The sun streaming through the large windows of the art room blasted Clarke blind.
Her head thudded of monstrous scale as she held her forehead from her forearm rested on the table.
She had thought a second prior that perhaps removing her shades wouldn't be too drastic of an idea and she was wrong.
That's right. Clarke Griffin was wrong. She was happy to admit it, too. If it meant she could seal the dark lenses back over her violated corneas.
Which it did and Octavia howled with laughter as she returned the sunglasses.
On this occasion, O was allowed in the Art room as the teacher was away and there was no substitute.
This meant the class was basically cancelled but most serious art students would appear during the designated hour and use their time wisely as they normally would under supervision. Clarke would normally note how she appreciated her fellow passionate artists but not today.
Today was strong, boiling coffee and lots of carbs.
Last night was a haze of vodka being spilled through the crotch of her black jeans, chainsmoking out on the veranda within record time and being slapped on the back for making a positive impression through the sport of beerpong.
Her nails picked at the masking tape that had her name scribbled over it in sharpie on the cover of her art diary.
Octavia only watched over her severely hungover friend with amusement forming on her face in a smirk.
The brunette was younger so her body processed alcohol quicker. And it helped that Lincoln not only got her to eat and drink a large glass of water but he managed to get her to have 2 aspirin before she passed out for the night. She looked to her left at her boyfriend in smitten appreciation.
He caught his girlfriends gaze after a moment of lingering and a small smile graced his features as he asked "What?" innocently.
"I love you" Octavia smoothed out trying not to make a scene of affection but beaming nevertheless.
Clarkes arms slipped off the table and slapped down by her sides as she uttered a "Don't make me barf"
Her forehead creased in worry as she feared her own words.
"Oh shut up, Clarke" Octavia scolded at which Clarke winced at her friends volume. Lincoln chuckled at the exchange from either side of him.
The blonde threw open her art diary it landed on a page at half the content of the pages. One of the first few sketches of the girl at the cafe.
Octavia noticed the change on her best friends face and jolted to tear the book of artworks from the artist.
"No!" Clarke shrieked as Octavia moved just a second faster.
"Is this her?" O began what the blonde could only imagine to be an interrogation of sorts. She was always the one to need the info, the gossip. Any scrap of drama she could snatch from her best friends mouths she relished in. Perhaps she was the Queen bee in another life.
Clarke only groaned before landed her forehead on the art table top.
"Wow, she's stunning." Octavia comments breathlessly. Passing a fingertip over the now water coloured drawing Clarke did of the girls eyes.
"Your admiration sure does give the art a little extra, Princess" O teased, briefly looking at the pencil work of a sitting pose in the corner of the first artwork Clarke made of the Latte girl.
Lincoln furrowed his brow in thought at Clarkes illustrations and glanced off to the side for a moment before giving his head a shake and relaxing his face.
Octavia noticed the shift in her boyfriend and questioned accordingly "What's up?"
He breathed looking up to meet her gaze, feign surprise. "Oh nothing." He dismissed before taking a sip of the coffee he brought to class.
Octavia eyed him for a moment longer in suspicion but continued on admiring her best friends expressed talent on the pages of her book.
"I think you should ask her out." Octavia mentioned over a bite of pasta.
"What." Clarke replied trying to allow her gulp of soda to settle. Her hand lightly touching her collarbone as she arched her neck some, refusing the feeling of reflux.
"Yeah, what?" Raven added from further down the lunch table, even more in the dark about the unfolding of Clarkes crush.
"I'm just saying, if you like her then I think you should give her a try." Octavia suggested, not meeting either of their eyes with a shrug of her shoulders.
Her pasta must be so interesting.
"O, she's probably straight." Clarke reminded in defense.
"The girl from the cafe?" Raven butted in with a wave of her spork. Still trying to catch up to the content of discussion.
"If you ask her out, you'll find out won't you?" Octavia replied ignoring Raven.
"The chances are so skewed and even if she was gay I doubt i'd be in the few she'd probably aim to be with."
A silence hung over the table as the young Blake finished chewing, deep in thought on how to respond.
"And what if she's not single?" Clarke wheezed out, her mind crowded with the numerous anomalies in how asking the mystery girl could go sour.
