Prompt from sadgirlokay on tumblr: "My friend thought you were cute so she tried to take a picture of you for snapchat and her flash went off but when you looked our way she shoved her phone into my hands and nOW YOU THINK IT'S ME AND OH GOD PLS DON'T BE MAD"
Also, just so you all know, the explicit chapters of this collection are posted on my AO3 account if you want to check them out. There's a link in my profile, and you don't need an account to read, give kudos, or comment!
Clarke's got her nose in a paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice while she waits in line with Raven at the campus bookstore. It's the first week of the new spring quarter and there's a line of students wrapping throughout the whole building and down the stairs, all of them hoping beyond hope that they'll get through the check-out line before they're late for their next class.
Clarke ordered her textbooks from the cheaper online vendors weeks ago, but Raven guilted her into accompanying her to the bookstore when she reminded Clarke that she had ditched their spring break plans.
("I had the flu!" Clarke had protested.
Raven didn't care.
"You want me to remind you who took your spot in the group, Clarke?"
"Not really," Clarke had said, "considering you already complained about him to me for the last five hours."
"Kyle Wick, Clarke. I had to hike in the woods with Wick. For days."
"And Sterling, and Mel, and a bunch of our other friends," Clarke reminded her.
"And Wick," Raven had snarled, color high in her cheeks.)
They've been in line for nearly an hour, and thankfully they're almost at the front, but Clarke's not all that sure why Raven insisted she come along. The other girl has been preoccupied with something on her phone basically the entire time they've been waiting together––she hasn't even yelled at Clarke about reading a book while they're supposed to be hanging out.
"Clarke!" Raven hisses. "Look at how hot that cashier is!"
Clarke glances up from Mr. Darcy's first ill-mannered meeting with Elizabeth Bennet, follows Raven's not-so-discreet pointing. The guy she's indicating is pretty cute, all tan skin and dark messy hair and bone structure Clarke would love to sketch. But…
"He'd be cuter if he took that nasty look off his face," she replies, and returns to her book as they shuffle forward in line. There are only a couple people in between them and the check-out stands, and even as Clarke watches the second, nicer-looking cashier waves them forward.
"Hey, stand in front of me a little, okay?" Raven says, shoving lightly at Clarke until she sighs and moves up a little. "Wick is going to be pissed when I snapchat a picture of this guy to him."
Raven stands behind Clarke to hide as she takes the shot, and Clarke frowns.
"Wait," Clarke begins, "why are you snapchatting Kyle if you're still so pissed about going hiking with him––?"
Raven's phone takes the picture with a blindingly bright flash just as the hot cashier starts to turn toward them, gesturing for the next customer.
"Shit," Raven squeaks, and drops the stack of textbooks she's been waiting to purchase; just before the cashier looks directly at them, she shoves her phone at Clarke, who barely manages to catch it in her hands.
"Next," the cashier bites out, now glaring at her, and Clarke gulps, all-too-aware of the phone she's still holding in her hands.
Raven hurriedly finishes grabbing her books and heads for him, and Clarke trails after her, nervously tapping the phone against her book.
Her friend dumps her supplies on the counter and the cashier automatically starts to scan the books, but he won't stop glaring at Clarke. To avoid his gaze, she looks down at the phone in her hand. It's started to dim, but it's not locked, and a quick tap has the screen brightening again. Clarke immediately swipes over to the messages app, and her earlier suspicions are confirmed––the most recent conversation is between Raven Reyes and Kyle Wick.
She snorts, tapping the phone so she can snoop around in their conversation while Raven pays for her supplies.
"Delete that," a low voice demands hotly, and Clarke glances up. The hot, angry looking cashier is still directing his lethal gaze straight at her.
"Delete what?" she echoes. Raven's digging around in her wallet for her debit card, but Clarke notices her movements slow as she takes in the standoff happening between Clarke and the cashier.
"I saw the flash," he retorts. "I'm not an idiot. Delete the picture of me you just took."
She's vaguely aware of Raven slowly swiping her card through the machine and starting to load her books into her backpack, but she can't look away from the guy.
His name-tag reads Bellamy B, and angry is, unfortunately, a really good look for him. He's leaning forward over the counter, glaring at her, and now that he's up close and personal she suddenly notices the freckles that are dusted all over his face and down his neck. She wonders if all of his skin is freckled, or if not, how far down they go.
"I didn't take a picture of you," she denies, and he raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah? Then let me see your phone." He holds out his hand expectantly. Clarke opens her mouth and turns to tell Raven to explain, but Raven's disappeared. She can just make out Raven's dark ponytail ducking out of the bookstore.
Seriously, Raven?
"Um," Clarke says, a blush blooming in her cheeks as she tries to remember if Raven had actually managed to take the picture. But she had left the app too quickly, and she has no idea what he'll find if she hands the phone over.
So instead, she tries to explain.
"Well, you see, I didn't take a picture of you. My friend did."
"Your friend?" His voice is skeptical. "Right."
"No, it's true!" she says. "She was the one who just bought all of the engineering textbooks. This is her phone. See?" Clarke holds up Raven's phone so he can see what the protective case says: Get in losers, we're going to do science.
"I'm terrible at science," she adds earnestly, and waves her novel at him. "I almost failed chemistry in high school. Clarke Griffin: Books. Art. That's me. No science. Honestly, what even is science? I don't even know."
For the first time, he cracks a smile, and the way it transforms his face––well, if Clarke would have loved to draw him scowling, she just might kill to draw him smiling. She smiles hesitantly back.
"Well, Clarke Griffin––" he starts to say, but he's interrupted.
"Get a room or get going, blondie!"
They both turn and look back at the line of students; an irritated-looking guy with a frat t-shirt, red eyes, and a greenish complexion is the next in line, and he's motioning at them to hurry up.
"We've all got shit to buy," he says. Clarke decides that Bellamy B. is really the only one who can pull off an attractive scowl; this other guy just looks constipated as well as hungover.
"Can I see that phone now?" Bellamy B. asks abruptly, ignoring Frat Guy. Clarke looks at him in surprise––does he really care about the snapchat thing?––but hands it over.
But all he does is press the home button so that the phone lights up.
"Three o'clock," he says in a satisfied tone, and hands it back to her. "My shift is over."
He pulls off the name tag and shoves it in his pocket, grabs his phone and wallet from where they were apparently stashed under the counter, and then calls over his shoulder to the harried girl he was working with.
"Maya, I'm out! You good here?"
A chorus of angry mutters erupt from the waiting line as they realize one of the two cashiers on duty is about to leave, but the other girl just waves him away.
"Get out of here before they riot, Blake," she says. "Jasper's going to be here in fifteen."
Clarke watches as he nods and hops over the counter instead of lifting up the divider and walking out like a normal person. He lands right in front of her, and he seems even taller when he's this close.
"You should probably head out, too, Clarke Griffin, or they might just burn you at the stake," he tells her. "Luring me away from my post and all."
Clarke raises her eyebrows. "I'm luring you away?"
(It's not that she would mind luring him, now that he's not snarling at her and is actually still looking at her with that smile she likes so much. She just hasn't made the effort yet.)
"Absolutely," he tells her. "Probably to the coffee shop, so we can talk about why you have your friend's phone, and about books and art and not-science."
"Oh, really?" she says, unable to keep the grin from her face or the pink from her cheeks.
"That's just the vibe I'm getting," Bellamy replies. "I could be wrong, though." He looks a little nervous, and if Angry-Bellamy is hot, and Smiling-Bellamy is divine, Nervous-Bellamy is downright adorable.
"No," Clarke says. "I think you're probably right."