you can call me babe for the weekend

december twenty fourth

Clarke's face lit up in the very moment her phone dinged. She looked down at the notification, tucking her short, blonde hair behind her ear. Her thumbs glided across the keyboard on bottom half of her phone screen.

Don't you have a job? I'll be there when I get there.

Clarke sent her message to Raven and pressed her head against the yellow cab's window. It was cold, freezing even, and yet the coolness felt wonderful against her temple. She sighed, causing her breath to fog a portion of the window. Her eyes observed each snow covered building as they drove by as the memories flooded her mind with every one they passed.

The yellow cab stopped to a halt at the red light. Her eyes searched for the west corner of the intersection. More specifically, she searched for the familiar, orange glow of the Autozone. Its parking lot was empty, except for the blue Chevy pickup under the streetlight.

Bellamy's blue Chevy pickup.

Red tail lights beamed brightly through the exhaust fumes, and the glow from the red street lights reflected off the salted roads.There was no need for Clarke to look at her phone to know the time. The familiar silhouette of Bellamy Blake standing in front of the glass door gave it all away. By his appearance, she knew if she checked her phone, the time would read nearly ten o'clock.

When Clarke fled this town, he worked this second job just to put a roof over his and his sister's heads. Evidently, three years later, he was still the last to leave every night.

A green arrow appeared, and the cab inched cautiously across the icy roads. She could see it now: the Dropship Bar & Grill. The flickering, blue neon open sign grew closer as they near the parking lot.

The brakes came to a screeching to a halt, and Clarke searched through her brown tote for her wallet. She pulled out a wad of cash and passed it up to the cabbie who, in return, thanked the blonde.

Clarke opened the door and stepped out, shoving her hands further down into her pockets as if it would provide a better source of warmth. The appearance of her breath floated in the cold, Polis air as she took in the building before her.

The fall air was cool and crisp, and somehow, the parking lot was full despite the homecoming game taking place at the high school 4 miles away. Clarke's face lit up in the night when she saw the blue Chevy drive into the lot.

"I was beginning to think you blew me off for some football game."

Clarke walked forward and rested her arm on his downed window. Bellamy propped his head up on his elbow, and she noticed the faintest smudge of grease across his left brow.

"You know that's not my style, Princess," he smirked.

"What is your style?"

"How 'bout you jump in, and I'll show you."

Clarke was brought back to the present the moment her cab driver slammed his trunk shut. She waved in gratitude and extended the handle of her suitcase up before rolling it to the door.

She stepped through the door and stomps on the rug to knock off any snow on her boots. Her hands tugged the beanie from her head and the gloves from her hands before stuffing them in her coat pockets.

"You're late."

"Flight was delayed and so was my train."

"Excuses, excuses. Welcome home, Griffin. I like the pink tips, by the way."

The blonde smiled and wrapped her arms around her best friend. Despite not having seen each other since the day Clarke left, they managed to keep in touch regularly.