Clarke must have sent a hundred applications for jobs. She needed the money to be able to buy that wonderful easel she has been dreaming of for months.
However, now that she actually got a job, she has half a mind to quit it. And it's only her first day.
God, she never thought working at a candle shop would be so exhausting.
It's not that she's ridiculously busy, because, let's be honest, the candle business isn't the most fashionable one to exist. However, Clarke has to deal with a few customers that are, to say the least, extremely dramatic about it.
“Listen, I need this for my sister. Do you have cinnamon and coconut smelling candles or not?”
Clarke has to fight the urge to sigh deeply. The young woman, with high cheekbones and a resting glaring face, is getting on her nerves. Because, honestly, who is that specific about candle orders?
“I have cinnamon ones and coconut ones, but not candles with both of these, I'm afraid.” She replies with a polite smile, blatantly lying.
In fact, she has no idea what she's talking about. The shop is filled with hundreds of candles and the manager is away on vacation, and Clarke hasn't the slightest clue of the extent of the candles collection.
“My sister told me there were some the last time she visited this place.” The other woman narrows her eyes at Clarke and frowns. “Are you sure you don't have them?”
“I'm sorry, your sister is going to have to settle for another scent. I hope she won't be too upset about it.”
She's obviously joking, but the woman stares at her blankly and lets out a small sigh.
“You have no idea.”
A faint sense of guilt and compassion takes over Clarke and she grabs the notepad on the counter, handing the woman a pen.
“I'm going to tidy up the shop a bit this afternoon, maybe I'll find what you're looking for. Tell you what, leave a name and number, and I'll call you back if I find them.”
The woman's nod is curt but grateful, and only when she leaves Clarke allows herself to glance at the piece of paper.
Anya, she reads. Well, she's certainly pitying Anya for having such an extravagant sister.
Clarke wipes the sweat off of her brow. The shop is smaller than her living room, and yet, it's packed with too many candles to be socially acceptable.
Needless to say, tidying the place and sorting the candles by scent is the most boring, useless task ever.
Clarke hears the bell ringing, informing her that someone entered the shop.
“Welcome to Polis Candle Sanctuary”, she turns on her heel with a smile. “May I help you?”
It's a woman, with dark skin and an exasperated look clearly placated on her features.
“Yes. I am looking for...”
Her voice trails away as she looks at something written on the palm of her hand.
“...Pine tree and mango smelling candles?” She seems a bit hesitant and incredulous, and Clarke raises an eyebrow.
“You mean, candles of each scent or candles gathering both of these?”
“I'm afraid both.” The woman replies in a stern voice.
You've got to be kidding me.
Clarke suddenly feels too tired to deal with this. She vaguely wonders what sort of people yearn for these peculiar candles so aggressively that they send other people to buy it for them.
“My niece caught a cold, and she's stuck at home.” explains the woman. “She's out of candles, and she really likes them. I'm taking care of her, and she insisted that it would make her feel better.”
Clarke almost rolls her eyes. Maybe Anya and that woman could get together and form a therapy group called We have annoying candle-obsessed relatives.
Mechanically, she hands the woman a pen and a piece of paper.
“I'm sorry, I don't think I have these now. But I'm in the process of tidying up, so who knows, maybe I'll find them very soon. If you want, you can leave your name and number, I'll keep you updated.”
The woman offers her a tentative smile, scribbles something down and hands the paper and pen back to Clarke.
“Thank you, miss. That would be very appreciable. My niece can be a bit dramatic when it comes to candles.”
“You're welcome...” Clarke's eyes drop to the paper, and then shoot back up to the woman. “Indra. I'll do my best.”
It's the middle of the afternoon and Clarke has fallen half asleep during the clean up. She never found the candles Anya and Indra wanted, but she's too tired to keep looking.
Moreover, she's sort of annoyed at their respectives sister and niece, so she doesn't really want to give them satisfaction. Sending their relatives to fetch their impossible candle order is kind of rude.
She's startled by the ring of the bell and straightens herself up behind the counter. Immediately, her face breaks into a smile when she spots the young boy jumping around excitedly around the shop.
“Hey, buddy, what can I do for you?”
“I want to buy candles.” he says to her proudly, lifting his chin to look at Clarke.
“I have all the candles in the world, tell me what you would like.”
Now, this is endearing. A little boy who wants a nice scented candle. For him, she wouldn't mind going through the shelves.
“I want...” he frowns, biting his lip. “Mamo...momi...masi...something with that other flower that smells good, but I can't remember...”
“It's mimosa with jasmine, Aden.” interrupts a man, entering the shop with a slightly weary expression.
Clarke lets out a small laugh.
“Well, Aden, you have a very specific taste. I don't know if I have this in store.”
At that, Aden vigorously shakes his blond-haired head.
“No, it's not for me. It's for Lexa. She's a bit desperate, because apparently all her favorite candles have burnt out.”
Something clicks inside Clarke's head. She wonders if all those weird orders – Anya, Indra, and now Aden – have something in common.
Thrice in a day, that's one hell of a coincidence.
The man lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his bald head, before speaking up.
“Miss, if you have these candles, we would appreciate it very much.”
Clarke glances at her surroundings with a defeated expression. There are too many candles. Not enough nametags. She has no idea where to find such extravagant candles.
“I'm sorry.” she says for the third time today. “You can leave me your number, though, I'll call you if I find it.”
The man's shoulders slump slightly and he obliges.
