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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒
you fit me better than my favorite sweater

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒you fit me better than my favorite sweater

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IT WAS A few hours later when Hope woke up in Clarke's arms. She blushed heavily as she realized they were both laying on the ground his, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, and the other holding her arm on his chest. His fingers were lightly wrapped around her arm, probably to make sure she was safe. At that thought, she blushed even more.

She looked up slowly through her eyelashes to get a good look at his sleeping face. He was pouting, and his dark curls were all over the place; it made Hope want to run her fingers through them. Even though neither of them have had a proper shower due to there being none in this nothingness, neither of them smelled bad or looked dirty.

Hope continued to analyze Clarke's facial features, finding that he was better looking than his brother — Landon.

Hope had to admit, she did start to feel things for Landon over her time of saving his ass every damn day it seemed like, but he was too vanilla in her opinion. He was too soft and didn't know how to take care of himself.

But Clarke on the other hand — he was the type of boy you wouldn't want to bring to your father. He was bad in a sense, he was cocky, witty, and manipulating. But, underneath all of that, he was also kind, and just trying to be approved by the only family he has. She related to him so much.

Yes, she was kind and always thought about others above herself — except when her family couldn't be in the same place without killing everyone — but, she has a rough past. After meeting her father and then him being able to be around her, she tried to hard to place herself in his life, but he made it seem like he didn't love her. And because of her being so desperate to get her father back, to get her whole family back together, half of it is now dead. She's going to carry that weight with her for the rest of her life.

Overall, they understood each other more than they thought they would ever understand someone. They are all each other has, and even though they hated that thought at the beginning, but now, they actually like it. They get to see sides of each other they have never seen before.

"Hope," Clarke murmured in his sleep which pulled Hope out of her daydreaming, and she blinked, their eyes connecting. She furrowed his brow before he realized the position they were in, and he blushed heavily and started stuttering over his words.

Hope smiled and he relaxed, though, his heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew she felt it because she laughed. It was a cute laugh that only made his heart speed up even more. It confused him, but he didn't dwell on why he was reacting this way, instead, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Good dreams?" She asked quietly with a blush, and he chuckled lightly. "I think that was the best sleep i've gotten since we've been in this hell hole."

Clarke chuckled and examined her features with soft eyes. Her eyes were as blue as the sky, her pupils were dilated, and her lips were slightly parted as she watched him. His eyes widened as he realized that she had been talking and he was too busy clearly checking her out.

"Oh, um, yeah. I-I slept pretty good too," he stuttered out, his cheeks getting redder and hotter the longer he tried to fix his mistake.

Hope giggled and buried her head in his chest, the hand that was on his chest moved slightly, and he sucked in a breath. Her fingers scraped against his thin shirt and he felt his own hand that was on her waist twitch. She then squealed and he froze as she basically moved her body more onto his.

"Don't do that," she softly told him through her giggles.

"Why?" He breathed out as she pulled her head up, looking him in the eyes with a teeth showing smile.

"I might or might not be ticklish," she told him which made him let out a breathless chuckle. "Don't laugh." She playfully slapped his shoulder and that was when she realized that she was practically on top of him. Her left leg was across his lap, his right hand laying on it subconsciously. And their faces were so close to one another that she could feel his breath on his face. Weirdly enough, his breath still smelled like mint.

"I think it's cute," he said, a grin on his lips, and she tilted her head, her hair falling around them like a curtain.

Slowly, he moved his hand up her leg and she shivered against him, making him smirk.

And then suddenly, he tickled her side and she let out a loud snort, and she flung herself backwards. She was no longer on him, no, it was the opposite now. He was leaning over her, smirking mischievously.

"No, don't!" Hope exclaimed, but she was laughing. His eyes twinkled like stars in the night sky before he started tickling her. She was squealing, snorting, and trying to wiggle away from him, but he simply straddled her legs, keeping her in place.

All that was heard was their laughs through the cave.

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