The cafe was packed with suits. People in high strung business careers with their expensive attire and insatiable thirst for coffee.
This was to be expected as the shop was located smack bang in the centre of several corporate buildings in the city of Polis.
Although those that earned over 150K generally filtered out around 8:50 - 9:15.
Clarke finished wiping milk residue off the steam wand and unscrunched her eyebrows at her quick glance to the clock conveniently placed besides the blackboard beverage menu.
She bit the left side of her bottom lip; it was soon to be 8:40.
A business man in a suit stood stiffly towards the back of the shop, close to the door.
The barista caught a glimpse to identify him. He came in daily wearing the same shades, but apparently he wasn't too thrilled with the time frame it takes to prepare his order today.
The suits' arms were crossed, this in turn bunched enough fabric into the crease of his elbow, exposing what was expected to be an expensive watch.
The blonde retrieved a large paper cup from beneath the bench out of reflex and began to pour the piping hot milk into the caffeinated concoction.
There was one last touch, cocoa powder - it was a cappuccino. Despite a lid going over the foam adorning the sweet dust, customers kick up a fuss when it isn't applied. Clarke snorts at remembering one lady in particular dousing her in the remaining coffee - without cocoa powder - all over her uniform.
Thank God the lady had half consumed the drink that the heat within was reduced significantly. Instead of being burnt, Clarke just became saturated with milk. A soft chuckle to herself, she got sent home early that shift.
With a smirk, she calls the name "Cage" and sets the fresh coffee further towards the retrieval bench out of habit.
She turned away, beginning yet another coffee for the next common customer.
The store seemed to grow in size as 15 of the waiting patrons were delivered their drinks and set on their way to begin a tight schedule.
Only 3 business people left. Although these looked to be younger, less rich individuals.
She figured immediately as they ordered that these were the rookie assistants. All ordering about 2+ coffees to go.
She recalled when she had been an assistant to her Mother, Doctor Griffin. They wound up butting heads too often so Clarke shortened her employment to a temporary state, much to Abbys' dismay.
Her mouth formed into a flat line.
Sure, she had regretted the way she left her Mothers side, but it had to be done.
Moving away was an essential milestone and served to inspire her career in the arts further.
The fact her College was in the same state only aided in her argument to leave home so soon.
She finished up a batch of coffees and slipped them carefully into drink trays, slotting a generous wad of napkins between cups in case of spillage.
The last shuffled over in a thin white dress shirt and black tie, giving a smile above a grimace to the barista.
She returned a hopeful nod and small smile.
"Have a good day"
"You too."
She breathes out a large sigh.
The pale light from the sun shining through the skyscrapers becomes a firm white.
An elderly couple order with a sincere smile and seat themselves in the corner of the cafe.
Clarke casts her gaze over to them as she prepares their beverages; they're holding hands over the table top.
That's what is meant by forever. Growing old with someone you love in the most purest form.
The sight brings a smile to her face.
She empties milk into 2 mugs, placing a spoon on each saucer before leaving the barista bench to deliver it to them.
After returning to her counter, she begins to empty out the spill tray of the espresso machine.
Someone approaches the counter to order, Bellamy, who is typically situated behind the pastry, sandwich and macaroon portion of the store, comes over to serve.
He was good like that. He helped without expecting praise.
He turned away from the counter after the customer retreated to seat themselves.
"Just need a large latte at table 4, Princess." He informed with a smile, before hurrying back to man his bench after seeing a small family approach the snack bar.
The blonde huffed before finishing up her task, then began frothing milk and preparing the latte.
'Table 4, huh' Clarke thought without any real objective, cast her blue eyes towards the table for 2.
A long, wavy-haired brunette sat poised, back straight as an arrow as her hands worked over the keys of her macbook at a lightning pace.
The blonde, intrigued but not wanting to stare, averted her gaze back to the job at hand.
She finished preparing and made her way round the barista bench to give it to the mystery woman she hadn't seen before.
As she approached, she began to smile into her sentence, "One tall latte?"
She placed it to the right of the laptop and set down the spoon on the saucer along with a napkin.
Her light eyes flickered to the girls face, into her ever-green, framed with dark lashes.
Clarke wasn't expecting such a striking appearance, her breath caught in her throat.
The brunette held eye contact for a moment before her mouth barely opened to utter a 'thank you'.
Clarke was in a state of shock. How could one person have such aesthetically pleasing facial features?
She turned away and barely nodded in response, making her way back to her counter.
Bellamy glanced down the space between both benches and saw her, both her hands screwed up in her apron as she stared blankly at the espresso machine.
Complete bewilderment.
"Hey," He whispered her way. She remained unknowing of her environment, to which he couldn't help but crack a smile.
God, Clarke was a nutter. At least that's he thought, and that's all that counted to a Blake.
"Pssst, Clarke!" He shouted in a hush octave.
She blinked in the first time in a good 2 minutes, fluttering her eyes towards him.
"You okay over there?"
"What-oh, yeah." She whispered back with a dismissing wave of the hand.
