She stares at her notes without really seeing them, the handwriting becoming blurry the more she looks at it. She's been at it for hours – for days, seriously, a never-ending study session driving her crazy with each passing minute. Final exams will be the death of her, surely.
So Clarke sighs as she drops her forehead to the desk, and then headbutts it once or twice with a groan, for good measure. The low chuckle follows shortly after, and she glares at Bellamy over her shoulder. He's chilling in her bed, half propped up on the pillow, with a book in hands, and she hates him – hates that his exams finished the previous day so he's now free and she isn't. Lucky bastard.
"Please, be careful, we wouldn't want you to kill some neurons along the way."
"Oh, a dumb blonde joke. Perfect."
He flashes her a grin.
Asshole.
She focuses back on her notes with a long sigh. Last exam, it's her last exam and then she's free to do as she wishes for the next few weeks, what with Christmas break and all. (And she knows what she wants to do, it's lounging in her bed right now.)
"What are you studying anyway?" he asks.
"Renaissance."
There is a pregnant pause before he replies, all too smugly for her taste. "Ah. Ninja Turtles."
She doesn't know if she wants to laugh or face-palm at this point, and so she settles for pinching the bridge of her nose as she turns around in her seat to look at him. Another smirk is thrown her way, with additional dimples and sparkling eyes, and the urge to throw a pen at him is strong.
"Seriously? History is your major and all you find to say is 'ah, ninja turtles'?"
Her imitation of his voice is atrocious to say the least, voice way too low – more Batman than Bellamy – and he laughs at her in reply. Yep, definitely an asshole. She should ditch him, or something.
"Hey, my thing is pottery and statues of naked guys, not… boring Christian shit."
She looks offended, for a second, before she rolls her eyes at him and turns back to her desk. She doesn't have the strength to fight with him right now – doesn't have the time, either, if the glance at her alarm clock then her study schedule is anything to go by.
(He's made fun of her for how anal she is about everything, saying artists are supposed to be messy. But it's not her fault, because growing up with a doctor and an engineer as parents forced her to have that kind of brain and she always panics when she doesn't write down all the things that need to be done.)
(He mocks her but the moron colour-codes his notes too. So, really.)
She hears him stand up as she goes back to studying, and doesn't think much of it. He knows her place as well as she does now, half lives there most of the time, so she knows better than to worry about the mess Bellamy could possibly make in the kitchen.
Clarke reaches the third page of notes when he comes back, and she smells it before she actually sees the mug between his hands – tea, sweet, much needed tea. He puts the mug next to her laptop and she sighs happily at the sight of the warm, fuming drink.
Sigh that turns into a groan when he puts his hands on her shoulders, thumbs pressing into her tense muscles. She leans her head back and against his stomach, closes her eyes lazily. This is what she needs right now – a break and for her boyfriend to stop being an ass for more than five seconds. And she feels Bellamy's smile as he drops a kiss to her forehead like, yeah, okay, he may be an asshole but he isn't half-bad when he feels like it.
She may keep him a little while longer.
"Come on, babe. A few more hours and you're done."
She almost expects him to throw himself in one of his inspirational speeches, the ones she's heard him giving his sister over the phone more than once, but he doesn't. Instead, his hands brush against her shoulders, her neck, until she's relaxed and she stops worrying about everything and anything. He's good at it that way, even if she doesn't understand how that works.
"You can do this," he says as he kisses her on the cheek, lingering there for a few seconds.
He jumps back on her bed then, and she needs all the willpower in the world for her not to follow and snuggle against him until she falls asleep. Instead, she grabs the mug, and the tea burns her tongue as she drinks it and goes back to her studying.
She can do this.
(As it turns out, I-aced-my-exams-and-so-did-you sex climbs its way up her Top 10 Fucking Sessions With Bellamy Blake. Go figure.)