She felt warm.
She slowly opened up her eyes and adjusted toward the darkened room. She took in the bare covered walls, the flow of wind from the open window and the steady breathing from something next to her.
She turned her head slightly to see him sleeping soundly behind her. A peaceful look upon his face.
She didn't even remember falling asleep. He had taken her up to the roof and they had stayed there for what seemed like hours. A small infinity of pure content. Eventually, they had gone back down to his room. The party goers had left and she offered to help clean up but he had shaken his head and told her to just wait in his room and then he would take her home.
The last thing she remembered was sitting on top of his comforter listening to him laugh quietly with his sister.
She knew her mother would be furious but that didn't motivate her enough to move. She felt so content where she was. She felt safe. All the pain she carried seemed to be further away than it usually was.
She gently laid her head back onto the pillow and snuggled under the blankets with a brief smile on her face.
Just when she was about to fall back under, she heard him mumble under his breath and move closer toward her. She froze and opened her eyes when she felt his arm circle her waist, locking her in place against him. His breath was right against the back of her neck.
She grew anxious at first. Mostly nervous that she would move and bump into him; causing him to stir away from her. She counted in her head before the feeling of his heartbeat set her to sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, the room was filled with a pale glow. She turned her head but she didn't have to look to know he wasn't there. The warmth she felt when she woke up in the middle of the night was gone. She ran her hands over his side before she sat up on the bed.
She listened for a sound but there wasn't any.
She yawned and sat up, throwing her hands over her head as she stretched. She slowly pulled herself off of the bed and onto the harsh wooden floor. Compared to the wood floor at home, this one was covered in scratches and cracks. Her mother would have a field day about it. She found herself in awe of it, tracing it briefly with her toes.
She shook her head and peeked at herself slightly from the mirror hanging off of his closest. Her long-sleeved shirt was wrinkled around her waist, her hair was more frizzy that usual and the light makeup she had wore last night must have rubbed of onto his pillow.
She bit her lip as she turned at stared at the bed.
She never felt that with a person before. Besides sleepovers with Wells growing up, she never shared a bed with a boy before.
Her skin grew hotter at the remembrance of warmth wrapped around her like vine. She took a few moments before she walked toward the bed and quickly made it. She smoothed out the comforter before turning toward his dresser picking up her bag from his sister and her phone (she didn't bother to check her phone, her mother would repeat everything she left on her phone in the next few hours in person.). She glanced at his bedroom door in confusion. Would he be out there? What was she to say?
She took a deep breath and opened his bedroom door and listened. It was then that she heard soft whispers and the clattering of dishes.
She walked down the small hallway to see the back of his head and his sister's bright face.
"Morning sleepyhead." Octavia smirked as she glanced into her cereal bowl.
She watched as he turned his head slightly, as she had done in the middle of the night to check that he was there. He coughed slightly before he stood up, offering her his chair.
They stared at another. She wondered if he remembered how tightly he had held her last night. If he had wanted to remember it, anyway. He stared at her for another moment before he glanced toward the fridge with a weird look on his face. "We have cereal or uh-toast if you're hungry."
She remembered the warmth again. The feeling of his skin almost on top of hers. She glanced at the ground. "I should probably get home." She looked up and watched his face harden, as if she was setting some boundary she hadn't realized. "My mom. She's already probably freaking out."
He nodded his head even though his jaw remained locked in place. "I have to be at the shop in a bit so-."
"I can take her." Octavia chipped in. She had forgotten she was even in the room. She turned toward him, wanting to rub away the hard look on his face with her fingertips but she remained rooted where she was.
"Alright." He nodded he head and looked back at her. His face was a bit softer now but not as much. The small dimple in his chin stood out to her and she wondered what it would feel like underneath her lips. "I'll see you."
She wanted to ask when and where and how but all the questions only remained flooded around in her brain.
She held on tightly to the bag in her hands and prayed her voice wouldn't waver, showing her uncertainty. "I'll see you."
He nodded at her and pulled out his keys from his pocket before tossing them to Octavia. He glanced at her once more before he turned and walked down the hallway.
Why was this eating her away so bad? She stared down the now empty hallway and only turned away when she heard Octavia clear her throat.
"Ready?"
Even though she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the warmth she felt, she said yes.
...
"Did you not think to call me?"
She sat on the stiff white couch as her mother paced in front of her. She had gotten home less than ten minutes ago and after reassuring her mother she was alright, she had gotten a full on lecture. As if she wasn't a nineteen year old who spent most of her time abiding to the rules her mother had always set up for her.
Do this. Do that. Don't say this. Don't act like that. Wear this. Talk to these people. Don't talk to those people.
"Clarke? Are you even listening to me?"
She glanced at her mother.
Her life felt like a production. From her mother dictating whom she could hangout with, to what she should look like. She never felt like herself within the walls of her home, at least not anymore.
There was a time when she would laugh loudly, even a bit absurdly. A time where she felt so much love. A time where there wasn't a thick wall of tension behind every crevice.
