[ holding his hands up, bellamy only smiles, and slides the cake tray off the counter. holding it in one hand, he moves toward his oven, and lowers himself into a squat once he opens the door. it's not necessarily smart to do this without any oven mitts on, but bellamy supposes he likes to live on the edge when it comes to this. he doesn't glance over his shoulder at her when he says, ] That's one thing you don't need to ask me to do. [ she doesn't know all the details, but he'd trusted her with his life inside the mountain, to be his guide when he had no inkling of how to dismantle an acid fog machine. ]
[ he drops it in as lightly as he can on the rack, closes the door, and fiddles with the knobs before he stands up. moving back to stand beside her, he drags his thumb around the thickest part of the leftover batter in the bowl and sucks it off. ] Doesn't taste too bad.
[Of course, he'll deflate her completely with that simple comment, and he probably knows it. He's effective. She lets out a sigh, and doesn't say anything else. Good, she thinks, trusting her is a good bet.
When he joins her up next to the counter again, she swallows down any comment about cleaning up, and licks the batter off the whisk instead. Gets some on her nose, too, accidentally.] Complaints about the taste can be directed to Betty Crocker.
[ smiling, his brows furrow together, ] Who? [ but he doesn't care who betty crocker is. there's names who go with the faces on the shows where they cook things, but bellamy's never been content to pay attention unless they're on real housewives. ]
[ without thinking, he reaches forward to swipe his thumb over the tip of her nose, and licks the batter off the pad of his thumb. ] This is the best part. [ he looks down at the bowl and drags his index finger along it before he sucks that off. ] Only reason to make a cake.
She's on the box. [Did he not notice the box? She rolls her eyes and then freezes again, at the touch of his finger on her nose. And if she looks down at his mouth as he licks it off, and vaguely hears Jem's advice again of you should tell him, well.
[ he laughs, and rests his hips against the counter at an angle so he can continue dragging his fingers along the inside of the bowl and licking the batter off. if they were given the chance to bake cakes on the ark, he knows he would've made mom make one each day just so he could do this. ]
You're weird. [ he glances up at her, smile brightening his face. he licks at his fingers again before he teases her, ] You Googled how to make a cake before you got here. I know it, you know it, [ he taps the box hard. ] Betty even knows it.
You didn't even know who Betty was five seconds ago, don't bring her into it. [As far as defenses go, it's not her best one. It makes her laugh a little, really, and she feels like retaliation is needed so she bops him on the nose with the whisk again.]
[ shaking his head, he smiles. he leaves the batter on his nose, turning away from her to set the box upright. then he flicks it, making it fall down onto the counter. he doesn't pick it up again. ]
Betty agrees. We're good friends.
[ when he drags his fingers along the inside of the bowl, he doesn't lick the batter off again. he swipes his fingers along her cheek — and shrugs his shoulders in mock innocence as he repeats the action inside the bowl with the intention to lick it off. ]
You knocked her down. [Which isn't why she sputters the most, no; that has to do with him actually retaliating with batter to her cheek. It pulls an inexplicable loud, short laugh out of her.]
Oh my god - [She reaches inside the bowl, swipe fingers along the edge to catch some batter, and smears it down in a line from his forehead to his chin.] Your face is weird.
[ scrunching up his face for a moment, bellamy settles on leaving the batter on him as it is. despite the batter feeling cold and odd on his face, he supposes if he wipes at it she'll feel satisfied he's bothered by it. and bellamy's anything but stupidly stubborn when it comes to his refusal of giving anyone what they want. ]
[ so he swipes his fingers and thumb inside the bowl and then takes a step forward, focused on cradling her cheek with his clean hand as he smears batter on her face and above her brow to her forehead like he's some sort of painter. smudging it, he keeps his focus on his fingers, tongue between his teeth for a moment. ] You look better now. Very Zero-G like.
