them, the three girls spent the rest of the journey singing at the top of their lungs to Vengaboys, B*Witched and Cascada, Brooke on crisp duty as she passed the cavernous bag of barbecue rib McCoys forward every five minutes or so, Monet making hurried grabs at crinkle cut crisps in between changing gears. Brooke managed to avoid the dreaded travel-sickness that had plagued her since she was about six years old, much to Monet and Nina’s delight. The sun didn’t let up, and it still hung proudly in the sky as the girls pulled up the leafy, tree-lined driveway to the house they’d booked, the branches hanging low and curling around each other signalling they hadn’t been cut in a while. Spying Akeria’s Corsa and Plastique’s Audi already parked, Monet pulled up alongside the huge white house, the little set of three stone chimneys on the roof puffing out smoke and letting the girls know that at least one room wouldn’t be too cold inside. As Monet neatened up her parking, the sound of Silky’s screeching cut through the crunching of wheels against gravel, and the rest of the girls spilled out of the front door shortly afterwards. As soon as the car had stopped, Brooke excitedly hopped out of the passenger seat, hugging any girl she could reach. Before she knew it, she’d found herself pulling out of a quick hug with Vanessa, and the two were in front of each other.
“Hey,” Brooke decided quickly to speak first, setting the tone so there wouldn’t be any awkward pauses.
“Hey! How was your ride? Get here okay?” Vanessa asked politely, tucking a strand of her caramel hair behind one ear. She was dressed in a tiny little cropped black jumper and some faded grey jeans, Brooke trying to ignore her mind reminding her of how right it felt to wrap her arms around Vanessa again, how tiny her waist was and how much she wished she could go back for another hug- for fuck’s sake, cut that shit out.
“Uh, yeah! It was fine. Traffic wasn’t too bad. How about you?”
Vanessa let out a laugh. “Shit was like Wacky Races. Akeria nearly rammed some old cunt off the road. I’ve never seen road rage like it, we genuinely feared for our lives. Or her license. Oh my God, this house is insane. C’mon, you need to see it!”
There was a split-second where Brooke felt Vanessa tug at her hand, which was quickly dropped as if the action had never happened. It was almost as if Vanessa had been on automatic pilot; the ease with which she used to slip her hand into Brooke’s hadn’t been forgotten by either of them. And then Brooke felt Plastique leap onto her back like a monkey, and the girl was excitedly chattering away to her, and the moment had passed.
Brooke barely had time to take in the huge cream-painted hall with the varnished cream stairs stretching practically up to the ceiling when Plastique steered her down two steps and into the kitchen, grey stone tiles making Brooke’s feet feel cold even through her trainers and the huge wooden table overflowing with assorted snacks. Akeria and Scarlet clung to the rail of the AGA, the two girls clearly feeling the cold in the chilly kitchen.
“Did any of us actually bring a meal between us or are we just going to live off of Twirl Bites and Classic Dip Selections?” Yvie wondered, picking up a four-pack of various dips. Brooke laughed.
“Hey, there’s pizzas in the fridge! Do y’all really think I would let you starve?” Silky piped up, opening the huge fridge to reveal at least ten pizzas, more than they would eat in one night.
“Nobody goes hungry in the presence of Silky Nutmeg Ganache,” Plastique smiled proudly, holding her fist out for Silky to punch. As the girls’ fists connected, Brooke watched as Vanessa scraped a wooden chair out against the stone floor.
“You girls wanna have a munch and then get wrecked?”
“Hmm, if we get drunk too early then there’s no way we’ll be able to work this oven,” Scarlet shrugged, biting her lip and frowning.
“Yeah, we’re gonna struggle to operate this sober,” Monet considered, opening up one of the oven doors and investigating.
“Well how about we snack and then play a game? I wanna play hide and seek in here,” Nina bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. Akeria snorted.
“Hide and seek, you’re such a child. But to be fair, that could be fun. Or sardines.”
“What’s that?” asked Brooke. “I don’t know if we had that but called it something else.”
“That one where one person hides and everyone else seeks,” Yvie explained. “It’s way better. Way more chaotic.”
“Sweet. I’m down,” Brooke shrugged. She was glad that all of the girls she was friends with were happy to dick about and play kids’ games for an afternoon, and it was the kind of thing she’d miss when she graduated and would have to find a job.
The girls were all feeling peckish after their long drive, though, so they all grabbed the nearest snacks they could and headed upstairs to the living room, where Akeria had managed to start the fire which was crackling warmly in the huge marble fireplace. They all dumped their food on the huge glass-topped coffee table and had a little explore around the house before they relaxed. There was a surplus of bedrooms, and it had been agreed that since they were celebrating Brooke and Akeria’s birthdays, the two girls should have a bedroom to themselves each. Brooke’s bedroom had a huge bay window out to the rear of the house where the fields stretched for miles, and an actual four-poster bed.
“I can’t help but feel like you guys should take this room and I should take yours,” Brooke said with a pang of guilt for Yvie and Scarlet, who had dumped their things in the room they were sharing and had come to investigate Brooke’s.
Scarlet made a noise of discouragement. “No, it’s fine! This’ll get cold anyway, it’s so big. Our room’s cosier.”
Brooke watched Scarlet share a smile with her girlfriend and wrap both of her arms around Yvie’s. “Yeah, honestly, Brooke, it’s fine. Scarlet would manage to bump her head and toe and Christ knows what else on all four of the posts anyway.”
Scarlet burst out into offended laughter, letting the girls know that she secretly agreed a little bit.
“How’re the others?” Brooke asked, peering down the little corridor with the exposed wooden beams and hearing chatter and Monet’s deep laughter coming from the other rooms.
“Plastique, Silk and Vanj are all in together. I think V drew the short straw so she’s on the sofa bed,” Scarlet gave a shrug.
“That’s unfortunate,” Yvie commented, raising her eyebrows at Brooke slightly.
“Behave,” Brooke smacked her, not appreciating the implication. Vanessa had only just become friends with her again. They were hardly going to spend the entire night going at it like rabbits just because Vanessa wasn’t looking at her like she wanted to kill her anymore. “Come on, lovebirds. I feel like I haven’t shovelled enough crisps down my throat today.”
The three girls made their way to the living room again, where Nina and Monet were draped over the sofa and snacking on some sort of jelly sweets. Gradually the other girls joined them in drips and drabs and they spent the time chatting and gossiping in their usual way- about anything and everything under the sun. Brooke kept finding her eyes being drawn to Vanessa. It wasn’t entirely her fault- she was sitting opposite her, and often Brooke would find her already looking her way. Although that could have just been Brooke’s imagination. God, she didn’t even know anymore.
“Right!” Nina cried, as everyone looked dangerously close to slipping into a snack-induced coma. “Sardines time!”
“Kiki should hide first, it’s her birthday!” Silky argued immediately, Brooke only the tiniest bit affronted.
“Hey, hey, it’s Brooke’s birthday too. Also, I feel like y’all are way more enthusiastic than me about this, so I really don’t mind.”
“Brooke hides first!” Nina shouted unnecessarily. Brooke stood up from the sofa and rolled her eyes.
“Wait, so everyone is after me? Christ. This is like that nightmare I had about being on Hunted.”
“Good luck tryna squeeze that Jolly Green Giant-ass body into any of these cupboards, bitch!” Vanessa yelled across the room to uproarious laughter, Brooke turning round in time to see Vanessa stick her tongue out at her.
“Oh, like you can talk! Are you not the same size as an actual Subway sandwich?” Brooke bit back, sticking her tongue out right back and feeling an excited fizz in her stomach as she caught Vanessa blushing slightly as she laughed. As the other girls joined in with the mocking and all piled on each other, Brooke spotted two girls who weren’t laughing- Akeria and Silky were looking at each other knowingly, a look that seemed to convey disapproval. What the hell was their problem? If Vanessa was fine with her, then that meant there was no reason for the two of them to hold a grudge either, right?
Brooke frowned, trying not to read too much into it. She turned around and headed out the door. “Okay, count to 100 then, bitches!”
As she heard the others all start chanting descending numbers like a terrifying cult of mathematicians, Brooke began dashing around the house for a place to hide. She ran past the bedrooms, assuming that the others would check there straight away. Brooke considered going behind the porch door, but then thought that might end up being too obvious. She found herself in the kitchen, and to her delight she noticed a huge wooden door set into the wall that had to be a cupboard. Opening it, she saw what looked to be a pantry- shelves and shelves with only a couple of tins left by other guests at the house. It was good, but Brooke didn’t think it was a particularly great place to hide until she spotted another door at the very end of the pantry- slightly smaller with a little circular handle. As Brooke turned it, she was confronted with a tiny dark room, with only the blinking lights of the boiler that sat inside to illuminate it.
Perfect.
As Brooke hopped in, she could hear the blood roaring in her ears and her heart thumping. She wanted to giggle. This was exactly how it had felt to play hide and seek when she was little, and she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old still feeling the same way. Hell, she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old playing hide and seek. Gradually, she began to hear the sound of footsteps thundering above her, the old ceiling creaking and letting Brooke know the girls were on their way. Then, it all went silent for a while. Brooke breathed out heavily. Just then, she heard the door to the pantry open and one set of footsteps shuffle through it. They dashed to the end of the room and then seemed to be satisfied that there was nothing more to investigate- until Brooke heard them do what seemed to be a double-take. Keeping her breathing silent, Brooke stood frozen to the spot as she saw the door gradually open with a long, murder-mystery style creaaak…
Shit.
Vanessa stood at the doorframe to the cupboard, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I’ve been tellin’ Yvie I’m the best at hide and seek, but she ain’t believe me. What’d that take me, two minutes?”
“Yeah, good job, Poirot,” Brooke smirked, although it was hiding a multitude of nerves. Her and Vanessa, stuck in a tight, dark space together until the other girls found them. This was fine. This would be fine. “Right come on then, girl, you need to get in.”
