prompt: Octavia going through Clarke's portfolio
"He's a forest ranger, actually. He's a really nice guy but…"
Octavia nods towards the kitchen, and Clarke doesn't need to hear more. She knows of Bellamy's protectiveness after all, verging on the most annoying kind of jealousy at time – he loves too deeply for his own good, and Clarke has been the witness of many an argument between the siblings because of that particular topic.
"I'll talk with him, don't worry."
Octavia smiles, one of her rare non-sarcastic smiles, before looking down again. "Thank you… Oh, this one is nice."
She points to a drawing, one Clarke did not long ago – a sunset as she saw it from the roof of their building, and the colours don't please her all that much if she's honest with herself. But then again, maybe it's only her perfectionist side talking. Still, it is nice for Octavia to show such an interest in her art – they aren't really close, but they're getting there, even if it takes more time than they both care to admit.
So she thanks Octavia softly, before muttering something about checking on her brother, because she doesn't quite know what to speak about and doesn't feel like staring at her own drawings.
She sighs the moment she enters the kitchen, moving closer to Bellamy immediately. He's standing in front of the stove and so she hugs him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist and dropping a kiss to his neck. He hums in reply, fingers brushing her hand before he goes back to his cooking.
"You girls seem to get along," he says with a hint of pride in his voice.
She smiles, knowing how much he loves the both of them, how much it matters to him. "We're getting there. She asked to see my portfolio."
He tenses against her, standing straighter all of a sudden, and Clarke can only frown.
"What portfolio?"
"What do you mean, what portfolio? The one wh – oh."
"Yeah. Oh."
As if on cue, they hear a yelp from the other room. Clarke curses even as they both leave the kitchen, perfectly aware of everything in her portfolio – every painting and every drawing, tracing back her years of college and the classes she took. The figure drawing class she took. The figure drawing class she took with Bellamy as a model.
Fuck.
They find Octavia with her hands pressed to her eyes as she turns her back to the portfolio as if it had personally offended her (which, accurate) – when she glances to Bellamy, Clarke notices the way his mouth twitches and she elbows him, because now is not the moment to burst into laughter, thank you very much.
"TMI. TMI. TMI!" Octavia says, looking at them through her fingers. "You guys are so gross, seriously."
And, yeah, Bellamy is definitely laughing.