Clarke wakes up with a start. Raising her blonde mop of tangles barely from the pillow which moments prior engulfed her face just to glance at her phone on the nightstand.
The numbers trembled in her blurry vision.
6:20am.

ugh.

This was becoming a pattern. Regaining consciousness 10 minutes before her alarm was set to rouse her.

Her blue eyes were cloudy as her flesh vessel cocked her head to the side in order to rid the hair stuck to her face.
The barista resettled beneath her duvet in her chilly shared dorm room.

Her eyes snapped open, stretching her vision. This time out of pure frustration.
In her adjustment, she had invited the bitter cold into her cozy haven.
Every fucking time, Griffin.

The blonde snarled at how pathetic she was before ducking her face beneath her sheets, puffing breath onto her fingers in a vain attempt to encourage circulation.

With her eyes sealed beneath lashes, she resumed her dormancy the best she could. Fake it til you make it.

Her phone began its daily fit, vibrating and emitting a ungodly alarm throughout the room. This happened only once before she threw her sheets away from her torso to silence it with a muttered "Yeah-yeah" of dismissal.

The cold zeroed in on her exposed skin first, then it sank through her clothed areas with unforgiving icy fangs.
She sucked a breath through her teeth and set her jaw to refrain from shivering.
It was out of habit to do this as Raven awoke to unusual sounds like chattering teeth. She never so much as cracked an eye for regular alarm tones.
Clarke found this almost absurd but thought not to question it.

She scrunched up her face before throwing a hand from the mattress to a small handle on her nightstand. Yanking a drawer free from its designated slot, her fingers blindly rummaged for a balled up pair of socks she stashed in there specifically for this reason.

Her arm retreated to the rest of her body. Quickly reworking the socks apart and pulling the toe-savers up her ankles. God bless for past Clarke. Always one step ahead for dire times.

Next phase of action - securing a bra to her chest.
This task needed more preparation. Majority of the prep was mental.

God, she hated mornings.

She brought her baby-blue bed shirt over her shoulders and collected her deep purple bra she had apparently hung over a notch in her desk chair frame.
Maneuvering a white body conforming top over her bed head. It relieved her it had longer sleeves than most of her other wardrobe choices.
She struggled and wiggled into black skinny jeans, securing them at her midriff. They were her high-waist pair. Conveniently they also happened to be the only clean ones as of current.
Clarke brushed her teeth and spat the accumulated foam into the sink, collecting water in her hand to rinse and effectively guiding the stream from the faucet to rogue froth.
She tapped the water from her toothbrush against the basin and glanced over to Ravens bed.

The engineer in training had her mouth wide open. Her right arm tucked beneath her collar and forearm pointed floppily around her back.
Her bestfriends sprawled form made her appreciate the few things that awoke her.

'That girl sure does sleep hard.'

Clarke strode over to her bag hook beside the door and picked up her thicker coat. A thick pale grey hoodie sewn into a light blue faux denim coat.
She worked it over her arms and shoulders, feeling secure in the many layers it provided. It promised her a future of warmth.
Nimble hands plucked her dorm keys from its designated hook and slipped them into the coats pocket before quickly slinging her canvas bag over a shoulder.

She forcefully stuffed her feet on their own accord into each shoe. Her brown boots were ankle high with a single functional buckle on each. Not that she ever did them up properly. Artists are very lazy people in almost every facet in life besides the field of art, Clarke would argue.

Unlocking the door and closing it as quietly as possible, she locked it on the other side to secure her unconscious Engineer roommate within.

With a scuff of her loose boots and a grumble in her gut, she set off for the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a rather large hall with an abundance of picnic-like tables to encourage groups of students to sit with each other.
Clarke was thrilled the hall, at this particular hour, had wafted scents of freshly baked bread, coffee and bacon.

The tables were peppered with students all over the place. The company was small so the conversation volume in the room was soft.
She relished the slow function this early in the work day. Turning her attention from admiring her environment back to the parted pages of her book, she scanned the next couple lines of text. Face soft with ease.

Her free hand brushed her knuckles against the exterior of her cardboard coffee cup. It was a large black coffee which radiated the caffeinated fever from within. Making it almost unbearable for contact a second too long. The sensation kept her fidgeting at bay for now.