“Fuck no, I ain’t goin’ in there! That’s a straight-up spiders’ nest, fuck that.”
“Just get in!” Brooke grabbed her gently but firmly by the wrist and dragged her inside, closing the door behind them. It was entirely dark except for the small strip of light where the door met the doorframe, which illuminated Vanessa’s hair and collarbones. There was a small beat of silence in which Brooke’s eyes adjusted to the darkness again, and when her vision had settled she could see Vanessa smiling at her cheekily. “What?”
“There’s a spider in your hair.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “No there’s not.”
“There is! A big one. It’s some Harry Potter type shit, I swear.”
“Shut up, Vanessa, I’m not falling for that shit,” Brooke snorted a laugh, squashing the unease that began to creep up on her.
“It’s got, like, a billion eyes.”
“Has it.”
“An’ forty legs,” Vanessa bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
“What the fuck kind of biology classes did you go to? A spider with forty leg- JESUS!” Brooke all at once cut herself off, feeling a movement at her shoulder, her hair flicking against her neck slightly. She gave herself such a jolt that it felt like whiplash, and she watched as Vanessa laughed at her brushing wildly against her shoulder. Brooke was confused when her hand connected with another hand. Vanessa’s hand. How the hell she’d managed to reach up there without Brooke’s notice was anyone’s guess, but she’d certainly done what she’d set out to do. Brooke launched herself forward and squeezed a hand at Vanessa’s waist, laughing as the other girl screeched in response. The two girls descended into giggles, Brooke having to fend off Vanessa’s playful swipes as she berated her.
“Shut up, bitch! You’re going to get us caught!” Brooke laughed, grabbing one of Vanessa’s wrists in each hand. Suddenly, both girls paused, the compromising position they were in dawning on both of them. The memory of when she used to pin Vanessa to the bed with both her wrists and kiss her neck shot through Brooke’s mind like a hot iron, unwanted and welcome all at once. In the darkness, she could see Vanessa’s single raised eyebrow.
“You telling me you don’t wanna get caught?” she murmured, her voice low and making the atmosphere charged and thick with something that hadn’t been there before. Brooke squeezed her thighs together. This couldn’t turn into something else. She couldn’t let it.
“Well, that is the whole point of the game,” Brooke said, trying to inject as much level-headedness into her tone as she was able. To her dismay she watched as Vanessa’s eyes took on a dark twinkle.
“Oh, right, uh-huh. The game. Sure,” she smirked, Brooke only able to laugh in response because that way she wasn’t saying anything. This situation was fucked. It was so weird. Vanessa was flirting with her, unprompted. So what did this mean? That she still liked Brooke? That she wanted to be friends and was just playing? What did this mean for her and Monique? They couldn’t be that serious, then, if Vanessa was doing all this? Or maybe they’d fallen out and Vanessa wanted her to be jealous? But what was the point of making somebody jealous who wasn’t here? What if her and Monique were together and Vanessa was cheating? What if-
“AYYYYYY FUCKIN’ HOES! Yes! I’m shit-hot at this game, Jesus!” Silky threw the door open, screeching her head off and sending every thought that Brooke was overthinking into the stratosphere.
“Stop yellin’ bitch, and get in!” Vanessa laughed. As Silky squeezed into the ever-decreasing-in-space cupboard, Brooke felt her throat almost close up as Vanessa shuffled up against her to make more room, tilting her head up, locking eyes with Brooke and sending her a look that she couldn’t decipher before looking away and whispering to Silky.
They were eventually found by the other girls- namely because there was no space at all once Scarlet arrived so Plastique found half of the girls with one toe in the cupboard and the rest of their bodies outside of it. The game carried on, but Brooke’s head wasn’t properly in it. She would deliberately put in the bare minimum effort when she was looking for the girls because, really, she wouldn’t know what to do if she was stuck in another confined space with Vanessa. Why had it turned so weird before? All flirty and edged with something she couldn’t work out. It wasn’t right- Vanessa was meant to be mad at her, meant to hate her and never want to speak to her again and somehow they’d gone from civil, to nearly-friends, to eye-fucking each other in a boiler cupboard in the space of a month?
The encounter was still playing on Brooke’s mind as she got ready for dinner. The girls had all decided that they would “do a Love Island” (in the words of Akeria) and all get glammed up to sit in the living room and play games after they’d eaten. It felt funny to be putting on a dress, heels and fake lashes without the possibility of going out anywhere, but the methodical process of putting on her makeup was a welcome distraction from the swirling thoughts in Brooke’s head.
“Ayo,” came an unexpected voice, causing Brooke to flinch a little and drop the lipgloss she’d been applying moments before. Looking behind her in the mirror she saw it was just Yvie and Nina. Usually she’d have been happy to see them, but right now she was doing too much overthinking and couldn’t let on what had happened earlier between her and Vanessa. So Brooke just stuck on her best fake smile as she turned around to face them.
“Hey! You guys look so good,” she complimented them, Nina smiling and Yvie giving a little snort.
“Well I didn’t want to be accused of not making an effort for your birthday again,” she poked her tongue out at Brooke and tugged a little at the beads on the hem of her short gold dress.
“If you trip in those heels I hope you know that’s, like, instant paralysis,” Brooke commented, looking at the spikes of Yvie’s six inch stilettos. When the girl did glam, she did glam, Brooke had to give it to her.
“As if Yvie needs to be any taller than she already is,” Nina laughed playfully.
“Awh, she needs to be tall so she can look down on her smol bean uwu girlfriend,” Brooke teased, Nina continuing to giggle and Yvie giving an amused roll of her eyes.
“What’s up with you anyway, bitch? You’ve been, like, extra bitter around all the couples today. It’s supposed to be your birthday, cheer the fuck up,” Yvie gave her a little nudge with her foot. Brooke frowned. She didn’t think she had been being bitter, but maybe Yvie was right. Fuck, what had she even said today? Brooke hoped that Vanessa hadn’t noticed anything.
“No, that’s not true. I’m fine! Just…” Brooke sighed, the bingo-hall-style tombola spinning rapidly in her head to generate an excuse. “…exams are soon, you know, and I’ve not started revising yet-”
“Oh my God, bitch, they’re in May! This is March! Chill the hell out,” Yvie laughed, pulling Brooke up from her position on the floor by the long mirror in the corner of her room. “Let’s go eat pizza. If Monet and Plastique have worked out how to cook them in that 1920s horror oven.”
As Yvie excitedly strutted out of the room and Brooke made to join her, Nina reached out to squeeze her hand.
“You’re a crap liar, Brooke Lynn Hytes,” she hissed quietly, Brooke rolling her eyes and making to protest when Nina spoke again. “But I won’t push it. I just wish you’d open the fuck up more.”
Brooke felt guilty. “I just don’t…it’s something I don’t want to overthink, Nina. So the best way you can help is helping me stuff myself full of carbs then pouring a 24 pack of San Miguel down my throat.”
Nina nodded understandingly as they reached the top of the stairs, Brooke holding back a snort as she watched Yvie cling to the bannister for dear life as she descended. Nina gave her hand another squeeze, then dropped it. “I can do that. You look beautiful, by the way.”
Brooke shyly looked down at her short, black one-shoulder dress and smoothed it down. “Thanks, babe.”
Nina’s smile suddenly turned scheming. “And so does Vanessa.”
Before Brooke could protest, Nina was bounding down the stairs in her bright white Filas that she’d paired with her blue and white checked dress. It wasn’t as formal as Brooke’s or Yvie’s, but that was the beauty of having a glam night in a big house where it was just them- nobody could judge you for being over or underdressed.
As Brooke followed her flatmates into the kitchen, she was met with the sight of her friends all happy, chatting, and in their best outfits. Annoyed at herself, she found her eyes darting around to find Vanessa. She wanted to know why Nina had said what she’d said, wanted to know if she was just winding her up.
And then her eyes came to rest on the most gorgeous version of Vanessa she’d ever seen, and her anxiety dipped, did a loop, then spiked. They were both in black- some dumb coincidence that the earth had sent her way, no doubt- but Vanessa’s was shiny, a vinyl dress that clung to her as if it was made of latex and painfully highlighted every curve of her body. She’d paired it with red heels, which had straps that snaked their way up her calves and showcased her perfect skin. Her dark hair had been blow-dried out (probably by Akeria, Brooke guessed) and fell in perfect waves down her back and over her shoulders (had she fucking highlighted her collarbones?). Her makeup was, as usual, perfect, a dark shock of eyeshadow and an indecent red on her lips causing Brooke’s heart to race. The worst part, though, about the whole outfit, was the silver zip that ran from the top of the dress to the bottom, right in the middle at the front, and either Vanessa (or someone mucking about with her…probably Silky) had unzipped it just the tiniest amount. For about the hundredth time that month, Brooke cursed herself for breaking things off with Vanessa. It wasn’t just about her looks though, or her body, or how much she missed the sex. Their interaction in the cupboard made Brooke remember how funny Vanessa was, how much of an endearing goofball, how she was just a cheerful person whose only real wish in life was to be properly happy. And Brooke had hurt her, made her the exact opposite of that. Vanessa loved everything and everyone so deeply, was the most open of books, and was so unafraid of feeling. Meanwhile there was Brooke not even able to tell her own flatmates, the two girls that knew her best in the world, about her own feelings.
As she watched Vanessa’s eyes drift from Scarlet and Monet, who she’d been talking to, across the room to rest on her, Brooke felt her heart stop. Not giving a single thing away, Vanessa smiled, gave a little wave, and crossed the room to where Brooke stood.
“Hey!” she began, so confident and self-assured and making Brooke feel more like a trashbag than she already did. “Nice dress.”