[She has time to take a step back and let out a laugh, a warning laugh that he seems to completely bypass, because that's all her time. Then, there's his hand on her cheek, and so much sticky batter - she was sure she'd cleaned the bowl better than that - going all over her cheek. She lets out a keening sound of protest, standing still with her eyes closed shut and her mouth stretched into a grin.
Does she care that she's dirty? Not really.] You're the worst - [she laughs out, and opens one eye cautiously, then the other.] Here, join the club. [She grabs onto his shoulders, gets up on her toes, and rubs her smudged cheek against his with a delighted laugh.] Revenge.
[ immediately his hands fall to her hips, one a little dirtier than the other but he doubts raven's going to mind much, and supports here as she stands very close to him. he'd make himself smaller, if that was at all possible, but he keeps his posture as it is and his face still despite knowing she's bound to smear more batter all over it. ]
[ she surprises him by rubbing her cheek against his. squinting, he scrunches up his nose and remains still regardless of being tempted to turn away. he can feel the cold spread over his cheek, her much warmer against him than the whisk had been when she'd chosen to tap his nose. despite knowing he could step back and be out of her reach, he stays where he is instead. ]
[It's not like she can keep it up a long time, he's still a tower in comparison to her, and she'd forgotten about that. Maybe because she's gotten so used to being on the same level as him lately - on the couch, the bed, the floor - but she's forcefully reminded now. She drops back to her normal height, and looks up to see what damage she did, a little out of breath.]
[ scrunching his face, bellamy frowns and looks up as though he can see the batter on his face. he can't, not without some sort of mirror. he can feel it, and he knows it's covering a good portion of his cheek. it doesn't threaten to sweep into his eyes, so he doesn't lift his hands from her hips to wipe it away. ]
It's a good attempt. [ he supposes, but it's fun to shit stir her than to build up her confidence about her art skills when he doesn't think she needs it in this very moment. his eyes move to her face, lingering on where the batter sits unevenly on her cheek and forehead. ]
[ lifting his hand, he watches his thumb swipe over the batter on her cheek to smooth out the layer. ] Think you should stick to mechanic things and making cakes.
[She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it, and waits. Until he's done fumbling with whatever he's trying to perfect on her face right now.]
I wouldn't quit my day job for art anyway. [She reaches up and rubs the heel of her palm gently over the line above his eyebrow, stopping batter from dripping into his eye. At the most now, it'll just be sticky.]
[ but clarke's are better, and he thinks to say it, but forgoes it once she touches him. looking at her as she wipes at his brow, it's then he glances up to watch her wrist. it's almost childlike in the way he's not content to simply look away, but to focus on her hand as though he can step outside of himself to watch it. ]
[ he looks at her again, and instead of joking, he says, ] It's going to take a while for the cake to do its thing. [ he reaches up to brush his thumb against her chin before dropping his hand. ] And you've got a lot of it on your face.
[She supposes this is would be a good moment to step back, and wash their faces, and catch up on...whatever. Or play with the dogs. But she doesn't move much, given that she just likes the way his hand sits on her hip, and chin.]
[ what bellamy does his best not to give thought to is glaringly obvious when he looks at her. she's close — and he's used to her being close, given how she sits next to him and her leg often touches his if it's not in his lap. he's had her on his back in the ocean, and he's been completely fine with her wrapping her arms around him and bringing him closer to her. all those moments have lead to him feeling comfortable enough to be at ease with her, being more like the boy who he thinks he abandoned on the ark and comfortable to reach out and touch her. ]
You should definitely go out looking more like this. Cake suits you better than grease.
It's sweeter, too, [she just answers to not shut up. Because if she shuts up, inevitably her gaze will shift down his face again, passing over the cake batter smudges and the freckles that are both familiar and so similar to haphazard constellations that she thinks them mysterious, moving over his angles and sharp curves until she finds something soft.