“Let's go, Aden. I'm going to cook her pancakes, maybe that will improve her mood.” he says, stepping out of the store. He's almost gone, but Clarke swears she hears him mumbling something about the person named Lexa causing his baldness.
Aden lingers behind and smiles at Clarke.
“Good day, miss candle.”
“It's Clarke. Have a good day too, Aden.”
It's almost half past six and Clarke is going to close the shop.
It has been a really exhausting day, and an odd one. She feels like she has entered a whole other world, where people take candles extremely seriously. It's surreal.
She stretches and yawns, ready to walk to the door and leave. However, as she does, a girl about her age enters the store, tucked into a huge red scarf that hangs on her shoulder a bit like a cape. She's very pretty, with green eyes that are strikingly beautiful, but she seems quite pissed off.
“I'm going to close the shop, I'm sorry.”
“Wait a minute.” commands the girl, and it's very clear in her tone that she's used to be obeyed.
Clarke rolls her eyes and rests an elbow on the counter, eying up and down the girl.
“Are you the girl named Clarke?”
At that, Clarke tilts her head on the side, curious.
“I am, how do you know that?”
“Well, congratulations, Clarke. You have been ruining my day.”
Clarke's mouth falls open. She has never even seen that girl before, and she certainly has no right to be so rude.
“Excuse me?”
“I have been sick and forced to stay in bed for the best part of the day.” The girl takes a sharp intake of breath. “And when I don't feel well... Oh, even when I do, actually... I like candles, okay?”
Clarke just stares, because she's beginning to understand. And also because holy crap, the girl really is gorgeous.
“But I was out of candles.” says the girl in a low growl that makes Clarke's lower abdomen heat up. “First, I asked my sister to pick my favorites, cinnamon and coconut. But she comes back empty-handed, saying that the girl at the store didn't have them.”
The girl – who must, unmistakably, be the infamous Lexa – takes a step closer to Clarke, slowly, her movements fluid. She's moving like a panther about to attack her prey, and Clarke thinks it's kind of hot.
“And I come here extremely often, and that never happened. But alright, fair enough, maybe these were sold out.” continues the girl, stepping forward again with an upset look on her face. “So I ask my aunt to buy me my other favorite ones, the pine tree and mango candles.”
Clarke admittedly stopped listening a few moments ago. She's entirely focused on Lexa, on her regal attitude and her soft-looking lips.
“But she comes back empty-handed too. And there, I knew that something was wrong. This had to be some kind of joke.”
Lexa almost purrs her words now, and Clarke's mouth goes dry.
“I then did something that I only do in extreme situations, when I have no hope left. I asked for mimosa and jasmin candles.”
“Such a tragedy.” Clarke can't help it. The situation actually makes no sense, and the only thing she makes sense of is the hot, angry girl standing at a really close distance.
“It is, because even that you were unable to provide. And then, Aden tells me that your name is Clarke. I came to the obvious conclusion that you're new here, and you're extremely incompetent.”
“And you're overly dramatic, Lexa.” Clarke shoots back in a husky voice.
She smirks when Lexa's eyes widen in surprise.
“How do you...”
“Aden mentioned it.”
Lexa immediately recovers, her gaze intense and burning.
“And I'm not incompetent. You're just too damn extra. I'm pretty sure these candles don't even exist.”
Clarke gulps when Lexa steps even closer, backing her against the corner of the shop, the hard edges of the shelves digging into her back.
She feels admittedly turned on. Lexa is gorgeous and there's nothing innocent in the way she aggressively cornered Clarke against those shelves full of candles. Lexa's eyes flicker almost imperceptibly to her lips, and lower, taking in Clarke's cleavage, before shooting back up to stare at blue eyes.
Slowly, Lexa raises a hand and reaches for something next to Clarke's head, while leaning in. Clarke holds her breath, waiting for the feel of fingers caressing her cheeks, for the feel of hot lips against hers.
It never comes.
“It's literally right behind your head, Clarke.” Lexa whispers in her ear, and in a split second she pulls back, brandishing triumphantly a candle.
Clarke remains dumbstruck, her back pressed against the shelves. She really thought Lexa was going to kiss her. However, now, she can see that candles were the only thing on the girl's mind all along.
“See?” Lexa pointedly taps her index finger on the candle. “Cinnamon and coconut. It was next to you all day and you couldn't find it. You're incompetent.”
Clarke rolls her eyes and can't help but mumble under her breath.
“Why am I attracted to you right now?”
Lexa blinks, confused.
“What?”
“Doesn't matter, I am.” She raises her voice so that Lexa can hear her better. “Let me take you on a date.”
Lexa opens her mouth and closes it, eyes widening.
“Are you serious, Clarke?”
“I am.” She nods before adding, licking her lips, “Right now. Just give me two minutes to close the shop and let me buy you a drink, and dinner.”
She can see that Lexa is taken aback, but the girl quickly regains her composure and crosses her arms defensively over her candle.
“And why on earth would I do that, when you have been actively ruining my day?”
It's Clarke's turn to slowly approach Lexa, backing her up to the counter.
“Because your day would significantly improve.”
“I'm not convinced.” Lexa deadpans, but Clarke sees the way she gulps down. “I need a better reason.”
Her voice trails away as she seemingly abandons all hope of looking at anything other than Clarke's lips. Clarke smirks. She knows that she has her.
“Also because, Lexa, I'm going to offer you that candle. My treat. On the house. And the other two you were looking for as well.”
Clarke quite possibly never saw anything as dorky and adorable as the way Lexa's eyes light up with excitement.
“What about a candlelit dinner, Clarke? I happen to know just the place...”