A slim blur swung a skinny leg over the opposing bench as a pale hand entered Clarkes line of vision.
"Mind if i have this, Princess?"

Just like that, the essence of patience in her soul was suctioned from her in a second.

Octavia Blake had picked up the unfinished half of Clarkes breakfast sandwich.
The food had been somewhat pricey but it made up for it in the ingredients and content.
The sandwich being so packed full of egg and bacon Clarke was stuffed from the first half.

Clarke closed her book and gave a nod in confirmation, not that Octavia had anticipated it order to begin. Already about halfway through the rest of it. She was chewing a lot as she made the mistake of taking large bites. Clarke relished the struggle that Octavia was unaware she was expressing.

"Hey Lincoln" Clarke offered as acknowledgement. It wasn't that she wasn't fond of Octavias boyfriend, her awkwardness was more due to the fact he was the silent observing type.
Clarke could respect that of course, it just made conversation on her behalf one sided and hearing her own voice for an extended period of time made her self conscious.

Although he was rather large and muscular, he was a fellow art student. Taking the same class alongside Clarke.

Lincoln nodded in reply to the blonde before slotting a leg over the picnic seat. Setting down two to-go coffees on the table top beside Octavia.

"So I heard you ogled a customer." Octavia blurted out while licking small remnants of bbq sauce off her hands.

Clarkes' sip of coffee was compromised in shock as it was redirected in a snort up the back of her throat, down her nasal passage.
Milk dripped from her nose as one hand cupped over the lower half of her face and the other one slid around the table blindly in search for a napkin.

Lincoln located one fairly swiftly and handed it into her frantic grabby hand.
The foreign substance burned through her sinuses and she felt her cheeks flush hot and eyes water.

She leaned back to blink the moisture from her eyes, staring at the ceiling. Holding a scrunched up serviette against her nose as O's cackles died down.

Octavia spoke through her shit eating grin, "Bellamy told me."

"Yeah I know who told you, O." Clarke hissed across the table. Voice more nasally due to the complications with her nose.
"And I wasn't ogling."

"Bell says otherwise." The brunette clipped

"Of course he does. To be stubborn is part of the Blake charm, isn't it?" Clarke fumed. Lincoln chuckled at the fact of her words.

Octavia glanced between the two art students, looking hurt. "Okay, harsh."

"Anyway, he said you were sketching up a storm when staring at them."

"Sounds more like Bellamy was ogling me, O." Clarke countered.

"Oh, stop. Gross." The younger Blake wrinkled her nose in distaste.

The blonde glanced down to her wrist with a small smile from the banter. "Almost time for art class" Clarke breathed out, rising to her feet.

Lincoln shifted sideways on the seat and tilted his head back to consume the final dregs of his morning brew.

He crushed the empty cup downwards to the table with his palm before leaning forward to capture Octavia in a farewell kiss.
"I'll pick you up later." He murmured before he reeled back to stand and walk with Clarke to their respective first lesson of the day.

Art class had been pretty standard to say the least. They were given a brief 15 minute overview of what the teacher expected of their upcoming project, what mediums are available for use, what themes are appropriate etc.
Lincoln had already pitched his idea for his piece - a portrait of his subject (Octavia) made completely out of tiles.

Clarke was thinking more along the lines of painting a forest monet style. No definitive lines of each subject in the work, just colours representing them individually.
She spent the majority of the lesson chewing her bottom lip and using a spare piece of paper to depict her thoughts on her project.

At one point she flicked open her art diary, quickly glancing at each pages works until she landed on the most recent.

The girl at the coffee shop. The sketch didn't do the stranger justice. Capturing the true essence of someone is something Clarke really intended to establish this year in college.
When she saw Lincoln turn his head her way she quickly flicked the page over to a fresh one.

He was busy on his laptop, typing into a word document the details of his project. What kinds of tiles, where he'd buy the materials from, what scale he desired for the piece. He was very calculated like that.
She glanced his way, seeing the smaller art pad open to a particular drawing of Octavia. His pencil work was impeccable.

"Wow Lincoln, that's stunning." She said furrowing her brow. He was full of surprises, it seemed.

"You think so? I'm not set just yet on whether on not I want this drawing to be the piece."

