These weeks abroad had been the time of her life but Clarke couldn't lie. She missed being able to order the food she wanted not just what she understood on the menu. She missed actually getting what she ordered (well what she thought she ordered). She missed being able to say excuse me without having to think through the four languages of the different countries she visited. Was today pardon or excuzee? By the time she recalled, the person already shoved past her. Clarke knows they would have appreciated her saying something but her brain is always tinged with the fog of exhaustion. She misses understanding the people around her and being understood. She wished she spoke the languages but the only two in her repertoire were English and broken Spanish. Neither of which helped in France or Germany or Italy or their current country, Belgium. She hated herself for not appreciating everything about the trip and the experience learning new culture.
She was grateful to the other Jaha University students she was traveling with and had formed bonds with them not soon to be broken. How else could they get through nights of eating squid and escargot soup after thinking they ordered fried calamari without loads of laughter? And the nights when they were in a bit more sketch neighborhoods than previously realized, the boys would surround the girls and they felt safer (even though it was sexist). The experiences together sealed their friendship but no matter their closeness when ten kids in one van toured Europe with never enough sleep, they were bound to grow tired of each other.
Some of them knew each other before the trip began and that made everything worse and better. Clarke knew Wells, Jasper, and Monty since they were kids. She wasn't afraid to shoot them a sharp word when something annoyed her but that was happening pretty frequently now that they've reached their fifth week.
Everyone else was a new encounter for Clarke. Raven was the only person on the trip who seemed to come alone. She strutted up to the van on the first day in her combat boots wearing a tight top accentuating her… assets with a red leather jacket on top. Clarke immediately took a liking to her when she corrected Monty on his calculation of the gas mileage efficiency if they had taken a private plane instead. Clarke hung out with her and another spunky girl, Harper when the boys got to be too much for her. Which had become more and more often.
The Blake siblings always seemed to be on opposing pages but Bellamy looked out for Octavia. She heard him mutter the words "my responsibility" under his breath on more than one occasion. For the most part, his protectiveness was comforting in the foreign places but it often pushed Octavia to do the exact opposite of what he wanted. Clarke understood Octavia's annoyance especially now that Wells had begun mimicking Bellamy's overprotectiveness but towards Clarke. Octavia's rebellion was actually how they ended up at the current location.
They had bought their typical pregame bottles of Malibu and Jack at the liquor store by their hostel on the way back from a day of exploring. They each took a quick nap before beginning the night's preparations. Without cups, they all just took pulls from the bottles. Clarke was uncertain how the tradition began but the first to hit a chaser bought the first round at the bar. In turn by the fourth or fifth hostel of the trip, no one bothered even buying a soda or juice. The group ended up only being eight for the night with the other two choosing a long night between the partially-cleaned hostel of the eight powered through a few large swigs and were ready to head out a bit blearier eyed than they entered. Bellamy and Wells always refused to begin before they arrived safely at the bar. The group set out with a cloak of joy settled around their shoulders. The night just felt right.
Bellamy's suggestion was, Dropship, a bar next to the restaurant they went to for dinner. There really was no other choice because he was the only guide lacking inebriation. The walk began with empty streets but once they reached a more central area crowds began forming. Octavia ran free in front of the group only pausing when uncertain of direction and still ending up down a wrong road once or twice. Clarke and Raven laughed at her enthusiasm and nearly doubled over when one guy offered her his hands then spun her. Maybe they should have worried for her safety but they were still swaddled inside the comfort from earlier.
A turn before Dropship, Octavia jolted to a stop in front of a side road. Clarke and Raven jogged up to make sure nothing was wrong. Before getting to her, they could already hear the music and chorus of voices floating out of the alley. The two arrived next to O and watched the scene in front of them awestruck. The alley was filled with patrons body to body dancing and singing between a number of bars. They carried their beers and glasses from one bar to another without worry. The street held the party.
"Woaaahh." Clarke was startled out of the scene by the arrival of the rest of the group.
"Hell yeah, woah," Octavia shot back at Monty. "Sorry, Bell, but I think we found our scene for the night."
Clarke looked over at Bellamy to see his face filled with apprehension. She could tell it would be hard to keep track of everyone in this crowd. And the crowd was definitely a rowdy one. She sees a slight want behind his hard look but he starts to shake his head no. "O, it's just too much. We won't be able to find everyone to head home."
Clarke saw Wells nodding in agreement. But then she caught Octavia's face out of the corner of her eye. The girl was not going to take no for an answer. Her face had steeled into the Blake ferocity and Clarke was glad not to be on the other end of that glare. "That's not a good enough reason. Enough of us have international texting. We're going." With that, Octavia marched the troops into their new battle ground.