And just as inevitably, she'll end up staring at his mouth for a few seconds too long, before snapping out of it all and realizing that she did all she was trying to avoid doing.] I - uh - I'll note it down for make-up possibilities.
[ he arches his brow, evidently amused. ] Really? [ he smiles. ] Might want to try a few different cake flavours first before you set your heart on this one, Raven.
[ and he lifts his hand to rub his fingers against the side of his nose, smearing and collecting some batter over his cheek and on his fingers. instead of wiping them off on his jeans, he simply licks them. it's almost a habit now: make a cake and eat what's left in the bowl, uncaring if it's on his face, wrists, or the whisk. but he cares it's on her face, and there's the temptation to wipe at her cheek to smear it along it to the corner of her lip and down her neck. ]
[ glancing down for a brief moment, he tilts his head to the side. ] Come on. [ he nudges her hip with the hand that lingers there. ] I can't pull this off like you.
[It's not like she's hypnotized, nothing like that. She's just...very invested in watching, quietly, careful not to break some spell. He breaks it first, for what it's worth.]
You were trying to? [She could reach out and clean up the spot he missed, close to the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't want her to. Didn't want her to. Didn't want something, anyway, and she can't pretend like she understands why, anymore.
She lets out a small sigh, an exhale, and licks the cake batter from the corner of her lip.] I don't know, I like this flavour just fine. What if the others fall short?
[ it's all bullshit, really. he's talking out of his ass and she has to know he is, because this is about cake on her face. he's not intent on measuring his words, despite reflecting on the power of them recently when it comes to charlotte and wells, and he's not keen to agonise over them now. but it's easier than letting the silence slip inside of his apartment like the mistletoe had with clarke long before, and so he keeps up the ruse cake's a fine look on her when he thinks anything but blood is. ]
I know cake just doesn't suit me. Think you got it all over my face, too.
[She lets out a small laugh, uncertain, and looks over his face again, instead of just into his eyes, purposefully.] Guess I did. [For the record, he got it on her face the most first, all she did was bop his nose.
But now there's an impasse, and for all that she knows how she'd like to break it, how she'd like to step closer and just - ]
Sorry... [Quietly, as she looks away.] I know you don't want this.
[ his brows furrow, not quite following her train of thought for a moment. but then he realises she's not talking about any cake or any joke they happen to pick up and fling back and forth to each other. the easy atmosphere is slowly sucked out like the oxygen had when an airlock had been open. letting his hand drop from her hip, he looks down, and the crease to his brows becomes one that's of his own doing instead of the fingers of confusion pulling at his face. ]
[ there's a difference between not wanting something and not wanting to let yourself have it, and bellamy thinks raven's confused the two — or has looked into his words and heard what's easiest for her to handle. he doesn't like to think much on it, even though he has, seeing him more conflicted with each passing day as he's come to realise his life in eudio isn't as easy as he originally wanted it to be. ]
[ licking his lips, he looks up at her, and curls his hand around the edge of the counter. ]
It's not that. [ he lets his gaze drop, frowning once more. expressing himself when it doesn't come to anger or octavia is hard, and bellamy's been trying to figure himself out in eudio — who he is now with all these months stacking up and changing the way he's come to view life, and with what inevitably awaits him as each day passes without him waking up to octavia being in the city. he looks away and wipes at his cheek with the heel of his hand, disliking how the batter feels heavy on his face. ]
[One of these days, she'll stop feeling guilty when she ruins the mood by wanting to hear it loud and clear instead of excuses that just don't...really work. Aren't really understandable for her. One of these days.
Right now, she feels guilty enough to make up for it by going to check on the cake and crouching in front of the oven like she's hypnotized. A murmur:]
[ he looks at where she had stood, and stops trying to wipe his face clean. it is what it is; it's almost better than blood, given how it doesn't stink as that had and it's not as sticky and uncomfortable. ]
I'm planning to leave, Raven.