“Thanks!” Brooke smiled, uncharacteristically flustered at the tiny compliment. “You look so beaud!”
Fuck. Brooke kicked herself for getting tongue tied, badly hoping Vanessa wouldn’t have noticed. As she watched a confused smile appear on her face, Brooke realised she’d have to explain herself. “I was going to say beautiful, then I changed it to good and they just sort of…mushed together.”
Brooke felt her face grow hot as Vanessa simply raised an eyebrow in a smirk. “I’ll take both. Beautiful and good.”
Just as Brooke was about to defend herself, Silky announced to the girls in her own Silky-esque way that the pizzas were ready, and, giving a cry of delight, Vanessa had dashed across the room and left Brooke forgotten about.
As they all ate, Brooke fought an internal battle. She had absolutely no right to feel sorry for herself, this mess was entirely of her own making. Besides, she had to put everything out of her head now; she had made her decision, Vanessa had moved on, and she had to let the whole thing drop. But despite all this, it didn’t stop her brain constantly pestering her with what-ifs.
It was still pestering her once they’d all finished their dinner and moved upstairs into the huge living room for drinks and games, so she was glad when Nina popped herself down beside her with two ice cold bottles of beer from the fridge.
“One for each hand,” she explained. Brooke burst out laughing. She fucking loved Nina so much.
“Where’s yours?”
“Monet’s making mojitos for me and her. I love having a girlfriend, it’s like a sexy butler that you get to have sex with and cuddle any time you want,” Nina mused wistfully, giving Brooke her second belly-laugh in the space of two minutes. As she composed herself, Monet came into the room with two huge tall glasses overflowing with crushed ice and garnished with lime and mint.
“Where the fuck did you get mint and limes?” Brooke asked, screwing her face up in confusion then scrambling to pull a slightly more attractive one as Vanessa came in flanked by Silky and Akeria.
“I brought them, bitch! Anyway what did I miss?”
“Nina called you a sexy butler,” Brooke said casually, sipping one of her two beers and smiling as she watched Nina grow flustered.
“Jesus Christ, I’m getting all the compliments today! First I was a Tesco Finest girlfriend, now I’m a sexy butler. You know how to treat a lady, Neens,” Monet teased, pulling her girlfriend in and smothering her with kisses on the cheek.
“Ugh, get that couple shit outta here,” Vanessa yelled from the other sofa, throwing a leftover crisp at them. Monet instantly snapped back.
“Uh, like you can talk, Vanj.”
“What the shit hell is that meant to mean?” Vanessa laughed, amused.
Akeria grew outraged as she turned around to face Vanessa, her long, straight hair swinging wildly as she flipped it over her shoulder. “NEED we remind you what you sent to the group chat last week?!”
Silky began yelling, mirroring the cries of woe and dismay that were circling through Brooke’s brain at being reminded that Monique was still very much in the picture. “NO we do NOT need reminded! I can’t go through that again, dear Jesus God…”
“Fuck babygirl, I need that mouth on me-” Akeria began reading dramatically from her screen, the girls cringing and laughing and every word feeling like a kick to Brooke’s gut as Vanessa, face bright red, wrestled with Akeria to get the phone out of her hands. “-I’m touching myself but you know it’s not the same- aw, V! Give it back!”
“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ phone, Akeria Chanel Davenport, I swear,” Vanessa chided her furiously, holding the phone out of her reach then relenting, giving it back to her. Silky fanned herself dramatically, making the others laugh. As Brooke did her best fake laugh and joined in, she tried not to make eye contact with Vanessa’s embarrassed face.
“Aw, are we talking about the unfortunate dirty text incident?” Plastique’s voice came from the hall, everyone laughing again as she sat down in the armchair beside the fire. “Seriously, V, you should be a songwriter. I swear that whole thing could’ve been from a Kamille song or some shit-”
“Well, all sexts are a little bit cringey, aren’t they?” Nina offered kindly, attempting to cheer Vanjie up. In doing this, she only succeeded in earning herself an exasperated cry from Monet.
“V, do you wanna go out? I can’t stand this bitch any more, she just keeps insulting me.”
As everyone howled with laughter and Nina frantically smothered her girlfriend in kisses trying to get her back onside, Brooke sneaked a look at Vanessa. She was laughing, but her face was still a little red. Christ, she looked so cute. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
“Speaking of sex, I’m assuming Yvie and Scarlet went off to bang?” Plastique shrugged, everyone finally realising who was missing.
“Oh, fuck this! Save that shit for later!” Silky protested, Akeria laughing and whacking her.
“Hey, let them be happy! It’s my birthday so I’m sayin’ if they want to fuck, let ‘em. In the meantime I have an empty wine bottle and a room full of girls with secrets that need spilled,” Akeria announced. Plastique clapped excitedly, Silky cheered and Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“For Christ’s sake, Kiki, do we not already know all there is to know about each other?” she complained. Interesting. So Vanessa didn’t want to play truth or dare, a game she was usually always down for.
“Excuse the fuck outta me, we played that stupid tuna game earlier!”
“Sardines,” Brooke deadpanned, earning herself a laugh from the room.
“It was some type of fish, I got that much right.”
“How are you through a whole bottle of wine already?” Silky asked, impressed.
“Can I live? It’s my birthday! Now will you hoes stop pissing in my cereal and let’s play!” Akeria implored, setting the wine bottle down against the red carpet and spinning it so violently Brooke worried that it would smash on the marble grate. It slowed, turning round and round and finally resting right back at where Akeria leant down from the sofa. She let out a giggle. “Oops. Guess it’s me.”
“Keeks, truth or dare!” Plastique asked excitedly. Akeria tilted her head, deep in thought.
“Hmm. I ain’t drunk enough for dares yet, so let’s go truth.”
There was a beat of silence as everyone racked their brains to think of something. Monet was first with an idea.
“Fuck, marry, kill: Silk, Vanj or…uh…”
“Asia,” Vanessa said simply, sipping some coke and spirit concoction through a straw as Silky let out a screech. Brooke was confused. She met her eyes with Nina’s, who looked equally baffled.
“Wait, who’s Asia?” Nina asked. Akeria, to her credit, looked composed. To be fair, Brooke had hardly ever seen her look anything but.
“She’s a friend from my course. We did a paired project together an’ she came over to the flat to work on it the other week,” Vanessa shrugged. “Her an’ Kiki seemed to hit it off.”
“I don’t have a fuckin’ crush on the girl, Jesus. Don’t make it weird,” Akeria rolled her eyes, blinking slowly. If Brooke squinted she might’ve spotted a flush to Akeria’s face, but perhaps that came from the glow of the fire.
Monet muttered under her breath to Brooke and Nina as the three flatmates bickered away. “Is Akeria gay?”
Brooke blew out a bunch of air. “Fuck, I don’t even know who’s what anymore.”
“She’s never classed herself as straight,” Nina elaborated cautiously. “She talks about getting dicked down by guys a lot. Then again, it’s really only Silky that does that and Keeks just joins in.”
“Silk and Vanj know something we don’t,” Brooke reasoned, watching as the two girls laughed and Akeria sat, poised and smirking at them indulgently as if they were kids.
“Right, enough! ‘Keria, fuck marry kill: Vanjie, Silk or Asia, then,” Monet shrugged, sipping her mojito.
Akeria flipped some hair over her shoulder and tilted her head to the sky thoughtfully. “I honestly can’t decide who I’d rather kill, Silk or Vanj.”
“Oh, so you’re gonna fuck or marry Asia, correct?” Vanessa quipped, a little fire igniting in Brooke’s heart as she watched a wicked smile spread across her scheming face.
“No, I don’t know her well enough to have any strong feelings towards her either way. You and Silk, however…” Akeria raised her eyebrows long-sufferingly, coaxing a laugh out of the other girls. “Uhh, right, marry Asia, or whatever. Kill Silky.”
“Bitch! I’ll kill you for real,” Silky objected, pummeling Akeria’s arm with a cushion.
“Fuck Vanj because she likes girls anyway and if she’s going down on me it means she’s not talking with that fuckin’ gritter-truck voice of hers,” Akeria shrugged as she concluded, the room cheering and Vanessa doing a little celebratory bow. As she flipped her head up she caught Brooke’s eye, giving her a little wink. Brooke crossed her legs and tried not to think about Vanessa going down on anyone. Least of all her.
“Aight!” Akeria said, indicating to everyone that her turn was well and truly over. “We move.”
The bottle was spun once more, Brooke taking a long drink out of her bottle and draining it. She needed to be tipsier than this. Everyone else seemed a little more drunk than she was, apart from Vanessa who she noted was sipping her drink sparingly. Brooke shook her head a little, trying to stop bringing her focus to Vanessa every five minutes. She’d taken her heels off and tucked her legs up underneath her on the sofa, and her thighs looked good for it.
“Plastique, truth or dare!”
Plastique tucked her hair behind her ears. “Uhh, dare.”
Brooke knew what to do for this one. Plastique had taken Ariel on a couple of dates, but the girls were emotionally stunted and neither of them had properly articulated their feelings to the other yet. “Call Ariel and tell her how you feel about her. Properly.”
As the other girls “oooh"ed in appreciation, Plastique fixed Brooke with an unimpressed glare. "I’m not doing that.”
“Pussy,” Brooke shrugged, sipping her other beer. Vanessa let out a laugh from the other side of the room.
“Brooke Lynn’s telling someone else they’re a pussy for not being open about their feelings? Are we in the correct universe?"
As the other girls gave a laugh that was only the slightest bit uncomfortable, Brooke rolled her eyes. "Okay, well at the very least send her a heartfelt text.”
“Why are you pushing this so much, ma?” Plastique pouted as she relented and reached for her phone.
“Because I’m bored of sitting in lectures hearing you moan about how you can’t tell her how you feel because it would make it weird or how you don’t want to come across too intense!"
