prompt: Bellamy is the one to draw Clarke
(+ bonus first date)
As far as first dates go, this one is doing well.
Like, yeah, okay, maybe Clarke has seen more of him that is appropriate for a first date and maybe he doesn't mind all that much but – she's easy to talk to, clever and funny if a little uptight. He wonders why they didn't do it before, why it took him three private sessions with her before finding the nerve to ask her out.
Sometimes, he's a dumbass that way.
And yeah, the coffee shop around the corner isn't the best of places for the dean's daughter, but he stands naked in front of people to make ends meet so it's not like he could afford some fancy restaurant. Not that Clarke seems to mind, and he's kind of grateful for that.
(She eats her muffin with a fork and drinks her tea with her pinkie up, like some damn fucking princess, and he's so smitten it's pathetic at that point.)
Basically he spends his time listening to her and admiring her, and he doesn't mind one bit because Clarke just has that way about her and Bellamy is drawn to her like a moth to a flame and – yeah.
He's taking a sip of his coffee when her eyes widen almost comically, mouth opening a tiny bit, before she just says "Don't move." And, well, he doesn't, he freezes with the mug to his lip as she rummages through her bag and grab a pencil and a small sketchbook.
He groans, for the heck of it, but the mug hides his smile from her. "Really? Now?"
"Yes. Now."
And he definitely chuckles this time, as she starts sketching like she's possessed, the pencil scratching the paper as she looks between him and her sketchbook. She goes somewhere else when she's drawing, some corner of her mind where nothing else matters – the world could end and she wouldn't notice, and maybe it's weird but he finds that really hot somehow.
But then again, everything Clarke Griffin is hot to him. So.
It only takes her a few minutes – probably something she'll work on later, she seems to do that a lot, just capture a moment and then go back to it for hours until it's perfection. And then she smiles, nods, and the moment is gone as he finally allows himself another sip of coffee even if he rolls his eyes at her antics.
"Can I at least see it?"
And she rolls her eyes back at him, even as she flips the sketchbook for him to see. It's his face alright, unkempt mop of hair and all. And Bellamy has never stopped to think about his physical appearance – too tanned for America's standards, too many freckles to go unnoticed – but… But he likes the way she sees him, like the way she represents him. He likes himself, through her eyes.
So obviously he snatches the sketchbook from her, and the pencil too while he's at it. "Okay, my turn," he says, and she laughs even as she shakes her head, and leans on her elbow like some kind of blonde version of Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Needless to say, his drawing is a disaster, no matter how lovely the model is – it's more of a stickman with long hair and a skirt than anything else, and Clarke bursts into laughter when he shows it to her. Like you do.
But she also moves to sit next to him, and takes back the pencil. "Well, first of all you forgot my eyes, so thanks for nothing." And maybe her tone is a little patronising, in a very Clarke way, but he doesn't care when she's so close to him he can feel the warmth of her. "Also my nose. And, well, shoes and everything."
And so she fixes it, in quick simple strokes, until holding the sketchbook up – waiting for his approval, it seems.
He sighs.
"Well now you've ruined it."
She laughs again and he kisses her – or maybe she kisses him, the fuck if he cares. Anyway, they share their first kiss in that small booth in that crappy coffee shop, and her lips taste like tea and chocolate, and Bellamy wouldn't have it any other way.