Origamis

You don’t even have half a clue how it happened, but somehow it did. Clarke became a constant in your life. And that’s… concerning, to say the least. You’re far from being a people person. You’ve only ever had two friends and other humans would be lucky if you were to admit they were acquaintance – or remember them, for that matter.

Anya and Lincoln are your only friends. Or were, apparently, because Clarke is one now and this is not a development you expected. Sure, you gave her your number, but it took her four full days to actually text you, so you did kind of lose hope about her wanting to talk to you. When you finally got a text from her, though, you learnt that she didn’t see the ink on the flower; Octavia had to call her and force her to unfold the origami. And now you don’t know if you’re grateful or not.

Clarke is smart and funny and loves to share about Aden’s last doing. And you like talking to her, like, genuinely like her sharing stories about her day and how Aden made progress at drawing eyes – eyes, still a big word, but he made an almost circle last time he had to draw one and Clarke wouldn’t shut up about it and you actually enjoyed it. And you sure as hell don’t like kids enough to enjoy reading texts about Aden’s first ever good looking circle for one hour without getting tired. But you didn’t and that’s worrying.

That’s even more worrying now that you’re smiling like an idiot while looking at your phone. Your shift just ended and you’re ready to bike your way back home under the pouring rain – it hasn’t stop raining since you started and you’re so drenched you will probably have to wring your pants outwhen you get home. At the beginning of your shift, right between your arrival on your working zone and your first delivery, you snapped a picture of your wet hair and face and sent it to Clarke, but it’s just now that you have time to check for her reply. She replied with a picture of Aden, hidden behind the large hood of his parka as he jumped into a puddle of water. “This one loves rain,” the caption says and you shake your head with a sigh, wiping out the smile tugging at your lips.

It’s been two months since the hospital, and during that time you’ve seen them a few times – let’s be honest, you spent your last three Sundays with them at the park near Clarke’s place. She takes him out every time she can so that he can play outside and waste some of his unlimited energy. Of the three to four hours that are spent outside, you usually spend half of it playing with Aden and the other half with his mom. You enjoy them both way too much for you own good. You know you do, but you can’t even bring yourself to care.

As you get on your bike, you dig into your front pocket, and after a few seconds find your Bluetooth ear-flap. You’re fast to turn it on and put it into your ear. Your phone recognizes it immediately and you hear a robotic voice telling you it’s connected. You then type a number out of memory and hit the call button before putting your phone back in its travel case and straping it around your forearm.

It rings twice before someone finally replies and the first thing that comes out of your best friend’s mouth is, “Tell me you’re not dying again.”

“Hello to you too, Anya.”

“You don’t seem to be dying. Good. Sup?”

“Just out of work, want me come over?”

“Sure. Shouldn’t you be asking this to your crush, though?”

“Anya,” you sigh, and you already regret calling her, “I’m not calling Clarke this late. Aden is already in bed.”

“Ain’t I glad to know you finally admit that you have a crush on Clarke.” 

You open your mouth to deny what she just said, but then you realize you’re the one who brought up Clarke after she mentioned your crush. You did this to yourself.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, and you hear Anya laugh on the other end of the line.

“Want me to come or what?” you groan at her.

“I would very much love you to come, but we’re not thinking about the same kind of coming.”

“You know what, Judas, fuck you, I’m going home and ignoring you for the year coming.”

“Don’t be a baby and I might have a cup of hot chocolate ready for you when you arrive.”

“Some pants would be great, too. I’m drenched – don’t even think of making a joke out of it.”

“You’re no fun. Hurry up.”

And with that Anya hangs up, which is a good thing, because not a second later your phone buzzes on you forearm, an incoming call from Lincoln. You answer with a press on your ear-flap.

“Hey Lex, you’re off the clock?”

“Yes, I’m on my way to Anya’s. Can I do something for you?”

“Yeah, Octavia’s having a get together and my duty is to bring you there whether you like it or not. You can bring Anya if you want.”

“Lincoln, I’m working.”

“No you’re not; we’re doing it on Saturday.”

“Lincoln, I –“

“Clarke and Aden will be there, and if you come at 6 pm, you will have enough time to hang with him and then with her when he’ll go to sleep. He has a room at Octavia’s.”

You open your mouth but close it again, not really knowing what to reply. You don’t work on Saturday, true, but you usually study on that day. But the prospect of being able to spend time with Aden and Clarke is, well, appealing – even if you’ll probably see them on Sunday as well, because you promised Aden to join him at the park during the afternoon. Maybe if you wake up earlier than usual, you can write your paper during the morning instead of the night… You could also work late on Friday…

“Fine, Lincoln, you win. I’ll bring Anya, she wants to meet Clarke anyway. Text me the address?”

