Chapter Text
Clarke looked at the flashing lines on the Timer that was lodged into her arm.
“Will this hurt?” Finn asked.
The woman was priming the Timer that would be put into his right wrist.
“It’s like getting your ears pierced,” Clarke replied, avoiding his eyes, wanting to avoid watching the man that she had been dating for the past month with far more hope than she wanted to let on. This had to be it. Scratch that, Clarke thought, tucking her hair behind her ear. This was it, she could feel it. Finn was perfect. Idealistic to offset her rather melancholic demeanour, funny, smart and handsome, he was everything her soulmate should be. Everything she wanted her soulmate to be.
Clarke continued to stare at the flashing lines on her Timer that were in the place of the numbers that should be the countdown until she met The One. The Timer Corporation had started selling the small Timers about five years ago. The small piece of metal would tell you when you met your other half, your soulmate, the one who you were destined to be with. The science was complicated, and to be honest, Clarke hadn’t really bothered to try and understand it, but she had the Timer implanted almost as soon as it had come onto the market. She had been greeted with lines instead of numbers, something that the woman who had implanted her Timer had clicked her tongue sympathetically at.
“Your Soulmate doesn’t have one,” she had explained, before leaving the room. Clarke had left soon after. She had spent the last five years bringing in any one she dated without the Timer to get it implanted. Not one had Timed Out. Not one was her soulmate.
Lexa had sniffed when her Timer was implanted, the numbers saying that her she would meet her Soulmate in just over a week. She had gently squeezed Clarke’s hand and, with a sympathetic smile from the technician; she glanced at the Timer again.
“It’s stupid,” she had said, “Who cares what the Timer says? We can be happy together. The science is bullshit anyway. What they have, like, a ninety-eight percent success rate?” she had laughed in the dismissive way that only Lexa could do. “Fuck it, Clarke. We will be the other two percent.”
Clarke had smiled, still disappointed. She liked Lexa, she did, but she wasn’t the one promised by contracts and pamphlets.
Lexa had met Costia exactly when her Timer said she would. Clarke hadn’t been there, something that she was relieved at. Would she have wanted to see the woman Lexa left her for? Their faces as they both Timed Out just as they bumped into each other in the coffee shop that had actually been Clarke’s favourite?
She hadn’t hated Lexa, or the others that had come before her. She had simply been disappointed, in a hollow kind of way. But this was it, Finn had to be it. Her mom loved him, Kane loved him, her friends loved him, and Clarke knew that it would be very easy for her to love him too. But she didn’t want to get her hopes up.
“Alright,” the technician said, “Eye contact please, you’ll want to be looking at your man when you Time Out together.” She smiled, “This is the best part of my job,” she said, almost to herself.
“Ready?” Clarke asked hesitantly, looking at Finn’s wide brown eyes. He nodded, quick and pale, his eyes shot to his arm. “Ready,”
Clarke squeezed his hand and the technician implanted the Timer in a quick movement.
Finn winced in pain, but then the numbers appeared on his forearm, clear as day. Clarke’s did not.
“Nine hundred and fifty three days…” he said, slowly and disbelieving. He gently slipped his hand out of Clarke’s and the technician shuffled before leaving, muttering a quiet “awkward” as she closed the door.
Clarke didn’t know what to say. Finn obviously didn’t either. He looked at the Timer and then he finally looked at Clarke.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said, before he too got up. “I don’t think…” he trailed off.
“It’s okay,” Clarke said, staring at the floor. “See you,”
Finn nodded, glanced at his Timer with a sort of incredulous awe and he walked out the room. Clarke left soon after.
The drive home was quiet. The walk up to the apartment she shared with Raven was quiet too. She unlocked the door and was greeted by a grinning Raven, whose smile melted when she saw Clarke’s face.
“Fuck,” she sighed, “Another one?”
Clarke nodded, feeling the same hollow disappointment she had come to so easily recognise.
“Hey, if it helps, as much as I liked him, I didn’t think he was the one for you,”
Raven moved to the fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out two bottles of beer. She passed one to Clarke without speaking and she pulled her onto the couch.
“Next one maybe,” she said.
“Can we talk about something else? Anything else? Anything at all,”
Raven frowned, “Come on, we have like three more packs of beer in the fridge, tequila in the cupboard and we even have some ice cream, which never happens,”
Clarke just sullenly looked at the wall. “Aren’t you going out tonight? With that guy who’s Timing Out tomorrow?”
