It Takes As Long As It Takes

Chapter Twenty One

Notes:

I posted hastily because I needed to get it out, and if there are errors, I'll fix them at a later time. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

She heard the sliding doors close behind them as they paused at the entrance for just a second to get their bearings, noting that they had entered near the deli section. The supermarket was still quite busy at this hour, but she supposed it was because it was a Friday night. She turned to face her friend, to ask where they should start on their shopping list, only to find Raven looking her up and down, with a disbelieved look on her face.

"What are you looking at?" She looked down at herself.

"Clarke. What are you wearing?"

Something perfectly reasonable for a random late night shopping trip to the local supermarket that they "just had to do tonight." Or so Clarke thought. But not Raven apparently.

"What do you mean? This is perfectly acceptable attire. We're just at a supermarket, not having dinner with the Queen."

Raven shook her head, as if giving up on her, and started making her way to the rows of shopping carts. Clarke followed.

"It was dark and I didn't get a good look at you when I picked you up earlier. But you're covered in paint."

Clarke shrugged. It was true. Raven had caught her in the middle of one of her late night painting sessions, insisting that she join her at the supermarket right away because it was her "duty" as a co-maid of honor to help plan and organize the bachelorette party. Since it was late anyway, and she had no one to impress, she had opted not to change and just left in her paint-splattered, frayed and worn-out (but extremely comfortable) loose jeans, rolled up at the bottom, and her somewhat less paint-splattered, relaxed, long dark-green tank top. She had her favorite pair of sneakers on, which, unfortunately, also showed its wear and tear. She had grabbed a light jacket, thinking it might be a little chilly out at night, but it was lovely weather, and so she currently had it tied around her waist. It was not the most put together, she would admit, but she thought she looked charming, in an indie-artist kind of way.

So she said just that. "I think I look charming, in an indie-artist kind of way."

Raven had started making her way towards one end of the market, looking from her list up to the shelves. She glanced back at Clarke.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes, but could not hold in her smile. "You have paint in your hair."

Clarke reached up and felt the strand of hair that had escaped the messy bun she had hastily fashioned on her way out of her apartment. She pulled it in front of her eyes and saw that it was covered in blue paint. Oops.

She tried to feel the rest of her hair but could not tell if she had paint anywhere else. "Is it on anywhere else?"

Without looking. "Yes."

That's helpful. "Thanks."

Now that Raven had made her self-conscious, she gave herself a more thorough lookover in front of one of the glass doors in the frozen section. Thankfully, that was the only spot on her hair that was covered with paint. She did however, realize that she had some paint on her neck, a dash on her right collarbone, some down the side of her arm, and of course, on her hands. Thankfully there was not any paint on her face. Just a little smudge on her left jawline. She lifted her right arm, and saw some just on the underside of her upper arm. How did that even get there? She tried to remember. Had she just been rolling around in paint?