Hi guys! This is my first time ever posting a fanfiction on , and my first time ever writing a long story in English. My native language is French, so there will undoubtedly be mistakes (as I do not have anyone to proofread me), and I apologize for that. Do not hesitate to point them out, that could really help me improve, thanks!

Disclaimer :Obviously, the 100 is no work of mine. I do not own any rights over the tv show, the characters or anything associated with the 100. My work is a pure work of fiction. However, if I do not own the characters I use in this, I am the owner of the context I put them in.

Chapter One

There are moments in your life during which you feel invincible. Mere seconds that seem to be ever-lasting, where your mind cannot contain such a confidence that it actually contaminates your whole body. Clarke felt like that, at that precise moment. Maybe it was the alcohol poisoning her veins, maybe it was the buzzing sound that kept ringing in her ears. But on this particular night, she felt like the whole world was open to her. All her problems were cast away, it was as though only she remained, dancing endlessly through the night. Euphoria overwhelmed her, filling her with a joy she had not felt in a long time. The music and the shouts that were echoing in the club were fading away in Clarke's mind. She did not know why she felt this free, neither did she know why this weird feeling decided to manifest itself on this drunk night. But god, it felt good.

A smile was painted over Clarke's face and a sweet laugh escaped her lips, resonating in her entire body. Away from rules, away from her daily life, away from everything that was troubling her happiness. For those mere seconds, she was the only one. The heavy crowd dancing around her did not matter, the world was hers and hers only.

But if the eerie feeling was fast to come, it disappeared as quickly. Clarke suddenly became too aware of her surroundings. She could feel bodies touching her, she could smell the odours of sweat and alcohol that impregnated the place. She did not feel strong anymore, the bliss that was warming her body evaporated in an instant. Her breath became uneven and the air seemed suddenly too rare. The smile was replaced by a grimace and a frown. And a strong need to throw up.

Clarke hated drinking too much for this particular reason : puking was never her thing — not that it was anyone's. She could not help it, going out with her friends in those clubs and having fun (and she had to admit that being drunk added like 100 percent more fun), but whenever reality fell back onto her shoulders, she really regretted having a single glass. Long gone was the feeling of invincibility, she just felt miserable.

She stumbled across the crowd, pushing people with her elbows. She wanted to say sorry to the ones she was pushing, she really did, but the fear that she would throw up the moment she opened her mouth was too strong. The world was moving too fast and her vision was blurry, but she eventually made it to the toilets of the club. You had to give it to The Ark, the nightclub she was currently in, they had pretty nice and clean toilets, but most importantly, they were a lot of stalls so she did not have to wait for one of them to be free.

She opened the door of one of them so fast it bounced on the wooden side. Not taking the time to close properly the door, she quickly knelt in front of the bowl and threw up what felt like the equivalent of a week of dinners. It was not a pretty sight, not at all, and as she was emptying the content of her stomach, Clarke was praying for not having ruined her hairstyle: she spent far too much time on it this evening to have her efforts annihilated by some reckless drinking.

"Fuck." she muttered, still sitting in front of the toilet like it was a normal thing to do. She was indeed feeling a lot better after that, but her mind was currently focusing on not throwing up again. And believe her, that was a hard task. After several minutes of looking stupid alone in that stall, she got up and went to the washstands.

A quick glance to the mirror confirmed that she looked like shit. Her blonde hair, that she spent so much time curling and putting in a bun, was such a mess she could have cried. Her eyeliner made her look like a freaking panda and she looked so pale people could have mistaken her for a corpse. And the headache she had was unbearable.

Just as she was bending over the sink to rince her mouth, and god knows she needed to rince her mouth, she catch a glimpse of two people staring at her. Clarke rolled her eyes as she saw two girls laughing at her awful state, as if they never saw someone in a bad state. If she was clean, she probably would have just ignored them, but since she had had far too many glasses, she decided not to stay passive. Fuck it.

She forced a smile to blossom on her lips, took a few steps towards the girls (she wanted to look confident and intimidating, but in reality, she swayed when taking those steps) and blew a kiss at them. "Want a taste, darlings?" Clarke articulated, her voice rough.

She grinned when she saw the disgusted looks on their faces as the two left the restroom, probably still criticizing her. But she did not care, her foggy mind was kinda proud of her. The world was still as blurry as before, but she managed to properly rince her mouth and clean her face. Clarke quickly dusted her black dress and, with a last glance to the mirror, she headed out.

She found her friends really fast even though the Ark was packed with people. But, it was not really a surprise: Raven was not one to be quiet and, if she liked dancing, her favorite spot in the nightclub was definitely the bar. Besides, Jasper was standing up on his stool, dancing with a drink in his hand, at the exact moment she was looking in their direction (fortunately, he was forced to sit on it by the barman, which probably saved his drunk ass from a fall). Clarke joined them, bumping on almost everything on her way, were it people or furniture.

"Hey girl!" shouted Raven as soon as she saw the blonde heading towards her, "wanna do some shots?" As if Clarke was not already in a bad shape.

"Nah, I'm good Raven, thanks," she croaked, her voice still raspy, "Actually, I was thinking about going home and-"

"Oh my god, Monty did you hear that ?" shouted Jasper, far too loud, only worsening Clarke's headache. Monty nodded. "Clarke is going homeee!" sang Jasper before swallowing another mouthful of what seemed like vodka? she was not sure.

