He’s pointedly not looking at her and she’s sort of, well, staring. It’s 10 on a Friday night so there’s hardly anyone else in here, but well, Bellamy Blake. She’s blearily editing her essay, glasses askew, hair greasy all the way down to the tips, when she realises who she has been sitting next to. Instead of crying over her essay in her room, she decides to cry over it in the library. (God, so much highlighting.)īy her second week, her mom is worried about her lack of a social life so Clarke decides to shake things up. She spends a lot of time holed up in her dorm room eating greasy pizza and highlighting. She makes friends at a glacial pace and her classes are challenging. She misses how easy everything used to be. She misses her old friends and her parents and even the shitty diner where she used to do her homework. A good kind of different, Clarke tells herself sternly, but she misses home. “Yeah,” Clarke says absentmindedly, her fingers flying over the page as she sketches his receding profile, “Definitely.”Ĭollege is different. I thought he was going to beat the shit out of me.”
Raven exhales, thumping her head against the table. He gets up abruptly, book shoved messily into his bag, and strides off. His jaw clenches, long fingers tightening on the spine of the book. “Holy shit, is he reading? I didn’t know he could read.” She watches the muscles of his back ripple through his tight blue shirt and her mouth feels a little dry.
#See me in hindsight skin
He’s all tanned skin and purplish bruises and that shouldn’t be attractive, but it kind of is. Clarke is a little distracted by the sharp angle of his jaw, the freckles spread across his nose. Objectively, he’s attractive, she thinks grudgingly. She ducks her head back down, pretends to be absorbed in her drawing before peeking through her lashes. Raven jabs her hard, cricks her neck towards the left. “Shit,” She says, “How can someone so problematic be so attractive?”Ĭlarke looks up from her sketchbook, catches a glimpse of broad shoulders, mussed, dark hair. Clarke throws down her controller and admits total defeat.) “That’s just psychotic, Clarke.” (Princess Peach crashes into a wall and plunges to her watery death with a high pitched squeal. He punched this kid, Atom, I think? For like, no reason whatsoever. “There’s always one psycho in every dorm,” Monty tells her, jabbing at the buttons of his controller with practiced ease, “In our dorm, it’s this kid called Bellamy Blake. The second person is also coincidentally, her first friend at college. He looks like he’s been through a wood chipper.” “Meaning he’s constantly getting into fights and shit. “Meaning?” She asks, as she sips on her tea. “There’s this guy in my dorm with like a massive chip on his shoulder,” He says nonchalantly, as if that’s not going to pique Clarke’s interest.
The first person who tells her about him is Wells. She learns about him before she even meets him.
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