“Octavia, Lexa’s in!” Lincoln shouts through the phone and you hear a loud ‘hell yeah’ coming from the brunette. “Raven’s gonna go batshit,” Lincoln ads and you remember her being Aden’s other godmother.

“Yeah well, see you then.”

The line goes silent and you let out a heavy sigh. You wonder if you didn’t give in too easily, if you didn’t appear too eager at the idea of spending time with Clarke and Aden. Truth being, you’re eager, and Lincoln always knows. He and Anya have some kind of sixth sense when it comes to you. They know everything.

You’re so fucked.

Anya’s going to be so much of a pain in your lower back when you ask her to come that you almost think of not inviting her. Almost, because if you don’t, she’s going to murder you with a tea spoon and that could be painful.

When you finally reach Anya’s apartment, on the fourth floor of a building without elevator, in the shady side of town so you had to bring your bike with you up the stairs, you sigh with relief. God, this place is awful; you honestly wonder why you still come here so often. You open the door without even knocking and go in, putting your bike in the entrance against the wall that faces the kitchen. You close the door behind you and call after your friend, asking for a towel because you’re still dripping wet and you don’t really want your hair to stream onto Anya’s floor. The bathroom door at the end of the corridor opens suddenly and a towel flies in your general direction. You catch it quite easily and discharge your phone and K-way on your bike before rubbing the towel against your hair, hoping it will be enough for it to absorb all the water your braids collected during your shift.

“Still need some pants?” Anya asks as she exits the bathroom, and you nod at her. She goes into her bedroom and retrieves some yoga pants that she throws at you before going to the kitchen. You go in the living room to change, not really minding being in underwear in front of Anya; you almost grew up in the same bed as her, so you saw more of each other than underwear and you’ve lost any kind of self-consciousness toward her years ago.

You’re changed when she walks in the living room, a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. She puts it on the table before she sits, and you put your pants on the back of one of the chairs for it to dry a bit before you leave. You get your phone out of its travel case before joining Anya, sitting in front of the cup she left on the table.

“Thanks, I need that.”

“I can see that. You look like a fucking raccoon.”

“You stole my water resistant eye liner.”

“Maybe.”

You rub the towel under your eyes as your phone buzzes on the table, and while holding the piece of fabric with one hand, you unlock your phone and take a look at the text Clarke just sent you.

[ 22 : 33 ] From: Clarke

                Subject: what kind of animal would you compare yourself to?

Anya gives you a pointed look and you reply to her quiet question, “It’s Clarke, she just asked me what my spiritual animal is, I think.”

“You’re a raccoon.”

“Only when it rains.”

“No. Always. Raccoons scare people because they’re big and shit, but they’re just scaredy-cats that only want to be fed and loved.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you reply with a shake of your head, because you don’t ‘just’ want to be fed and loved. You want a lot of things in your life; you want to end your degree, you want to pay off your student loans, you want to have a good situation, you want the people surrounding you to be happy and proud of you. Sure, you’re not against some love but, hey, who is? Food is just a bonus in the matter.

[ 22 : 35 ] To: Clarke

                 Subject: Why?

“So, did you come here just to end my milk, or are you gonna talk at some point?”

“We’re invited to Octavia’s get together on Saturday.”

“Who’s Octavia again?” Anya asks then with a raised brow, and you just shake your head with a sigh.

“Your brother’s girlfriend, Anya.”

Anya seems to pounder the thought for a few seconds before her face lights up with realization, “Ha! The hamster on caffeine?”

You sigh again but nod anyway. If your memory when it comes to people is awful, Anya has none. Well, it’s not really that she has none, but people really need to make an impression on her for her to remember them. If it’s not something she has never seen before, there’s no chance for her to get their name framed into her brain.

“And Lincoln’s not my brother. I don’t even like him,” she reminds you, and you give her a pointed look. Anya being Anya, of course. The day she’ll assume she actually likes someone will be the day hell breaks loose and the end of the world happens. And while it’s true that Lincoln is not her blood brother, you know he’s family enough for him to have a spare key to her place. You do too, but Anya never closes her door so you’re not sure that’s really useful.

“Anyway,” you reply, “you’re invited. I’ll probably go there earlier than you’d like, though.”

You try to keep your face straight. You have to, because if she sees any kind of feelings going through your skin, she will know and she will be a bitch. You take a sip of your drink, not looking at her, but you can feel her brown eyes on you, scanning you for a quiet minute before she shakes her head.