"Whatever you produce will be brilliant by the looks of it." She said in all honesty.

He gave her a small smile which she returned. It was mutual, he didn't have to say thanks.

She preferred his quiet nature. It meant she didn't have to push conversation like with more talkative artists their class had. If she wanted to zone out all lesson, it was her choice.

Before she knew it, she'd taped in her scrappy plan sheet onto the blank page she'd had open all lesson. She scribbled about colours, the types of paints she'd use, why a monet style painting and why a forest.

The lesson was over before she had the chance to comprehend all the other students had made significantly more progress than she had.

She promised to dedicate her thought process during her shift later that she'd think more about her project. This was her only lesson for the day, her English lecture had been cancelled.

The blonde pulled on her coat and gave her farewell to Lincoln.

Beginning the walk from campus to the cafe in which she worked.

She entered the shop, the chime went off overhead and the pungent smell of coffee slammed into her senses. Stimulating her through scent alone.

The air was stagnant within the interior of the cafe which she appreciated as she shrugged off her coat in the backroom. Hanging the garment over the same hook her bag resided on.

As it approached 11:15am, the vibe within the store was barely above a crawl. A couple customers murmured back and forth over their coffees. No ruckus, only a few tables to wipe down and collect dishes from.

Clarke fiddled with her aprons cords, securing it around her waist as she approached the barista counter.
Her arms were brought back to her sides as she cast her gaze down to Monte, whom was currently using the sandwich press to heat a croissant.

The blonde made her way out onto the floor with a sterilized cloth to wipe down previous used tables.
Water residue left behind on the tops of tables evaporated soon enough after application.

Her pale hands stacked large to small plates on top one another to make for a simple trip back to the sink.

The barista heaved the collection of dishes and carted them through to the back of the store. She made eye contact with Monty and offered a friendly smile which he returned mutually. During this, she heard the front of the store chime in indication of a new customer.

She set the plates down before turning to the front of the store. She was spooked by the stranger who'd already approached the order portion of the bench.
Clarkes pale blue eyes landed on pronounced tan collarbones before a slender neck and finally, a face.

Her face. Clarke was stunned. The mystery girl she had sketched from across the room had returned to the cafe so soon.

Green eyes eased the girls otherwise dark features. Their gaze held each others for a moment before the Barista allowed her face to drop into a welcoming smile.

"Hi, how may I help you?" Her voice husky from not being used since she spoke to Lincoln in art class.

"I'd like a tall latte" The girl said, not breaking eye contact with Clarke.

The blonde was dissected underneath this girls gaze, or at least that's how she felt. The brunette was taller than Clarke.

She broke gaze in order to look down and process the transaction.

"To go or have in?" Clarke asked, using the touch screen for a little longer than necessary to avoid the girls intense eyes.

"Have in." Her soft murmur escaped those puffy lips Clarke willed herself not to look at.

The artist inhaled deeply, trying to resolve herself before glancing back up to the girl with a bright smile, "That comes to about $4.15"

The brunette handed Clarke 4 dollar bills and a quarter pinched against the notes. In retrieving the amount, Clarkes thumb brushed against the strangers' and she stiffly looked back to the open till to put away the money.

"Keep the change." The girl added before moving away from the counter to seat herself, once again, at table 4.
Clarke had the spare change pinched in her fingers when she decided she'd just put it on the saucer when she brought the customer her the latte.

It isn't long before the coffee is prepared to the best of her barista capability and placed on the saucer beside the change.

She brought it over to the mysterious brunette, situating it intentionally beside her laptop same as last time.

Clarke didn't mention her drink order or anything, remembering how the girl avoided her so consistently towards the end of their last ordeal.
She walked back to her post behind the barista counter and unlocked her phone. Two can play the ice queen game.

She groaned, 3 missed calls from her Mom. She sighed. It had been a while since she had spoken to the Doctor.

With a click, she locked her phone and slid it into her back pocket.

Clarke puffed out her cheeks and cast her gaze down to the floor before flicking it back over to the girl who typically hid behind her laptop screen.

Oh

The attractive customer was already looking directly at her.

Oh.

It was a short lived moment as she quickly raised her latte to her lips, taking a long sip.