Clarke gladly followed throwing a glance over her shoulder at a still worried Wells. "Come on, kid. It'll be an experience." He sighed but began walking into the alley. Bellamy was the last to join trailing behind the group keeping a sharp eye out for any trouble.
So that was how Clarke ended up crowded in a booth drinking a beer facing the bar of Delirium, one of the most famous bars in Brussels, if not the world. They held the world record for beer variety with over 2000 types. Of course, Clarke wanted something harder but settled for a chocolate flavored beer. She shook her head at herself. After five weeks of travel, she sat so high and mighty as to "settle" for chocolate beer in Belgium at a world famous bar.
Wells sits next to her still rigid at the crowd with his hand clenched around a mug. Once he saw the beer selection, Bellamy had loosened up and now lounges in the seat with an arm slung across the back of the booth almost touching Raven's shoulder. Jasper, Harper, and Monty sit across from them chugging a mug each, competing for who would buy next round. Octavia is still full of herself from earlier and bounces between groups of people. She never settles on one long enough to rile Bellamy out his seat.
Clarke scans the bar and takes in the festive crowd. Her eye catches on another college aged group dressed in dark clothes and leather. One guy rivals the Hulk in muscle, the tendons of his neck wrapped like ropes down through his arms. One girl sits in the center and everyone appears to direct their comments towards her. Clarke struggles to look away from the girl. Even in the low lit, smoky bar, the girl maintains an air of regality. The girl's eyes suddenly lock with hers and give only a stone-cold glare. Clarke's eyes race back to her own group.
The second Clarke's eyes return to the table her mouth drops as she watches a man dressed as a genie begin dancing very closely behind a still sitting Harper. A few men surround the obviously blackout costumed genie wearing matching t-shirts. Clarke recognizes the guises of a bachelor party. Harper stiffens when he first grazes her shoulder. Her eyes meet Clarke's shocked expression and request explanation. Clarke has no response but stares in horror as the drunk genie dances more provocatively. Getting the hint, Harper whips her head around and grabs the first thing she can—the spout of a genie lamp placed in an insinuating location.
The man's entourage laughs when they see Harper's hand placement. Harper realizes what happened and immediately releases the lamp's shaft. Seeing the look of disgust on Harper's face gets a larger laugh out of the men. She looks up at the genies face and sees a goofy smile on his face and a glaze over his eyes. The man has no idea what was going on. She gives a scrunched up, forced smile to the genie before glaring at his aware friends. All put up their hands in mock surrender and offer apologies in what Clarke believes to be French. Bellamy steps in and tells the men to leave Harper alone. That's when they realize none of them speak English. The men all offer innocent smiles before getting the picture and leaving. Once gone, everyone just stares at each other then let out a collective roar of laughter. While it felt like forever, the whole encounter took less than a minute and Octavia is still on the same people from prior to the genie.
Hearing the commotion, Octavia bounds over to find out what she missed. They struggle through gasps of giggles to explain the costumed genie and his bachelor party. Octavia just nods not fully understanding until Raven points to the genie dancing at another table in the bar. It's now Octavia's turn to explode in laughter at the absurd situation. Octavia contains herself and begins gesturing to the group Clarke previously noticed. "They're from DCU! They speak English!" DCU Grounders were normally the Jaha Arkers' rivals but they were all as tired as Clarke of the constant language barrier.
Clarke gives another once over to the group of Grounders. It seemed like each one was tougher than the previous. She notices the beefy guy's eyes never falter from Octavia. The rest of cluster still gravitates around the one girl. The girl carries a presence in the assembly like a statue cut from marble reigning over the courts. "Come on guys! They're fri..." at that point Octavia tapers off searching for a word which truthfully fit the group. "American. They're American," she finishes.
Just as after the bachelor party left them, Clarke glances around the table to feel out everyone else's thoughts. Monty and Harper appear excited to meet more people. Jasper looks strangely fearful. Clarke recalls he had a bad encounter with a few Grounders at a robot battle competition of some sort. Bellamy and Wells retain their concerned faces from earlier. Everyone remains silent until Raven lets out, "What the hell? No harm in meeting them," and pushes herself up.
Though wound tight approaching the leather clad clan, Clarke can't help calming a bit when she understands the words flowing through relaxed conversation. The discussion slows now that the Arkers hover near their booth. Both sides remain still looking uncertainly at each other so Clarke takes the final step to stand at their table. Her eyes meet the icy girl's green. The undeniably gorgeous girl combs her green eyes up Clarke and her prior bored expression appears to falter. Clarke isn't quick enough to pick out the emotion which slipped through the now replaced mask.