"We all had to listen to you pine after Vanjie for two and a half years but we never forced you into admitting anything,” Plastique shrugged, the room erupting into shrieks. Brooke gave a choke of a laugh, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her. She knew her face was bright red without having to look in a mirror and, as much as her brain was imploring her not to, she found her eyes darting quickly to Vanessa to catch a glimpse of her face.
Calm, smiling tight-lipped and smug. As if she’d won something.
“No, but you did start a sweepstake about us so get off the high horse, thanks!” Brooke sing-songed back, the slight hint of irritation to her voice letting Plastique know she was to drop it. Us. The word felt weird in Brooke’s mouth, it hadn’t been used in so long. Two and a half years. Had she really liked Vanessa for that long before everything had happened between them? Brooke had actually thrown away two and a half years of feelings for the sake of one feeling of indecision, a feeling that maybe they shouldn’t have been a they any more?
For Christ’s sake don’t look at Vanessa.
“Fine. I’ve put tonight’s really fun but I miss you, I always miss you when you’re not with me, hope you know how much I care about you. That heartfelt enough for you bitches?” Plastique muttered, embarrassed. Nina let out an “aaw”, Akeria made a sick noise.
“Acceptable,” Brooke shrugged, sipping on her beer again. Suddenly, a cheer went up from Akeria, Vanessa and Silky who could see who was coming through the living room door first. Yvie and Scarlet were walking close, holding a glass of red wine each and wearing matching poker faces.
“Oh, here they are! Nice of you to finally join us!” Nina cheered, Scarlet giving a small smile and smoothing her dress down, sitting beside Yvie on the last remaining couch.
“All the best people are fashionably late!” she shrugged. Yvie gave a snort and swept some hair over her shoulder to cover her neck. Brooke saw the action and jumped on it.
“Nice neckwear.”
Yvie turned only slightly red. “Thanks. Gucci.”
“Hear that? Yvie’s girlfriend is Gucci. Not Tesco Finest. Gucci,” Monet nudged Nina, setting another laugh off amongst the girls.
“We’re playing truth or dare,” Brooke explained to the two girls, as Plastique gave the glass bottle a bit of a pathetic spin.
“Vanjie!”
Vanessa shook her head. “Nah that spin was shit, it don’t count.”
“Like hell it don’t! Truth or dare, bitch?” Silky all but interrogated her. Vanessa thought about it for a moment, then decided.
“Truth.”
Brooke’ heart hammered in her chest. She hoped to God they wouldn’t ask Vanessa anything about her, anything about them.
“What’s going on with you and Monique, Vanjie?” Monet asked dramatically, Akeria giving a cry of delight and thumping her hands against her thighs.
Great.
As the room broke out into eager laughter, Vanessa just smiled.
“Well, Monique and I are good friends, and…we get on well. We both been, y'know, unlucky in love a lil’, so…” Vanessa trailed off, the room giving little chokes of anticipation and Brooke’s stomach twisting. “…if it’s one in the morning and one of us is maybe still up…y'know…”
Monet gave a tiny squeal through her teeth. Brooke wanted to wedge herself in between the sofa cushions and not emerge again til May of next year.
“Y'know, Monique’s very confident, very sure of herself, an’ that's…y'know, it’s attractive…” Vanessa trailed off, running her tongue over her teeth. Brooke knew that face, remembered the time when that face used to get directed at her before they’d fall into bed together, frantic kisses planted along collarbones and clothes discarded over the uneven floorboards of Vanessa’s room.
“But what’s actually going on? You’ve said so much but not actually said anything,” Yvie let out an unimpressed laugh. Vanessa composed herself and sat up straight, taking a rare sip of her drink.
“Well, we get on well. She’s a good person. And we’re friends,” Vanessa smiled coyly, causing the girls to laugh uproariously.
“Okay, okay, we all see it! We all get it!” Monet laughed, the knife twisting in Brooke’s stomach. Could it have been more obvious that they were obviously having each other in every type of position imaginable with any chance they got, or was it just Brooke being paranoid? She thought back to what Monet had said in the car earlier and concluded that, occasional hits of the bong aside, she was not being paranoid by any stretch of the imagination.
The game rolled along. Nina was made to do something vague and embarrassing with Monet that Brooke forgot quickly (or perhaps blocked out), Scarlet was forced to admit (rather proudly, Brooke thought) that her and Yvie had quickly fucked upstairs in the time they’d been away, and a few other of the girls did a couple of bland truths. As much as the bottle spun and spun, it never seemed to point Brooke’s way. Brooke was glad. She didn’t want to admit or say anything, and she also didn’t want to do anything remotely risky. However, when the bottle landed on Vanessa a second time, Brooke began to reconsider her thought process.
“Dare,” Vanessa smiled, a glint of danger in her eye flashing quickly as she darted her eyes quickly to Brooke.
Brooke tried not to look at Nina as she spoke. “Vanjie. Kiss the hottest girl in the room.”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Plastique whispered quietly. It seemed as if the whole room held its breath. Brooke didn’t know if she was grateful to Nina for the setup or whether she wanted to descend into the earth’s core. She knew Vanessa had answered this question before with this group of girls, she knew that Vanessa thought the answer was her. But that was before everything had changed. Brooke felt her pulse race as Vanessa looked to the ceiling, deep in thought.
Slowly, she turned her gaze to Yvie and Scarlet.
“Yvie,” she began, a small sinking feeling lodging itself in Brooke’s chest. “Can I kiss your girlfriend?”
Yvie smiled at Scarlet proudly, happy for the compliment. “Dare’s a dare. Bring her back.”
“Scarlet, can I get a lil’ smooch?” Vanessa laughed, Scarlet laughing back and motioning for her to sit beside them on the sofa.
“C'mere, friend,” she laughed easily, Vanessa crossing the room and joining them. Brooke remembered when Vanessa had kissed Scarlet before- in the nightclub, before they were together and before Yvie and Scarlet were together. She remembered how it made her feel- a little irritated and sad all in one. Looking back, she realised it was plain and simple jealousy, and she knew her feelings weren’t going to change this time.
Quickly, Vanessa leaned in and met Scarlet’s lips, kissing her gently but slowly, her hand resting on Scarlet’s hip easily. It could only have been about three seconds long, but each one seemed to tick by agonisingly slowly, and Brooke hoped she wasn’t showing any of her fucked-up emotions on her face. As the two girls pulled away and the others whooped and whistled, Scarlet made a face.
“Bitch, all I tasted there was pepperoni. That was the least sexy kiss I’ve ever had.”
“You loved it, hoe!” Vanessa laughed, retreating back to her seat. Desperate to look at anything but Vanessa’s face, Brooke watched Yvie and Scarlet. Yvie had the satisfied grin of a mafia mob boss as Scarlet whispered something in her ear, then smiled seductively, kissing her once, twice, three times, red lipstick meeting purple.
“Well if I wasn’t bi before, I sure as hell am now,” Plastique fanned herself.
“We are the cornerstone of Plastique’s sexual identity. That’s a fucking compliment!” Scarlet cheered, Yvie laughing and wrapping her arms around her.
“Nah, you and Yvie are my parents. The Mums of the group,” Plastique explained.
“Fuck off, we’re not the Mums!” Yvie laughed, outraged. “Nina and Monet are literally right there!”
“Hey! That’s not fair!” Nina cried, outraged at the perceived injustice.
“Yeah, don’t lump me in with this dork!” Monet yelled, laughing with the other girls as Nina swatted her on the arm.
“Right! Spin, Vanj,” Yvie ordered, the girl spinning the bottle round obediently. Brooke watched as the top of the bottle whizzed by her once, twice, three times, past Yvie, Scarlet, the Antigua Road girls, slowed down as it reached Plastique, edged past Monet and Nina and then came to rest on Brooke.
“All RIGHT! About time this bitch spilt some tea,” Silky clapped in delight.
“Brooke,” Akeria said with the threat level of an MI5 employee. “Truth or dare?”
Brooke paused. Her go-to was usually a truth, however there was no way she was going for that this time, not while she was still a concrete mixer of feelings for Vanessa and not while there was a room full of people wanting to know exactly what was going on with them. She shrugged. “Dare.”
“Okay-” Akeria tailed off, making to stop and think. A practically evil smile spread across her face as realisation dawned on her. “Same dare. Kiss the hottest person in the room. Ten seconds.”
Silky let out a scream, growing so excitable on the sofa that Vanessa was almost sent through the ceiling. Scarlet whispered something to Yvie on the sofa, both of the girls looking at Brooke intently. Plastique shouted over something to Akeria that Brooke couldn’t hear. All she could focus on was how Vanessa had grabbed Silky and was laughing, but somewhat nervously. Her face had gone bright red. Brooke bit her lip. She thought back to their flirting in the cupboard earlier, how they were almost back to square one again, the weird bid Vanessa had made to make Brooke jealous. She could always kiss Yvie or Nina, take the easy way out. But the more she looked at Vanessa, the more drawn she became to her until before she knew what she was doing, Brooke had stood up from her place on the carpet and taken one, two, three steps to sit on the couch and look Vanessa in the eyes.
Brooke could hear everyone in the room screaming, and she knew Silky had run out of the room shouting incoherently, but all she seemed to hear was her blood roaring in her ears as Vanessa leaned in. Before she knew it, Brooke’s hand was resting on Vanessa’s bare thigh and they were kissing each other, slow and deep and lazy and in a way that Brooke never wanted to end. She felt Vanessa’s tongue licking at hers gently and immediately felt a throb of heat between her legs as she remembered 3ams spent between her sheets and Vanessa’s head buried between her thighs.
Christ, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea-
“ZERO! And y’all can officially cut that shit out,” Brooke suddenly felt herself being wrenched away from Vanessa, Akeria’s voice cutting through her hazy thoughts and bringing her back down to earth with a bump.