Raven shrugged, “Yeah, well I can always cancel. There are so many more where he came from,” she grinned.
Raven’s Timer was counting down to when she was forty three, an age that Raven did not particularly want to wait until to finally meet someone she would spend the rest of her life with. Her solution: go out with guys whose Timers were just about to expire and who were not quite ready to commit to just one person. Raven was perfectly happy with this arrangement, something that Clarke, with her romantic conventionality and absolute belief in the system, did not quite understand.
“Look, Clarke,” Raven huffed, “Maybe you should just let it go? These things are just pieces of metal really, and speaking as a mechanic, there is actually very little credible science behind all of this. It’s just a bunch of stuff that really depends on chance. Why do you think they have you sign so many contracts when you get it implanted? So that you can’t sue the shit out of them if the person you Time Out with is a total asshole or a psychopath or something. Just…” she shrugged, “Date someone and don’t take them to get the Timer implanted. Better yet, get yours removed. Stop letting that shitty glorified computer chip, control your love life.”
Clarke nodded and forced a smile, before grimacing, “You know what, you’re actually right, I don’t want to think about this Timer thing anymore. Let’s go out, let’s go somewhere fun, somewhere where I can completely think about something else!”
“Yes, that’s my girl,” Raven yelled, grabbing Clarke into a rough embrace before racing off. “Wear something slutty! I know I am!” Clarke laughed in spite of herself and she pressed herself off the couch, hopeful for a night of careless oblivion.
XXX
As per usual, the idea of going out was far more exciting than the actual event. Clarke could vaguely see, through flashing lights, Raven drunkenly grinding against some guy. There were too many people, the music, which was bad to begin with, was far too loud and Clarke laughed absently at herself as the thought hit her: she was basically an old woman. At least the bartender kept passing her refills when she finished gingerly sipping at each margarita he passed her way. She yawned, and looked down the bar. She really was pathetic, curled over the glass, and eyes shifting to her friend who was making the most of the night out.
“You look as if you are having the best time; you’re like a walking advert for the bar, have they hired you or something to bring in more customers?” a chuckling, gravelly voice said behind her.
“Look here, asshole,” she said, swiveling her chair to face the man, “I don’t feel like being-”
She stopped.
Even through her slight dizziness from the multiple margaritas and the flashing lights, she could tell that the man who had spoken to her was attractive. He had curly, unruly hair and dark eyes. He was tall, wearing a white t-shirt, with his hands carelessly in his pockets. He smirked at Clarke and leaned against the bar next to her, as Clarke swiveled back.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he chuckled, his voice straining against the music, “Obviously, you’re very busy, but from across the bar you did look a little lonely.”
“I don’t want to be hit on, even if it is entertaining to see you try. Does this asshole routine work often?” she said, feigning shock. The man simply laughed and stuck out his hand.
“I’m Bellamy, and you are?”
“Clarke,” she said, through narrowed eyes, but she shook his hand anyway.
“I hate to break it to you, but I wasn’t hitting on you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re attractive, and if you didn’t have the whole depressive alcoholic thing going on, you would probably have more than just me trying to talk to you,”
Clarke scoffed, “Then why are you talking to me?”
“Would you believe me if I said that you were sitting on my jacket?” Bellamy chuckled.
Clarke blushed, seeing that she was indeed sitting on a jacket.
“Oh no!” she said, mortified but laughing slightly, “I’m so sorry,” she moved off the stool and Bellamy pulled his jacket off the chair and over his arm.
“I’ve been sitting here for ages, why didn’t you say something earlier?” she said, eyes wide and cheeks heating up.
“Truthfully, I thought that you would join your friend, he looked at Raven, “I thought that I could just come and get it discretely, but now we’re leaving and I couldn’t leave it for much longer,” he grinned, gesturing to a very pretty girl who was
standing by the door.
“Oh, your girlfriend…” Clarke stopped when Bellamy started laughing.
“Err, no. That’s my sister,” he turned to look at the girl, who gestured for Bellamy to come.
“I better go, thanks Clarke. This conversation made my evening,” he winked and Clarke couldn’t tell if that was sarcasm too. He turned to leave before pausing.
“Listen,” he began, turning back around. “You seem… I mean…” he sighed and he ran his hands though his hair, “Can I have your number? We can continue talking about my poor pick up methods over coffee or something?”
