[A/N: You guys are so amazing! Honestly all of your reviews/favorites/follows make my day! Reading them all makes my heart swarm. College is already crazy busy but I managed to bust out a chapter! I hope you enjoy it, I know I enjoyed writing it. Also we got renewed for another season!? I'm SO pumped and crossing my fingers for Bellarke! This chapter has some language! I'll try to update as soon as I can! - Mia]
Music Inspired: The Writer / Ellie Goulding
He jolted awake.
His heart was hammering in his chest and his eyes scanned the room quickly, looking for whatever caused him to wake up in the dead of night.
He blinked and adjusted to the darkness and listened. All he could hear was the soft rattling of wind against his curtains and the rush of water in the pipes behind him in the walls.
His pulse continued it's quick beating as he tried to recall his dream. He faintly remembered the feeling of trees and dirt beneath his palms. He could smell fresh rain and lavender. He remembered the sight of blonde hair in the distance. And then he vividly remembered the piercing scream that caused him to quickly wake up.
He shook his head at his own thoughts and turned his head toward his phone. The bright light caused him to squint as he looked at the time. 3:47 AM.
He quickly locked his phone and fell back against his bed. He wanted nothing more than to fall back into a slumber but his heart still hadn't calmed down. The scream still rang around in his head.
Dreams were something he was never fond of. He mostly dreamed of his childhood. The memories were clear in his mind and the scenarios would never change. His father still left. His mother stopped caring. Octavia almost starved to death. He would avoid dreams at all costs if he could.
He closed his eyes tightly and tried to let the soft patter of wind lull him back to sleep.
He thought about what was going to happen when he officially started his day. He would have to leave Octavia money to get food for the party and whatever else she needed. He had to pull a double at work. And then he had to pick up Clarke. (He was still going to blame his dream for his still increased heart rate).
She had looked so vulnerable and scared last night. Like Octavia had looked plenty of times but on Clarke it looked different. Mostly because it appeared to even be foreign to her.
When she had run into him, he didn't even know what to think. She was clutching her arm and her eyes were wide with something resembling fear. It had thrown him off. He wasn't sure why it had caused him to feel whatever it was that he did feel.
He wasn't good with feelings either.
He gave a soft grunt before he threw his legs over the side of his bed. He brought a tired hand through his hair and pushed it off of his clammy forehead. He took a deep breath before he stretched up and rubbed his bare stomach with his hand with a yawn.
He quietly walked out of his room and down the hallway a bit. He lightly pushed on Octavia's door and peeked his head inside. Even though she was eighteen, going on nineteen, his sister still slept with a night-light. His heart settled a bit more when he saw her dark hair peeking out from her comforter.
Just as quietly, he closed the door behind him and ventured off into the kitchen. He yawned once more as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a water bottle.
He walked over to the small table and sat down as he took a drink from the cold bottle. He was about to sigh in content when he heard the soft shuffling of feet (Octavia hadn't outgrown that either). He lowered the water bottle and watched the face so familiar to his own appear in the dark kitchen.
"You okay?" His voice was hoarse with sleep but any ounce of sleep left him as he stared at his sister.
She nodded her head and walked toward the fridge, reaching for the half gallon of milk. "You walk heavy."
He watched her pour herself a glass and drink it all within a minute. He remembered being the one to bring her glasses of milk in the middle of night when she woke up crying. He wondered if she did.
"Are you okay?"
He glanced up at her and took in the small crease in her brow. She still looked so young to him. Like the girl who asked for piggyback rides and for him to braid her hair. Would she always look that way to him?
He nodded his head slowly in response to her question as he traced the cracks in the table. "Yeah, I'm alright."
There was silence for a few moments before he lifted his head to see her clean out her glass and place it on the drying rack. She rubbed at her eyes before she walked toward the couch without as much of a word.
She pulled on the throw blanket she had made a few years ago and sat in her corner of the couch.
He stood up and put his water bottle back into the fridge and walked to the couch with a wave of sleep hitting him.
He rested against the opposite corner and waited for his sister to turn on the television. He laughed to an overplayed sitcom and felt his eyes grow dreary. He fell asleep to his sister's laughter and the feeling of a blanket being thrown over him.
…
"You're off your game, Blake."
He tugged at his white collar and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't completely off his game. He had woken up at a decent hour and then he had made breakfast with his sister before shuffling off for his shift at The Ark. He couldn't really explain why he was so off at work.
His head was functioning but it wasn't working properly. He kept mixing up silly things, like drinks or salad dressings.