"Then ask her on a platonic date? Maybe being her friend is the safest approach." Raven replied in place of Octavia who only nodded towards her encouragingly.
"Exactly. Give her your number. Great suggestions, Raven." Octavia closed her eyes in thanks. Treating the conversation of Clarkes crush as if it were a class discussion of a novel.
"I'm not doing that. She'd probably take it in offense and never return." Clarke answered, the scenarios playing through her head.
"All you can do is try" Raven finished, keeping her eyes down on her plate of food. Managing the final word into the heated discussion.
Clarke was left for her own thoughts on the suggestions her friends sprouted to stew as she stared into the open cup of her soda.
Neon orange, carbonation rising to the top just to burst. Just like all the excitement of seeing the stranger at the cafe burst as she didn't have anything to say to her and she seemed to avoid Clarke as much as possible while remaining in her presence.
She sipped the zesty tangy and sweet beverage up into her mouth. Zoning out as the remainder of her friends begin to converse about classes they've had, strange student run ins, teachers that are rad, what have you.
Clarke thought blindly on the topic of the girl who stole most of her attention. Precious attention she needed to use elsewhere for productive purposes.
All this girl got her to do was draw and paint. Not anything but her.
It annoyed the blonde. Got under her skin within the few encounters they'd shared together in the cafe where she worked. The seething thing she disliked most was how she awaited the girl every shift. There wasn't a way in hell Clarke was about to ask Bellamy or Monte if the cute tall tan girl had come in for a latte. Her primary friendship circle knew now and she already dreaded any time they were to mention it.
Stupid drunk Clarke and her terrible ideas to blab about anything personal.
Her blue eyes watched the transparent outline of her ice clash into one another at the center of the drink where she got a tap on her shoulders.
"Clarke?" Octavia asked, face contorted in worry for her friend.
"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?" Clarke encouraged for more information. Being pulled from her minds rambling was startling.
"We were thinking about going to the movies this evening, wanna come?" Raven pitched again, though she made it sound like the first time.
"Oh no, I really have to crack down on my art assessment. You have a great time though." She said with a smile.
"Try not to circle your whole art career around one girl, loverboy" Octavia poked with a smirk as she rose alongside the others.
Clarke tried to smile in return, knowing O's comment was a joke. In all seriousness her inspiration had her worried. She wore the same grimace all the way to the art room.
Clarke had crashed hard that evening. Raven hadn't been in so she hadn't gotten to almost talk about how she totally is making her assessment piece of the cafe girl.
She was going to change up several things about her though, despite her wanting to recreate the girls fresh face as identically to the original as she could.
Then it'd be a portrait and Clarke figured that'd be far too unsettling to do of a random stranger that had been the object of her gaze several times.
It invaded the blondes integrity to think about intruding on someones privacy.
In Clarkes mind, if she could take the girls image but evolve it into something else, it wouldn't be weird.
Turn the girl into a being threatening, war torn and scarred. A creature of the apocalypse that burned for peace. At least that's what the essay following the art piece would say.
The girl would be caked in red and murky smudges of dirt, her eyes framed by dark black soot to distort her breathtaking elegance beneath the facade.
Although she had made large progress, it was a large canvas and there was still so much to do. Colours to blend, things to touch up, lights and darks needed to be emphasized for the dramatic effect it needed to have. A light source coming from an angle away but also behind the face. A lot of work remained to be done.
She had done a couple sketches of what the new version of her character would look like, different angles, what she wanted to finished product to look like.
Clarke preyed it'd come together in the end as they assessment pieces were to be showcased and auctioned off. A portion of the money would go to the artists pockets but the bulk would help fund the art supplies and stock.
The blonde had stomped exhausted up the stairs of the building and threw her homes door open wide before barreling into her bed.
When she awoke few things became apparent to her within the few minutes her eyes strained open.
She had fallen asleep in her painters smock, which was a large mens shirt that had remnant oil and acrylic paints splotched all over.
The second being she was late for her shift at the cafe.
She barely scrounged enough time to brush her teeth before she bolted from the dorm. Her layered coat over the smock, a hair tie at her wrist, pants unzipped but buttoned to stay taut around her hips and her boots laces whipping around slapping the pavement as she hauled ass to her job several blocks away.