"You sure?" He mouthed narrowing his eyes in suspicion, his eyebrows knit themselves together in one sharp pull of his forehead.
"Yeah, yeah. It's been a long day" She replied with a smile, desperate to reassure him. The last thing she needs is Bellamy finding out about her 'I made eye contact with a pretty girl' paralysis. She'd never hear the end of it.
She wrinkled her nose to break her stun further, leading him away from her suspicious scent.
"I'm okay, Bell. Really."
With a nod he turned back to man his bench, though Clarke failed to believe she convinced him too well.
Her eyes focused beyond her counter, back on that cute brunette who's trained purposefully on her laptop screen.
The barista wiped her hands on her apron once more, looking down with a sigh.
Clarkes life was unbearably dull on her own, so vibrant persons such as the mysterious girl sitting on her lonesome enters it, even briefly, it's food for thought.
Something or more - someone to think of. Inspiration if you will.
A Muse.
It was finally 12 and her break had arrived.
"I'm taking my break" She announced, her voice carried to Bellamy who quickly served up a ham and cheese croissant on a plate.
"Try not to zone out, princess. You have 25 minutes." He informed. He was supervisor, acting manager while that position had yet to be filled.
Although they both roughly started out at the cafe around about the same time, he sucked up to achieve a promotion. Mostly in order to gain more money to provide for his sister. The barista hung up her apron as she retrieved her art diary from her canvas bag.
"You aren't the boss of me" She rebuked but in feign. Narrowing her eyes at him as her pale hand snatched the plate he prepared out of habit for her.
He let out a sigh and gave her a amused smirk as she retreated to her typical break spot (when it was vacant).
It was at the stool/singles section at the front left of the store. Customers rarely intentionally used these seats unless the rest of the house was taken, so it remained relatively clean and preserved.
Not only was this spot out of the way to not take up excessive amounts of room, but it had one of the two massive windows directly in front of the bench Clarke used. Being able to see outside meant she had more to draw; though she had sketched just about every building in sight from it, it still relieved her to be closer to outside like this. Just a little bit more free, like a bird or the wind.
She hummed as she ate. Savoring the first meal she'd consumed today. The saltiness of the ham and, in contrast, the sweetness of the cheese.
The flaky pastry surrounding the contents just added to how pleasing it was sink her teeth into it.
Finishing up her food, she began to flick open her art diary. Sliding around the crisp white pages around the coil spine of the journal.
The blonde hissed when she registered what the transparent smudges around the edges of the page were - grease residue from her hands. She'd forgot to wipe them clean.
You'd think if you'd made the same mistake countless times prior, you'd learn to avoid it. Not Miss Barista Griffin.
Despite this mistake aggravating her, she let it go. She could probably just draw over the soiled portion in order to save it. Not all is lost.
Now, the new question is, what to draw in the mean time. She tapped the eraser end of her pacer to the soft divot in her chin, the eraser producing a satisfying bounce.
A bird had walked into frame of the stores window and she had made some progress down on her page, but man leaving the cafe spooked it into flight.
She sighed to herself before casting her gaze inward. She saw that girl - the girl - was still situated perfectly in one of the deep brown wooden chairs, headphones in but her fingers still moving around the keys as consistently as ever.
Clarke noticed from this angle, although it be further away, the brunette had a notebook out as well along with a bag lumped below the table next to her legs.
Her legs, they were crossed - covered in tight black jeans that part way down her calves began into brown boots with a small heel.
On the girls torso hung a loose fitted white shirt that fell slightly off her shoulders, causing the neckline to plunge to a degree.
Her figure was lithe like that of a dancer. Her brown hair flowed off her frame too. It almost appeared ethereal.
Clarke had awoken to herself drawing this customer. She had even noticed she'd turned her body towards her in order to commit this embarrassing atrocity.
The barista turned away from the view, face flushing bright pink as she prayed Bellamy hadn't noticed her ogling at the unsuspecting patron. If he knew, Octavia knew.
The Blake siblings were double trouble. Bellamy having some sort of resolve and responsibility, acted as a second pair of eyes and ears for his gossipy sister and Clarkes best friend, Octavia Blake. Christ, she hoped he'd been occupied.
Although she had promised herself she wouldn't look at the other girl again during her break, she did give her the freedom to shade in the girls pants. Incorporating small details she hadn't added in her rough sketch down of the brunettes pose, like small, what looked like to be decorative belt buckles on her boots. Or the coat hung over the back of her chair.
Clarke spent the last 5 minutes of her break looking at the drawing of the girl she was forbidden to look at.
The barista had wondered when she should retrieve the cup from the beautiful individual at table 4. It had been at least 2 hours this girl had been typing for.
Clarke hated to admit it, but she was intimidated by this being. A being that looked at her once voluntarily, though more out of common courtesy than general interest.
'Although,' Clarkes hopeful portion of her brain sparked up, 'that was a mutual moment when we held eye contact, wasn't it?' the small thought finished rhetorically.
'C'mon, just do your job, Griffin. Don't let your stupid infatuation with a stranger reduce you to a damn shy school girl. You got this, own it.'