“You’re so fucking whipped it’s disgusting.”

Just to give her reason, your phone buzzes on the table again and you immediately look down, seeing the new message notification from Clarke. You stop a smile from making its way to your lips as you unlock your phone, but Anya sees right through you with a new shake of the head and a small smirk dancing on her lips, “It has been a while. I’ll deny if you ever mention it, but I think it’s cute.”

“Fuck you. I’m not cute. I am the night.”

“Sure, try to convince yourself that.”

You glare at her for a second before looking down at your unlocked phone.

[ 22 : 40 ] From: Clarke

                Subject: long story short, aden has stuffed animals that represent people (like, I’m a lion

                             and murphy is sponge bob and so on) and he almost cried at bed time because

                             he has no you

[ 22 : 41 ] To: Clarke

                 Subject: I’d like to believe I’m something majestic and kind of scary but, alas, according

                              to Anya, I’m just a freaking raccoon.

[ 22 : 42 ] From: Clarke

                 Subjet: raccoon! OMG that’s perfect. thank her for me, now I just need to find one!

You look at your phone in complete disbelief and type a fast reply, asking her if she seriously believes you to be a raccoon, before glancing toward Anya, “She’s buying Aden a raccoon plush because of you.”

“Blame yourself,” your friend shrugs. “Who will be at the get-together anyway?”

“I don’t really know. Octavia and Lincoln, for starters, but I think Aden’s second godmother, Raven, will be there, along with Clarke and Aden. As for the others, I have no freaking clue.”

Anya just shrugs, “Sure, why not, it’s not like I have something better to do anyway.”

You nod and type a new text to Clarke, announcing that both you and Anya are in for Saturday, and add a little note asking her when she would like you to arrive. The reply is so fast to come you don’t even have time to put your phone down, it buzzes directly in your hands.

[ 22 : 53 ] From: Clarke

                 Subject: first, look at your face on the last picture you sent me, you’re definitely

                              a raccoon, and second, I remember the stories you told me about anya: if

                              she scares my son, raven will blow up her place. come around 6?

When you tell that to Anya, she lets a new smirk appears on her face. “Sounds like fun.”

And that’s the story of how you ended behind Octavia’s front door around six on your Saturday. Anya texted you earlier; she’s on her way, she just needed to change from the gym. You’re surprised she’s coming that early, but she mentioned wanting to meet both Clarke and Aden, as you wouldn’t shut up about them. Now for praying that she won’t embarrass you.

You knock on the door and someone screams from inside that it’s open, so you put a hand on the doorknob and turn it, opening the door and pushing your bike in along with you.

“Octavia, do you –“ you stop midsentence as you hear a high pitched scream that is soon enough followed by something suddenly clinging on your leg. You don’t even have to look down to know who that is, and while holding your bike with one hand, you put the other on Aden’s head, cradling his hair, “Hey, little one.”

“Lexaaaa!” he shouts excitedly, and you wish you weren’t trapped between your bike and him so that you could take him in your arms.

“Aden, what about we let Lexa come inside first?”

“But mommy! It’s Lexa!”

“Yes love, but you can see that she’s struggling with her bike right now, can’t you?”

He makes a face suddenly, frowning and trying to understand what she just said, and after a few seconds, he reluctantly lets go of your leg with a small sad ‘okay.’ He walks to Clarke and puts his back against her legs, looking at you, probably waiting for you to be settled. Lincoln comes from the corridor that you suppose leads to the living room and smiles warmly at you before announcing that he’ll take care of the bike. He does so, opening a door to the right of the front door. “Mind if I put the bike in your room, buddy?” he looks at Aden and the boy shakes a no as he watches your tall friend pushing your bike against one of the walls of the room. He closes the door behind him as he exits it and you shake your jacket away from your body. Lincoln is the one to take it again and he brings it to the living room, nodding for you to follow him. But before you can even start walking, Aden looks up at his mom and asks something you can’t quite make out. Clarke nods her approval and Aden suddenly runs to you, as fast as he can with his tiny legs. You crouch in front of him and rise up again as soon as your hands are under his arms, holding him up against your chest and walking your way to the living room.

A few people are already here and you nod at them while Aden hugs you firmly. The only ones you recognize so far are Lincoln, Octavia, and Clarke; you have no freaking clue who the others are, but one of them – a tall guy with milk skin, freckles, and floppy hair – is looking at you with some kind of an 'aw' face.