“Well, I feel like on that note,” Monet clapped her hands together decisively. “I’m away out to drink in the hot tub. Anyone else?”
One by one the girls agreed, dashing out of the room excitedly, and it was obvious to Brooke that everyone would be talking about what had just happened. Vanessa had run off quickly, her hand in Silky’s as the two dashed upstairs to get their swimwear on. The only girl that was left in the room as Brooke made to do the same was Akeria. She frowned at Brooke as they both left the room, a warning in her eyes which sent a chill down Brooke’s spine. Trying to ignore it, Brooke dashed upstairs, changed into her pink bikini and then ran outside to join the others. They wouldn’t talk about her and Vanessa’s kiss if she was there, so the less time she was away the better. Brooke grabbed a third beer from the fridge on her way out to the garden, and as she stepped outside she noticed how the moon already hung huge and bright in the sky, how the grass already had a shine of cold wet on it, and how everything looked almost a little bit magic. Joining the others and sitting between Yvie and Plastique, she tried to ignore Vanessa sitting opposite her in a black bikini that looked equally sinful as the outfit she’d been wearing before. Luckily the rest of the girls had no further desire to play drinking games, and talk instead turned to movies. Brooke didn’t join in. She couldn’t- too much was swirling around her mind, namely how good the kiss had felt. Scarlet had probably lied to make Yvie laugh- Vanessa had tasted like sugary coke, and the all too familiar scent of her perfume was still inexplicably clinging to Brooke. It had been weird to kiss after months of no contact at all. It had been a bad decision. Brooke had done yet another wrong thing.
So why did it feel somehow correct?
“Right!” Akeria said after a while, almost toppling over as she stood up. “I think I’m gettin’ a touch of the hypothermias. Who’s comin’ inside to watch Sister Act?”
“Bitch! That’s like, my favourite movie. Hell yes,” Monet sprang up, knocking Nina off her lap and into the middle of the hot tub. The girls erupted in a laugh, Brooke almost dropping her beer into the water. One by one, they all filed out of the water. Brooke was the last one left. Admittedly she didn’t want to leave- she was now tipsy enough to not feel the cold, and she could have lain back and stared at the white light of the full moon in the inky sky forever. Just as she was about to follow the others, she noticed that the second-to-last girl out of the hot tub was Vanessa. Brooke swallowed thickly, trying her best not to stare at how the small droplets of water clung to her thick thighs or how her tiny bikini barely covered her firm ass, or how her slick, wet hair cascaded down her back. Almost as if she could read Brooke’s mind, Vanessa slowly, tortuously turned around. She had a little wicked smile on her face, the kind she always used to wear when she flirted with Brooke. It made Brooke cross her legs and squeeze her thighs together.
“You got a good enough view from there?” she asked, playfulness coating her words as she spread both her arms out to lean against the back of the hot tub.
This was bad. This was not good. Brooke couldn’t flirt back. It would only lead to another really horrendous, catastrophic decision. Her mind was hot-wiring, and to her dismay she couldn’t come up with any form of quick-witted comeback. Noticing how long it was taking her to reply, Vanessa gave a throaty laugh.
“Hmm. I’ll take that as a yes, then,” she purred, crossing the water and sitting down close next to Brooke. Brooke tried her best not to choke as she took a sip from the bottle in her hand.
“Thought you were going to watch Sister Act?” she asked, trying to sound casual but cringing at how nervous she sounded as the words left her mouth. Her blood pressure dialled up a notch as Vanessa laced her fingers together, placed her hands on Brooke’s bare shoulder, then rested her head against her fingers.
“I don’t know. Think I’d rather see what’s so special about this view you love so much,” Vanessa murmured softly, Brooke not missing the way she rushed out the word ‘love’ as if to distil any awkwardness. She didn’t need to worry, though, because right now all Brooke could focus on was how good Vanessa looked in that black bikini, and how her red lipstick still clung to her plump lips as if it had just been applied, and her beautiful dark gaze from under her fake lashes.
“Hmm. It’s a pretty good view. Pretty beautiful,” Brooke found herself whispering, eliciting a sparkle from Vanessa’s eyes. Fuck. Shit. She shouldn’t have said that, it just seemed to have happened, but with Vanessa sitting pressed up so close to her how else could she have possibly reacted? There was a small silence in which Vanessa gave a small giggle, looking down at the constantly popping bubbles. The jet stream pummeled Brooke’s back to bits.
“What’s funny?” she smiled cautiously. Vanessa looked at her, something nostalgic on her face.
“Your pickup lines are still cringey as fuck,” she smirked, Brooke rolling her eyes a little. She had to steer this conversation back to normality. Whatever the fuck normality was as far as her and Vanessa were concerned.
“That wasn’t a pickup line. If I was trying to pick you up, you’d know about it.”
“Oh, I know about it, baby. Don’ worry,” Vanessa hit back instantly, Brooke taking the pet name like a fatal shot. Brooke knew that Vanessa knew what that word did to her in the right context with the right tone. Fuck. Bad idea, bad idea. She was determined not to lose whatever game this was. She would not do anything stupid. She would not ruin the tiny, small beginnings of this foundation of their friendship that they were gradually re-building. She would stand up and go inside and watch Whoopi fucking Goldberg dance about in a fucking habit and all would be right with the world again.
“Two and a half years, huh? You had it bad, bitch, I never knew I had that kind of effect on you,” Vanessa laughed suddenly, Brooke trying not to blush as she remembered Plastique’s words from earlier.
“Not that you’re letting it go to your head,” Brooke shrugged, taking a sip.
Vanessa giggled again. Brooke wished she wouldn’t. “Never.”
“Good compliment for you, I guess.”
“Better than beaud,” Vanessa smirked, snorting a laugh as Brooke tipped her head back and cringed. As she quietly stopped laughing, Vanessa shrugged lightly. “An’ I mean, nice to know I’m the hottest girl in the room too.”
Brooke let out a small sigh at having to confront her decision. “I mean just because we’re not dating any more doesn’t mean it’s not objectively true. By Western beauty standards you probably are the hottest girl in the room.”
Vanessa laughed again. “Western beauty standards, my God. I’m not even white, you dumb bitch.”
“Yeah, but…you’ve got this gorgeous skin, and all your shiny hair. And your eyes that go all twinkly when you’re happy,” Brooke explained. Where was all this coming from? “And you have perfect white teeth, and the best smile. I feel like you light up the whole room when you laugh.”
Brooke’s heart gave a twinge as Vanessa’s face broke out into a smile, tilting her face to the side a little inquisitively. Brooke gave a little cough, aware of all the compliments she’d given her. “And you have a really good figure as well, so, yeah.”
“Oh, obviously. Well, we all know how much you like that,” Vanessa smirked cheekily, Brooke suddenly snapping her neck round to face her properly.
“What?”
“Liked that. Like, liked. Whatever. We’re friends now, we can laugh about it,” Vanessa shrugged, the words coming out of her mouth confirming their status at once relieving Brooke and putting her on edge. They were back to being friends. This was what Brooke wanted, right? Vanessa still had the little cheeky grin on her face as she spoke again. “Friends who still kiss each other, apparently.”
“Well, you kissed Scarlet,” Brooke said, trying to make it as nonchalant as possible. Judging by Vanessa’s smug reaction, she hadn’t succeeded.
“You seem pressed.”
“Not pressed! Just saying,” Brooke tried to protest gently but felt she came on way too heavy.
“Mhm. There’s just one problem about all this, though…” Vanessa murmured, her tone charged with something that immediately made the hairs on Brooke’s arm stand on end, giving her goosebumps.
And then, with one fluid movement, Vanessa moved to straddle her.
Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.
Brooke’s heart almost flatlined as Vanessa spoke, her face still wearing the tiniest cocky smile that Brooke so badly wanted to kiss off of her. “It’s kinda hard to try an’ be friends with you when I know what you look like with no clothes on.”
Brooke tried her best to keep her voice level. “Well, it’s also kind of hard to try and be friends with you when you’re flirting with me.”
“It’s also hard to be friends with you when I know what your kinks are…” Vanessa brought her arms around Brooke’s neck and barely concealed a smile as she bucked her hips ever so slightly. “…Mami.”
Brooke felt the tiniest hiss escape her lips, glad it wasn’t the fuck that had immediately popped into her head.
“It’s kind of hard to be friends with you when you’re riding my thigh…or when you’re coming on to me like this,” Brooke replied, keeping one hand firmly on the side of the hot tub and the other wrapped around the glass bottle in her hand so tight she thought it would smash.
“Coming on to you?” Vanessa suddenly tipped her head back and laughed, Brooke immediately realising what she’d said. “That can be arranged, you want face, tongue or fingers?”
“Fuck’s sake, Vanessa,” Brooke laughed softly, letting one of her hands drop down under the water and rest against Vanessa’s thigh. As Brooke’s thumb rubbed at her skin softly, she tried to reason with herself. Just because she was stroking Vanessa’s skin, and had her on top of her, and was basically talking dirty to her, didn’t mean that anything was actually going to happen.
“I know you miss me, Brooke,” Vanessa said, her tone matter-of-fact as she straightened up a little in Brooke’s lap, Brooke eyeing the way her breasts were pushed up.
Brooke had to think carefully about her response. She knew she’d hurt Vanessa, so she had to keep things light. “I mean, it kind of looks like you miss me, baby.”
Oh fuck, that pet name was a mistake. Vanessa’s smile was sultry as she pushed one of her hands into Brooke’s hair. “Me? Nah, I’m just doin’ this because it’s fun. Monique’s treatin’ me very well.”
Jesus fucking Christ, Vanessa knew how to hit Brooke where it hurt. Brooke pursed her lips. She wanted to fight dirty, she would give as good as she got. “And that’s why you’re cheating on her?”
