Chapter Text
Having lived twenty one years of her life power free, Clarke Griffin hadn't exactly expected to develop the ability once she dropped out of pre-med and moved to the big city to start art school. The first time it happened, she couldn't exactly tell what was going on. She was in the shower and suddenly the walls around her had vanished, she had screamed and slipped, and broken her arm. It was only later that night with her cast on, as the cast vanished and she could actually see past her skin and to the fracture inside her arm that she somewhat understood what was happening. She'd heard about mutants, Clarke just had nothing to make her believe she might be one. She hadn't met any of her grandparents, and he knew her mother wouldn't have told her if any of her parents had been, and her father might have just been trying to protect her, she had been pretty young when he died, just fifteen.
One would argue that they had been repressed by her feelings up until then, first her father's death, and then the necessity to make her mother proud at the expense of being herself, that side of herself had never found the fertile ground to present herself. The ground around her was nothing if not fertile right now, and not all of it was because of her days wasted away painting, but because of the welcoming opportunity her powers had provided her with.
Clarke wasn't proud to admit to her spying, but she couldn't quite help it, she still didn't know how to control her powers, and deep in her subconscious she wondered if she wanted to, when it came to this. Truth was, she had a really attractive neighbor. It was somewhat obscene how beautiful he was, really, what with his tall, wide frame, dark skin, splattered with freckles that made her think of tracing constellations on his back. Dark messy curls and eyes that looked like molten onyxes, and a bone structure that made him look like a modern day Adonis.
Tall, dark and handsome was in his living room, much like her, when the walls between them became crystal clear and Clarke got a glimpse of him peering over some books and papers, tapping a pencil to his lips, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants. That was how she, even though only having ran into him fully clothed in the building a couple of times, knew about the freckles. Then again, freckles were hardly a surprise. Her real surprise came when, tired after a long, frustrating session with her canvas, Clarke came out of the shower to find her neighbor in a similar predicament as she opened her eyes, and when his towel dropped to the ground, she found herself narrowing her eyes to make sense of what she was seeing. Was that a fucking Hello Kitty tattoo???
She squealed in surprise, so much so that it was enough to knock her back onto her bed. Clarke didn't know 3A's name yet, but from everything she could piece from her spying ventures, he really wasn't the type to have such a silly tattoo. 3A was serious, he didn't smile too much from what she could tell, he drank a lot of coffee, when it came to hard liquor, he was a neat whisky kind of man. He was hard working, whether it was working on his mind or his body, and Clarke had witnessed more of his study sessions that followed or came before a session of push ups and ab crunches, of which had been the cause of many a paint stain on about as many shirts. He read a lot more than he watched TV, and when he did it never seemed to be something funny, or he really didn't have a sense of humor, not that she could blame him, she could count on one hand the comedy themed TV shows that hadn't her scrunching up her nose, movies were even worse. She missed Parks and Recreation.
The Hello Kitty tattoo had been a constant once she managed to get a better hold of what she was doing. Because as much as she wanted to be bold and just cross the hall and knock on his door, maybe ask him out for coffee, she wasn't sure how he'd take to the idea of dating someone like her, Mutants weren't exactly everyone's cup of tea, but she couldn't keep her attraction to 3A in check. It had gotten so bad Clarke had somewhat memorized his schedule, she was there during too many study/work out sessions and plenty showers, sometimes she cleared the path to him before bed just to wish him a good night.
It was one night, after a particularly intense dream with Hello Kitty Tattoo and his hands touching her in ways she had been the only one who’d touched herself in quite a while, that she woke up in a sweat, shaking as an orgasm ripped through her. She reached for the glass of water she kept on her nightstand, and took a long sip at it, chocking with her eagerness, as she tried to calm herself. It wasn’t that this was surprising, she’d fantasized about him plenty before, gotten herself off to thoughts of him plenty of times before, but it had never happened in her sleep, and none of her orgasms had ever been so intense. SHE HADN’T EVEN BEEN TOUCHING HERSELF FOR FUCK’S SAKE.
"Jesus Christ, Griffin, get a grip." She whispered out loud as she got up, the summer heat weighed on her even at night, and even at night, she felt trapped in the concrete confines of her building. Okay, it had more to do with the fact that her air conditioning was busted than the fact that she felt trapped. Her heart still hadn't calmed down to it's normal pace and she could feel the sweat dripping down her neck, she desperately needed some fresh air.
Grabbing a pair of jean shorts and some flip flops, Clarke pulled her hair up in a loose bun, before she gathered some supplies in her hands, one of her sketch pads and some charcoal, mind set on making her way to the building's terrace. Maybe she could sketch the skyline and see if that'd calm her down, or an anatomically correct picture of Hello Kitty Tattoo's back and just crawl further into the whole she had dug herself. She only stopped by the kitchen to get a bottle of water to bring with her, taking the stairs two at a time she soon got to the terrace two floors above, but obviously, as her luck would have it, she wouldn't be there alone.
Biting her lower lip as she took in the view of him bringing a cigarette to his lips, and taking a long drag. All he had on were his often used grey sweatpants, and a black sleeveless shirt, his hair was ruffled, and he looked flustered, which she questioned why, but the thought didn't last long in her mind. As her eyes finally made their way down to the curve of his ass, and her brain was screaming with the sight of that Hello Kitty Tattoo, and if she had found that surprising, Clarke certainly wasn't expecting what came out of his mouth next, his mouth twisted in a smirk as he put out his cigarette.
"I am dying to hear how exactly you know about that, Princess."