The blondes hair streamed behind her as her thighs burned, there was someone who in contrast to Clarkes strenuous workout, appeared to dawdle down the sidewalk.
Clarke zipped in front of them swiftly, almost losing her footing up the gutter.
One more corner. She hissed through her teeth at the fact, so close.
The door chimed overhead as gasped for breath, the few patrons already seated in the warm cafe glanced at her in shock.
She made her way down the middle of both halves of the store to the back room, where she tucked the oversized shirt into her pants as best she could to make it appear a normal blouse. Tied up her boot laces, shrugged off her coat and placed it over her back as per usual, secured her apron to behind her back and combed her hands through her hair in efforts to smooth the disheveled sex look. She settled for a hairstyle of half up, half down. Made her look like she knew what she was doing, yeah.
Phew.
She only managed to be 4 minutes late and despite Bellamy wanting to scold her for being reckless, he was utterly impressed with the distance she covered in such a small time frame. Clarke hated running. Worst function her body could perform. Only partook when utterly necessary.
She released one last large breath before composing herself and making her way to the barista stand.
The chime went off at the front of the store, gathering Clarkes attention.
The mystery girl entered in sports shorts, knee high socks and sneakers, A light grey tank top falling loosely off her smooth exposed shoulders revealing the straps of a dark blue sports bra and a chiseled collar bone. A duffel bag slung off her strong shoulder with a hockey stick jutted out from the zipper
Her cheeks were tinged pink and her forehead shone in the dim lighting of the cafe interior.
The brunette placed her duffel bag beside table 4 and walked back over to the bench.
Clarke stood like a deer in headlights as the girl of her attention approached to order.
A tan hand passed through the locks to the side of her cheek, pulling it out in a mesmerizing silken slide of the girls fingers.
The blonde was paralyzed, mouth agape, glancing back into the opposing girls eyes.
They were deeper green, a shadowed forest green, that impaled her. The girl pursed her lips as she looked at Clarke.
"I'd like a tall latte" the girl said, her eyes narrowing only a fraction as if sizing the blonde up.
Clarkes chipped nail polish fingers worked the screen as she only half paid attention to the process.
"That comes to-"
"$4.15." The brunette finished, raising her hand into Clarkes line of vision. The same 4 dollar notes and a quarter pinched flat against them.
The barista extended her hand for the cash before a quick glance back up into green as the customer uttered a "Keep the change."
Clarke noticed something. The girls lips quivered a fraction upward at the sides of her mouth. Did that matter? Mean something even?
The blonde couldn't be certain it wasn't wishful thinking, though that interaction was tense. She shook the thought out of her head.
She retrieved the nickel of change and arranged it on a saucer and began preparing the latte for the girl at table 4.
Clarke approached table 4, the brunette had her laptop out as usual. The barista removed a fresh serviette from her apron pocket and placed it orderly beneath the designated area for the saucer.
The customer didn't have her earphones in at all today, nodding up to meet Clarkes eyes with a "Thank you."
The artist was at a loss on how to evaluate their interactions now. "It's my pleasure." Clarke replied smoothly with a small smile before retreating back into her station.
She combed over the environment of the cafe, the seated customers were served and talking among themselves as people do in company.
Stealthily she retrieved her phone from her back pocket, pulling up her messages to the younger Blake.
I don't know.
What?
She's paying attention to me today
The girl at the cafe?
Yeah.
Then go for it!
I can't she's more stunning in person, O.
How is that possible, Clarke.
Clarke looked up from her phone screen to table 4. Seeing green eyes flicker back to the brunettes laptop.
I don't know, believe me.
God, you're truly out the deep end, Griffin.
Shh. She sent, letting out a defeated sigh. Before her eyes widened in dinner plate fashion.
Don't tell Bellamy.
I'll make no such promises, Princess.
Clarke hissed out a second sigh through her teeth. Still uncertain whether telling Octavia was beneficial in any way.
Break came eventually and the girl at table 4 clacked her fingertips over her keyboard as usual.
Clarke shed her apron and perched atop her favourite stool at the front left of the store. Although her attention was nevertheless brought into the interior, to the figure who only seemed to replicate the warm tones the lights provided. Glowing on her side of the space, Clarke sketched the girls outline and smudged the lead for deeper tones. Shading in the space around the object of the piece, making her pop from the page.