Vanessa burst out laughing. “Oh, bitch, please! Me and her aren’t exclusive! We ain’t even a thing! She vents to me about her ex, I vent to her about you, and then we fuck away our frustrations!”
A part of Brooke’s heart soared up into the black sky like a helium balloon. She didn’t think she’d shown her relief on her face until Vanessa gave a laugh. “So. You ain’t denied it.”
“Denied what?”
“That you miss me,” she shrugged, giving a little look down at Brooke’s hands on her thighs. Brooke couldn’t pinpoint when she’d brought the other one down under the water but apparently she had done. Her throat was dry as she considered her response. Before she could get there, Vanessa threw her mind into chaos as she brought her hands back behind her head, fidgeted for a moment, then suddenly threw her bikini top across the decking. As Brooke’s gaze flicked down to Vanessa’s full breasts, the other girl brought one finger up and tilted her chin up to face her. The heat between Brooke’s legs was unbearable, and she felt her paper-thin resolve rapidly melting away. Vanessa smirked. “You wanna kiss me so bad right now, don’t you? Like you kissed me earlier. You can’t even stay away.“
Vanessa seemed to edge closer to Brooke, although they were already so close that seemed an impossible feat. Brooke raised an eyebrow. “See, I feel like if Monique fucked you as good as you say she does, you wouldn’t be in my lap right now.”
Vanessa blinked slowly, mockingly. “Oh, baby. You don’t want to know the things I let her do to me.”
Brooke bristled. The tension between them and Vanessa’s teasing was getting her riled. “You’re right, I don’t.”
“Aww. You jealous, baby?” Vanessa pouted. This was going to drive Brooke insane. Her mind constantly swung between this being a bad idea and a good idea, and she had no idea which it would settle on.
Brooke locked eyes with Vanessa, the other girl’s gaze a challenge. “No.”
“You sure? You seemed jealous when I kissed Scarlet earlier, I saw your face.”
“I don’t get jealous,” Brooke repeated, holding her gaze with Vanessa. Their faces weren’t too close but their bodies were, and Brooke felt as if she was a ticking time bomb.
“So you ain’t jealous of Monique?” Vanessa murmured inquisitively. Brooke shook her head, now unable to tear her gaze away from her lips which had felt so perfect against her own earlier. “You ain’t jealous of the fact she gets to ride my face and get my pretty lil’ tongue working her clit? You ain’t jealous of the fact that it’s her name I’m crying out when I cum on her fingers? You ain’t-”
Frustrated, tense, and out of willpower, Brooke let out a low growl as she finally brought her hands up to Vanessa’s jaw and crashed their lips together, kissing her wildly and deeply and running her hands over every inch of Vanessa’s skin she was able to touch. She didn’t even care that she’d proven Vanessa right, because she had missed this, missed her, missed the way they just seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and dear sweet fucking Jesus she’d been an idiot to give up this sex. Brooke whined needily as she felt Vanessa pull away, the other girl laughing against her lips.
“You don’t kiss like a girl who ain’t jealous,” Vanessa tutted, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Or one that don’t miss me.”
Brooke ran her hands up and down her back and pouted. “Shut up.”
“Hmm. That ain’t no way to talk to me if you’re planning on getting what you want, lil’ brat,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, bringing one of her hands down to rub at Brooke’s hipbone. Brooke let out a whimper and bucked her hips. She needed Vanessa so badly, and her words were only making things worse. Or better.
“Fuck, please, Vanessa, shit,” Brooke hissed, not caring about how pathetic and needy she looked now as she brought one of her hands up and rubbed a thumb over one of Vanessa’s nipples. Brooke felt her clit throb as Vanessa gave a little hum of delight at the contact. Her fingers had only been there for a second before Vanessa grabbed her wrist and held it down under the water, the sudden force causing Brooke’s eyes to grow wide.
“You broke my fuckin’ heart an’ now you really think I’m gonna make it that easy for you?” she barked a laugh, a guilty twinge tugging at Brooke’s rapid heart. “Fuck that. I want to hear you beg me to fuck you. You’re gonna have to work for me, baby. Shit’s on my terms.”
“Fuck, Vanessa, I really don’t give a shit how desperate I sound,” Brooke sighed, the shock of the prospect of Vanessa changing her mind about all this lighting a fire in Brooke. “Please, please, please, please, baby, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything you want, just fucking touch me, please-”
Brooke cut herself off with her own moan as Vanessa ran a hand down her body and lightly pressed two fingers against her, rubbing gently and making Brooke want to sob.
“Good girl,” Vanessa purred, Brooke writhing underneath her and completely past the point of thinking about any of the consequences of any of this. “You miss me, don’t you?”
“Fuck, so much.”
“You been missin’ this?”
“Shit yes, so much.”
Vanessa’s eyes were dark as Brooke looked up at her. “Nobody’s gonna fuck you like me, are they?”
Brooke’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, thinking that at this point if Vanessa asked her to get married she probably would’ve booked the damn venue. “No, only you, baby, fuck.”
“Mm, such a good girl,” Vanessa smirked, Brooke’s clit giving a spasm as she thought now was really not the time to realise she had a praise kink. “I don’t know, though. You seemed pretty sure you wouldn’t miss me when you ended things.”
“I do miss you, 'Ness, I promise, I’m sorry, I’ll beg on my knees if you want me to, I don’t give a fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night…so fucking perfect, shit…"
"Mm…you would look so pretty on your knees,” Vanessa leaned in and murmured into Brooke’s ear, pressing the lightest little kiss to her neck and almost sending Brooke over the edge before anything had even happened yet.
“I’ll do whatever you want, baby, fuck, I want you to feel like you’re the most gorgeous fucking goddess in the world,” Brooke gasped as Vanessa brought her other hand down to touch herself, the sight of her working Brooke and herself into a frenzy the hottest thing she’d seen in months. Her mind short-circuited, and she struggled to know if anything she said made any sense. “Jesus Christ, Vanessa, please fuck me, I can’t take much more-"
Pride glinted in Vanessa’s eyes before she leaned in and kissed Brooke, hot and wet with her fingers still rubbing and teasing her through the material. Pulling away, she motioned to the decking around the hot tub. “Lie back then, baby.”
As Brooke almost drove her face into the decking in her haste to scramble out of the hot tub she ignored the little voice in the back of her head that told her everything about this was a bad idea, and instead focused on the one that screamed it was the best decision she’d made in months.s
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Bellarke + forehead kisses sfw pls
it’s been 10 months and i’m sorry so pls enjoy this 5k fluff fest as i grovel for forgiveness.
5 times bellamy kisses clarke’s forehead + 1 time he doesn’t
read on ao3
(i)
Earth, he’s beginning to realise, is a bitch of a planet.
Everything on it tries to kill them. Sure, they were taught that the earth is a sometimes dangerous place back in Earth Skills on the Ark, but there’s a difference between reading about unfavourable weather conditions and getting nailed in the head by a golf ball sized piece of hail. Or trying to avoid being eaten by animals. And plants. Because apparently even the goddamn plants have evolved to crave the taste of human flesh on this hellscape. Bellamy hates it. All of it.
“I think if we ration our tubers and limit meat to twice a week, we should be able to make it through the winter,” Clarke says, nibbling absentmindedly on a hangnail as she looks over their inventory list. “Assuming winter is fourteen weeks at most.”
“I wouldn’t want to assume anything if I were you,” Bellamy says darkly, thinking off all the ways the earth could once again screw them over.
They’re in his tent, looking over supply numbers as they try to hash out just what they might need to stay alive for this winter, their very first one on earth. They’ve been at it for hours, the sun long having set, and they’re forced to work by candlelight. Bellamy finds himself squinting at Clarke’s carefully made lists and calculations.
She sighs, rubbing at her neck. “I hate all of this uncertainty. All of our books on climate and weather patterns are from over a hundred years ago, and that’s before a nuclear armageddon happened.”
Clarke looks defeated for the first time since they’ve started all this and Bellamy, despite himself, feels sorry for her. They’re not friends, not really, but they are co leaders and he depends on her like no other. So to see her like this, head hung long and purple bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep, worries him.
She’s worn herself thin trying to take care of all their people, him too, but Bellamy is a bit more adept at hiding it than she is. Sure, he’s exhausted and anyone who cares to study his face for two seconds might see a hint of it shining through, but Clarke looks like someone has wrung her dry.
“How many hunting trips do you have scheduled between now and when you think we should close the gates?” he asks.
“three a week. Why?”
“If we bump it up to every other day we should be able to collect some more meat. Maybe start laying some more traps a bit further out,” he tells her, looking over their weathered map that’s spread across his table. “Also maybe go back to the bunk and check out its surroundings when we’re not high.”
She worries her lip, glancing back down at their notes. “Maybe. But then we’d have to rework the hunting groups so no one gets too burnt out.”
“I think they’ll be fine upping from once a week to twice a week, princess,” he says and she rolls her eyes at him.
“I’m just saying. If they’re tired, they’ll make more mistakes. And if they make more mistakes then that’s more work for me.”
“A little work won’t kill you, princess,” he teases and she kicks him, biting back a smile.
“You’re such a dick,” she says, but there’s no heat behind it and it’s quickly followed by a yawn that she tries and fails to muffle.
“Go get some rest Clarke,” he says, pressing his shoulder into hers. “I can handle remaking the groups by myself. You look like you’re about to keel over.”
“No, no, I’m fine,” she promises, even after she tries to smother another yawn. “I don’t want to leave you to do all the work on your own.”
Bellamy just rolls his eyes and let’s her stay because he’s long learnt that Clarke Griffin is stubborn. Sometimes he has to pick his battles and fighting with her about going to bed when they’re both tired is a battle he’d gladly let her win.
Of course, he’s ultimately proven right when, just half an hour later, she’s asleep, head pillowed on her bicep and mouth open a little bit as she snores softly.