Monty laughed and eyed Clarke with all the seriousness in the world. "That means that Clarke is giving up," he declared and turned his head towards his best friend once again, "therefore, Raven is once more the winneeeer!" And he started doing a little dance in front of the beautiful tanned girl to celebrate her victory. Raven joined him and flashed a splendid grin to Clarke, shouting to speak louder than the music: "Sorry babe, seems like I'm just too awesome for you tonight!"

Yeah, Raven was awesome. Just look at those curves, that perfect skin and her oh-so-straight teeth. Yeah, maybe she did look like a goddess in that red dress that was flaming on her body. But there was no way in hell that Clarke was going to let her win, at least not without a fight. Deciding to ignore her pounding head, she gave Raven a grin even larger in return and shouted for tequila shots to the barman. The blonde always liked challenges, and this was a challenge she was willing to take up. And fuck, she was Clarke, she could handle this.

"Oh Clarkey, that's my girl! I'm gonna beat your ass" laughed Raven, giving her a tap on the back. Clarke could hear Jasper and Monty not shutting up about how 'the fight is on again', but she ignored them as she swallowed down the first glass aligned on the bar. The tequila was burning her throat and, by the time she finally defeated Raven, they had gone through far too many glasses. Her head was even dizzier than it had been earlier and she could not help but laugh at every word her friends were saying. But Raven was in an even worse state and that was all that mattered.

She threw her fist in the air. "I'M THE WINNER!" she yelled followed by claps from Jasper and Monty, while Raven decided she was the true winner because at least she was the one with the wits to stop. Clarke smiled at her and said "Ravey, sorry but I believe I'm the one too awesome for you tonight", quickly followed by a 'Shut up blondie, you'll never reach my level of awesomeness'.

But even if she won against her best friend that night, a little bit of reason managed to make its way into Clarke's mind. She had to go home, otherwise she really was going to regret it. "Hey," she managed to get Raven's attention, "I'm going home." She kept her sentences simple, that was far easier to say without looking like a mess.

"I'll tell the two stupid boys then! Be safe, blah blah, you know the drill." Clarke chuckled. "Thanks Raven, I'll text you when I'm home."

The fact that Clarke lived only a few blocks away from the club was saving her the trouble of having to call a cab. Instead, she walked until she got to her building. She probably walked for half an hour even though it normally took her ten minutes: she had so much difficulty that she had to steady herself by leaning on the walls. And when she finally arrived into the complex she lived in, she thanked the gods it had an elevator for she would not have been able to use the stairs.

At this point, the tequila was totally clouding her brain and she felt like she was swimming. But the fact is that she was not, and she had just trouble walking and thinking. She did not feel this good, but not too bad either: at least, the headache was long gone. She fumbled in her bag to find her keys but when she went to unlock the door of her apartment, she found it open. She cursed in her breath: despite her being drunk, she was still sensible enough to know that it was so not clever of her to let her apartment free for anyone to explore.

After being blinded when she tried to turn on the switch, she decided she preferred her apartment surrounded by darkness. She bumped into every piece of furniture possible on her way to her bedroom, each time letting out a little yelp and sometimes, apologizing for hitting the said furniture. Her bedroom was pitch black and she took something like five minutes to find the bed.

But as soon as her hands found the soft mattress and the sheets, she let herself fall onto the bed. Not even taking the time to undress and get rid of the smeary make-up, she buried herself under the cover. She let out a sigh of content, plunged into the pillows and fell asleep, knowing very well that tomorrow, her problems would come chasing her again.

Clarke was having a very pleasant dream. It involved big fields, flowers, bunnies and a lot of sun: the perfect recipe for a relaxing night. It had actually been a while since she had a real good night of sleep, devoid of any nightmare. She was following a bouncing white bunny when the little rabbit broke and exploded into several pieces of shattered glass. 'Weird', she thought, on the verge of waking up, 'Bunnies do not usually do that'

"What the fuck."

If she still wanted to be lost in her dreamy fields, the words were undoubtedly real. Her eyes shot open and her mind lost the billions of flowers that carpeted her vision. Someone had spoken, and that was not her. Unless having a hangover made your voice really deep and masculine, which she doubted. She tried to sit up and found herself staring at a man. Tanned, tall, unmistakably gorgeous but most importantly, a total stranger.

She must have looked as startled as the guy was. What the fuck. That summarized the whole situation perfectly. Clarke opened her mouth to ask him why the hell was he in her apartment when the dots connected. This was not her bed. This was not her room. And this was most certainly not her apartment. Oh my god. How did she not realize this when she entered the room last night? Was she so drunk that she could not even notice the apartment (the apartment for god's sake) was nothing like hers?

She closed her mouth. To the stranger's feet were shards of broken glass, which he probably dropped upon seeing her. 'That explained the bunny', she laughed inside her head. But when her eyes reconnected with the man's, all funny thought left her. Damn he looked pissed off. But who could blame him? He was the one who walked in his room to find her.

"Who the fuck are you?"

If his dark eyes could shot daggers, Clarke would not have lived to explain herself.

And here it is! First chapter is over. Please, R&R, that would really help me improve and just know what you'd like to see from me. I wish you all good vacations if you have some wherever you are. I'll do my best to write the next chapter, it should not be too long to come hopefully! See you for the next update guys. :)