Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - First Encounter

The most popular java establishment in Polis was Grounded Ark Café; it was so populated that around lunchtime, when college students were animated and bustling around before classes like headless chickens for their coffee fix, it was absolutely mobbed. It wasn't just the college students that swarmed the café around lunchtime, though, as there were countless frequenters that worked in nearby office buildings and stores that took their lunch breaks to go grab a cup of java, too. As such, tables filled up quickly, sometimes forcing loners sitting at a table to share.

While the café itself had a comforting yesteryear appearance, that wasn't what kept people returning. No, it was the award winning, turn-you-into-a-coffee-drinker java that had customer's toes curl in sick delight with each sip and return thereafter with goofy, childlike grins plastered on their faces in anticipation. Yes, it was just that good. Or perhaps it was just the reasonable prices and the fact that it was the only café in town… Who knows.

"Hey there, Clarke, you want your regular?" The barista, Echo, asked with a friendly smile on her face.

When she first moved to Polis, Clarke visited the Grounder Ark Café after a late night working, thankful for how ungodly late the café was open to. That fateful first experience led her to become a regular, addicted to the coffee just as much as the people and busyness of the establishment itself. She loved to people watch―an existing trait in all artists, or so that's what Clarke claimed to justify it.

She usually arrived around lunchtime―sometimes a little later and on some days not at all if she was too hung up with work―for her cup of coffee. It was a busier time of day for the café that allowed her to people watch almost undetected while she simultaneously enjoyed a delectable to-go cup of coffee. This, in turn, caused the majority of the servers to recognize her and eventually learn her name and order.

"Hey. Yes, please, thank you, Echo," Clarke replied with a soft smile of her own as she pulled out her credit card from her purse.

"Coming right up," the barista replied after she rang up Clarke's order, selecting the largest to-go cup available for coffee in the shop, uncapped a Sharpie marker and scribbled Clarke's name along the side before scuffling off to make said brew.

After ordering, Clarke followed the motion of standing off to the side so the person behind her could order. It was only then that she fleetingly let herself look around the busy coffee shop. It was brimming with people in all sorts of attire, ranging from corporate business―suits and pantsuits with briefcases and stern looks on their faces―to that of someone who just grabbed the closest clothes and threw them on for their coffee fix.

It was so busy and full of life and it made Clarke desperately itch to draw. She stopped bringing her sketchpad and drawing pencils because of how easily she would lose herself in drawing, thereby neglecting work entirely. Unfortunately, it was a necessity for the blonde haired, blue eyed woman to keep herself on task with what time was spent on artwork.

She was yet another starving artist, looking for her big break. However, unlike many others who sought their breaks through art shows, the blonde worked her ass off as a freelancer, making art pieces for small businesses and shops and for the homes of those who heard about her small self-business. Clarke wasn't a big fan of the art show life or how much time it tended to suck dry of one's personal time. Thus, she made her own path, while still following her dreams.

"Here ya go, Clarke," Echo called out, drawing Clarke from her revere. "Looks like you'll have to share a table with someone. Pretty busy today," the barista noted as she did a quick scan of how busy the shop was.

"Thank you and yes it is," Clarke acknowledged cordially as she took her cup of coffee. Before leaving to find a table, the blonde added courteously, "see you tomorrow."

"Bye," Echo called back, almost as an afterthought, completely caught up in the next customer's order.

Coffee in hand, the blonde's eyes scanned around the café only to be met with confirmation of what Echo said, there were no empty tables. The shop being so packed there weren't any empty tables wasn't totally uncommon. In fact, Clarke had to share a table once or twice, but it was always very awkward to interrupt someone from whatever they were doing just to ask if they minded sharing tablespace.

"Um, can I sit here?" The blonde timidly asked a brunette she spotted sitting by herself at a table. The woman's hair was a cascade of elegant waves, her deep, forest green eyes glued to an open manila folder in her hands. She was dressed casually, a somewhat unusual yet workable cross between professional and relaxed attire.

Clearly startled from her thoughts, the brunette's eyes raised from the folder she was intently reading before to meet Clarke's blue eyes.

It felt as if the whole world slowed to half speed as they held gazes for a moment before the sitting woman's intense, almost cold, eyes visibly softened and she nodded her head before curtly adding, "Of course."

"Thanks," the blonde said softly, sitting down gingerly with her cup of coffee. She was unable to resist taking peaks at the brunette, finding the woman to be absolutely divine looking, especially when the brunette's brow furrowed together as she looked over her folder with such intensity it could start a fire.

Somehow they managed to sneak fleeting glances at one another every couple minutes without either noticing what the other was doing. The brunette tried, and failed, to keep her attention entirely on the contents of the folder. Eventually, she decided to split her focus for the duration of the blonde's stay, it wouldn't be the end of the world if it took her a bit longer to read the briefing.

Fifteen minutes or so later both Clarke and the mysterious brunette unintentionally stood from the table they shared at precisely the same time. Unspokenly the two walked towards the exit together, Clarke tossing her empty coffee to-go cup in the trash on her way out.

Officially parting ways outside―Clarke heading in one direction while the brunette in the opposite―they smiled at one another before trotting off in their respective directions.

For the rest of the day Clarke wondered about the brunette, or more accurately why she felt like a helpless schoolgirl staring at a pretty girl.

Said brunette was thinking relatively the same thing for the remainder of her day, too.