Clarke penciled in the lines of the surroundings, creating perspective of the angle.
She sighed, turning away to face out the large window.
This girl was consuming her. Chewing her up through the details and the small things she did. Clarke was being a creep, she knew it.
She closed her art diary, feeling suffocated by her own terrible inspiration. She strut her way back to the backroom and stuffed her book inside her canvas bag.
Spending the remaining minutes of her break in the backroom, trying to reconstruct her approach to her art objective.
The latte girl departed with one last mutually held gaze Clarkes way before walking down the sidewalk past the large open windows of the shop. Never looking in once.
Clarkes shift wrapped up in the few hours following. She took it upon herself during that period of time to clear table 4 and wipe down other previously used tables.
In clearing table 4, she noticed a dark maroon jumper beside the table?
She couldn't see it from the barista station as the table top hid it completely.
The blonde put the jumper the right way through itself. It had 'Captain' in white lettering on the back and a familiar logo for a college just out of state.
She plays hockey for the Grounders for college trikru? Clarke put together in her head.
The blonde bunched the sweater in her canvas bag and made her way back to her dorm.
Clarke burst through the door, hanging up her coat and bag.
Raven perched at her desk with the lamp heating her engineering papers, a cup of noodles steamy beside her.
"What's up?" Raven asked, not drawing attention from her task at hand.
"I found out she's from out of town."
"That's rough." The genius replied with only a hint of sympathy. "So you properly spoke to her?"
Clarkes muffled groan came from the second bed in the room.
"Clarke, did you talk to her?"
"I didn't, okay?" The blonde used her feet to slide her boots from her heels. "I know she's from out of town because I collected her hockey sweater for Trikru college she accidentally left behind at the cafe."
"That's good, now you have a topic to break the ice when you return it to her."
"I'l keep that in mind." Clarke gurgled, feeling defeated by fate.
Her evening ended there, slightly less dressed than she was upon entering the dorm. A thin sheet thrown over her torso horizontally. This fact her brain couldn't fathom in the middle of the night, so she spent the entire period from 1 in the morning to 3:25 am struggling to stretch a sheet in ways it was never intended for.
Raven snorted from across the room at the fidgety and very frustrated Griffin. Blood shot eyes revealed to her the blonde breathlessly cursing at her own unconscious predicament.
Reyes crossed the space that separated the two halves of the dorm and, with the last of her strength from her final coffee an hour prior, raised the thicker mass of duvet up and over her best friend.
'Jesus, Clarke. You need all the help you can get.'
Clarke had arrived for work the following morning 20 minutes earlier of her shift. This being due to her sleep being interrupted by Reyes pacing through her half of the dorm, muttering about programming and code. Her whispering only grew more furious as she repeatedly slapped her palm to her forehead, as if to condition herself to know her entire cheat sheet. A cheat sheet all coded in genius abbreviation Raven had formulated the day earlier.
The blonde wasn't in the slightest amused about this, though she figured she could turn one wrong into a right that morning.
'Early bird catches the worm, right?' She phrased to herself internally.
Griffin entered the premises and ordered a coffee over the counter. Bellamy only smirked at her as she shrugged off her reasons for being early as he had pitched the possibility of her cleaning for an extra quarter hour.
"I'm not cleaning anything unless there's a sweet paycheck in tow, Bell." She said through a thin grimace, her eye brows raised for the hairline.
"Can I fire staff for being reasonable?" He asked rhetorically with squinted eyes and a ridiculous pout of faux thought.
She shrugged and let out a light laugh "This land of the free ain't that free." A tight smile graced her face as her brows lowered into regular stance.
He returned a toothy grin before finishing up processing the transaction on the touch screen. He moved out of sight behind the espresso machine to fix her order.
Her fingers fiddled with small oblong shapes of collected material lint deep against the seam in her jacket pockets. She turned from the counter and looked into the isolated white of outside. It'd been a frosty morning. Dew that'd turned autumn leaves a sodden brown hardened into delicate icicles around the perimeter of the leaves. Potholes that'd accumulated rain had glazed over with a sheet of ice. Her nose along with the apples of her cheeks lost blood flow and tinted pink. And it was only Autumn.