Clarke braces herself and attempts to jumpstart the conversation. "Hey. Octavia said you go to DCU. We go to Jaha." The group blinks at her so she adds, "I'm Clarke."
She receives a few nods but mostly is greeted with silence. Thankfully, the man who appears enamored with Octavia steps up and offers, "I'm Lincoln." He indicates towards the striking girl Clarke's eyes refuse to keep away from, "This is Lexa." He lists off the rest of the names and each give a nod (one or two even crack a smile). During the introduction, the remaining Arkers gather closer to Clarke. After hearing all the names, Clarke's group offer a roll call themselves.
Normally, Clarke would have resorted to ordering a round of shots to break the ice but of course they were at the beer only bar. Octavia appears to be the ice pick tonight, though, squeezing into the booth next to Lincoln. "So, how long are you in Brussels?" The question works perfectly opening up the floor to the topic of each caravan's trip.
Clarke's uncertain if her position staring at Lexa is by default or unconscious maneuvering. The booth could only hold so many so the two groups spread across the bar. Monty, Jasper, and Harper continue their drinking games at a nearby table now joined by a few Grounders. Monty was often the one to approach the bar needing to purchase new rounds. Harper sometimes accompanied him offering sympathetic pats on the back. Octavia and Lincoln stand separately at a high top heads leaning into each other to hear. Bellamy sits on the edge of the original booth shooting warning daggers but not interfering. He holds a beer and sips not slowly. Raven sits next to him and a Grounder sits next to her. Wells has relaxed more with another beer in him and sits across talking to a pretty girl with thick brown hair. That had left one seat open which happened to be across from Lexa..
Lexa maintained her haughty attitude and messes with a knife on the table. Even looking down, Clarke knew Lexa lacks no confidence. Lexa had not acknowledged any of the Arkers since they sat down. Clarke attempts to join in Raven and the Grounder's conversation but after the words thermodynamics and electrolytes are thrown around casually she gives up. Though, Bellamy seems particularly fascinated taking in Raven's every word. Clarke takes advantage of Lexa's distraction to study her face and memorize her jawline. Clarke's frustration grows with Lexa's continued detachment. Annoyed, she refuses to allow herself to watch any longer and begins to draw designs on the table.
Without warning, Lexa snaps her head up and drills her eyes into Clarke. Clarke senses the movement and lifts her eyes to meet Lexa's. This time Clarke refuses to back down and stares right back. "You are empty," Lexa states.
Clarke gives her a questioning look so Lexa uses the knife to point at Clarke's glass. "Oh. Yeah, I guess so," Clarke's grateful for the break in silence but Lexa immediately returns to toying with the knife. As a result, an exasperated Clarke finds herself drawing on the table again.
She grows tired of not seeing her work and is grateful remembering the pencil stub in her pocket. She pulls it out and begins an actual sketch on the napkin. She hears someone approach but doesn't bother looking up. It's likely one of the beer Olympians returning to sulk or celebrate victory. She thinks about a refill but wants to add the finishing touches first.
"The Mona Lisa?" Clarke hears an unfamiliar voice ask over her shoulder.
She raises her eyes to see a very good looking man peering curiously at her designs. "Oh, just a doodle." She looks at her drawing and realizes the idle doodles had actually turned into a fairly intricate portrait of Lexa.
"I see." The man responds. Clarke's grateful the drawings light on the napkin and the man can (hopefully) not actually see it. He then continues, "Wait, it's her. I see the tattoo." The guy gestures towards Lexa and Clarke feels the blood rushing her face all the way to the tips of her ears. She avoids looking across the table knowing Lexa's green eyes will be on her in full force. Instead, her eyes return to the man looming above her.
"Can I buy you a drink?" He requests.
Finally, Clarke looks towards Lexa to see the brunette giving her a smug smirk. Clarke, annoyed with Lexa's arrogance, agrees and joins him on a walk to the bar. Her eyes never glance back to Lexa throughout the exchange.
The guy turns out to be more than smarmy. It slips into the conversation that he's over thirty—though never how far over thirty. The guy attempts to wave down a bar tender to order. A bit later his wife slips into the conversation. At that, Clarke returns to her seat with haste before he even catches a bar tender's attention.
In her hustle to the booth, she notices Lexa observing her with a steely stare. Once Clarke gets closer, Lexa eye brows twitch slightly as she studies Clarke's expression. Relaxing her previous stare, Lexa states, "He is good looking."