That was so long ago that it felt like a dream to even think it was once her life.
She glanced up at her mother but was only answered with a shake of her head. "If only your father could see you now." Her mother shook her head once more before walking out of the room.
She felt her hands shake in her lap as they remained interlocked.
Her body felt the impact it had when she last saw her father. She could hear his voice in her ear encouraging her to get out of the car that had trapped them both. She could smell fire. She could smell burning flesh.
Her pulse grew faster. She stood up on shaky feet and swayed slightly before she turned and headed toward her room. She tripped slightly but it didn't make an impact to what was already going on in her head.
She climbed the stairs and bolted toward her room. She slammed it shut behind her and sunk down onto her knees.
She just needed to breathe. She brought a hand to her mouth and sobbed into it, muffling her sound. Her breathing grew harsher as she cried harder. Images flooded her brain. The warmth that rushed to her skin wasn't the warmth she felt this morning.
This warmth was cunning. This warmth wrapped around her and caused her skin to boil. This warmth caused her to lose the one thing she loved most in this world. This warmth caused her to lose herself.
She banged her head against the back of her door and let out a sigh.
She thought hard about last night on the roof. The memories fresh in her mind helped block the ones that would never leave. She felt his rough hand in her own. She thought about his voice when he asked her to trust him and how she did so without a second thought.
She let out another shaky breath before she stood up and walked toward her bed. She burrowed under her comforter and sought out the warmth that made her feel wanted. The warmth that made her feel peace instead of destruction.
Though the warmth never came, the memories lulled her to sleep.
...
She found herself in the library.
She pulled out old classics and sat down on the ground to read them. She told her mother she was going shopping with a few friends from high school but it was a simple excuse to get out of the house; to get away from her. Traveling to space wouldn't even be far enough.
She ran her fingers over the crisp pages and sighed in content. She got lost in the story in her lap that she didn't budge until she felt someone kick her foot, twice.
She glanced up to see Wells standing above her with a grin on his face. He shook his head before he sank down onto the ground across from her. "I stopped by your house and your mom said you were shopping with Raven Reyes and her posse. So of course my first choice to actually look for you was here."
She smirked as she closed the book in her lap. "I guess I'm predictable."
"Highly the opposite." Wells was silent for a few moments before his face turned serious. Because he knew her so well, she barely had to say a word to him. "Want to talk about it?"
She wanted to talk about everything going on in her head but the words didn't match up to the feelings she had in her body. She wanted to talk about how her mother infuriated her. She wanted to talk about how much she hated Yale. She wanted to talk about how much her brain thought about Bellamy Blake (she only managed to catch his last name by someone calling him it at the party last night, it fit him, like everything else).
Wells would understand how she felt about her mother because he had felt the same way about his father. Wells put up with it better though. Wells could go into a full room and make everyone like him.
She would walk into a full room and keep to herself.
She turned her attention back toward Wells and watched him give her a small smile. A genuine smile with just the right amount of shyness.
"How about a hike?"
She smiled and shook her head like a small child (even though she still believed that Wells hated hiking). Wells laughed and stood up, offering her his hand. She grasped it tightly in her own and pulled herself up. She carefully walked down the row of books and carefully placed them back before she jumped and followed Wells out of the library.
They drove to beaten down hiking trails across down. Clarke smiled at the fresh smell from the trees and the smell of rebirth from the flowers across the ground floor. They didn't talk as they hiked. She smiled with every step and she was certain Wells groaned but he didn't complain because he knew she needed this.
They climbed up a makeshift mountain craved in the earth. Wells stood against a tree but she went toward the edge and breathed in the wind. She breathed in the stillness.
It was moments like this that she thought about her father most. The true beauty in the world that he taught her to look for. The beauty he had taught her to love. They would spend hours in the woods, sketching trees and flowers as they explored the land together. He always encouraged her to be herself in the woods. He always encouraged her to stop and smell the roses.
Her heart hammered in her chest at the loss of him.
"Clarke?"
She took a moment, wiped her face and plastered a smile on, something her mother taught her to do well. "Race you down."
There were some mountains she wasn't ready to climb yet.
...
She wandered aimlessly through the Collins household.
She often found herself wandering away from any member of the Collins family. Henry Collins because he asked her questions she hated to answer. Caroline Collins because she acted worse than her own mother. Lastly, Finn Collins because she could only handle his puppy eyes during their weekly brunch.
However it was Caroline and Henry's twenty-fifth anniversary and her mother wouldn't let her stay home.
She heard Finn calling her name and she quickly ducked into the bathroom on the second floor. The bathroom was modern and covered in blacks and grays.
She locked the door and leaned against it because she made her way to the middle of the bathroom facing the large mirrors. She had worn the purple dress Octavia had gotten her. It was almost the same style as the last one but instead of it being strapless, there were a fine dark lace covering that ended up below her elbows. It had looked hand stitched on.