Clarke nods at her inner monologue before rounding her bench and approaching the girl for her cup.
As she reaches out for the rim, her eyes capture the liquid still inside the cup. It was full.
"Oh," Clarke said in thought, the girl seated hurriedly removed an earpiece to listen.
"Was there something you found unsatisfactory about the drink or?" She questioned huskily, generally unsure of why someone would abandon a hot beverage. Let alone one crafted by the artist baristas hands herself!
"No-no." The girl denied quickly, "I lost track of time and totally, uh" her gaze delved into Clarkes "forgot." The brunette looked off to the side.
"Oh well, i'd be happy to make you a replacement?" Clarke offered. Fuck.
"I'm sorry, i'd be happy to pay for-"
"It's fine, it's on the house." Clarke reassured with a smile, cutting the girl off before she could refuse her offer further.
Clarke rounded her bench with the full cup and saucer and poured it down the sink.
She retrieved a new set and set to work on the replacement.
The barista swore she could feel Bellamys eyes on her, so she made sure to look twice as consumed in her objective just to potentially convince him nothing was amiss.
The deed was done, she delivered the piping hot replacement to the girl.
"Don't forget to drink this one, okay?" Clarke added sweetly but realized it could've come out as gesture of mockery.
The girl turned her face to the side similarly as she had earlier and just murmured a word of thanks.
Clarke felt shut out from this customer now although she thought she'd won the earlier back and forth they had. 'It had been a short encounter.' Clarkes logic weighed in.
Maybe she has some hangups about receiving free stuff? Perhaps she was embarrassed she was thought to be forgetful? What if she just doesn't want the attention Clarke has given her today?
Clarke grimaced at the possibility the girl knew she had sketched her earlier. She felt guilty as if she'd crossed the line of privacy intrusion.
The blonde kicked herself into gear, realizing she had been standing there a little bit too long and had made it officially weird now.
'Good going, Griffin. She probably hates your burnt-ass coffee and was too shy to say it to your face.'
Jeez, her head sure was buzzing with anxiety today, huh.
'This is what pretty girls do to you. Mostly due to your lack of a grip over yourself.'
Yikes, she needed to sleep this infatuation off. Clarke prayed it wouldn't latch itself into her dreams or anything weird. This girl had too much of an effect over her after one measly day, this was bad news.
It had been nearing 2pm so the blonde began to wipe up her station, leaving it spotless for the next barista that clocked on to appreciate what organization looked like.
She pulled out her blonde locks from her hair tie, allowing her scalp to release all the pent up tension that began an ache in her head. Immediately solved.
Medical prodigy Miss Dr. Griffin jr. She cringed inwardly at her own roast.
Pulling her aprons fastening free, she unhooked the neck loop from around her head and hung it up. There had been minimal spills today so she wouldn't need to wash it at home just yet.
"See you tomorrow, Bell. I think Monty's just in the bathroom at the moment, shouldn't be too long." She informed him, slinging her canvas bag over her shoulder.
"Have a good evening, Clarke." With that he cast her off.
The walk from work was only a couple blocks, though she did have to weave in and out between skyscrapers that took up entire blocks themselves. Though she had the stamina.
She breathed in the sharp scent of damp autumn vegetation. Orange leaves had gathered in the gutters, but there were a couple rogue leaves that had splayed out so completely during the rain fall they're suctioned to the pavement.
Clarke loved Autumn. By far the most vibrant colour combinations from the foliage year after year. She cherished the decline into Winter too, although her current coat wasn't doing a impeccable job to seal her heat in. She was close to her dorm and that's all that truly mattered. Endurance.
When she entered her respective building she was relieved that the wind that picked up was locked outside, away from her now pink cheeks and nose.
Entering her dorm room with a simple slotting of her key, then noticing Raven, her roommate wasn't in.
Clarke frowned at this like an upset child. She didn't want to blab about the girl she served today, but she wanted the opportunity to do so.
'Because that makes sense, doesn't it.' her brain mocked her own emotions.
"Shut up me" Clarke said aloud to the empty room.
The blonde hung up her canvas bag and removed her coat to rest directly beside it on a hook.
Her pale hands dove into her bag, retrieving her art diary and flipping through to the most recent work.
She stared at the rough characteristics of that girl - the girl - that swept her mind away in a flood of inspiration.
It wasn't until several moments passed she realized she'd been smiling at her own artwork.
'Yikes, maybe I am going crazy.'
Thank you for reading.
I chose to make Clarke the barista as I've read several other works where Lexa has been the girl with a crush behind the counter.
Feel free to let me know what you think about this, I'm thinking of producing further chapters to this plot.
I hope I captured the essence of realism in this introduction.
My apologies if Lexa is somewhat out of character so far, I know she doesn't have much in the way of dialogue.
First time writing for the 100 fandom, so bare with me on this one.
I wanted Clarke and Bellamy to have banter but intentionally as sibling sarcasm.
Anyway, thanks for taking time out of your day to make it this far.
Would appreciate any comments you can offer.
Have a good one