The statement shocks Clarke and she runs it in her brain multiple times to ensure she heard Lexa correctly—was Lexa actually…jealous? "I'm sure his wife thinks so too," Clarke answers.
Clarke watches Lexa's face transform as she attempts to stifle laughter. While no sounds break through, a smile slips onto Lexa's lips.
"May I see?" Lexa requests pointing to Clarke's napkin masterpiece. She had finally put down the knife and gestures with just her hand.
Clarke feels uncomfortable sharing her rendition of Lexa but knows she should share with the muse. She is shocked Lexa didn't just take a peek while she stood at the bar. She slides the napkin over to Lexa ignoring the heat sneaking up her neck. Clarke studies Lexa as Lexa studies Clarke's napkin Lexa.
"This is good, Clarke," Lexa finally says lifting her eyes back to Clarke with a slight light lift to her lips.
"It's nothing. Just a quick sketch. No big deal really. I do it a lot. I mean not sketch you just… doodle," Clarke forces her mouth shut to stop the rambling. An eruption of cheers pulls her eyes to the group playing drinking games. Monty's shoulders slump while a Grounder lifts Harper's fist in victory. Clarke laughs quietly with them.
When Clarke glances back to Lexa, she finds Lexa intently watching her. "You never got another drink," Lexa observes.
Clarke simply shrugs in response. Wasting more time talking to the creepy guy had not been worth a free beer. The conversation settles to a comfortable silence as the two watch their friend's antics. Bellamy's relaxed with his arm around Raven and his thumb unconsciously rubbing her shoulder. His eyes don't leave Raven's face as she continues her animated conversation with the Grounders though it has become less intelligent as the drinks piled up. Wells leans against the girl next to him as she giggles at something he whispers. Octavia and Lincoln snuck to a corner a while back as to go unseen by (Bellamy) their friends.
Clarke's eyes continue to wander until she notices Lexa stand. Lexa turns back to Clarke and offers, "May I buy you a drink?"
Clarke's surprised by the gesture but smiles and accepts. Lexa's hand lays tentatively on Clarke's back guiding her towards the bar. She raises a finger and immediately draws a bartender to her.
Rather than return to the booth, they find themselves lost in conversation at the bar. The continuing similarities between the girls shock them both. They both eat the outside of Oreos only and have a strange infatuation with soap operas. Neither can stand being hot and love hiking through the mountains near their schools.
It accidentally slips out that Clarke lost her father. Rather than the pity Clarke normally encounters, she feels a comfort from Lexa's eyes simply softening as she places a hand on Clarke's and admits to losing both her parents as well. The sounds of the bar surround their bubble as the two share their pain in moments of silence. Lexa raises her hand to order refills.
Clarke only realizes how much time passed when Monty approaches the bar for another refill. He stumbles over to them and can't form a coherent sentence. His glassy eyes fail to focus once on Clarke.
"I think you're done for now, bud," Clarke says corralling the boy away from ordering.
"But.. beer.. But.. buy for friends…" Monty tries to force out an explanation through uncooperative lips.
"They will understand," Lexa informs him as she hands him a cup of water. Even the bartenders fell under her commanding spell. Monty pouts though his eyes keep fluttering shut.
Clarke doesn't want to leave Lexa but knows she needs to get her friends back home. "How does a bed sound?" Clarke attempts.
A grin spreads across Monty's face as he nods enthusiastically and she takes him by the arm. She wanders the bar gathering everyone. Clarke purposely leaves Bellamy with Raven by the door before approaching Octavia in the dark corner glued to Lincoln.
After ensuring everyone's accounted for, Clarke returns to Lexa still standing at the bar. Clarke realizes she has no clue what to say. She takes a deep breath in preparation when Lexa leans close to her. Lexa's breath tickles Clarke's ear as she whispers, "May we meet again."
Moving away from her ear, Lexa presses her lips to Clarke's. Their lips melt together and move with familiarity. Clarke forces herself to remember where she is and whose watching. As they separate, Lexa pushes something into Clarke's hand.
Clarke looks over everyone peacefully passed out in the van—no hint of the prior night's chaos. Octavia and Jasper on the floor head to head with her hand placed on his cheek. Wells curled into himself laying on a two seat row. Raven spread out across the four seat back row. Monty's head rests on Harper's shoulder with her head atop his. Everyone else just sits upright in their seats asleep. Clarke's eye catches the only other person aware, Bellamy. His head nods once to her as if to signify a night well done. Clarke smiles at him with a slight roll of the eyes and turns back to watching the Belgium countryside pass. She runs a finger over the phone number added to her napkin drawing of Lexa and her smile grows.