She tore her eyes away from her reflection as she sat herself down on the closed to toilet and counted to two hundred before she emerged back out. She ran her hand against the wall as she reached the stairs.
Also rolling her eyes at how quickly Finn appeared at the bottom step.
She took a deep breath as she slowly walked down. There were people chattering all around but she didn't hear them. "Hey."
She nodded as she watched him tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. It was getting too long. "Hey." She brought her arms across her chest.
Finn glanced at her arm and sighed. "How have you been?"
She turned her head and kicked at the ground with her silver ballet slipper. She shrugged. She felt uncomfortable. She wanted to be in the walls of her room or in the warmth she found herself craving. "I'm alright."
He took a breath and gestured toward the nearly empty sitting room across from them. "Can we talk?"
She thought of all the reasons she shouldn't but she found herself walking behind him toward the sitting room. The sitting room was all white. She stood out against the white walls. "Talk."
He stood up straighter at her tone, tucking his hair once again behind his ear. "I just wanted to apologize." He coughed. "For last time."
She crossed her arms tighter across her chest. Remembering when he grasped her arm so tightly and how much it hurt her, even hours later. She couldn't find it in herself to stay mad though. She stared at his sunken face and the downcast of his eyes. She took a deep breath as glanced around the room before settling her eyes on him. "It's alright."
He let a breath. "It's not alright and I wasn't right. As much as I want something else with you." He looked at her the way he always looked at her. It caused her to turn away. "I really just need in you my life. Even as a friend."
She had missed Finn as her friend. Feelings had gotten in the way of their friendship so early in the game but he had talked to her at least once a week while she had been at Yale. He even offered to Skype her when she stayed in on the weekends. Though his intent might not have been different, she had appreciated everything he did.
She lowered her arms and twirled a piece of hair around her finger. "Just friends though."
"Scout's Honor."
She was pretty sure he was holding his fingers up wrong but she smiled slightly anyway.
He smiled at her and lowered his hand, his cheeks slightly red. She heard his father call out his name. Her eyes widened and he shrugged. "I'll see you."
He had turned before he could see the way she stood still at the simple phrase. Already thinking of the boy who had said it to her first.
She didn't think. She walked out of the sitting room and headed toward the large front door. Not looking back as it shut loudly behind her.
...
She paced at the back door of The Ark.
She was still in her purple dress but she had tossed her hair up into a simple bun. This was a stupid idea. She didn't even know what she was doing. She hadn't seen him for almost a week and she was pretty certain he was avoiding her.
Even when she went to brunch last Tuesday, he hadn't entered the dining room once (no matter how hard she stared at the doors).
She jumped from side to side and gave a weak groan. What was she doing? She didn't do things like this. She didn't leave parties without telling her mother to try and find a boy that probably didn't even think twice about her. She bit her lip. She shook her head and started to walk away.
Then the door opened.
She turned around and watched him stand before her, only lightened by the weak light at the back door. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a white shirt with a dark grease stain across it. It was so simple. So him.
His head tilted as he took in her appearance. "What are you doing here?"
Though his words weren't spoken harshly, it stabbed at her. She stood where she was. She tilted her chin up and crossed her arms across her chest, as if she was protecting her own heart physically. Not that it even mattered. It hammered recklessly at the sight of him. "You're avoiding me."
He looked away and shook his head. "How did you even get here? Should I look for a magic pumpkin?"
She narrowed her eyes, not wavering. She took a small step in his direction, her ballet shoes shimmering in the dark. "What are you so afraid of?" Her voice was soft but she knew he had heard her by the look that washed over his face.
He brought a hand through his hair and ruffled it, a sight she found herself grow weak for every time he did it.
When his eyes finally reached hers, he looked small. His shoulders were hung. His eyes were so focused on her own; as if she wasn't real. It unsettled her and it made her feel on fire at the exact same time.
It made her feel the warmth they shared in his bed. It made her feel like she was coming out of a darkened place. It made her feel completely and utterly, alive.
"You."
"What? Why would-." She was cut off as he walked quickly toward her. He brought one hand to the back of her head and brought his lips so closely to hers that she could feel his breath against her own. She could feel his erratic heart beating along with hers.
He took a shaky breath before he leaned his forehead against hers. His hands remained in her hair before slowly bringing it down toward her neck, leaving a trail of goose-bumps as it went.
"You scare the hell out of me, Clarke." She didn't say anything. She didn't move. "You're so much better than me." His fingers trailed across her neck. "So much better than I will ever deserve but I can't stop thinking about you." He let out a breath. "I don't think I want to."
She tried to say something but it died in her throat. Her mind swarmed. She brought her hands toward his face and trailed a finger down his cheek.
She took a moment and soaked in the feeling she was wrapped in. The feeling of his hands. The feeling of his heart racing against her own. They were wrapped around each other as they had been in the middle of the night, days ago. He caused her to feel so many things so simply and all at once.
She turned off her brain and connected her lips to his.