Chapter Text
Clarke was exhausted. She never thought her second year would be so hectic. In fact, people had always warned her that her first year would be the real shock and everything after that would almost come as a result of instinct. Ha! Yeah right. With work at the bar and her pre-med programs, Clarke was lucky to get 5 hours of sleep every night. It was taking a toll on her – she could see that everyday in the mirror – and Octavia made that fact clear to her every morning she opted for a bun instead of some moose. If it weren’t for her roommate and best friend Octavia, though, Clarke isn’t sure how she’d remain sane. Octavia had a way of helping Clarke let loose when she needed it most.
She’s known Octavia two years now, and she thanks her lucky stars that she got paired with her as a roommate that September of her very first year of college… even if her older brother did scare the crap out of her that day. Bellamy was intimidating, to say the least. He was tall, dark and handsome – the typical hot, bestfriends-older-brother package. Yet, he wasn’t anything close to being typical. His splatter of freckles always had a way of reminding Clarke of that. They gave him this aura of innocence, which Clarke knew he didn’t really have. Well, maybe sometimes. He had a way of being sweet - a gentleman - at the most arbitrary moments. No matter how many screaming fights he and Clarke got into over his over-protectiveness of Octavia or his arrogant, smart-ass attitude, he never stopped doing those little things so many guys forgot about – like holding the door open for her, or bringing her coffee after a Starbucks date with Octavia because he knew she’d be at her desk dying for one.
The thing was, Bellamy and Clarke had grown to understand each other over the past two years. And they’d grown into a sort of routine around each other – screaming or getting along. Throwing objects across the room at each other or crashing on the sofa beside each other to Netflix. Not many people understood their dynamic, either. Their group of friends always had a way of chalking it up to sexual tension, but Clarke knew better. Bellamy knew better – or atleast she hoped he did. She knew their relationship needed to stay platonic, no matter how many close calls they have had with each other. She knew it could never work, not that she’d ever thought about him in that way. Of course not. She knew all this, and yet…She could also see how similar they were. Octavia would scream it at her on the regular, but Clarke knew she wasn't talking a load of crap because she noticed it, too. She noticed, at first, how stubborn they both were. Hell, anyone would notice that. But she also noticed the way they could sit and talk for hours about Bellamy's nerdy Roman history obsession, or her artwork that she'd never have the guts to pursue. She noticed how they clicked - how they became comfortable around each other within the first two weeks of knowing one another. She noticed how passionate they both were.
Clarke mentally chastised herself, because, SHIT, she had brought up that can of worms again.
Now, Clarke was an independent, rational, levelheaded girl; she’s always been that way. She tries not to rely on her mother for cash, much rather preferring to work at the bar on campus, and ever since her father passed, she’d learnt to just keep a comfortable distance, never relying too heavily on anyone, let alone her family. That being said, Clarke has seen some shit. And through all the shit she’s encountered, through all the drama she’s faced – such as cheating ex boyfriends – Clarke has always remained the rational one. But the moment she met Bellamy that September morning, all that rational thought and cool exterior went flying out the window of her dorm room. She still remembers that day so vividly, and she really tries not to run over it in her mind, but sometimes she can’t help herself.
“Mom! I am fine, I promise. Everything looks great so far and I haven’t even seen my room yet.”
“Clarke, honey, I just wish I could be there. If Mrs. Vandenburg hadn’t gone into an early labour…”
“Mom, let’s not get mad at the pregnant woman, and instead focus on how exciting this is. I can’t believe this is all happening…”
“Oh sweetie, I am so excited for you. Your father would have loved this.” Clarke tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat at that. It was moments like these where she would give anything to have her father helping her carry her boxes instead of the kid wearing goggles beside her. He was really a sweetheart. James? John? Jasper? She couldn’t remember his name for the life of her, but she smiled at him anyway. He was currently lugging around one of her brown boxes, labeled ‘Clothes’, while Clarke dragged her suitcase in one hand, and held her phone in the other. It was the third trip they’d made together up to the second floor, and Clarke could see the pile of boxes outside her room at the end of the hall.
“Honey, have you seen your room yet?”
“Not yet, Mom. Just finishing with all my crap before the big moment.” Clarke wanted to make sure all her things were in order before unveiling her new living quarters for the next year.
“Alright, well let me know! We should Skype later.” Doubtful, since her mom would probably be at the hospital all night.
“Yeah, of course. Talk to you soon,” Clarke had said anyway.
Clarke hung up her phone and turned to look at the adorable boy wearing goggles on his head once they’d reached her dorm. “Thank you so much, again, for helping me out. And here I was thinking chivalry was dead…”
“It’s no big thing – you looked like you were going to wipe out carrying all those boxes at once, anyway.”
Clarke smiled at him, trying to suppress her laughter at the fact that he did, indeed, look just as flustered now. “Here,” she said passing him her cell, “add your phone number so I can take you out for a beer sometime to thank you.”
Goggle boy’s eyes widened at that and Clarke hoped to God he didn’t take that the wrong way. She made a vow to herself that she would step out of her comfort zone and make friends in College. More than the three or four she had made in high school.
“Yeah! Forsure! That’d be awesome! I could introduce you to some of my friends,” he said while typing in his information, and Clarke deflated, relieved. He passed her back her cell, and she looked down to see his name was, in fact, Jasper.
“Thanks again, Jasper. I’ll see you soon, I guess.”
“Absolutely,” he said waving, as he turned to leave.
Clarke was smiling to herself as she slid her dorm room key in. Before she turned the knob, she took a deep breath, hoping for a comfy mattress and sane roommate. Instead, what she got was an unbelievably attractive guy sitting on one of the single beds.