Chapter Text
Clarke stared down at the chipped, off-white coffee cup sitting in front of her, with its thick black block lettering that read Quid Faceret Cicero?
“What did I tell you about bringing your own mugs into my diner?” She asked dryly, looking up at the smiling man across from her.
Bellamy just laughed, bracing his arms on the counter as he leaned forward. The early morning light glowed golden on his face, highlighting his freckles even more than usual. In a bright tone, he replied, “Well, good morning to you too, princess. Coffee please?”
Rolling her eyes, Clarke reached back for one of the diner’s mugs and a pot of coffee. As she poured it pointedly into the mug that read Jake’s, Bellamy laughed and continued, “You do know I’m just going to transfer it right into my mug as soon as I get it, right?”
Before Clarke could reply, the phone rang. With a warning glance, she turned and grabbed the phone. She confirmed her bread order for tomorrow morning, hung up, and then spun around, ready to wipe down the counter, but Bellamy was still there, grinning at her over his now coffee-filled nerdy Roman history mug. Octavia had arrived in the meantime and perched herself on one of the stools.
“Morning, Clarke!” She chirped, just as much of an early bird as her brother.
“You can’t sit there,” Clarke said evenly, trying to suppress a smile.
Bellamy shot her a confused glance as Octavia slid off uneasily.
“Oops, sorry I didn’t think the seat was taken,” she said, sliding one stool over.
“Not there either,” Clarke continued.
Bellamy straightened, narrowing his stare. “Well, then, where are we supposed to sit?”
“Maybe at the table with the balloons and the coffee cake I made that has ‘Happy Birthday Octavia’ written on it in icing?” Clarke asked, finally breaking into a smile as she gestured with her pen to the decorated table in the front by the window.
With a pleased laugh, Octavia spun around from her stool and darted over to the table. Bellamy lingered, but Clarke tried to ignore him, instead absently scribbling out a to-do list. His large, warm hand closed over her busy one, stilling it and forcing her to meet his stare.
“Thank you,” he said in a low, sincere voice, dark brown eyes warm with gratitude.
“I’m doing it for Octavia,” Clarke replied archly. “And because it’s her birthday, I’ll let your personal mug use slide, just this once.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” Bellamy said with a chuckle as he walked off to join his sister.
Just for a second, Clarke watched him go, with that confident stride of his.Those jeans are really working for him, she thought with a sigh, before shaking off the ridiculous trance and yelling back to Jasper to hurry up with cooking the waiting meal orders. She slid some ready plates across the counter to Monty, who delivered them to their correct tables with his usual goofy grin.
A little while later, when she returned from circling the room to check on her customers, she saw Bellamy had slipped behind the counter to refill his mug.
“Hey!” She called out, slapping her rag down. “What did I say about you going behind the counter?”
“You looked a little busy,” Bellamy said, nonchalantly still pouring his coffee. “Just trying to make your morning go a little easier.”
With a scoff, Clarke rounded the counter and placed her hands on his abdomen, pushing him backwards towards the seating area. Ignoring the way he twitched at her touch, she propelled him back to his table.
“Sit, and stay,” she said with a glare.
Octavia laughed through a mouthful of coffee cake, and Clarke turned on her heel back to the counter. Grabbing the now-empty pot of coffee from the holder, she spun to make another batch, jumping in surprise at Bellamy back sitting at the counter.
“I need to place our order,” he said, heading off her imminent protest.
“The coffee cake wasn’t enough?” She asked, free hand going onto her cocked hip. A slow blush rose on her cheeks as she realized his eyes were lingering there. When he flicked his gaze up to meet hers again, she scowled, determined to mask the effect he had on her.
“You know O. She eats like a trucker,” he commented, giving her a lazy, charming grin that had Clarke’s ears burning.
“Wonder where she learned that from,” Clarke shot back, hiding a smile of her own as she wrote down their usual order and slid it back to Jasper.
When she turned back to Bellamy, his expression had dropped into something sad and a little bit angry. Guessing she had hit a nerve, Clarke topped off his coffee cup, staying silent. She just had to wait a bit and he would talk; she knew that well enough after so many years.