She had seated herself off to the middle left of the store. The cafe was dead on Saturdays which meant she had more choice on where to settle. On any other day she'd mention how being in the center of a room makes her feel vulnerable and awkward. Being the center meant she objectively wouldn't get to observe the majority of the environment.
This meant her 'surroundings' were always closer to 'the world before Clarke Griffin'.
Clarke hummed as Bellamy approached with her steaming cappuccino. Her coworkers were never shy with the cocoa powder ever since her own example of assault that one time.
Her brain sighed at the memory, still able to smell the milk that had dried on her that day. Today wasn't the sort where she'd chuckle at the absurdity of the situation she found herself in that fateful shift.
The eldest Blake gave a nod as he sent down the drink and went on with his duties as supervisor.
Clarke stirred an additional sugar into her mug of coffee. Knowing Bellamy knew she'd always have two in her typical order but today she'd wanted a large.
She had the time on her hands to savor it.
The metal spoon disturbed the chocolate dust and combined it all into a pleasant aroma.
She breathed the scent from the mug, feeling the steamy caffeine energize right down to her toes.
Clarke had taken a sip. Thinking to the foreign sweater in her very familiar canvas bag.
It had been weird she had taken the article of clothing home with her, yes. She grimaced at the thought. Why is it some people just evoke the creep from within?
The blonde frowned further at her past actions.
Dammit, this was meant to be a tranquil start to the day.
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, bringing her hands to her face to remove remnants of sleep from her eyes.
Anything to avoid the crazy person she was inside, at least for a moment. No matter how brief.
An entire song had faded into the next and still she remained sitting on her lonesome, half a coffee down with her dimpled chin rested in her hand.
The entrance chimed to her left as she stopped biting a nail out of habit and glanced to the figure arriving.
Pale blue eyes recognized the first shape- er, being.
it was the latte girl Clarke had awaited out of genuine intrigue rather than her own logical intention.
She felt an uncharacteristic surge of bitterness at how this one customer had modified her place of work into a one-sided tense ordeal she drowned in turmoil over.
This was followed by guilt at how strong and unusual her moods shifted within seconds of an immediate presence.
The latte girl had turned her face from whomever was in tow and their eyes connected within an instant.
The previous small smile the brunette sported became sealed into an expression of familiarity, but indifference, as her green eyes remained as unwavering as ever.
Clarke only drank in the familiar presence.
What she wore- A hooded coat that was lined in fur trim, it's colour a burnt burgundy.
Beneath appeared to be a pale mint green sweater and a white dress shirt even father beneath that. Clarke only assumed this from the white collar that hugged the brunettes slender neck. Her hair cascaded down her left shoulder in a mass of small braids and curls. The light green from her eyes always reversed the girls image from downright dominating to something softer. The combination of white shirt and green sweater brought out her eyes further. She was almost a friend, almost kind, almost daring Clarke to try her.
A whirlwind of emotion made the hurricane shutters of Clarkes feelings slam every which way, igniting a chain reaction that only filled her head with a fog.
Her mind stalled when the latte girl strode her long high waisted black jean-clad legs past the blonde and blue eyes observed the individual in tow of the first.
This woman was narrow in the face with high cheekbones. An even shape from the bridge of her nose to the tip. Harsh eyes and a hard look to her.
Her hair was a dirty blonde and her gaze bit into Clarke like a ravenous wolf of winter.
Clarke knew it sounded dramatic on her end but this woman was threatening and she couldn't pinpoint why this was.
The narrow-faced woman wore a similar fur-fringed coat; hers was a dull green and the fur was agouti. The blonde had a better glimpse as she followed past her table.
Clarke raised the mug to her lips and tried to not be disappointed at the chilled portion of her coffee.
She would've appreciated the disappointment if it had distracted her from the girl who soaked up every half of each thought Clarke could scrape together on a good day.
Now all she was doing was gulping down the last of barely warm coffee and noticing the undissolved sugar grains that tumbled unmercifully down her throat.
As the latte girl stood in front of the bench, facing Bellamy who had his best infectious grin on, not returning any pleasantries to the staff.
