Clarke stares up at her ceiling from her bed and retraces all of the events that occurred that day. All of the things she'd done wrong, and the things she wishes she'd done. Constantly cursing herself and burying herself in deep frustration. Nights like this passed by painfully slow, but nights like this only happened when she saw her.
Clarke likes to think back to her eyes most of the time and the distinct colour of green they are.
Her hair was down today, resting upon her shoulders. She likes it that way. Clarke admires every feature of this girl, although she is yet to speak to her. She is not easily intimidated by anyone with the exception of this particular girl. They make Clarke weak to her knees. She is left in complete adoration when in her presence. This girl never really leaves the thoughts of her mind. Clarke had her art major class today. She enjoys art for various reasons; the sense of calmness it gives her, the different aspects of the subject and she likes the fact that not all the art in the room is on her canvas. Lexa Woods sits diagonally in front of Clarke each lesson of the three days a week she has this class, and for that, Clarke is grateful. Her attempts not to stare at the brunette are completely woeful but God, the girl doesn't make it easy for her. Clarke carefully examines each of Lexa's tattoos from where she sits and often tries to figure out what they mean. She tries to read the small words and make out the meaning of the tribal looking pictures on her body. The young artist wishes she were able to just ask the girl. She wishes she could talk to her as easily as she does with her closest friends. She wishes she wasn't so afraid of rejection.
All of Clarke's friends knew about her "fondness" of Lexa and they all teased the hell out of her for it, Raven especially. Mostly because Clarke has never done anything about this crush and it annoys the shit out of them. Usually, if there's something Clarke wants, she'll take all the right wrongs to get it. But for some reason she's a stuttering mess around this particular tattooed brunette and it's killing her.
It's been three months of this torture and Clarke really needed to get a hold of herself. How hard was it to ask her on a date or, at the least, speak to the girl?
Okay, this is her last year of college; she can't seriously stall things like this still.
Clarke looks over to her clock; it reads 1:38am. A sigh escapes from her mouth as she throws her face into a pillow and lets go a muffled groan.
"Fuck!" The blonde had a 9:00am art class that she was not in the mood to deal with. Clarke decides to sleep since she's already half dead from being dragged to lawn bowls today with Bellamy. It is a completely ridiculous and boring leisure activity that he makes her come to every Monday when Monty can't make it. She and Monty are the only two who know about Bellamy's guilty pleasure of lawn bowling and although she is sworn to secrecy, she can't help but laugh at how serious the two take it. But Clarke loved them for it.
It's 8:00am when Clarke's alarm goes off and the sound of buzzing rings through her ears. She drags herself to the shower and purposely takes her time, letting the nice, hot water run over her for at least twenty minutes. She's usually late because of how long it takes to dry herself off and comb her long, blonde hair. She doesn't care though. Clarke looks in the mirror and lingers on the image she sees in front of her, examining her own face closely with judgemental eyes. She then continues to get changed into her black jeans and low-cut, blue shirt and gathers her things, making her way out of the door to her next class. This is a morning ritual and she hates it to be. Clarke hates the idea of being stuck in the same routine over time, but she had to deal with it, for now at least.
Clarke didn't live too far away from the college; close enough to say it was walking distance, taking about ten minutes to arrive there. Walking into the classroom, she sees Octavia whom she takes a seat next to.
"Here for another day of giving the dreamy girl big heart eyes?" Octavia asks sarcastically.
Clarke glares at her friend and begins to take her things out of her bag. She returns to what she was sketching yesterday. It was only simple, but it was becoming something. Her eyes then fall on the empty seat in front of her, then letting her thoughts wonder to where that tattooed girl might be.
Twenty minutes into the lesson, no other but Lexa Woods stumbles into the classroom clumsily, almost falling over and bumping into the lecturer.
A few chuckles are heard from around the room and Clarke's heart nearly falls out of her chest. Lexa mumbles a quick "sorry" and rushes to sit down where she always does. Only this time she turns completely around and leaves the room in the same hurry she arrived with. The room is left silent and confused. Clarke frowns and stares at the door left open by the brunette with wide eyes. She continues with her work but she can't focus just as much as when the girl is in the room. Clarke gets a few looks from Octavia with questioning eyes. When she tries to refocus, a small card on the floor catches her attention. The blonde assumes Lexa was the one to leave it behind on her quick way out. As soon as the class ends Clarke rises from her seat to retrieve the card on the floor. It's looks to be an advertisement of some sort for the "New York Tattoo Studio". It must've been Lexa's. The girl is half covered in tattoos and art from her arms to lower abdomen.
This intrigued Clarke even more; she longed to know more about the brunette and her ambitions. She wanted to know the most obvious and unexpected things about her. Clarke wanted to know how she liked her coffee, or if she liked coffee at all, and if she completely loathed sports as much as Clarke did. As cheesy and lame as all of that sounds, it was true. Clarke was as what her friends call; "whipped".