He brought a calloused hand to his face and groaned before flicking off Jasper with a small smile. He walked toward the dark haired boy and brought a cucumber to his mouth, successfully blocking the smack from Jasper's waiting hand.
"Monty was cooking up something when I left." Jasper said with a smirk as he tossed a small salad onto a plate that probably cost more than what both of them made in a day. "Smelled pret-tay strong."
He nodded his head and reached for another cucumber. "As long as it's not that apple pie shit. I had to bleach my carpet last year." He grimaced.
Jasper let out a full laugh as he hollered out the order and placed it onto the waiting rack. "Something fruity I think." He pulled off his plastic gloves and leaned against the counter as well. "Want me to leave work with you to help set up?"
He grinded his jaw before he coughed slightly. "I have something to do after work."
Jasper narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"
He really didn't want to talk about this. He wasn't good at talking about this kind of stuff, even though he knew it didn't really matter. He glanced at Jasper once more before he shrugged. "I'm picking up a girl."
Jasper rolled his eyes but grinned. "Of course you are." He turned his attention toward the incoming order and started to put on another pair of plastic gloves.
If there was ever a moment where he regretted something, it had to be this moment exactly. He had seen his fair share of women since he turned fifteen. Part of it because he just enjoyed it. And part of it because it was the only time he could feel an ounce of something besides hatred for himself.
He had a wide spectrum of women but nothing really lasted. He knew that was no one's fault but his own.
He gave out a cough and tugged on the sleeves of his jacket. "It's not like that."
Jasper turned to him with a look, but it dropped once he turned fully toward him. (It would always amaze him how Jasper could keep complete eye contact and still be able to prepare a meal.) "You're serious. Wait is it-" Jasper waited a few seconds. "Is it the girl you left with last night?"
"Why?"
Jasper let out a breath as he pushed the salad onto the waiting rack. "Clarke Griffin. She's not like us, man." He shook his head and shrugged. "This." He gestured widely with his arms. "This lifestyle is all she knows."
Like he didn't already know that. He shrugged and popped another cucumber into his mouth before going to check his tables.
He thought about Clarke and the way the sun reflected in her hair. He thought about the way she looked so uncomfortable sitting amongst people at The Ark.
He thought about how her eyes grew so wide when he invited her to his party. How she mumbled to herself before agreeing, as if she didn't believe someone was asking her a question and allowing her to answer for herself.
He shook his head and groaned when he reached a table and realized he had gotten a salad dressing wrong.
Again.
…
He parked the car before the large house and stared at the red door.
It was nearly sunset, so the house stood tall amongst the dark purple hues behind it. He stared down at his jeans and faded gray shirt before he pulled the key from the ignition. He closed the door and stared at the house once more before walking toward it.
To say he felt inferior would be an understatement. The house only appeared the get larger the closer he walked toward it. The brick sidewalk toward the door was pulled free of weeds and sat perfectly beneath his feet.
He jumped up toward the door, lifted his hand and paused. He brought his hand through his hair and ruffled it as he let out a breath. He brought his hand back toward the door and knocked three times before bringing his hand back to his side.
Nothing.
He looked at the street and then back toward the house. He couldn't have been in the wrong place. He was about to lift his hand back toward the door but it whipped opened beneath his hand.
Her hair was pulled away from her face and her eyes were probably as wide as his were.
"Uh-he-hi." She mumbled out as she stood up straight. "I know you said not to make anything but I didn't do anything all day, so I made some cookies. I hope that's okay."
He wasn't even sure he got all she said because she was talking so fast. He smiled at her. "That's fine." He pointed back toward his car. "I can wait for you."
She shook her head quickly and opened the door up wider. "No, come on in."
He stared at her once more before stepping into the house. He glanced at his worn out boots against the polished hard wood floor beneath them. He glanced back up at Clarke and watched her chewing her lip. She did that a lot.
She hopped on one foot to another as she closed the door. She looked like she was waiting to say something but the chime from the kitchen cut her off. He watched her prance down the long hallway before he followed in her direction.
Pictures of a young blonde girl flooded the walls. Most of them were filled with a smiling young girl in a private school uniform holding up some sort of achievement with a smiling man beside her. He assumed it to be her father.
As he got farther down the hall, the smiles faded and the girl stood alone.
He found himself stopping before a picture of Clarke in her graduation cap and gown. Her face wasn't looking at the camera but she was smiling at something beyond the camera, like a friend or something. It was the most genuine smile he had seen thus far coating the walls of her house.
"Ready?"
He turned his head and watched her holding a Tupperware container in her hands. She was wearing a long-sleeved green shirt with a pair of jean shorts. He recalled her soft voice saying green was her favorite color.