“Dude, you need to explain to me how you did that,” he says with a deep voice, and you raise a brow at him.

“I don’t even know who you are.”

He smiles then, a bright smile and nods, “Fair enough. I’m Bellamy, Octavia’s brother. And for some reason, Aden doesn’t like me.”

“That might be because of the hair,” you say without even realizing, and some of the people in the living room laugh. “Told you you should cut them,” some guy sitting on the couch says.

“Quiet, Murphy, we didn’t ask for your point of view,” Bellamy groans.

So that one is Murphy, Sponge Bob if you remember well. He’s smaller than Bellamy by inches and his hair is cut to the sides and pulled backward on top of his head.

“All right everyone,” Clarke announces before Murphy can bicker back, “this is Lexa,” she waves in your general direction, “and Lexa, you already know Bellamy and Murphy. The ones you don’t know yet are Monty,” she gestures to the Asian boy sitting next to Murphy on the couch, “and Raven, but she’s in the kitchen with Octavia.”

“Someone called for my majesty?” a voice says behind you and you turn to see the girl in question. She’s smaller than you but not by much, with black hair tied in a ponytail and caramel skin.

“You must be Lexa,” she says as she looks you from head to toe, and Aden replies before you can, a loud “YES!” that echoes in your ear for a few seconds. “She can make rockets!” he says then, and Raven raises a brow at that.

“Buddy, I’m the one building rockets here, no one else.”

“But she made me one!” he says with a pout. “I forgot it home!” he realizes then, and you see his face fall a bit.

“Hey there, I’ll make you a new one for tonight, okay? No sad faces.”

His face lights up again and his arms snuggle around your neck to hold it tightly again.

“I swear I’m dreaming,” Bellamy says, looking at you in disbelief., “He's known me since the beginning of his life, and most of the time, he refuses to even say hello to me, and here she is, knowing him for two months, being his new hero or something.”

“Don’t be such a grump,” Clarke says, “and honestly Bell,” Raven adds matter-of-factly, “I would rather hug Lexa than you, too.”

“I’ll take a rain check on that offer; all my hugs are reserved for Aden.”

“Oh I see, you only like me for my son,” Clarke says then, feigning being hurt by holding a hand to her heart, and you glare at her for a second before freeing one of your hands from behind Aden’s back. You hold it up and nod to Clarke to come. The blonde does so, nudging herself on your side and kissing your cheek as a greeting. You try to ignore the way your heartbeat increases in your chest and hope that Aden is not capable of feeling it. Clarke stays on your side even after saying hello to you, your arm thrown around her waist. Your hand isn’t clearly on her side, as you don’t really know if you’re allowed to do that or not, but the blonde takes your hand in her own after a few seconds and flattens it on her hip, keeping her warm fingers on yours.

You don’t see Raven snapping a picture, or if you do, you ignore it, and Octavia comes out of the kitchen with a plate of appetizers while Aden crawls his way out of your arms to get into his mom’s. Clarke welcomes him, letting go of your hand, and you immediately feel the loss of warmth coming from her.

“You guys are disgustingly cute, but get out of my way,” the owner of the place announces as she walks her way to the small table in the middle of the living room, just in front of the couch.

There’s a knock on the door then, and you recognize the way it sounds. Lincoln does too, as he furrows his brows while looking over the entrance, “She’s here early,” he looks to you and you nod, not mentioning the reason why she wanted to come early.

“Come in!” Lincoln shouts from the living room, and the door flies open under Anya’s strength before closing with a loud thud.

“I swear finding a place to park here is hell,” says Anya as she walks in the corridor and reaches the living room like she owns the place. She shrugs her jacket off and throws it to Lincoln, who takes it with ease and puts it on the chair next to him, along with yours.

“Guys, this is Anya, second and last sister of mine.”

You look over at her, her dirty blond hair cascading freely on her shoulders, kind of messy and still wet from the shower she took after the gym.

“Dude, are all your sisters semi-goddesses or what? What did your parents feed you with?”

You see Anya raising a perfect brow at Raven, who just spoke to Lincoln, and she literally undresses her with her eyes for a few seconds, before snapping back to reality when you knock your shoulders against hers, “At least be subtle,” you tell her and she glares at you.

“Anya’s go-to food is Oreos, so I’m not sure it’s because of that.”

“It’s not her ‘go-to food,’“ you say then, “it’s her precious and she doesn’t share with anyone.”

“Dude, those things are expensive, of course I’m not sharing,” she says as she rolls up her shirt’s sleeves expertly without even looking at what she’s doing.