It doesn’t take long to redo the groups and he was looking forward to collapsing in bed when all of this was over, but now he has Clarke to deal with. He could wake her up and send her off to her own tent, but he saw the bags under her eyes, he knows just how tired she is and he can’t find it in himself to wake her up, not when she’s looking all peaceful like that.
So instead Bellamy sighs and scoops her up in his arms and deposits her in his own bed because despite everything, he’s a good guy and chivalry’s not dead, not yet anyway.
It’s a testament to how exhausted she is that she doesn’t even grumble when he lifts her up. He pulls off her shoes and hesitates for a second before taking off her outer jacket, and then tucks her into his bed, brushing a quick kiss against her forehead as he goes.
He doesn’t realise what he did until he’s turned away, halfway through with getting undressed himself, when he freezes.
Back on the Ark, Octavia used to have a habit of falling asleep everywhere and Bellamy would be the one to pick her up and tuck her into his bed, always pressing a kiss to the centre of her forehead in goodnight. It was just a habit.
He glances over his shoulder at Clarke, who was still fast asleep and it makes him relax, just a little.
It’s late and he’s tired and he chalks it up to muscle memory. It doesn’t mean anything.
He keeps telling himself this as he settles on the hard packed dirt floor with nothing but a single blanket while Clarke hogs the bed up top.
It doesn’t mean anything.
-
(ii)
The day that the last of the snow thaws, they decide to have a party.
Or rather, it’s Monty and Jasper’s idea to have a party. He doesn’t know how, but they managed to brew an entirely new vat of moonshine during the winter and they were more than excited to introduce it to the crowds tonight. The prospect of new booze alone was enough to get almost the entire camp to agree with them and Bellamy and Clarke found themselves outnumbered.
“It’s a goddamn mutiny,” he grumbles as he watches them set up, hacking at firewood and making several trips to the river to get enough drinking water. There was even talk of a foraging group heading out to find whatever nuts and berries they could scrounge up and Clarke put a stop to that quickly, reminding them that all groups to leave the camp walls had to be approved by either her or Bellamy.
“I don’t know, maybe it might be fun,” she says, standing next to him at the door to the Dropship. “Everyone’s been cooped up indoors for months on end, this could be a little community boosting morale.”
He sniffs, not quite agreeing with her. “I hope you remember that when you have to deal with those drunk bastards injuring themselves later tonight.”
Of course, it would be just his luck that a few hours after saying that, he turns out to be one of those drunk bastards himself.
Bellamy’s not really a huge drinker.
He’d had a drink ever so often of course, because really, sometimes in order to survive this bitch of an earth you need a fucking drink, but he’s always considered himself a social drinker. Most of the time he’s sat with Clarke, nursing a cup of moonshine as they work out schedules or just talk about their days while she cleans the medbay or he checks all the guns. He’d even consider them to be friends now because of that if he was being honest.
Still, whether it was him and Clarke, or just shooting the shit with the boys around the fire, Bellamy usually limits himself to one, maybe two cups of Monty’s special brew and makes sure that he doesn’t have anything more than a slight buzz.
Today of course is another story.
He blames Monty’s moonshine for this.
The winter batch had tasted good. Too good. It was leagues better than all of the previous batches, smoother, and tasted vaguely like berries, and Bellamy found himself playing goddamn drinking games with the thing. Before he knew it he was at least five cups in and when he went to grab his knife to cut something in two, it slipped out of his grasp and he caught it by wrapping his fist around the blade, realising belatedly that that probably wasn’t the best idea.
“I cannot believe you sliced your palm open with your hunting knife,” Clarke huffs, bending over his palm to clean it.
“‘S an accident,” he mumbles, glaring at a spot on the wall, trying not to wince as she douses it with antiseptic.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“How come you’re not out there? Having fun?” he asks, squinting at her. All the alcohol is making his brain weird and his eyes go crisscross, the harsh fluorescent lighting of the dropship suddenly surrounding her like a halo.
Not a princess, his drunk addled brain thinks as he looks at her, an angel.
Bellamy’s too caught up with his thoughts that he realises that she’s remaining remarkably quiet as tends to his wound.
“Clarke?” he prompts, and she jumps, a flush appearing high on her cheeks.
“Oh! Uh, sorry, I zoned out for a sec there,” she says, not meeting his eye. “I don’t know… I guess I just wasn’t feeling up to it.”
Bellamy might be drunk, but he still knows how to spot a lie.
“Really.”
“Mhmm.”
“You sure you don’t wanna try that again? Make it a little more believable this time?”
Clarke sighs, grabbing the bandages from a nearby shelf. “Look, Bellamy, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
He’s not sure he wants to drop it, not when something is very clearly bothering her, but then she looks up at him with those large pleading eyes and all his resolve just crumbles away, and he finds himself bending to her will.
“Fine,” he sighs, holding his palm steady so she could wrap the bandages around it. “But you know that you can talk to me, right? About anything?”
It gets a small smile out of her. “Yeah, Bell, I know,” she says, tying off the end. “There. Good to go.”
He jumps off the stool, landing toe to toe with her, wobbling a bit as he goes. He doesn’t pay attention to the way her breath catches when he suddenly invades her space, too busy frowning at the way his limbs don’t seem to want to cooperate.
When his arms finally start back listening to him, Bellamy cups the back of her head and drops a sloppy kiss to her forehead.
“Thanks, princess,” he says when he pulls back, leaving her shell shocked and standing in the middle of the med bay.
By the time his brain realises what has just happened, he’s already halfway across the campground, almost near to the large bonfire that they have going. He glances back in the direction of the dropship and he sees her standing at the entrance, looking out at the crowd, and if Bellamy squints, he could just make out the pretty blush that stains her cheeks, the one that’s not caused by the cold.
-
(iii)
Two years on the ground and death never gets easier.
He gets the news from Monty who hears it from Harper and he drops everything to go over to Clarke’s tent and check up on her.
It’s dark inside and he almost misses her, nothing but a shapeless lump underneath all the blankets, but then she sniffles and his heartbreaks.
“Hey princess,” he says sadly as he toes off his boots, crawling into bed with her. Clarke rolls into him almost immediately, a choked sob escaping past her lips as she buries her face in the crook of his neck and he drops a kiss on her temple. “I had what happened with Jack and Elise. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Jack and Elise weren’t the first couple to get pregnant on the ground, but they were the first complicated pregnancy that Clarke had to deal with, everything from preeclampsia to placental abruption.
“I couldn’t do anything,” she sniffs, curling closer to him. “The baby… she was too early. Her lungs weren’t fully developed and she couldn’t breath and I–”
Bellamy just holds her as she starts to cry again, his face pressed to the crown of her head as he whispered unheard platitudes.
It’s times like this he feels so helpless with Clarke, because nothing that he could say or do would reverse the trauma she had to go through. And it hurts that all he’s able to do for her is this, just holding her while she breaks down, but he wouldn’t be anywhere else.
“Jack begged me to keep going,” she says after some time, when she calms down a little. “He told me to keep going but there wasn’t anything that I could do. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to look at them after this.”
“Clarke,” he murmurs, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. “It’s not your fault. You can’t save everyone.”
“I know,” she sighs, his t-shirt clutched in her clenched fist. “It just– It sucks you know? To be useless like that.”
“You’re not useless.”
“I feel useless.”
“Clarke Griffin, you are one of the bravest, smartest, most compassionate people I know,” he tells her. “You helped me run a camp full of teenagers, hell, you still help me try and build us a fucking society out of nothing except some sticks and mud. You run a medbay despite having almost no formal training and yet almost all of us are still alive.”
She sniffs again and he looks her directly in the eye as he says, “You’re an amazing woman, Clarke Griffin, and don’t you forget it.”
Even in the dark he can see the way her skin pinks at the compliment and she drops her gaze even as she cuddles closer to him.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Anytime.”
The hand curled around his t-shirt on his chest tightens a little and she says, “Will you stay with me?”
He drops a quick kiss to her forehead. “For as long as you want me.”
-
(iv)
Bellamy’s not sure when the forehead kisses become a normal thing between them, but he’s not questioning it.
It’s comforting he thinks, to have someone like that in your life.Bellamy kisses her forehead when she does things like bring him lunch to share in the guard quarters or get him a new book whenever they find a new bunker.
She’s started kissing his cheek too, whenever she feels like it. When he comes back from a two day long hunting trip, when he finds those daisies she likes growing by the river bank so he brings her back a cluster, when it’s late and they’re working on the layout of their little community.
The third winter they spend on the ground brings a snowstorm, damaging some tents, including Clarke’s, so she moves in with Bellamy.
It’s only logical really.
They spend most of their free time together anyway, and Clarke doesn’t even ask, just brings a box of her stuff over to his tent and tells him that she’s staying here now.
They’ve always taken care of each other but now, living together like this, it takes on a new layer of intimacy.
They share his bed so he makes sure that there are hot stones underneath it at night to keep them warm. Clarke does his laundry with hers and makes sure to always bring back a clean bucket of river water for them to sponge off with. He darns all the holes in her socks and she makes sure to bring his dinner to the tent if he has a late shift.
Bellamy gets to wake up with Clarke in the morning and go to bed with her at night. She gets to see his body, to catalogue all of his scars– most of which she stitched up– and he’s the one she gives her first ever tattoo to when they’re both a little drunk and giggly one night.
He presses a kiss to her forehead every morning before she leaves and if he’s there when she comes home, she greets him with a peck on the cheek.
Bellamy doesn’t really know when he fell in love with Clarke Griffin. It wasn’t immediate or some sort of life changing experience, instead it was a gentle and slow descent over early morning tea and late night disputes over scheduling. It was the slow building of a puzzle, pieces falling into place at their own speed and when it was done, it left a masterpiece behind.