"Always am, princess." He smirked slightly in her direction as he once again followed her toward the door. He watched her fiddle with the lock once they were outside before heading toward his car. He opened up her door before his own and watched as she clutched the Tupperware container in her lap. He went toward his side and quickly got in. She took a deep breath, like she was panicked. "You know, you don't have to come if you don't want to."
She turned her head quickly. "I want to." She glanced back down at the Tupperware. "You're going to think it's dumb."
"Try me."
He watched her tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "The party the other night was the first party I've really been too."
He stared at the stubborn piece of hair that was already becoming unkempt. She was so much more pure than him. She radiated good. From her pale skin to her deep blue eye, she reflected against his dark tones. She was like first sign of spring after a dreaded winter.
He couldn't believe the words floating around in his brain. He wasn't like this. Not for anyone. Not even Octavia.
His silence must of unsettled her because she was reaching for the door handle. He acted before he thought (something that kept happening lately) and reached for her hand against the handle. It felt so warm against his cool one. "How about." He pulled his hand away quickly and looked at her. Eye for eye, even though all he wanted to look at was her mouth. "We go and if you totally hate it, we can go get waffles."
She laughed loudly at that. "It's your party! You can't leave."
He shrugged, a smile gracing his features. "It's my party, I can do whatever I want." Her laughter rung in his ears again and he found himself staring out the car with a smile on his face. Once her laughter died down, he turned to her again. He felt his mouth still twisted up in a grin. "Okay?"
Her hands had loosened on the Tupperware container. Her cheeks were a bright pink from laughter and her eyes were bluer. He decided that's how he liked her best. "Okay."
…
He led her toward his apartment with his hand on the small of her back.
He tried not to think about the warmth that radiated onto his palm but it was hard not to.
The music had reached them once they got off the stairs. He groaned when he heard nineties rock but he guessed that was what happened when you put Monty in charge of music.
He pulled his hand away and stood before his open door. People were everywhere but not excessively. Even a few of his neighbors were weaving in and out of their own apartments.
He turned his body toward hers and watched her eyes dancing over everyone. She looked like a deer in headlights. He waited a few seconds and then pulled one of her hands into his own, causing her to jolt up and stare at him.
He weaved his fingers through hers and slowly took the Tupperware container from her other hand. "We can leave whenever you want."
She stared at him and then toward their locked hands. She didn't move away. "Lead the way."
He smiled and turned around, keeping her hand locked between his own. He was surprised how many people fit into his apartment but then again he had done this before. All the furniture was pushed up against the walls and there were people doing shots in the kitchen and people dancing in the living room.
He pulled Clarke down the hallway and toward his room.
He quickly pulled her into the small space. He was slightly off guard and nervous and it made him huff. He let go of her hand and closed the door behind her before walking toward his closet and pulling out a bottle of Bacardi. He placed her cookies onto his dresser as he reached for two shot glasses. He filled them up (his more than hers) and handed one in her direction.
"I don't-." She stopped as her hands circled the shot glass anyway. She glanced at the clear liquid and then turned her head slightly toward the music from the party. She lifted the glass toward her lips and drank it all. Gasping loudly after the burn hit her throat. "Shit."
He stared at her and shook his head with a smile before downing his own glass.
She looked at him in disbelief as he reached for her class and set it next to his back onto the dresser. "How are you fine? That was god awful."
He laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Practice." He glanced at her and then nodded back toward the party. "Think you're ready?"
She bit her lip. "Sure."
He nodded toward the door and headed that way, holding his left hand out behind him. It took her a moment, but her small hand grasped his own as she followed behind him.
He wanted to spend hours memorizing the lines on her hands and seeing if they flowed into any of the cracks in his own.
He needed another drink or else his thoughts were going to cause him to go insane (even though he was sure the smell of lavender she wore was doing a fine job of that anyway).
He led her into the kitchen and didn't let go of her hand. He wasn't sure what had come over him but he didn't want her to go anywhere else and by the pressure she was pressing back into his, he was sure she felt the same.
He nodded toward Jasper and Monty as the pair drank out of red cups. "Guys this is Clarke." Jasper quickly wiped his mouth and offered Clarke his hand. He watched as her cheeks reddened when she shook his hand, keeping her other locked with his.
"Nice to meet you Clarke, I'm Jasper." He hit Monty on the back of the head. "This is Monty, my best mate."
He rolled his eyes but smiled when he heard the soft laughter coming from Clarke. He smiled and watched his sister weave her way around dancing bodies and into the small open spaced kitchen. She glanced at him and then the hand he had wrapped around Clarke's.