Slowly but surely, as she rolls the left one, ink starts to appear instead of skin, and you see Aden’s head perk up from his mom’s shoulder to look at her. Ever so quietly, he pokes his mom on the cheek to get her attention – she was in a heated conversation with Murphy about the greatness of Oreos versus the perfection of Pop Tarts – and the blonde turns her head to him as he tells her to look. Clarke turns herself and Aden shifts in her arms so that he can still see Anya’s forearm. She has an entire galaxy imprinted in her skin, colorful and bright, with shades of red, blue, and purple and hundreds of little white points representing stars. You remember the face of the poor tattoo guy when she told him what she wanted; if you guys hadn’t been Titus’s ‘children,’ he probably would have kicked you out. It took hours to be done; you remember each one of them as painful for her and so freaking slow for you. Why you even came with her in the first place is a mystery.

Anya’s eyes land on Aden and she smirks a bit at him before walking over to one of the walls of the living room, one free of furniture, and sitting against it – classic Anya; if there’s people she doesn’t know on the couch, she’ll simply stick to the floor (you would too, if you’re being honest, but it’s not about you right now).

“Do you wanna look from up closer?” she asks the kid as she holds her arm for him to see, and he looks at his mom. “It’s okay, love, you can go look.”

Clarke drops Aden on the floor and he walks shyly toward Anya, fidgeting with the base of his sweater. Patiently, Anya starts explaining what a tattoo is and what this one represents, and you stop listening to her when Clarke pokes you in the shoulder.

“She’s not going to do anything stupid, right?” she asks and you shake a no instantly.

“She’s kind of my sister, so telling me scary stories at midnight was part of the sibling game, but I don’t think she’ll do it with him. She’s good with kids.”

“Learnt it all from her?”

“Kind of. I had to catch up; all the kids have to help Titus to raise the smaller ones by the age of ten.”

“I… have no clue what that’s supposed to mean.”

It kind of hit you then that you never told Clarke anything about your childhood. Well, you did tell her about Anya and Lincoln, of course, but she has no idea how you three came together in the first place, or where it happened. Right, well…

“Anya, Lincoln and I grew up in the same orphanage. Well, they both joined the orphanage when they were around five or something, but I’m what we call a Night Blood: I got left one night on the porch of the orphanage when I was still a baby,” you explain, and Clarke looks at you with some shock in her eyes. She quickly recovers and you expect the pity to show up. It’s always the pity that shows up first, and it’s not something you like to see toward your person – it’s not something you want to see coming from Clarke. But her eyes soften then and she gives you a small smile. “I must say, I’m impressed. You three grew up well.”

That takes you aback to say the least, and you stutter a 'thank you,' at which she just shrugs. She looks over at Aden then, and you can’t quite pinpoint the feelings dripping from her eyes, but you pick out worry in those icy blue eyes.

“Clarke,” you start without even noticing, looking at the blond boy too, watching him interact happily with Anya, “you’re doing well with him, you know?”

You don’t look at the blonde, but you feel her eyes on you as you keep going. “I’ve seen a lot of kids pass through the orphanage and I can tell you,” your eyes catch hers for the end of your sentence, making sure she gets your every word, “this one is definitely a happy one.”

For a minute, you forget. You forget all the people surrounding you; Anya in the corner with Aden, Octavia against Lincoln in the far corner of the room, Bellamy sprawled out on a groaning Murphy on the couch, Raven somewhere in the middle, and Monty on the far side of said couch. You forget everyone and you just see Clarke. Clarke and her blue eyes, Clarke and the way her lower lip trembles as she opens her mouth to reply to you. No sound comes, as a single tear escapes her eye before she lunges toward you. The next thing you know, Clarke’s arms are around your shoulders and she is flush against your body, face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel a few more tears fall from her eyes to your skin. You don’t immediately hug back, taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but after a few seconds, you put a hand on the small of her back while the other goes on top of her head. “You’re doing fine, Clarke,” you murmur directly in her ear, “you’re doing perfectly fine.”

She shudders against your neck, sucks in a deep breath, and holds you a little tighter. “You’re okay,” you say as you hold tight back, providing her with as much support as you can, “he is okay.”

“Guys,” Raven groans suddenly behind you, and without really moving, keeping Clarke’s head hidden in your neck, you turn to the Latina, “can you go be cute somewhere else, I’d like to pass here.”

“Can’t you walk around us like any normal person?”