“I’m just glad she has the opportunity to eat like that now,” he said softly, staring down into his drink. “It didn’t used to be this way, when I was younger.”
Heart aching, Clarke put the coffee pot back and leaned down on the counter, dipping her head to catch his attention again.
“And she has you to thank for that. You do right by her, Bell, in all the best ways. She couldn’t ask for a better brother.”
She watched Bellamy swallow thickly as he nodded once. “I just wish I could give her even more. She deserves it.”
“No doubt she does, but she has you, someone who loves her unconditionally. I don’t think she would ask for more, even if you could offer her the world.”
Bellamy threw her a soft smile, glancing back to his sister. Clarke followed suit, noticing someone else at the siblings’ table now. With a disbelieving huff, Bellamy started to stand, no doubt intending to scare off the guy who was making Octavia giggle loudly.
“Hold up,” Clarke said, catching Bellamy’s arm before he could leave. “It’s just Lincoln.”
“Who the hell is Lincoln?” He asked roughly, glaring at her in frustration. He tugged his arm, but she had a solid grip on it and wouldn’t let go.
“He rents part of the studio space upstairs. Really talented painter, taking a gap year to work on some projects before going to college. Got into Yale, actually,” she added, hoping her approval would lessen Bellamy’s worry.
“How does he know my sister?” He asked, turning his focus slowly back to Clarke.
Biting her lip, because she knew he wasn’t going to like her answer, she slowly replied, “They’ve run into each other a couple of times.”
“How many times?”
“More than a few.”
“Are they dating?”
“Not yet.” Bellamy tensed at her words, so she added, “He’s a good guy, Bell. I’ve known his family for a few years. I can vouch for him.”
He stared carefully at her for a few minutes, and she held his judging gaze resolutely, folding her arms across her chest. Then, he suddenly deflated, plopping down into a stool dejectedly.
“Damn. I almost got her all the way through high school without dealing with the boy thing.”
Clarke coughed to cover a laugh, because she knew for a fact Octavia had dated more than a few guys in the last couple of years. Bellamy would be furious at both of them for not telling him, but Clarke understood the necessity of Octavia having something private. The boys here weren’t enough for her anyways, so the relationships had never lasted long. Octavia was destined for much more than this small town; everyone knew that. They also knew it was because of Bellamy that she was poised for great things, even if he stubbornly refused to take any credit.
“He’s really okay?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke felt her throat dry up at the trust in his eyes.
“One of the most caring, genuine people I know,” Clarke answered with quiet satisfaction.
Groaning, Bellamy sighed. “I really wish you had said he was an asshole so I could scare him away without feeling guilty.”
With a laugh, Clarke shook her head. “Trust me, he wouldn’t have gotten within a foot of Octavia if I didn’t approve. I would’ve had him out the door before a single word was even exchanged.”
“Planned on taking him down, with all of your muscle? Oh, I would like to see that,” Bellamy teased, eyeing her small frame with a doubtful expression.
“Shut up or I confiscate that mug,” Clarke retorted, grabbing at the cup. Her hand wrapped over his, and she expected him to pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he just stared at her, watching her with careful, warm, intrigued eyes. Her breath caught, and his expression shifting into something intimate. As his lips parted in preparation to say something, they were jolted out of their bubble by Octavia’s arrival.
“Bell, I’m going to be late to school,” she complained, punching his shoulder lightly.
Clarke jerked her hands away, wiping them on her apron to stop the burning sensation that contact with his skin had sparked. It didn’t help much, and neither did the unsteady sound Bellamy made as he cleared his throat. Quickly, she turned around and boxed up their ready breakfast orders so they could eat them on the road.
“Yeah, okay, let’s go,” Bellamy said after taking the boxes, standing up to herd his sister out the door. He glanced back at Clarke once as he left, sending her a hesitant smile, which she returned shyly.
For a while after he left, she just stood at the counter, staring at the door. Eventually, Jasper’s annoyed shouts startled her out of the daze. As she jumped back to reality, Clarke noticed Bellamy’s mug sitting forgotten on the counter. Shaking her head, she dumped out the stale contents and refilled it with her personal brew, smiling as she took a sip and decided she might keep this mug for herself.
Serves him right, she thought giddily, imaging the many ways she could make him earn it back.