Clarke looked away, not wanting to intrude on the unusual girl further. She didn't want another complaint filed against her since that chocolate powder ordeal 5 months ago.

Her shift remained at a snails pace, aside from her break where she had to resist the urge to draw the tan girl and her bright distracting eyes.

It came down to failure though. Clarke sketched the girls lashes and eye shape, filling them in as accurately as she could remember of their brief contact.

She wondered what job the girl must have to require so much text. Clarke could heard the clack of the keyboard from the opposing side of the cafe.
The customer was constantly typing, hands gracing the keys expertly and punched in surely thousands of words as her lattes fever subsided.

Today she was wearing some sort of shirt with a collar beneath an over sized jumper that fell down the tan ones forearms whenever she leaned her head against a fist or fiddled with the hair at her nape in the few moments she stopped typing. Pausing and perhaps reviewing the product of her hard work, Clarke thought. Not that she had been paying attention.

The blue eyed barista put it down to mere coincidence she caught the girl looking at her earlier in her shift. The brunette certainly wasn't now, which brought Clarke to the swift conclusion the girl didn't care for the blonde. She was probably another oblivious heterosexual wondering why some other assumed straight girl would be staring at her.

Clarke snorted at this theory, which was the likely reality of the situation.
'You...straight.' she scoffed to herself before letting out a single chuckle at her post.

In order to keep herself busy, she wiped down the counter tops, squeezed in a brief catch up session with Monty in the backroom before she was needed to make another brew.

This customer was a more mature woman who looked to be about 45. This woman was plump, had some striking greys streaking through her shorter wind swept hair and was very generous on the conversational front with Clarke at the register.

It was refreshing to talk and joke in spite of the slow business.
God knows she wasn't going to get any more words out of the macbook girl.

The lady managed to sneak in a few comments about how dull customers can be at which Clarke just laughed in response.

She returned the change from the customers cash to her and let her know it'd be brought over the moment it was done with one of her brightest and most genuine smiles that day.

Clarke set to work frothing the milk to a silky texture, her brow furrowed in concentration. It was one quick second glance to the brunette at table 4, she noticed the girls right ear piece was dangling at her chest. It was an odd detail but whatever.

The blonde brought over the womans coffee and struck up a small additional chat before parting to man her half of the store.

This time when Clarke observed the brunette, both headphones were in. She chewed her lip in frustration, just wanting her shift to finish already when mystery girl rose, sliding her chair behind her with the backs of her knees.

She unplugged her headphones and wound them up quickly before tucking them in a pocket on her hip. Closing her laptop with wave of her hand and flipping her notebook closed.
The book was slotted into her bag orderly as her macbook was secured beneath her armpit, close to her person.

Clarke averted her gaze intentionally. Not wanting to create a weird departing atmosphere for the customers send off.

The girl circled around closer to the counter with a single ear piece in, her brown hair hanging elegantly around her face.
What-had she just pouted at Clarke?

The girls eyes were dark, perhaps not on Clarkes face but elsewhere close to her?
Those lips puffed out any more than usual made the blonde trip a little.

The customer departed out the front door and refrained from casting her eyes back into the cafe when walking by one of the two large windows.

The barista was stunned.

What did it mean that the stranger had intentionally gone a longer route to the exit, looking Clarkes way voluntarily and moved her damn mouth in such an alluring fashion.
The blonde released the breath she wasn't aware she withheld.
Ol' Griffin didn't stand a chance.

This was bad. The brunette was probably straight. Perhaps that's exactly why she seemed so irresistible to Clarke.
The barista had never been a victim of the infamous gay crush on a straight girl cliche.

Her jaw set and her blood streaked frosty through her veins.

Oh god, Clarke was becoming a cliche.

She passed a hand through her blonde locks in an attempt to soothe herself further from her conclusion.

The remainder of her shift was zoning out and periods where she absentmindedly hummed to herself when wiping down the rest of the previously used table tops.

The stuffy room spun around her as she slammed the butt of her shot glass to the chipped dorm coffee table.
She knew this wasn't her residence and as she had witnessed it becoming more and more trashed, she thanked god for the fact.

