edit:-photosets

P.S. I Never Told You

*click through to read on ao3

written by: Lexi | @goldenheadfreckledheart

prompt: A piece of paper attached to the pillar. It reads, ‘p.s. I was falling in love with you.’ @oftheskyepeople

word count: 5315


“You left her a note? How old are you?”

“I can’t tell if you’re implying I’m immature or old and out of touch.”

On the other end of the call, Octavia sighs. “Both, probably.”

“Your support is always appreciated.”

“Bell-,”

“I know it’s stupid.” He admits with a sigh of his own, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “But when have I ever not been stupid about her?”

His sister is silent for a moment, a confirmation.

“You said she went there all the time right?” she finally asks.

“Yeah, even before we were friends.”

“So she’ll probably go back. And she was friends with you, so who knows? Maybe she’s into that kind of inept flirtation.”

He wants to argue—but, “That’s really the only kind I’ve got.”

“Good luck, Bell.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bellamy became friends with Clarke Griffin in the way that feels like a whirlwind but was actually a fairly basic, linear series of events, starting two years ago:

He moves to the city, fresh out of undergrad, to work as a glorified assistant at the city library archives. Which isn’t to say that the library isn’t great, but Jaha doesn’t trust him with doing any original research yet, so Bellamy spends most of his time filing or verifying details on the other archivists’ research.

It’s a start, is what he keeps telling himself. Octavia’s got an amazing scholarship to a school in California; she’s having the time of her life. Which means Bellamy can stop worrying about her and work towards having a career he actually loves, instead of working as many jobs as possible, on top of balancing classes.

He’s still getting used to it.

It’s raining when he meets Clarke, the first rain of the fall, and he obviously didn’t think to check the weather that morning, so his walk home from the library is decidedly dreary.

Keep reading

10

“The foundation of all human knowledge, the beginning of human consciousness, must be that each and every one of us is an object of love. Before you know if you have red hair or brown, before you know if you are black or white, before you know of what religion you are a part, you have to know that you are loved”.

♚ Happy 59th Birthday, Michael Jackson!  ❤