Clarke stifled a dark laugh. One she wasn't sure was out of amusement of how cold the girl she crushed so foolishly hard on or if it was how much she too had attempted to encourage the girl to be socially fluent in cues. So fruitlessly, too. Clarke sank alongside her dampened spirits.
Why did she have such high expectations for a stranger? That's absurd.
Despite all murky, displeased and conflicted emotions were streaming through her, she found herself clicking her ballpoint pen into function and sketching the back/side of the girl in the red coat on her serviette. Capturing the volume of the customers brunette waves and the lines of this particular angle of her face. She added a few creases to the coat and the knees of her jeans. A small roughly lined shadow beneath the girl on the napkin, she hummed as the ink flowed from her hand to accurately depict the customer.
Clarke had finished her scribble fest as the two tan women retreated to table 4, not so far away from the blondes current position.
As they sat, Griffin rose. Collecting her bag from the floor and securing the dish in her hand to wash up her mug in the small minutes before her shift.
The napkin folded and slipped into the pocket of her coat.
She hung up her coat and left her sweater on. It was a neutral temperature throughout the cafe so it didn't particularly matter how many layers remained on her back.
Blue eyes passed over her canvas bag as she saw the radiant crimson glow from the sweater concealed within her bag against the interior.
She chewed her bottom lip. There was no way she was going to strike up a conversation with the brunette now. She had company and it might come off as rude to break into their shared time together.
That was another thing. Clarke had no idea what the nature of the bond between the two was. Cousins? Siblings? Friends? Coworker associate? Drug dealer?
The blonde snorted at the last pitch. Then, upon recalling the magnitude of the green coated womans gaze, second guessed the joke.
She shook the idea from her head. Get a hold of yourself, Griffin.
Then, when she had finished tying her apron around her waist, looked over to the two seated. They were immersed in conversation, Clarke assumed.
Though neither really seemed to open their mouths too much as they spoke. The blonde scrunched her brows together at the minimalist nature of the two.
A thought struck her and she took a single step backwards to the back room.
Closeted lesbian couple on a date.
Clarke felt her heart seize a fraction off beat. She didn't know what to make of this half assumption, half product of her rapid-fire caffeinated brain.
They weren't causing a ruckus because they're together. Why did that make so much sense.
At least she's gay, opportunist Clarke weighed in. Stroking her metaphorical beard.
Shut up, we don't know that. Logic Clarke fired back.
"What was that?"
The artist looked up in startle, meeting the very present gaze of her supervisor, Bellamy Blake.
"What?"
He closed his eyes and shook his head softly at the floor, looking amused though utterly confused. Perhaps this gesture from him signified it was simply too early to be dealing with nonsense.
"You're an enigma, Griffin." He humored her.
Clarke scrunched her face in further confusion and parted her lips to question the boy with brown curls but he was faster.
"Could you take those mugs to table 4?
"Certainly." She replied before it sank in. No, fuck. Not table 4.
Her supervisor observed her hesitate before the drinks.
"Is everything okay, Clarke?" Bellamy asked, though his genuine concern warmed his voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She replied with a small nod and a tight smile in confirmation to her own lie.
He slowly turns from her to begin manning the food counter.
She reluctantly carried both drinks on a circular tray to their recipients; her crush and her crushes drug-dealer coworker-associate closet-lesbian girlfriend.
Clarke approached with her heart in her throat. Time seemed to stream past her as she found herself going deaf as she leaned in a fraction to settle their orders on the table.
She didn't address them, smile or make any form of eye contact with the customers. No matter how attractive they (she) may be.
Although her attention was focused solely on her task, she felt the direct attention of the beholder of green irises on the side of her face.
She swallowed the beating lump in her throat and parted her lips to inhale as she departed from table 4. Feeling hurt, childish and absolutely stupid for the combination.
Tucking the drink tray beneath her arm as she walked swiftly away, avoiding any attention she was receiving. It was ironic the cute brunette latte girl would watch her so much when she was more unreachable than ever. The butterflies Clarke felt typically when the girls greens were looking her way were now ruckus causing seagull trapped in a garbage can. The sort that'd frantically beat its wings unevenly, bashing the interior of the plastic bag to a sickening degree.
