Work Text:
She? Just a tease.
Her body? Something he carves for.
Her heart? Something that isn’t his.
All in all it is like a dream. A mixture of desire and want building up this thrill, his thrill to be exact Nobody knows.
A relationship like theirs? Very hard to find. You could say they are some kind of friends, sometimes enemies. He has known her for such a long time, saw her changes, the same goes for her - she knows him just as well.
He still tries to remember how it all started - but honestly, he can’t tell, it all just happened too much and too quickly and then it was repeating itself. Always repeating itself.
Her boyfriends and girlfriends came and went, just like that - never much fuss and talk about them. But he, well he was there the whole time, the guy she didn't really like but was best friends with somehow. The one that has to catch her whenever she falls but never get what he wants - well that was until that one night.
Her new boyfriend? A failure.
She usually has got a better taste, even the ladies were better. Seriously? Someone who wears his hat to the side? Wasn’t it all tattoo’s and piercings last week? Taste changes fast now, but one thing will always be the same.
BANG! BANG!
A knock on the door - She let herself in, like she always did, standing with her back to the door, the one she just closed, waiting until he looked at her. Never once moving before she has him looking at her. His eyes scanning over her body, god dammit it’s a sin that he still longs for her, that he keeps begging for more.
“Hi.” Her voice whispers ever so softly, yet so seductive.
“Hey.” He manages to breath out, her blue eyes starring deeply in his brown ones, capturing and enrapturing him right there, seeing the longing.
Her blonde waves are pulled in a messy bun. She had run and hurried here, to do what exactly he still didn't know, but probably to hide again?
Meanwhile he is still struck by her looks. The clothes fitting her curves just right, her beauty taking his breath away with the simplest outfit. Just some skinny jeans, a rather familiar looking shirt and a light cardigan.
Compared to her? - He looked like a mess. His hair disheveled, the shirt he was wearing slightly ripped and lastly his glasses askew. Denim style. Black skinny jeans…she liked those. He has got to make most of his chances. That’s what he lives from, doesn't he?
One second to the other her clothes hit the floor. No warning, or any sign. His following right after. Their tradition - quiet, no questions asked.
It all begins. How could he say no now, he could never tell no, no matter what she asked.
It’s their little game.
Who’s to blame? Definitely her.
Who’s scoring so far? He has no clue.
But he simply smiles, grins and then smirks even. It’s not the first time, like already mentioned. Their game. Always repeating itself. With new boyfriends every time. But what matters is them. What they do. So innocent, yet so bad. A secret desire but a long awaited want.
He always wonders how she feels. She switches between everything. Her boyfriends and him. Her taste. Just everything.
But deciding on something? No she doesn’t decide. She’s just too used on switching. He even thinks she lost the ability to choose, can’t tell him if she wants him or the other guy or girl more. But his heart longs for an answer to stop suffering, while his mind wanders off thinking about the fun again. He's a guy so sue him.
But he can’t decide anything without ruining things, so he has got no chance to win. It’s the part of the game he always loses.
Maybe a weakness of him, but definitely a point more for her to get the score.
BANG! BANG!
A knock again.
Does his wish finally come true? Maybe.
Will he be scoring now? Hopefully.
“Is it him, Bell?” she whispered so quietly, in a fearful voice.
It has to be him. So the truth sets her under pressure. That's his time to score. His time to win. Time to end the game.
“Maybe.” He smirked, her squirming, his winning. He kissed her again. Desire. Want. Lust. Victory.
And here is the thrill. The thrill that keeps the game going. The one, he lives for and part of him thinks she does too.
“I think I should break up with him.” She smiles suddenly so calmly.
“And then what, Clarke?”
Has he won now? He did.
Is it over? He won’t know.
Will it start again? Possibly.
“We’ll see.” A grin appeared on her face.
He didn’t get the prize he wanted.
So let the games begin, again.
"It's a game, she's to blame
But who's keeping score?
I'm not in it to win
You can tell by my grin
That I've done this before
So let the games begin"