“I don’t go around people, they move out of my way because they think I’m a fragile little thing,” the brunette replies with a tap on her left thigh. You look at her leg then, because it seems to be what she wants, and you see the heavy brace surrounding it, closed around her pants. You look back at her face and raise a brow. “Are you a fragile little thing?” you ask.

“Do I look like one?”

“Then walk around us.”

Raven smiles then, for a reason you ignore, and you probably look puzzled because she just shakes her head and goes around you and Clarke. Clarke’s head is still against your neck, but her breath is steadier than what it was before, arm loose around your neck.

“Congrats,” she tells you, voice a trembling whisper, “you just passed the Raven test.”

Clarke holds her head back up and you’re quick to wipe the trails her tears left on her cheeks with your sleeve. She smiles at you and glances towards Aden for a split second – you believe, from what you hear, that he’s having a passionate argument with Murphy and Anya about Sponge Bob – before she leans in and drops a fast kiss on the corner of your mouth. You’re so surprised you don’t even react, and before you can do anything, she goes around you and joins Aden, Murphy, and Anya on the floor. Your eyes follow her on their own device and you watch her sitting on the parquet, Aden fast to come sit on her lap.

It almost burns, where she kissed you, and you have no idea what to do now. Anya glances at you shortly, raising a brow as to ask if you’re okay – because of course she knows something’s up – and you smile at her, an honest to god smile, the kind of thing that doesn’t show up on your face in public, but you can’t help yourself. Her eyes open wide for a second but she just shakes her head in the end, mouthing a ‘whipped’ to you. You mouth a ‘fuck you,’ and your friend goes back to her conversation with the three others. And so the day goes on.

Aden eats first, along with his mom, a plate of pasta in the kitchen while you’re chatting with the others in the living room. Raven is a rocket scientist, you learn, or will be one soon enough, as she already designed a few things and is just waiting for her traineeship at NASA to begin to build them. Monty is studying to become a chemist, Bellamy is on his way to become a history teacher, and Murphy is struggling in college, studying while the only thing he wants to do is write books for kids. You reassure him, explaining to him that you picked law out of all the things you could have chosen to study, but that you recently came to the realization that it’s not what you want to do. You’re thinking of moving from law to teaching sometime soon.

Conversations flow easily, especially with Raven and Monty, who are both the biggest nerds you’ve ever met, but they’re also pretty nice and incredibly sarcastic. You’re folding a piece of paper Octavia gave you a few minutes ago as you listen to them bicker about who’s the best between the two, and after five good minutes of arguments, Monty wins because he’s the only one who has a successful love life between them. He has been dating his boyfriend for years now, while Raven's latest relationship only lasted a few months. The brunette groans when Monty announces that he wins this one, and that’s when you finish the space rocket you promised Aden earlier.

“Or maybe it’s her,” Monty says as he looks at the neatly folded origami in your hand, “because that’s definitely a rocket ship and she makes it look easy to do.”

“Maybe,” you say as you stand the rocket on the table, “does me being first in my class while working part time and being able to make something like a hundred different origamis count?”

“You know what, we'll let Aden decide who’s the best,” Raven says then, and you give her a look of misunderstanding. “The one that gets called the closest to Clarke will be declared as best out of the three of us.”

You still don’t get it but nod, because that will probably make sense later, and you high five each other before you stand from the couch and join the others in the kitchen. Aden is eating his dessert, yoghurt all around his mouth, and you smile at the sight. You stand next to Clarke and deposit the space rocket next to her finished plate.

“You’re a sweetheart,” Clarke says and you just shrug, ruffling Aden’s hair before going back to the living room.

Sooner than you expected, Aden’s bed time comes, and suddenly the entire living room falls quiet. Clarke is with him in his room, tucking him in his bed, and Murphy is drum rolling on his legs, announcing that the sorting may start. Anya gives you a look but you just shrug, not understanding either. Lincoln supplies then, much to your comfort because you’re honestly lost.

“Aden has a few rituals for bedtime. The first one is the stuffed animals - he has one for each person he loves and needs to have them all to go to bed.”

“That explains the raccoon thing,” Anya tells you, and you nod. “Wait, Aden has a you?” Bellamy asks with a rather surprised face, and you nod at him. “Clarke got him a raccoon last week.”

Bellamy suddenly throws his hand in the air, looking desperate, and a few people laugh at his antics.

“The second ritual is that he will pick who gets to bid him good night by telling Clarke who he wants, and they will have to go to his room one by one. It’s kind of a game now; not everyone gets called, and the closer you get to Clarke, the more you’re loved.”

