unlikely // the 100

N4rd

*Bellamy*

  "What Is Love? I have met in the streets a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, the water passed through his shoes and the stars through his soul"  

- Victor Hugo

We had no idea how we made it to the bookshop but I think we were both glad we did. Maybe it was our boredom that led to our wandering the cloudy city streets or maybe it was the ominous thunder storm that broke over our heads and sent us running to wherever we could stay dry. Maybe it was destiny.

"Destiny?" Clarke scoffed after we settled down and started perusing the aisles. "I think it was just the first store we saw."

"Maybe." I shrugged, "But what about all the other stores around it? Why was this one the first we saw and not any of the others?"

"Probably because next door to this is a gym, which is gross, and a Starbucks and you don't like coffee."

I sighed and pulled a book from its shelf, pretending to read its synopsis when really I just watched Clarke over the top of it. "I suppose."

"Or you're just trying to hide your love of bookstores with some crap about fate." Clarke suggested, peeking at me over her shoulder.

"Why would I hide my love of bookstores?" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands and backing further down the row.

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Because you're a weirdo." She reached out to poke me in the chest but I jumped back before she could, wagging my finger.

"Are you saying you don't like books?" I asked incredulously, putting a hand over my heart. "Because if so I don't think we can be friends." Clarke slid the book she held into its place on the shelf then walked forward toward me.

"You caught me." She grinned as my back hit a shelf and she closed the space between us. Our noses nearly touched and I leaned in for a kiss but before I could she reached past me, grabbed a book, and skipped off.

"Wow," I yelled after her, "that was low, Griffin. Real low."

It was still down pouring as I wandered out into the rest of the bookstore. It was all I could hear, even over the soft music playing throughout the store. But even so, the place was basically empty if you didn't count the cashier, who was ironically reading a book.

"How long has this place been here?" I asked, scanning the crowded shelves and low ceiling. It seemed old and worn, but also could've been built just yesterday and I wouldn't have known.

"As long as I can remember." The girl replied. She couldn't have been any older than 17. "I've only worked here six months but I used to come here as a kid all the time."

"I can see why."

Clarke was right. I was a weirdo, obsessed with dusty bookstores. But I might've just found my new favorite place.

"The best stuff is in the closet in the back." The girl pointed to the back corner of the store with a conspiratorial smile.

"Thanks." I grinned, nearly sprinting to find Clarke and get to the closet. I weaved through every densely packed row but they all remained empty and seemingly untouched, until I reached the far wall. Right in the middle was a peeling red door that stood ajar. If I didn't know any better I might've guessed that it was an entrance to Narnia.

I crept past the door and into a dim room. To be fair, it was a closet, but a fairly large one, filled floor to ceiling with vintage books. And in the center of it all was Clarke.

"Funny seeing you here." She said without turning around, her fingers skimming over the spines of the books.

"Yeah, I didn't know you liked books." I replied, wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. Clarke laughed and leaned her head back.

"We all make sacrifices."

The shelves we stood before were stuffed with books of all kinds. Different sizes, ages, colors. Some were even in different languages and I restrained myself from picking them all out and paging through them for hours. Although, one did stand out to me.

"Oh my God." I gasped, breaking away from Clarke to pull a tall, blue book from the shelf. I hadn't seen it in years but holding it in my hands made it feel like yesterday.

It was a children's storybook of Greek and Roman myths. I felt Clarke peek over my shoulder as I flipped it open and began leafing through. The faded illustrations suddenly made me feel like I was a kid again, gaping at my mom as she read my favorite stories.

"My mom used to read this to me and Octavia every night when we were younger." I explained quietly, stopping on a page I knew so well that it was nearly imprinted in my brain. "Did I ever tell you that I named Octavia?"

Clarke gasped as I ran my fingers over the drawing of King Augustus and his sister Octavia. "Of course you named your little sister after a book character." She laughed.

"It was my favorite." I argued, remembering the delight in Mom's eyes when I picked it. "And Octavia's too when she was old enough."

"I think that's adorable." Clarke planted a kiss on my shoulder. We stood for a moment longer, gazing at the old book until Clarke's phone rang.

"Oh, it's Raven." She said, putting the phone up to her ear. I glanced back down at my book, wondering if I should send Octavia a picture. Or better yet, send the book itself. Her birthday was coming soon...

"No." Clarke whispered, "no, no, no!" By the third "no" she was shrieking.

I don't remember dropping the book or grabbing Clarke's wrists. Only the tears on her face and the crack in her voice when she told me that Finn overdosed. He didn't make it.