His attitude shift from cocky to awkward made Clarke laugh and she nodded. She passed him her phone and he passed her his. She put her number into his phone and he handed her phone back.
“Okay, I will text you or call you or whatever,”
“Perfect,” Clarke smiled.
Raven came almost as soon as Bellamy had left and she yelled, “YES!”
She danced jerkily while hugging Clarke, “He’s perfect!” she yelled into Clarke’s ear, “He’s so nice looking… yummy… I saw you totally flirting with the hot guy!”
“We weren’t-” Clarke protested but Raven had pried herself off of Clarke and was now dancing again, ignoring Clarke’s objections.
“I think it’s time to go home,” Clarke said, looking at Raven who now sulkily looked at Clarke, but allowed for her to steer her out of the building.
“You had fun, yes?” Raven mumbled.
“Tons,” Clarke said, thinking of brown eyes and dark curls.
XXX
Clarke woke up the next morning, feeling a little less depressed than she thought she would. She thought that she should perhaps be a little more upset about the Finn thing. It wasn’t that she wasn’t disappointed, but the morning brought the realisation that she wasn’t disappointed that Finn wasn’t her soulmate; she was simply disappointed that she still had to wait. She yawned and stretched, reaching for her phone where several messages were listed on the screen.
The first was from her mother. It read: “Hi Clarke, hope everything your side is well. How did the implantation do with Finn? I always thought-”
Clarke sighed at the message and scrolled to see if there were any messages worth opening and result in her guiltily replying to all of them.
The name popped up and Clarke couldn’t help but smile. The message from Bellamy was short but Clarke swiped and replied, feeling all thoughts about failed soulmates leave her head.
XXX
That Saturday, Bellamy was waiting in the coffee shop, wearing glasses and reading a book. Clarke smiled when she saw him. He was much more attractive without the flashing strobe lights and Clarke took a deep breath before she walked into the coffee shop. He looked up as the door opened and he smiled an uneven smile and stood up.
“Clarke, great to see you less intoxicated,”
“Shut up,” she said, slumping into seat.
“What, no ‘great to see you, too, Bellamy’?”
“I’m not yet convinced that it is,”
“Understandable,”
She shook her head and laughed, “It is great to see you too, Bellamy.” She said, rehearsed and playful. Bellamy rolled his eyes.
“You just having coffee?” he asked. Clarke nodded and he got up to order. He brought back two giant mugs and Clarke sipped gratefully.
“So Clarke,” Bellamy asked, “What do you do?”
“Careful,” she warned, “Don’t get too personal. We’ve basically just met, and you should be careful. You don’t know if you want to be my friend yet,”
“Too true,” Bellamy paused, as if considering Clarke’s point. “Eh, I think I’ll risk it.”
Clarke chuckled and answered, “I’m an illustrator. I mainly do children books but I also paint artwork that gets exhibited in the gallery a few blocks from my apartment.”
“Anything that I might know? The books I mean,”
“Read a lot of children’s books do you?”
“Always, I can’t stand books with big words,”
“I got that feeling when I met you,”
Bellamy laughed, a loud laugh that brought a few stares from the patrons around them.
“I did quite a bit of work on a series by Leslie McGrath a few years ago. They sold really well actually. They were the series about a kid who made friends with his stuffed giraffe and they travelled the world together. It was great to experiment with different art mediums. I did a lot of watercolours for them, but Leslie wanted sort of elements from traditional art work depending on which country they were visiting. I loved trying out the different techniques and trying to still make the pieces appropriate for a children’s book. Melding the two-” she paused.
Bellamy nodded, as if to ask her to continue but Clarke just grinned sheepishly, “This is why you shouldn’t ask me about what I do. I go into far too much detail.”
“No, not at all, it’s really interesting. It’s great when people love what they do.”
“What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m actually a writer,”
“Anything I might know?” she said, mirroring his question.
“The ones I’ve written haven’t been incredibly popular. They tend to be mostly speculative fiction, they do well enough I suppose. I teach a creative writing course as well at Ark University in a temp position but it helps,”
“What are they called? The books? I’m sure I’ve heard of them. At least I’m sure that I’m more likely to recognise them if you actually tell me what they’re called.”
“Well, I wrote the ‘Ninth Charter’ series, and then a few other novels. The one that was most popular was ‘Evenings in Lithuania’.”
