Clarke takes one step outside of the building and decides to take the subway instead of venture on the fifteen minute walk back to her apartment in the cold. She knows it's the better choice anyway, her bag weighing her down even more than usual.
More than her schoolbooks resting on her shoulders lately.
The wind cuts through the scarf around her face chilling her to the bone before she descends the cement stairs into the hot underground.
The train blows in before she even has a chance to warm up. Her mittened hands still buried in the depths of her pocket, the music in her ears drowned out by the rushing of the train, the screeching and squealing of the brakes.
It's the worst noise in the entire world, grating and grating into her brain.
With a sigh at the crowded cars, Clarke steps onto the train and towards a pole in the middle of the car, switching the song on her playlist to something calming and quiet. This is why she always skips the train after class. It's too much, too many people, too many noises.
She just needs space.
The car sways along the tracks and Clarke goes with it, watching as people get on and off, making note of all of the beleaguered students and feeling less alone, but still overwhelmed.
She's almost home when a giant of a man gets up from a seat close by and bumbles past her to wait by the door. He knocks into her backpack and shoves her with it, not caring about the mumbled "Excuse me!" that escapes Clarke's lips.
It's lost amongst the crowd that funnels onto the car and Clarke repositions herself, tucking into the corner on the other side, leaning against the unopened door, ignoring all warnings against such behavior like most of the T-riding crowd.
She loses herself in her music once again and tries to decide which take-out place will deliver to her apartment quicker when her eyes land on the girl sitting in the seat next to her.
Her wavy hair is pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck. A neck that draws Clarke's attention immediately. Long and graceful, lean. Full of perfect lines, a perfect arch. Unburdened by a scarf even in the beginnings of the cold winter night.
It's a beautiful neck and Clarke can't pull her eyes off of it.
She barely notices the strong jaw that attaches to the neck.
Or the round cheeks.
Or the pouty lips.
Barely.
They all register on her radar.
But that neckā¦
Clarke's fingers itch to touch. To draw.
She hasn't had much time to draw this semester, even though it calms her nerves.
It's all she can think of now, in this moment.
Not the paper she has to finish.
Not the exam she has next week.
Not the food she was planning on eating.
She longs for charcoals and paper.
Smudged hands and the feelings of freedom.
The train screeches as it begins to slow and the beautiful stranger stands, shoving the book she was reading into her bag and swinging it over her shoulder.
She grabs the pole just below Clarke's hand to rise from her seat while the train is still stopping.
Their fingers brush together quickly and Clarke feels a spark.
A real one, jolting her fingers.
Their eyes meet.
Green.
So green.
"Sorry." It's rushed.
"It's fine." Clarke isn't sure how she gets words out.
The train finally stops and there's a pause before the door opens.
The eye contact they've been holding is finally broken as the girl turns to exit the train.
She's nearly out the door when something catches Clarke's attention out of the corner of her eye. A scarf, left behind on the seat she just vacated. Without stopping to think Clarke picks it up and bounds out the door after her.
She spots the wavy hair a few steps ahead of her, searching the bag at her shoulder frantically.
"Excuse me?"
Green eyes look up again, surprise and question apparent in them.
"I think this is yours?" Clarke holds out the scarf tentatively between them. She watches as the stranger's face relaxes just the slightest bit.
"Oh yes! Thank you!" A hand reaches out towards Clarke's and grabs the scarf. There's another spark, bigger than the one before. Clarke can see it ignite the evening air between them.
"Ouch." It's out of her lips before she can stop it. She pulls her hand back quickly.
"I'm so sorry." The girl reaches out her hand to soothe Clarke's in a move that seems too familiar and yet welcome all at once. As soon as they touch again, there's another spark but this time a laugh bursts through Clarke's lips.
"You know if you keep shocking me I might regret running off the train and giving you back your scarf." It's teasingly light, and Clarke wonders if this girl can see the humor in her eyes and the smirk on her lips.
"Who says you're not the one shocking me?" The slightest tilt of pouty lips.
Clarke's heart skips a beat, her lips already moving to continue the game. The banter. "I guess we'll never know."
The girl places the scarf around her neck and Clarke can't help but think about how it's such a shame to cover such a beautiful neck. She must be staring, because the girl who hasn't yet walked away from her breaks her from her thoughts.
"It was a gift."
"Hm?"
"The scarf. It was a gift."
Clarke breathes a sigh of relief at the mistake. She can handle being caught ogling a scarf. She doesn't know if she could handle being caught ogling this stranger's neck.
"It's beautiful." She tears her eyes away from the scarf.
"Thank you. And thank you for grabbing it. I"m lucky you saw it before the train pulled away."
"Me too."
"I hope you don't have to wait too long for the next one. It's freezing out here."
"Oh, I"ll just walk from here. It's not too far."
"Well then, I guess we're both lucky." She turns to start walking away but catches Clarke's eyes again. "Have a good night."
Her goodnight is accompanied with a small smile that warms Clarke from the inside out.
As Clarke turns to walk towards her own apartment, she can't help but wonder if it was the cold, dry air that caused the shock or if it was something more.