[ he looks at the back of her head. letting out breath, he presses his back against the counter. he doesn't tell her what she already knows — despite expressing to her he doesn't want to go back and face all of them, he has to. what she doesn't know may chance her opinion entirely, but bellamy knows where clarke's left them, he has to step up and try to make sure their people — the delinquents, especially — are safe. ]
[ where his voice would be rough and loud, it's just soft. ] That's not going to change.
[ resting his hands against the edge of the counter, he curls his fingers around it and looks away from her. ]
It's already hard enough — I don't want to leave you and Clarke, and I know if I kiss you it's just going to make it a lot harder to go.
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[ he drops it in as lightly as he can on the rack, closes the door, and fiddles with the knobs before he stands up. moving back to stand beside her, he drags his thumb around the thickest part of the leftover batter in the bowl and sucks it off. ] Doesn't taste too bad.
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When he joins her up next to the counter again, she swallows down any comment about cleaning up, and licks the batter off the whisk instead. Gets some on her nose, too, accidentally.] Complaints about the taste can be directed to Betty Crocker.
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[ without thinking, he reaches forward to swipe his thumb over the tip of her nose, and licks the batter off the pad of his thumb. ] This is the best part. [ he looks down at the bowl and drags his index finger along it before he sucks that off. ] Only reason to make a cake.
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It's because sugar.] You're so weird sometimes.
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[ he laughs, and rests his hips against the counter at an angle so he can continue dragging his fingers along the inside of the bowl and licking the batter off. if they were given the chance to bake cakes on the ark, he knows he would've made mom make one each day just so he could do this. ]
You're weird. [ he glances up at her, smile brightening his face. he licks at his fingers again before he teases her, ] You Googled how to make a cake before you got here. I know it, you know it, [ he taps the box hard. ] Betty even knows it.
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That doesn't make me weird, it makes me prepared.
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[ shaking his head, he smiles. he leaves the batter on his nose, turning away from her to set the box upright. then he flicks it, making it fall down onto the counter. he doesn't pick it up again. ]
Betty agrees. We're good friends.
[ when he drags his fingers along the inside of the bowl, he doesn't lick the batter off again. he swipes his fingers along her cheek — and shrugs his shoulders in mock innocence as he repeats the action inside the bowl with the intention to lick it off. ]
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Oh my god - [She reaches inside the bowl, swipe fingers along the edge to catch some batter, and smears it down in a line from his forehead to his chin.] Your face is weird.
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[ so he swipes his fingers and thumb inside the bowl and then takes a step forward, focused on cradling her cheek with his clean hand as he smears batter on her face and above her brow to her forehead like he's some sort of painter. smudging it, he keeps his focus on his fingers, tongue between his teeth for a moment. ] You look better now. Very Zero-G like.
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Does she care that she's dirty? Not really.] You're the worst - [she laughs out, and opens one eye cautiously, then the other.] Here, join the club. [She grabs onto his shoulders, gets up on her toes, and rubs her smudged cheek against his with a delighted laugh.] Revenge.
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[ she surprises him by rubbing her cheek against his. squinting, he scrunches up his nose and remains still regardless of being tempted to turn away. he can feel the cold spread over his cheek, her much warmer against him than the whisk had been when she'd chosen to tap his nose. despite knowing he could step back and be out of her reach, he stays where he is instead. ]
Think you made yours worse, Raven.
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It's very artful.
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It's a good attempt. [ he supposes, but it's fun to shit stir her than to build up her confidence about her art skills when he doesn't think she needs it in this very moment. his eyes move to her face, lingering on where the batter sits unevenly on her cheek and forehead. ]
[ lifting his hand, he watches his thumb swipe over the batter on her cheek to smooth out the layer. ] Think you should stick to mechanic things and making cakes.
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I wouldn't quit my day job for art anyway. [She reaches up and rubs the heel of her palm gently over the line above his eyebrow, stopping batter from dripping into his eye. At the most now, it'll just be sticky.]