Well that explains why Raven told you that Aden would pick who’s the best. You don’t believe you have any chance to go in after one of his godmothers, but you guess you will at least go in.

“John, you're in,” Clarke calls, and you watch Murphy stand up from the couch, smirking at Bellamy on his way to the room. He stays in for a few seconds, just enough time to ask for a high-five from the kid and wish him a good night before going out. “Monty,” says the blonde, and the young Asian stands from the couch. Raven gives him a victorious smile. He goes in, ruffles the kid’s hair, and bows down to kiss him on the nose before wishing him a good night and going out.

Suddenly there’s a silence and no one gets called for a few minutes. Raven and you are staring at each other, waiting for one of your names to be called, and when it’s yours that is finally heard, the brunette throws her hands in the air in a winning motion. You shake your head with a small smile before walking toward the room.

Clarke is sitting on the floor next to the headboard of his bed, a book on her lap and a smile dancing on her lips. “Not bad for your first call,” she tells you as you go over Aden. The blonde boy sits up when he sees you and holds his arms up for you to hug him, which you do for seconds before letting go, making him lay down again on his bed. You prop a fast kiss on the top of his head before exiting the room. Raven goes in right after you, high fives him before hugging him and kissing him on the nose, and Octavia is the last one who gets called. The younger brunette closes the door behind her when she exits the room, and the conversation finally starts again, Octavia mentioning to you and Anya that the boy’s room got soundproofed over a year ago to avoid waking him up, especially since “Jasper is an asshole who doesn’t know how to keep it down, and he’s on his way, so.”

“Who else is coming?” Raven asks curiously as she props herself on the floor, back against the couch and sitting between Murphy’s legs.

“Miller is with Jasper, and maybe Echo, Emori, and Maya, but I’m not really sure.”

“Emori is,” Murphy supplies, “but only after her shift ends.”

And so what was supposed to be a get-together ends up being a small party. Jasper arrives with booze and hands beer bottles to anyone who wants one. When Clarke comes out of the room, about thirty minutes after Octavia closed the door, she notices the change, the thick smell of alcohol already floating in the air, and she can’t help but sigh heavily.

“Who’s driving?” she asks the living room, and Anya and Bellamy both raise their hands as a reply.

“I can trust you two not to drink, right?” she says as she looks back and forth between them. Anya raises her glass of soda for an answer, and Bellamy promises the beer he has in hands will be his one and only, which seems to convince the blonde.

Clarke walks over Bellamy and Murphy, and you go to the kitchen to get a refill of soda, but you soon realize it wasn’t a good idea, because before you can even do anything, Octavia walks in behind you, quickly followed by Raven who closes the door behind her. You raise a brow at them as you fill your glass and turn, settling your back against the counter.

The women standing in front of you on the other side of the table have their eyes locked on you and stay quiet for long seconds. You keep your head held high and glance between them without even thinking of weakening, but if you’re being honest, you’re not one-hundred percent comfortable right now.

“So,” Raven finally starts, and you lock your gaze on her, “how serious are you about this?”

You furrow your brows a bit, “About what?”

“About Clarke, dumbass,” Octavia replies, and if it weren’t for Lincoln and Clarke, you realize Octavia wouldn’t be your first choice of company.

“What about Clarke?” you ask, still confused about what is happening in this very instant.

Then the door opens and closes again, and Anya steps in, shaking her head with a disapproving sigh, “Two against one isn’t fair, ladies,” she walks around the table and comes to your side, “and they’re asking you about your feelings for Clarke.”

“Oh so you’re the smart one,” Raven eyes Anya and a smirk grows on your friend’s mouth.

“Listen,” Octavia says then, “I’m not enjoying doing this to Lincoln’s best friend, but we have to. Clarke went through enough shit in her life; she doesn’t need someone to run away again.”

The pieces finally fall together in your mind, and you understand the point of this conversation. Of course, they are worried. You don’t know much about Clarke’s past relationship, but she’s a single mom for starters, so that means something happened with Aden’s dad. And since the boy never talks about him either, it probably means he never met him. They don’t want someone to walk into Clarke’s life and run away if things go further.

“Clarke really likes you, and we need to make sure you’re not going to screw this up,” Raven adds, and you nod your understanding.

“If I didn’t run away when I became Heda, there’s no chance I’ll run away because she has a son.”

Raven makes a face, because she doesn’t understand what that means, and Octavia makes one, because she does understand. Lincoln probably told her about the orphanage and the way it worked there. Heda is Titus’s second; someone that is picked by the bald guy to help him take care of the kids, especially the young ones. While it’s true that everyone from the age of ten has to help, Heda is different: Heda wakes up at night if a baby has a nightmare; Heda feeds the ones that can’t feed themselves; Heda gives baths and changes diapers.

