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“What are you reading?” Clarke flops down on top of him, falling awkwardly over the back of the couch, and he only just manages to move his book out of the way before she lands on him.
“Ow! Clarke, elbows.” He whines, and she grins at him.
“Sorry,” He knows she’s not. “What are you reading?”
“Harry Potter,” He shows her the cover, “The fourth one.”
“Again?” She laughs, wriggling around until she’s comfortable and getting the most out of the mid-afternoon sun. “Read it to me?”
“Sure thing, Princess.” He thumbed through the book until he found his page, resting his chin on her head as he picked up where he left off.
Clarke lay still for about seven pages before she began to fidget, her fingers drumming out a rhythm against his abdomen.
“If you’re not going to pay attention,” Bellamy shut the book, leaving his finger between the pages, so he could look at her.
“I am,” She promises, staring back at him. “I love listening to you read.” She leans up to smack a kiss against his lips before settling back with her cheek against his chest. “Keep going.”
“Stop distracting me,” He warns, tapping her nose and flipping the book open again.
“No promises.” She tangles their legs together and lets out a happy sigh.