A warm gust of air hit Clarke Griffin as she opened the door in a haze and lazily shambled up the stairs, throwing her snow covered coat in the direction of the hanger, not caring whether it actually landed on it or not. She had just spent a 32 hour shift in the OR, helping a man who had been in a near-fatal three car pile up regain lung function. After that, she had to bear the freezing cold 2 and a half block walk back to the apartment, since she had no battery to call an Uber. Needless to say, she was dead tired. Her arms flailed behind her as she flopped facedown on the couch and let out a soft groan. After being on her feet all day, the shitty brown, hard leather couch felt like the softest bed in the world. After what felt like only five minutes of restless sleep, she was awoken by her roommate Bellamy pulling a warm blanket over her.
"Hey," he said softly. "Sorry for waking you up. Long day, huh?"
Clarke's only response was to push her face deeper into the couch crease and groan.
"Ok then, that's all the answer I need."
Bellamy began to delicately get up from the couch, but was stopped by Clarke reaching a hand up to him, pushing her blonde hair out of her face with the other. "No… stay." She groaned sleepily, drawing herself up to a sitting position.
"Okay, okay." Bellamy mumbled, feeling the old couch shift under his weight as he sat back down. Clarke shuffled next to him and pressed her nose into Bellamy's collarbone, coiling her hands into his shirt. Bellamy almost recoiled. He and Clarke were close, they had met each other in high school and stayed on to go into the trades together, but Clarke was always careful not to be too handsy with Bellamy. There was a clear line in the relationship that separated friends from lovers. It seemed to Bellamy that line was getting seriously blurred over the past week or two.
"Why do you smell like you walked through a burning building?" Clarke said, snapping Bellamy back to reality.
"Oh, there was a small fire at the construction site today, nothing too bad, I helped the guys put it out."
"Bellamy, you dumbass! You could have been hurt!" Clarke said with a hint of worry in her voice.
"Nah nah, I'm fine. It was like five feet wide,it was nothing."
"You better not be lying," Clarke murmured as she rested her head on his shoulder, giggling as she curled the warm fleece blanket around the both of them.
"What's so funny?" Bellamy asked as he settled into position.
"Nothing, just thought of the time I was making S'mores with my dad and he stuck the whole marshmallow stick into the center of the fire. I don't know what he was trying to do but the whole thing melted right off! He came back up with a flaming stick and absolutely no sign of marshmallow."
They sat there for another few minutes, reveling in the quiet sounds of the city. Clarke's head was now on Bellamy's lap, his hand entwined in her hair, the other resting on her back. He watched her eyes drift closed as he thought about his relationship with her, and realized that things would not be the same after this moment. He wanted it to last forever, but he knew that he had to ask the question. If he didn't it would just stay bottled up inside him until he died of embarrassment. He took a deep breath, "Hey Clarke?"
"What?"
"I have something to ask you, it's really important and I don't want you to laugh at me."
Good god, finally. Clarke thought. Was this boy finally picking up on all the hints she was sending him? She knew Bellamy was smart but when it came to love, he was exceedingly stupid. Her heart swelled in her chest as she excitedly waited for what he was about to ask. She looked up and saw him beet-red, obviously very embarrassed. She reached up and cupped his face in her hand. There was nothing unexpected that he could say to her, it had already been laid out in her mind.
"Bellamy its ok, I won't laugh at you."
Bellamy looked into her eyes and quietly said:
"Clarke, what's a S'more?"
Well that was unexpected.