Clarke spent the following hour brooding like a pissed off teenager behind the barista counter. Only allowing herself to observe the inhabitants of table 4 within her peripheral vision. She felt those same forest green eyes on her several times during the customers stay at the cafe, although she chose to look elsewhere. Anywhere but that girl.
The blonde thought quickly over how silly this crush was on her customer. It was unusual and unhealthy. Just like you, rude-ass inner monologue chimed in.
She huffed. Feeling the choke of the flame within herself. At least kill your smitten gawking at work.
Before she could think, her phone was in her hand and she had opened her Octavias name to observe their text history.
The thought to send her best friend a text occurred to her heavily as she hovered her thumbs over the touch keyboard.
She lowered her phone with a sigh and locked it on reflex, slipping it back into the pocket of her jeans.
Clarke had decided not to pursue the latte girl. It was the most logical and fair thing she could do on her behalf. Consciously ignore the brunette when she was present and stare at her departing figure as she exits the cafe. She let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. For her sanity, this crush had to stop.
It had been a collective an and 46 minutes the pair had stayed at table 4, when after a the silence of a very loud ringtone, the girl with dirty blonde locks skipped out.
Clarke had watched after her and squinted towards the front door out of curiosity. The movement she exuded was the most ruckus anyone had individually made during Clarkes shift so far. Without thinking, the blonde moved her head right and her eyes immediately managed to seek out the forbidden fruit. The breath taking bright green of the customers eyes would never fail to stun her. She inhaled deeply by parting her lips and returned the contact before exhaling and looking away.
Smooth. Real smooth, Griffin.
Her hand moved to the sterile cloth left crumpled on the bench beside the espresso machine and she began to cleanse the counter. Eyebrows furrowing down at her task as she was well aware she was within sight of the brunette. The brunette she most certainly didn't like. Just a brunette. No big deal.
Her body at some point would follow her mind and stop being so excited at every little second of attention was shot her way. Clarkes heart beat picked up like the footfalls of a startled stallion. The sound deafening.
She became so invested in scratching away the grime from hardened coffee residue that she barely noticed the heat that crept over her face and ears like a fever.
Had it always been this hot in the cafe?
"Excuse me?"
Clarke jumped and stared wide eyed at the source of the voice.
It was the brunette of table 4, squinting only a fraction at Clarke. Who knows what that meant, the blonde shrugged off mentally. Who cares what that means.
They shared a mutual pause as Clarke felt the warmth in her cheeks redirect back into the very necessary blood stream.
"Sorry, how may I help you?" Griffin asked, trying her best to regain composure and not behave any differently around her. It was just a customer.
"I'd like a tall latte to go, please."
Clarke quickly crumpled part of her apron into her clammy hands, trying to rid them of her anxiety before hovering her hands over the touch screen.
"Is that all?" The blonde asked, quirking her face into the question even though she remained looking directly at the screen.
"Yes"
"That comes to-"
The brunette cut in by simply raising her hand with her typical amount in her possession.
Clarke met her eyes and raised her own hand to receive the notes. Clarke almost stalled in the middle of her question when their fingers brushed.
"Name?"
The brunette tilted her head slightly, a few of her waves fell further onto the left as her plump lips hesitated before uttering a "Lexa."
Clarke nodded, now looking at the screen again. The cash drawer jutted out and she began sorting the bills respectively. The brunette, 'Lexa.' didn't have to mention Clarke to keep the change. It was already understood between the two, except this time there wouldn't be a stealthy way to give the customer her measly dime.
The scrape the marker made over the exterior of the curved surface satisfied Clarke. It cleared her ears and grounded her somehow.
Although she wouldn't admit it, she made the latte to the best of her barista ability.
The blonde emptied the contents into the cup, making the traditional latte heart she did habitually before sealing the coffee within the cup with the lid.
"Lexa" Clarke said, not needing to shout for her attention.
The brunette approached and her palm closed over the top of the container to pick it up.
Her eyes flickered from the bench to Clarkes blue eyes before casting away with a firming of her lips.
"Thank you." Lexa said softly before moving away from the bench.
Clarke didn't have to hear the tinkling of the chime over the front door to know the girl had left because her eyes were glued to her back.
The barista was paralyzed. Wondering what that meant- what it all meant.
It was doing a number on her.
Her shift ended at closing. She needed the extra money to carry her over for the next couple days she had to take off to complete her art assessment.