Clarke flicked her blonde waves out of her sight is a misguided lull of her head. It would've been a much swifter and effective maneuver had she been sober.
She looked down to her watch. It was 9:38 and she recalls arriving at the front door at about 8? She wasn't certain.

A tan hand smacked its palm on her left knee, squeezing for emphasis as the being beside her cackled uncaring at the ceiling.

Clarke smiled at the person, Raven, who's signature red jacket was tucked half way into the couch cushion beside the arm rest.

The blonde, in her own drunken stupor had completely forgotten what they'd been conversing about in the short moments prior of that shot.
Spirits gave her confidence to spill, not the intelligence to choose what she spilled wisely.

"S-so you're telling me," Raven slurred, lurching forward. Her chest touching her own thighs "That you're infatuated with a straight girl you've served twice?"

Clarke chuckled lightly with a grin, not floored the same way her roomie was at the fact.
"Yeah"

"Clarke, you're so-" The engineer gestured, both her palms facing upward and close together. Expression narrow like she'd dabbled in lemon slices that evening "utterly bizarre." Raven gushed, throwing her arms apart in example of an explosion.

"I think she sounds like an ice queen. Stay away sweet gay Clarke" Octavia confessed her opinion from the opposing side of Clarke. Throwing her hands around Clarkes neck to pull her into an embrace.

The blonde could only cackle at the young Blake being an affectionate drunk this evening.
Though she was having her head petted and it was as comforting as ever.

They were a trio of monkeys at this party. They didn't even particularly know the owners of the apartment.

Some guy called Murphy owned it. Clarke squinted trying to recollect the facts of her environment but shrugged away the effort.

"Aw, O. You're so caring when you're drunk." Clarke laughed out, leaning back against Blakes front.

"Don't be rude. I'm always caring." She said before turning her nose up in defiance.

"Hey, hey" Lincoln said as he appeared through the front door to the flat. A small smile on his mouth softening his otherwise intense features, looking directly at his plastered girlfriend who's sunken into the couch.

"What's up Lincoln, m'man!" Raven slurred out tensing her hand into a fist for a bro bump. He awkwardly knuckle bumped Reyes and she threw both hands over her head, face scrunched up with a loud whispered "Woo!" emitted from her wild agape mouth.

"Is it really time to go already?" Octavia said in a half baby voice. Some kind of puppy eyed technique she probably learned to get out of strife Bellamy dished her way as children. Clarke scoffed and rose from the couch, standing beside the fellow art student.

"Sure is, babe." Lincoln sighed, offering his hand down to her to take to hoist her up.

"Aww." She whined, placing her much smaller hand in his and being effectively lifted from that sinkhole of furniture.

The four made their way from the off campus apartment, Raven and Clarke in tow of the couple.

A small row of parking spaces before the outlining perimeter of a park further before them.

The dim lights that were lightly peppered around the place lit up small areas of sidewalk accompanied by green lush grass.

Clarke, in her numb intoxication, closed her eyes and took in the outside scene.

Fresh mountain air swept from the distance and swirled between buildings here. The breeze chilling her cheeks and played with her hair gently.
The unique scent of moisture, she heard the chipping of sprinklers further from her. The walk really cleared her head from the last drink of the night.

By the time she opened her eyes, Lincoln had already slotted himself into the drivers seat of his car. The interior lights on as the back door was still open, Raven climbing hands and knees into the opposing side seat to the window. The soft colours of her spectacular friends made her chest expand and her eyes water.

She needed to stop this emotion before it became embarrassing. Perhaps she was as out of the woods as she had first thought.
Clarke let out a laugh and sniffled into the wrist cuff of her sweater, wiping away the bubbling affection for her oblivious friends.

"C'mon Princess, the heaters on!" O called from the passengers seat. Interior light shining directly over her forehead.

Clarke chuckled further, "Yeah yeah" and climbed in after Raven.

Please pls let me know how you feel about this story line in a review
Sorry if it didn't have enough Lexa in it, again. I'm working her in as realistically as I can. I'm all about that realism
Hopefully you readers are on board for a third installment and don't mind how I approach the clexa relationship.
I do have a good build to tie it all together, I know it might seem I'm beating around the bush haha

Let me know what you think in a review and thank you for taking time out of your day to read my work.

: )