A series of five installments about the overlapping sleeping habits of Clarke and Bellamy.

One

Clarke lay on the couch staring up at the ceiling, watching strips of yellow dance across, signaling the passing cars outside. It had been an hour since she and Octavia had stumbled in the door of the Blake residence, Octavia because she was sufficiently drunk, and she because she was single-handedly supporting the weight of her friend while trying to find her keys. Clarke had long since put her friend to bed, after forcing her to drink a bottle of water in an attempt to ward off the impending morning hangover. Now, Octavia was peacefully snoring in the next room, but Clarke could not make her brain shut off.

She too had been enjoying their evening bar hopping with friends. That is until she saw her ex-boyfriend, Finn, in the same place. Although Clarke had been in some tough relationships before and after him, this one still stung way worse in comparison. With Finn there was not steady decline into frustration and eventual separation. It wasn't even a big earth-shattering blowout like it had been with her girlfriend Lexa. Instead it had snuck up on Clarke, silently, while she was head over heels for him. And it came in the form of another woman, or The Woman she supposed. Clarke had been the "other" she later found out.

She blew out a breath, turning over, attempting to get comfortable on the worn couch.

"Stupid old thing" she thought scowling as she fluffed her pillow.

But the truth was, it wasn't the couch that was the problem and she knew it. She had spent many blissful nights in this exact place, waking to the smell of pancakes or Octavia jumping on her eagerly. Tonight though, the couch seemed too small. Too lonely. Seeing Finn brought back a rush of emotions she did not want to revisit, but felt all the same. She supposed she could go to Octavia, knowing full well her best friend would let her in the bed without hesitation. But Octavia wasn't exactly a great nighttime cuddler. She tended to move all over the bed, steal the covers, and she had been known to even thrash on occasion. It was unlikely she would get any more sleep there. And her friend didn't exactly seem to be in best state of mind to carry on a conversation on past loves.

She pulled the blanket around her tighter, attempting to stifle the growing chill she felt in her chest. It was no use. Her mind had decided that tonight was the night to dredge up all those repressed emotions. The feelings of sadness, betrayal, and that nagging feeling that no one would ever love her. Truly love her. She couldn't stand it anymore.

Clarke sat up, pushing her feet off the couch. She walked into the bathroom, splashing warm water on her face as she tried to calculate if she had enough money to pay for a cab ride home. Or if she would even be able to find a cab at this hour. Shutting off the light and sighing, she stepped out of the bathroom and stared across from her. It was the door to Bellamy's room.

She wasn't sure the elder Blake was home, but on the days he worked he usually stumbled home and into bed without doing much else. Glancing at the front door she noted his worn black boots. She stepped towards his door then hesitated. She and Bellamy weren't exactly best friends. Years of friendship with Octavia and integrating herself in their home had softened the once bitter relationship between them. They still fought enthusiastically and often, but it didn't have the same bite. And they actually enjoyed one another's company now. But Bellamy was still largely a mystery to her. There was a lot going on behind his deep brown eyes that she had yet to really know about.

But in that moment, the thought of rolling into bed beside his strong, warm, body was somehow irresistible. It might have also had something to do with the fuzziness that was still in the back of her brain, reminding her of the many drinks she too had consumed over the course of the night. She took a definitive step forward, curling her hand over the cool metal of the doorknob. She slowly turned it, tiptoeing into the room and carefully shutting the door behind her.

The street lamp outside filtered in some light through the blinds, falling on Bellamy's sleeping form. He lay on his side, one arm tucked under his head, chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm. She leaned against the door for a moment taking it in, she wanted to feel that peace. Slowly she shuffled towards the bed, careful not to make too much noise. Pulling up one side of the comforter, she carefully slipped into the bed. She froze for a moment, holding her breath in case she had woken him. She didn't exactly have a great explanation for this, let alone a sane one. After a minute with no movement on his part, Clarke relaxed.

Turning towards him she studied his face in the glow of the street lamp. He was so handsome, but in an unconventional way. Clarke hadn't been able to resist sketching him on occasion, of course not to his knowledge lest he make something more of it than it was. She just liked his features; his strong jaw, the freckles that peppered his cheeks, the messy hair that curled around his ears. They were a disarming combination.

"Clarke?" Bellamy whispered sleepily.

Clarke stilled. In her inspection she had somehow shifted closer to him, her nose just a few short inches from him, her fingertips brushing the fabric of his t-shirt against his chest. His eyes blinked at her, foggy in his dreamy haze. She smiled softly, the initial fear draining from her. His eyes had already drooped closed and he looked quite adorable.

"Go back to sleep Bellamy" she whispered, gently moving her fingers in a circular motion against his chest.

"Okay" he mumbled back, shifting closer to her.

His body radiated warmth in waves and Clarke could do little else but snuggle closer, pressing herself up against him. In a matter of minutes she too was fast asleep.

The next morning Bellamy awoke with a start, his alarm beeping shrilly on the table next to him. Blearily he reached over, shutting it off and turning over onto his back. He lay still for a few moments running through a list of what he had to do for the day. Showering was currently in the number one spot. But he made no effort to get up, sleep tugging at his tired eyes. He rolled over on his side, away from the sun shining through the widow. He started to burrow his face into the sheets under him, convincing himself that he deserved an extra ten minutes, when suddenly his eyes snapped open. He smelled a faint jasmine, the signature scent of-

"Clarke" he said aloud.

Opening his eyes he stared at the bed next to him. He had a faint memory that she had been laying here just last night, having appeared suddenly. He could almost feel the warmth of her body next to his. And he remembered feeling a profound sense of contentment. But the space next to him in the bed showed no indication another person had been there. He ran his hands over the unwrinkled sheets, the comforter undisturbed and pulled up near the pillow.

Turning over on his back he closed his eyes once again. He couldn't shake the warmth he felt, recalling the feeling of her next to him. But she hadn't been next to him right? So this feeling was…what exactly?

"Get it together Bellamy" he said under his breath, before propelling himself up towards the bathroom, no longer able to sleep.

That's the first installment! Drop me a review if you'd like (they are always appreciated). Thanks for reading!