Clarke shook her head, “I haven’t heard of them sorry.”
Bellamy laughed, “You and most of the world,”
The conversation continued, Clarke telling Bellamy about her catastrophic partnership with the author Arthur West who had wanted to make his novel, which had been set in medieval times, full of intricate calligraphy, which had resulted in several phone calls from the publishers and many angry emails from the author himself.
“So obviously, it never got published,” she finished and Bellamy laughed, loudly again. They refilled their coffees and the conversation continued. Bellamy told Clarke about his sister, Octavia who was marrying her soulmate in three months’ time.
Clarke paused after Bellamy mentioned soulmates and Bellamy did too.
“Do you have one?” Clarke found herself asking, before her brain had anytime to register the words.
“One what?”
“A Timer?”
Bellamy shook his head, “No, I don’t want one.”
“Why not?” Clarke asked, cursing at how callous it sounded.
“I already found my soulmate and she died. Getting one would cheapen what we had.” He stopped and looked at Clarke with a sad look.
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Her name was Gina. We were engaged until about six years ago. She was stabbed in a robbery gone wrong one night when she was walking home. She bled out before someone found her and called the ambulance.”
Clarke didn’t know how to respond so she didn’t.
“Anyway, the Timers came out shortly after that and it was a stupid thought to get one and to find someone else,”
“Totally,” Clarke said, half-heartedly and quiet.
“Fuck,” Bellamy muttered, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a total downer,” he grinned again and Clarke smiled back.
They didn’t talk about Timers after that, but the conversation did continue. A while after, Clarke looked at the clock on the wall and apologised to Bellamy.
“I’m meant to meet Raven in half an hour,”
Bellamy looked at the clock too and his eyes widened, “We’ve been here for hours,”
“You’re good company,”
“Likewise,”
The stood in silence for a moment before Bellamy cleared his throat.
“Let me walk you to your car,”
Clarke smiled thankfully and they left together.
XXX
“So he doesn’t have a Timer?” Raven asked, her face contorting into displeasure. “Clarke, I thought that we were breaking your pattern.”
Monty rolled his eyes and Jasper just sighed, “Raven, you’re making this more than it really is. He is opposed to getting one, which sort of breaks Clarke’s pattern… sort of…” Jasper gazed off into the distance, as if contemplating exactly what he had tried to explain.
Monty rolled his eyes again, “Just do what makes you happy, Clarke. He sounds nice,”
Raven sighed, and pulled herself up to rest her back against the arm of the couch. “Well at least he’s hot.”
“Yeah, at least,” Clarke rolled her eyes, meeting Monty’s gaze and they both smiled.
Raven pursed her lips, “Are you going to see him again?”
“Friday night, actually, we’re going to dinner.”
“Okay, that’s a good sign,” Monty said,
“Why? I don’t get it…” Jasper said, frowning at his friend.
“Coffee is a casual date that you can easily get out of. Nobody expects a coffee to be a long thing. So if you don’t click, you can get out of there as soon as you like,” Raven explained.
“Dinner is more of a commitment, it’s like saying ‘I like you enough to be stuck with you for three or four hours easy’” Monty finished.
Jasper’s nose crinkled, “I knew I should have asked Jessica to just coffee,”
Clarke giggled and Raven swatted Jasper’s arm. “What’s wrong with Jessica? I thought that she was cute.”
“Looks can be deceiving. She’s cute on the outside, fucking crazy on the inside. She started banging her wrist on the table to try and get her Timer to go off, while she just stared at me. I don't think she blinked at all. I tried to avoid her gaze as much as possible but..." he shuddered, "I was more than happy to leave,”
Monty sneered and shoved his friend playfully. “You are actually such a hopeless romantic. You would’ve stuck with her if you had Timed Out,”
“Well, I would’ve liked her if we had Timed Out. I mean, aren’t you basically ensured that you will like your soulmate?”
“Was Clarke the only one who read the brochure?” Raven laughed, “There are all sorts of ways you can first interact with your soulmate. There is no guarantee that you will like them. The Timer only tells you when they’ve met them.”
“Sounds like a lot of work for the guarantee that its The One you're destined to be with. Weren't these things supposed to make the whole relationship thing easier?” Jasper yawned.
“It’s supposed to be worth it,” Clarke whispered, her eyes catching the flashing lines on her wrist.