Work Text:
Clarke stares down at her textbook blankly, mouth set in a firm straight line. She doesn’t even realize her right leg is bouncing underneath the table. She glances up, glaring at the back of the head of the guy that’s sitting at a table directly across the room from her. His head is bobbing slightly, and his curly hair moves with the motion.
Lookin' at every ass
Cheated on every test
I guess this is my dissertation
She can’t take it anymore. She springs out of her seat, taking long, quick strides to his table. The closer she gets, the louder the lyrics blare from his earphones. As she stops by the table, she feels her fingers twitch with how much she wants to reach out, rip them from his ears, and chuck them out into the hallway.
Despite her standing right next to him, the guy doesn’t notice her presence, eyes glued to the book in front of him, hand furiously scribbling into a notebook, head still fucking bobbing to his loud ass music. Angered even more by this, she slams her hands on the table, just above all his work.
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the way he flinched and jumped back. He looked up from her hands to her arms, finally landing on her face. She almost smirked at the annoyance that was written clearly across his features, his eyes glaring at her, eyebrows pulled together and mouth tilted down at the corner.
She pointed at her ear, raising an eyebrow at him, signaling for him to take his earphones out. She felt her jaw clench as he let out a bothered sigh. How dare he act like he was the one being inconvenienced?!
“What?” he asked curtly once he had paused his music and taken an earphone out.
“How the fuck are you not deaf?”
He blinked at her, face going blank. “Excuse me?”
Clarke leaned down and pointed at his ear that still had an earphone in it. “Dude, your music is so loud I can make out all of Kanye’s lyrics from across the fucking room.”
He kept staring at her blankly. “So?”
“So,” she said through clenched teeth, “it’s annoying. You’re at the college union, if you wanna blare your music go to your fucking room and do that. Other people are here studying.”
The guy leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. The blankness was fading back into the irritation he had initially been looking at her with. “Not my problem. I’m free to use this space as much as you are.”
“Then maybe you should be considerate of others instead of being a dick and listening to Good Morning so loudly that your eardrums should be bleeding.”
All of a sudden, his face changed again. “You know the song?”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Don’t change the subject, just lower your music or leave. I’m trying to study for a final.”
She turned to walk back to her table, her anger having subsided and having been replaced with the hope that he’d stop being the worst human being in the entire world.
“Wait!”
She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, sending a silent prayer to whatever God there may or may not be to just give me a quick ending, that’s honestly all I’m asking for.
Clarke spun on her heel, facing the guy again. “What is it?”
He was turned in his chair as well, facing her. She noticed that both earphones were out now. “I’m just… surprised. Most of the girls I’m friends with don’t know that song.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s old Kanye, makes sense. I just happen to think Graduation's his best album.”
The guy’s eyes went wide, and he pointed at his chest. “So do I!”
Clarke raised an eyebrow at him. “Congratulations, you have good taste. Now keep your music to yourself.”
She went to turn and walk away again, but he grabbed her hand, forcing her to face him again. This time she just looked at him expectantly, saying nothing and waiting for him to say whatever it was that he clearly needed to say.
“Do you wanna go out sometime?”
There was a moment of silence. Clarke was caught so off guard that her jaw went slack and her lips parted ever so slightly. Who the fuck asks someone who was just bitching them out on a date? This guy did apparently.
Finally, Clarke actually took in the guy she had been glaring at for the past hour. His dark curly hair was on the shorter side, but framed his face well. His equally as dark eyes stared at her intensely and without any hesitance or embarrassment, which was unexpected since he had just asked a complete stranger out. She noticed the light sprinkling of freckles across his nose and upper cheeks. She glanced down at his lips, lingering there a bit longer than necessary, she could admit. She looked down at their still joined hands, taking in how his fingers were long but his hand was rough on the inside. Her eyes trailed up, soaking in the lean muscle that was peeking out under the sleeves of his t-shirt. The shirt looked form fitting, which she wasn't complaining about at all.
How the fuck didn’t I noticed how hot he was when I was cursing right in his face?
There was no way he missed her obviously checking him out, but he didn’t comment on it, for which she was grateful.
She was suddenly very aware of how she must’ve looked and the way she was dressed. Her blonde hair was haphazardly pulled up into a messy bun held together by a pencil. She hadn’t put much thought into her outfit before leaving her apartment that morning, having thrown on her favorite t-shirt and whatever jeans had been at the top of the drawer. Forcing her hand to stay down at her side instead of brushing it through her hair like she desperately wanted to, she kept her face neutral as she brought her eyes up to steadily hold his gaze, which had unnervingly never wavered from her face. She tilted her chin up a bit, shrugged a shoulder, and pulled her hand out of his. She turned again, and this time he let her walk away.
When she got to her table, she hovered over her seat, and looked up at him. She was pleased but surprised to see that he was still looking at her, expression never having changed. She tried to fight back a smile, but somehow she felt that he knew anyway.
“If you keep your music down for the rest of the time we’re here, I’ll give you my number.”
Finally, he broke out into a grin. This time Clarke couldn’t hold it back, and she smiled back. He put his earphones back in and winked at her. “You got it, princess.”
She chuckled, sitting down, before remembering a key component to their interaction. She looked back up at him. His back was turned to her, but she was hoping he hadn’t started playing his music yet, or that it was low enough that he would be able to hear her.
“My name is Clarke, by the way.”
She wasn’t sure if she had just spoken to no one at all. Well, I feel dumb.
At least until he answered, still facing his work. “I’m Bellamy. But you’ll get to know more about me when we go on our date. For now you should get back to work, I wouldn’t want to distract you.”
Clarke’s laughter echoed loudly in the room before they both settled down and focused on their work again.
The rest of the time was spent in complete silence, and in the end, he did get her number and that date.