The orphanage you grew up in was pretty modest, not to say poor. Titus, while working his ass off, wasn’t capable of raising enough money to hire new people, so instead, he decided that the kids would be the ones helping him. And that’s a system that works great, because it teaches responsibility in a better way than anything else. Having two kids to care for while being in the orphanage dorm, having them be your responsibility, it builds people in a strong way. They learn how to make themselves be heard, how to compromise, how to make sure no one is missing anything, but also how to care for someone. It brought more people together than not.

That is how Anya, Lincoln, and you came together.

Anya is the oldest one of you three, and when she turned ten, she was assigned to you and Lincoln. That’s how you became family. And when you were thirteen, you already had one kid to take care of, but you were also helping the others, and Titus saw in you something you didn’t know was there: the soul of a leader. So he asked you to become his Heda, the person that would be making sure that everyone was okay, that no one was in need.

“How long?” Octavia asks after a quiet minute.

“From thirteen to eighteen. I could have left when I was sixteen. Anya proposed to take me in like she took Lincoln the year before, but I refused. Titus needed help.”

“Okay. Okay,” the brunette nods, “don’t break Clarke or Aden’s heart and we’re good. Break them and I’ll break you, though.”

“Break them and I’ll blow up your place,” Raven adds, and you look at her and Octavia for a few seconds.

“You guys know Clarke and I aren’t together, right?”

“Yet,” Raven interferes, “you’re not together yet, but if you think we hadn’t noticed the almost kiss earlier then you’re wrong.”

“Actually, I hadn’t,” her friend turns her head toward the Latina. “What happened?”

Raven waves her hand at Octavia and keeps her eyes on yours, brown orbs locked on you, “As we already stated earlier, Clarke really likes you, but Clarke will not take the first step because she believes herself to be un-datable because she has a son,” you’re about to open your mouth, because Clarke is definitely far from being un-datable and you want to kick the people that made her believe that so hard in the ass they will taste your shoe in their mouth, but the woman lifts her hand to shush you and it’s Octavia who pipes in, “and since we already know you like her, can you please do something about that? I’m gonna believe you when you say you won’t run away, so please don’t fuck that up, and take care of the sexual tension slowly growing between you two. Thank you very much.”

With that, the little brunette nods at you, nods at Anya, and leaves the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her. You look over at Raven, who nods for you to follow her friend, go back to the living room and do something already. So you leave the room, almost not hearing Anya ordering you to close the door when you’re out. You close it without really thinking about it and take a look at the people sprawled all over Octavia’s apartment.

Monty and Miller are on the floor, the Asian boy sitting between the legs of his friend, back against his chest as they discuss with Jasper, who’s sitting on the couch on their right. Octavia is sitting on Lincoln’s lap on the left of the couch, and they’re ignoring the rest of the world, giving each other some peace and quiet. Murphy and Bellamy are bickering, and Clarke seems to be keeping score until she spots you at the entry of the room. She leaves them as soon as her eyes lock on yours, walking rapidly in your direction. “Where’d you go?” she asks once she’s in front of you.

“I was getting a refill in the kitchen.”

“It took you fifteen minutes to refill your drink?”

You smile then, because of course she would have been checking on you.

“Maybe I had a little talk with Octavia and Raven, but that’s a matter for another time, Clarke.”

She furrows her brows and you just shake your head with a small smile dancing on your lips, and her brows furrow even more. “Trust me, Clarke, this is not important now.”

“Fine,” she huffs and turns her back on you. You expect her to walk away, but instead, she takes a few steps backward and settles herself against your chest. With your drink still in your hand, you don’t really know what to do, but Clarke takes your free hand in hers and puts it on her belly. Her fingers lace with yours without you realizing it, and before you know it, your chin rests on her shoulder.

You would be concerned by the display of affection if it weren’t for the fact that it feels oddly natural to be standing that way, with Clarke in your arms. Like your body was built to melt into hers, like you were made to be standing that way, somehow entwined together. You feel peaceful, your heartbeat kind of fast but steady, your breath coming out softly against some strands of her hair.

It almost feels like home.

You drop a kiss on Clarke’s shoulder and feel her shudder against your lips. She doesn’t turn her head or glance toward you, but you can feel her fingers tightening on yours and you smile against her, bringing her slightly closer to you.

This is great. The greatest.

You’re so fucked.

You don’t even care.