"Well I know that getting you alone isn't easy to do
But with the exception of you I dislike everyone in the room
And I don't wanna lie but I don't wanna tell you the truth
Get the sense that you're on the move and you'll probably be leaving soon
So I'm telling you
Stop the world cause I wanna get off with you."
Stop the World (I wanna get off with you) -Arctic Monkeys

This wasn't a place that Clarke generally saw herself in. The lights, the people, the music; it was all becoming too much. She could hear the ice clinking against the glass in her hand before she could feel herself shaking. Taking one long, deep breath, Clarke pushed through the bodies of the party-goers and found her way to a small, empty corner table. The red dress she donned for Octavia's Christmas party was constricting as she eased down into a fold out chair. Clarke could have rather been locked away inside her research facility with her bacterium and Petri dishes; anything other than enduring a lonely night out while all of her friends danced with their significant others in blissful happiness.

She sipped easily at the glass of Vodka in her hand careful not to overdo it this year like she had last year. The infamous Christmas Party of 2013, it had been deemed. Clarke had been all for a night out dancing with her best friends, Raven and Octavia, after she and her boyfriend had ended their relationship a week before the holidays, and what better place than the annual Blake Christmas Party? She had come dressed to impress with a new found sense of confidence in a tight, mid-thigh length black dress. Clarke grimaced at the thought of the ruined garment that she'd paid so much for and had loved so much. Once she'd seen Finn walk into the room on the arm of her best friend, Raven, she had felt the depression set in and had found a permanent seat at the open bar.

Clarke only vaguely remembered getting home. Octavia had found her nearly passed out at the bar and had called her brother to take her home. She couldn't remember his name or really what he had looked like, but she could remember his smell; a mix of fresh earth and leather. That smell had followed her around for a whole year and now, with all these people moving to and fro around her, she hadn't caught even the slightest of the scent she longed for. After that fateful night, Clarke had resided herself to no more alcohol and no more men, so she had begun to work tirelessly in her research lab from daylight until dark. It wasn't much of a life, she knew that, but it kept her occupied and kept her mind off of her own loneliness.

A spritely brunette came bouncing into Clarke's view and sat down in front of her. "Clarke," Octavia said cheerily. "I'm so glad you could make it this year!"

Clarke forced a smile and tucked a fallen blond curl behind her ear. "Me too, Octavia," she said, dropping her eyes from Octavia's. "Hopefully this year I can manage to stay upright."

Octavia clasped her hand around Clarke's and squeezed lightly. "Don't beat yourself up over that, Clarke," she said. "I would have done the same thing. Just lucky that Bellamy had been the only sober one here to take you home."

Bellamy. Finally, Clarke had a name to tag onto the smell she'd envisioned so many times. Clarke laughed easily and took another sip of her drink, masking the expression on her face with contentment rather than longing. "Yeah, I guess so," she said as she watched Octavia rise from her seat. Her friend was beautiful; dark hair and even darker eyes, features that Clarke found herself wondering if she shared with her brother. Unnerved once again by her sudden change in thoughts, Clarke shook her head of them before draining the glass in her hand.

"How about we dance?" She took Octavia's hand without waiting on an answer and pulled her onto the dance floor. Their bodies swayed together with the beat of the music and the invigoratingly sweet scent of warm bodies next to them. Clarke couldn't recognize anyone around them. They were most likely people that only Octavia knew or people who wanted to know her. Clarke's mouth spread wide in a smile that lit up her blue eyes and she found herself actually enjoying the party for the first time since she'd arrive an hour ago.

When the song had ended and Clarke had begun to feel the buzz from her earlier drinks, something she was now chastising herself over, she found a seat at the bar and held her swirling head in her hands. So, this is what being drunk felt like, she thought. I had almost forgotten.

Hearing the squeaking of the chair next to her, Clarke lifted her head to see the very person she had hoped to avoid. She knew he would be here, but to see him in the flesh was something totally different. His soft brown hair that she'd ran her fingers through many times, lips that she'd kissed, hands that she'd held, arms that had held her; it was becoming too much. She began to push herself from the chair when a warm, soft hand caught hold of her forearm.

"Clarke, wait," he said softly.

She sighed, knowing that she couldn't be mad when he spoke to her like that, but the pit in her stomach grew larger as she thought of what had happened between them. "Finn," she said his name sadly, "I can't do this. Not now."

"I need to talk to you though," he said, pleading with her. "I ended things with Raven."

Clarke couldn't help the small flicker of excitement that flowered in her chest. "You broke my heart, Finn," she said, pulling her arm free of his grasp. "I can't just forget about what happened. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Clarke didn't offer him a last look before she took off through the crowd for the bathroom. She hoped she wasn't too tipsy to climb the stairs. Shoulders bumped roughly into her, knocking her off balance. She regretted the heels the moment she felt herself tipping backwards off the first step. Clamping her eyes shut, she waited for the impact, but it never happened. Suddenly, she enveloped in a familiar scent; fresh earth and leather.

Bellamy. The moment of their next meeting had played over and over in her mind, but she never imagined that it would once again happen with her being inebriated and with her mascara no doubt smudged over her eyelids. His hands were gentle as they wrapped easily around her waist and his arms were strong, taut under her weight, but his face gave no indication of the effort. Bellamy smirked at her and she felt his arm tighten around her waist before she was pushed upright.

"Looks like you're up to your old tricks again," he said, taking in her appearance. Clarke couldn't help but stare at him. He was handsome, far more than she expected with his dark hair and chocolate eyes. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed thickly.

Clarke laughed nervously. "Bellamy, is it? I don't think we had a proper introduction last time," she said, sticking out her hand. "Clarke Griffin."

He took it gently. "Bellamy Blake," he said, smiling at her. "Have you seen my sister around? I need to find her."

"Oh!" Clarke bit her lip as she searched the dance floor for her former partner, but she couldn't see her. "She was just with me," she said, mostly to herself. Clarke turned back toward Bellamy and shrugged. "You might try the kitchen. She was in there earlier with Lincoln, I think."

The smile fell from Bellamy's face and his eyes hardened. "I see," he said. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Clarke Griffin."

He offered her one last glance and pushed past her toward the kitchen, leaving Clarke with a warm feeling inside her and a tingling sensation on her hand in the shape of his own.