"Clarke this is my sister, Octavia."
He glanced from Octavia toward Clarke and saw a weird look on her face; a look of recognition or something of the sort. He glanced back at his sister with a curious look on his face.
Octavia smiled and nodded toward Clarke. "Good to see you again." His head tilted. Octavia noticed and smirked. "I can have friends, Bell." She smirked and pulled on Clarke's empty hand, tugging her away from his grasp. "I actually have something for you."
Clarke's head turned and he watched her eyes grow wide. "What is it?"
Octavia grinned the grin he knew too well. She had done something. "Just come with me." She reached out her hand and tugged lightly on Clarke's empty hand. She glanced back at him and grinned. "I'll return her in a bit."
He nodded and watched the pair walk back do the hallway. He was only jolted back by the soft punch in his shoulder.
He watched Jasper smirk. "You have it bad." Monty was making kissing faces at him.
He didn't have it bad. It didn't have anything at all. He was just being the decent guy. Wasn't he? Whatever he was feeling was causing him to be thrown off more so than usual.
As he told himself all this, his hand missed the warmth of Clarke's in his own. He heard Jasper and Monty laugh once more.
"Fuck off."
He grabbed himself a red cup and took a few drinks as he listened to his friends mumble about something that couldn't even hold his attention. What was going on with him? Why did he care about someone he barely knew? This wasn't like him.
And what was Octavia doing with her? He finished his cup and watched as Clarke came back into view with reddened cheeks and a bag from the boutique Octavia worked at. He tilted his head as he looked at his sister who merely shrugged and made her way into the dancing bodies in the living room.
Clarke walked toward him and stood almost between his legs as he leaned against the counter.
Without thinking (like usual), he pushed a piece of blonde hair behind her ear and gestured toward the bag. "You go shopping in O's closet?" He didn't want to think about how she leaned somewhat into his hand but he couldn't help it as a warm feeling swam around in his stomach.
Her cheeks reddened as she shook her head. She opened it and peeked inside once more only to cause her cheeks to redden again. She pulled up a glimpse of something purple and bit her lip as she gently placed it back into the bag. "I tried on a dress a few days ago and didn't like how it-." She shook her head. "I just didn't like the style but she found me something I liked."
That didn't surprise him. Maybe his sister was smitten to the blue eyes of Clarke Griffin too.
"She also wouldn't let me out of her room until I accepted it."
He laughed. "Sounds like her." She nodded and kept her eyes on bag. He brought his hand to lift her chin up. He smiled at her. "Not feeling it, huh?"
She smiled sheepishly and looked around the even more crowded apartment. "I'm just not used to all this."
"Waffles?"
She shook her head. "No, it's alright."
He stared at her for another moment before he pushed himself off the counter and reached for her hand. He pulled her so quickly she gasped but followed him anyway. He lead her back toward his bedroom and shut the door behind her.
He walked toward his window and pushed the window open all the way and quickly stepped out onto the fire escape. He looked back into his room to watch her careful set the bag onto his bed before walking toward the window hesitantly.
He offered her his hand and watched her contemplate what he was insinuating. "Do you trust me?" His tone was light but her face grew serious.
"Yes."
The three-letter word caused him to stand still. Her face was so serious and her eyes were shining against the moon outside. He watched her take his hand but she didn't need it as she climbed out his window and onto the fire escape. He gestured toward the ladder to their left. "Ladies first."
She nodded her head and reached out for the rails as she slowly started to pull herself up. He followed her up and watched her take in the view as her feet landed on the roof.
It wasn't so much for the landscape and buildings around them but for the shimmer of stars above their heads. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened in shock as she walked toward the railing.
He crossed his arms and walked toward her, taking in the view himself.
She sighed and pointed out a shooting star flying over their heads. "What would you wish for?"
Her voice was soft, almost like a younger girl in amazement. His brain flooded with images. He saw Octavia going to something other than a shitty community college. He saw his friends reaching their dreams instead of being halted. He saw himself doing something he was proud of. He saw Clarke without an ounce of sadness on her face.
"I don't even know what I would wish for."
She nodded her head and crossed her arms over the railing. She took a deep breath and smiled as she looked up at the stars.
He looked at her and thought about how much his life had changed in only the week and a half he had known her. It was strange how he met her in the exact moment he had.
They stood in silence for some time. He honestly couldn't tell if it had been hours or merely minutes. He felt her skin radiating onto his even through the small distance between them.
He knew life wasn't a wish-giving factory but as he looked her, he knew exactly what he would wish for.