He doesn’t know when it happened, but he knows that it was when they started living together that he realised. That the sudden surge of warmth and affection in his chest whenever he saw her was because of that.
Clarke loves him too, he thinks. He can tell she does by the way she traces his freckles in the mornings, outlining a new picture everyday. She loves him when she steals extra strawberries from the kitchens because she knows those are his favourite fruit. She loves him when she packs his hunting bag, slipping in an extra packet of rations and a first aid kit because he always forgets to look out for himself.
He loves Clarke and Clarke loves him, and even though they haven’t said it, actions speak louder than words, and they’re more than content to keep living just like that.
And then, one morning when he leans in to give her her customary forehead kiss for the day, she lifts her head at the exact same time and he ends up kissing her on the mouth.
It’s brief and chaste and dry, and they both freeze when they realise what’s happened, but Bellamy isn’t scared and neither is Clarke.
Instead, she smiles at him, big and toothy, and loops an arm around his neck to kiss him properly and Bellamy lets her, one hand cupping her jaw and the other on her waist.
He lets her kiss him and lets himself kiss back because, after years of fighting on the ground, all the pain and sorrow and hurt that came with it, they’ve earned this one right to be selfish, to do something that makes them happy without worrying about anyone else.
And Clarke Griffin makes him pretty damn happy.
-
(v)
Clarke has been acting weird lately.
Bellamy doesn’t notice it right away, but it steadily creeps up on him, the way she seems so tired lately, not eating much and shying away from his touch.
They’ve been together for just over a year now and he was building them a cabin, finally. They were still one of the few who were living in tents which, honestly he didn’t mind. At first other things needed building, like a proper medbay and kitchen area, and as a group of kids who weren’t skilled in construction, it took them almost a year to get that done. Once they figured it out they started building cabins and little cottages, each one taking somewhere between a month to two months to complete, depending on the weather and the availability of resources.
Bellamy’s never really been in a rush to get a cabin. In his mind there were other people who deserved it more, like those with kids and babies. But, after being on the ground for about four years now and most of their population settled quietly, he figures it’s time to build his own.
Clarke was ecstatic of course, drawing out several blueprints and floor plans for him to follow and he couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm to help build a place to call their own.
Now though she seems more like a ghost than anything else, offering up no comments or suggestions about where to put the windows and how big she wants the kitchen.
“You okay?” Bellamy asks one day while he’s working on the roof. She’s supposed to be passing him nails but more than once already he’s had to call her name several times just to get her attention. “You seem off.”
“Huh? Oh no, I’m fine,” she waves him off with a careful smile. “Just feeling a little bit under the weather. Probably something I ate.”
Bellamy bites his tongue to keep from reminding her that they share almost all their meals together and if something affected her, it would have probably affected him too.
But he lets her keep her secrets, knowing the more he pushed, the more she would clam up, leading to an argument between them.
So instead he just shrugs and says, “Hand me that pair of pliers,” dropping the subject.
Of course, he ends up picking it back up again merely a week later when he shows up for lunch at the medbay and Harper tells him that Clarke was sent home early because she threw up.
“Clarke what the fuck,” he announces as he stomps into their tent just five minutes later.
She’s sitting cross legged on their bed eating some fruit and she winces when he comes in.
“Hey Bellamy,” she sighs, sounding resigned.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I must have just eaten–”
“Bullshit,” he snaps, cutting her off.
She lifts an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“I said that’s bullshit.” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at her. To anyone else he would look intimidating but Clarke just rolls her eyes at his antics. “You and I eat the same thing all the time and I’m fine so you can cut the crap about ‘oh I probably ate something.’ You’ve been like this for weeks.”
“Look it’s nothing okay, I’m dealing with it.”
“Are you saying there’s something to deal with?” he asks, leveling her with a hard glare. “Are you sick, princess?”
“No, I’m not sick,” she says in a small voice struggling to meet his eye and he takes a few steps forward, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“Then what’s going on, babe? Something’s clearly wrong and I wish you’d just talk to me about it,” he says softly, rubbing little circles into the tight muscles he finds there. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Clarke leans into his touch, shuddering a little as she takes a deep breath.
“I haven’t gotten my period in two months,” she blurts out, “At first I didn’t really take it on because my cycles never really been regular on the ground, but then I started feeling really tired all the time and nauseous no matter what I ate and my boobs hurt and I– I think I might be pregnant?”
She phrases it as a question, biting down on her lip as she looks up at him and well, Bellamy–
“Pregnant?” he says, voice coming out all choked up.
“I haven’t done a test as yet but. Probably?”
He collapses onto the bed next to her and scrubs a hand down his face. All of this doesn’t feel entirely real to him, it can’t be real, he can’t be so lucky to fall in love with someone as perfect as Clarke Griffin, to start a family with her. It all just feels like a dream that he’s going to wake up from at any given moment.
Of course, all of that comes to a grinding halt when he realises that this is his dream, and Clarke has been remarkably quiet since she told him all of this.
He swallows.
“Do you, um, do you want to keep the baby?” he asks, looking over at her.
Her brow furrows. “Do you want me to keep the baby?”
“Doesn’t matter what I want, princess,” he says with a rueful smile, “You’re the one who’ll have to grow a whole new human and give birth to it in nine months.”
She’s quiet for a good while.
Bellamy tries to keep his face completely blank as she thinks it over, trying not to show just how nervous he felt, just how fast his heart is beating as she silently debates with herself. It’s a big decision to make and although he knows which outcome he wants, he also knows that at the end of the day, Clarke is what he wants first and foremost.
“Maybe seven actually,” she says quietly after a while, playing with the torn hem of her shirt. “Since I missed two periods already then it could be seven months left.”
Seven months.
In just over half a year they could have a baby, a small little thing that maybe has his hair and her eyes if they’re lucky, a small little thing that’s just theirs.
He has to try very hard to keep from smiling.
“Do you think it’s too soon?” she asks, finally looking back at him with glassy eyes. “I mean, we’ve only been together for a year. Do you really want to have a baby with me?”
“Clarke Griffin,” he says, quiet, solemn, as he gently thumbs her bottom lip from where she was anxiously biting down on it, “I want to have all the babies with you, if you’d let me.”
It gets a giggle out of her and he grins back, both of their eyes suddenly watery, and she laughs again, throwing her arms around his neck.
“Bell, we’re having a baby,” she says giddily, hugging him tight. He can feel the wetness from her tears leaking through his t-shirt but he can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s also crying a little bit too.
He presses a sloppy kiss to her forehead, a little off centre, but still enough to make her laugh even more, even as she sniffles a bit.
“Yeah, Clarke, we’re having a baby.”
-
(+i)
Bellamy doesn’t think he’s ever been as scared in his life as the day Clarke goes into labour.
It’s winter time, one of the coldest days yet, and her water bursts early in the morning, sending them both scrambling.
She’s in labour for thirty fucking hours, first making him walk with her at least fifty times around their little community to get the contractions going, and then crushing all the bones in his hand when it’s finally time to push.
It’s simultaneously the scariest and most awe-inspiring thing he’s ever seen, and god, he knows that Clarke is tough as shit, but this is next level, and he’s fairly certain that he’s never been more in love with her than in this moment.
She gives one last push and collapses against him all sweaty and tired with tear tracks down her cheeks, but all of that doesn’t matter, not when Harper is holding a slimy red shrieking thing and then Clarke starts to cry too.
“Bell, Bell look,” she blubbers as she holds their baby to her chest, acting as though he’s been doing anything but looking ever since she entered the world. “Look at her. Look at our baby.”
“I see her, princess,” he manages to choke out, still staring in awe at their daughter. His hand is shaking as he reaches over to run a finger down her cheek. She’s stopped crying, just snuffling lightly against Clarke’s chest and he can’t believe that this is real, that she is real. “She’s perfect.”
Clarke somehow finds the energy to flash a weary smirk at him, “Of course she’s perfect. She’s ours.”
He can’t help but laugh and lean across to kiss her, hard and bit messy and perhaps a bit too intense for the delivery room of their little medbay, but Bellamy doesn’t care, not when Clarke, his gorgeous, strong, amazing Clarke, just gave birth to their baby.
“I love you,” he tells her, their foreheads pressed together, “So much.”
“I love you too,” she replies, flashing him that soft smile, the one that’s reserved just for him and now their daughter, and she cups his cheek.
Later, when all of their guests and wellwishers have finally left, and Clarke is asleep, getting some well deserved rest, Bellamy is left holding their baby.
He held her earlier of course, but it still doesn’t feel quite real as yet, standing by the window in their bedroom and looking out at the night sky with his daughter safely in his arms.
They named her Julia, after something Clarke read in a book once. Bellamy just thought the name was pretty.
Julia is awake, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes. She has his colouring, all dark hair and dark eyes and tanned skin, but her face is undeniably Clarke’s. It’s like she’s a perfect mix of the two of them.
“When you get a little bit older, I’ll tell you about the stories that were written into the stars,” he whispers to her, “The greek ones and the romans ones and of course, the ones about your mom.” He glances over to where Clarke is sleeping, mouth agape and drooling slightly on his pillow, and he smiles. “She’s a pretty badass woman.”
Julia gurgles in response and he takes that as her agreement.
He stands there a while longer, gently bouncing her while humming an old song from the Ark under his breath until she falls asleep.
Just like her mother, Julia sleeps with her little mouth open, and it draws another smile from him.
Ever so gently, he brushes back the little patch of dark, downy hair that covers her head and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, taking care not to wake her before placing her in the cot. It’s right next to their bed, next to Clarke, and for a moment he just stares at them, his two girls, his chest feeling tight with emotion.
He never thought he’d get something like this, a family of his own, but he does and now, lying next to the woman he loves while their daughter sleeps only a few feet away, well, he doesn’t think much more could top that.
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