It was pitch black outside as the weather remained overcast. Not a star in the sky to marvel at or shed a single light on the city.
The decorative lanterns mounted to the red brick wall inside produced a warm glow throughout the cafe.
Clarke had finished wiping down the tables and vacuuming the floor as Bellamy sorted through stock in the backroom.
As the blonde walked towards the well lit backroom to remove her apron, she remembered the jumper that wasn't hers.
Then, she had an idea.
She removed the crimson sweater and retrieved the dime from her jeans pocket and walked out onto the floor. Her hands swiftly folded the jumper and tucked it beneath itself and she placed it on table 4's seat. The dime shining upwards to the ceiling, resting on the chest of the fabric. Hopefully she returns Sunday. If not, this will be a weird thing for a guest to discover.
Clarke had finished pulling her coat on and securing her thin canvas bag over her shoulder when she saw the glow from outside the front window.
Lincolns had pulled up against the curb, Octavia in the front seat.
The night breeze tousled the few free strands of her blonde hair as she entered the backseat of the vehicle.
"Thanks for coming to get me, guys." She said upon settling into her seat.
"No problem." Lincoln replied and Octavia poked her head around from her seat. "Do you really think we'd let you walk home at this hour?"
Clarke chuckled out a "I don't know"
The ride back to her dorms building was brief but she did manage to soak up the orange street light contrast to the deep black nothingness it engulfed just outside the perimeter the light created.
The trio stopped at a 7 Eleven as Lincoln needed to fill his tank. Clarke seized this opportunity to grad a coffee, some doughnuts and a few instant noodle cups.
The not-so-thirdwheel shared a couple doughnuts with her friends before they reached her destination.
"Thank you so much, again. I would've died on the walk here."
"Don't worry. We got you, Princess." Octavia smirked at her friends confession.
"See you!" Clarke called as the navy blue hatchback pulled away.
She entered her shared room, breathless from taking the stairs. She caught a glimpse of a laminated sign very obviously made on word so she just leaped up the flights.
A choked snore caught her attention as she cast her gaze to the right side of the room.
Raven's sprawled form, an assortment of limbs unique to her own body's capability that'd dislocate a joint if almost anyone else attempted to replicate it.
Clarkes lips cracked into a appreciative grin at her roommate. She swirled the contents of her cup and took a sip. It was a long black without sugar.
The blonde opted out as she knew her intake of sugar would almost exceed her dietary requirement from donuts alone.
She maneuvered her hand into the box and collected one last glazed krispy kreme for herself then strolled to Reyes bedside and set the box of remaining donuts on the bedside table.
Her feet discarded her boots on her side of the room and she sat cross legged on her bed. Sinking her teeth into the doughy pastry. The glaze cracked like parched ground and fell into her mouth, only to dissolve on her tongue. Had she gotten a job at 7 Eleven, she'd need new size of jeans purely from donut weight.
She turned on her bedside lamp that cast light directly over the torso portion of her bed. Her clean hand pulled her art diary from her canvas bag she had dumped at the end of her bed. Precise fingers flicked through pages that held together in thin bunches until she came to her most recent work in the book.
Blue eyes gazed longingly at the depiction of the latte girl- Lexa.
Her head snapped upright as she remembered the serviette doodle she had done that shift. She unfolded the napkin and placed on the opposite page to the work she was previously admiring. Blonde hair flicked over her shoulder as she leaned for a pacer on her bedside table. Writing those 4 letters beside the drawing in her book.
A breath released from her as her sock covered feet delved into her unmade open sheets.
She grinned sleepily at the fact she got to sleep in tomorrow.
Clarke sank further into her bed and hit the light switch. Her shoulders rolled forward from the embrace of her coat and it fell to the floor in a heap.
Bare arms vulnerable to the cold air of the dorm, she threw over the rest of the blanket and relaxed under its security.
Until tomorrow.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
I know it exceeds the length of the 2 before it, i just didn't know where to stop this installment haha
All reviews are read and appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcomed, too
Thank you to those for the favourites and follows. The support means a lot to me.
Thanks for taking time out of your day to read this new chapter.
I hope it isn't too much content with no immediate clexa scenes but that is the idea.
: )