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[ but clarke's are better, and he thinks to say it, but forgoes it once she touches him. looking at her as she wipes at his brow, it's then he glances up to watch her wrist. it's almost childlike in the way he's not content to simply look away, but to focus on her hand as though he can step outside of himself to watch it. ]
[ he looks at her again, and instead of joking, he says, ] It's going to take a while for the cake to do its thing. [ he reaches up to brush his thumb against her chin before dropping his hand. ] And you've got a lot of it on your face.
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I thought you said it suited me.
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[ what bellamy does his best not to give thought to is glaringly obvious when he looks at her. she's close — and he's used to her being close, given how she sits next to him and her leg often touches his if it's not in his lap. he's had her on his back in the ocean, and he's been completely fine with her wrapping her arms around him and bringing him closer to her. all those moments have lead to him feeling comfortable enough to be at ease with her, being more like the boy who he thinks he abandoned on the ark and comfortable to reach out and touch her. ]
You should definitely go out looking more like this. Cake suits you better than grease.
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And just as inevitably, she'll end up staring at his mouth for a few seconds too long, before snapping out of it all and realizing that she did all she was trying to avoid doing.] I - uh - I'll note it down for make-up possibilities.
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[ and he lifts his hand to rub his fingers against the side of his nose, smearing and collecting some batter over his cheek and on his fingers. instead of wiping them off on his jeans, he simply licks them. it's almost a habit now: make a cake and eat what's left in the bowl, uncaring if it's on his face, wrists, or the whisk. but he cares it's on her face, and there's the temptation to wipe at her cheek to smear it along it to the corner of her lip and down her neck. ]
[ glancing down for a brief moment, he tilts his head to the side. ] Come on. [ he nudges her hip with the hand that lingers there. ] I can't pull this off like you.
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You were trying to? [She could reach out and clean up the spot he missed, close to the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't want her to. Didn't want her to. Didn't want something, anyway, and she can't pretend like she understands why, anymore.
She lets out a small sigh, an exhale, and licks the cake batter from the corner of her lip.] I don't know, I like this flavour just fine. What if the others fall short?
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[ it's all bullshit, really. he's talking out of his ass and she has to know he is, because this is about cake on her face. he's not intent on measuring his words, despite reflecting on the power of them recently when it comes to charlotte and wells, and he's not keen to agonise over them now. but it's easier than letting the silence slip inside of his apartment like the mistletoe had with clarke long before, and so he keeps up the ruse cake's a fine look on her when he thinks anything but blood is. ]
I know cake just doesn't suit me. Think you got it all over my face, too.
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But now there's an impasse, and for all that she knows how she'd like to break it, how she'd like to step closer and just - ]
Sorry... [Quietly, as she looks away.] I know you don't want this.
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[ there's a difference between not wanting something and not wanting to let yourself have it, and bellamy thinks raven's confused the two — or has looked into his words and heard what's easiest for her to handle. he doesn't like to think much on it, even though he has, seeing him more conflicted with each passing day as he's come to realise his life in eudio isn't as easy as he originally wanted it to be. ]
[ licking his lips, he looks up at her, and curls his hand around the edge of the counter. ]
It's not that. [ he lets his gaze drop, frowning once more. expressing himself when it doesn't come to anger or octavia is hard, and bellamy's been trying to figure himself out in eudio — who he is now with all these months stacking up and changing the way he's come to view life, and with what inevitably awaits him as each day passes without him waking up to octavia being in the city. he looks away and wipes at his cheek with the heel of his hand, disliking how the batter feels heavy on his face. ]
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Right now, she feels guilty enough to make up for it by going to check on the cake and crouching in front of the oven like she's hypnotized. A murmur:]
What then?
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I'm planning to leave, Raven.
[ he looks at the back of her head. letting out breath, he presses his back against the counter. he doesn't tell her what she already knows — despite expressing to her he doesn't want to go back and face all of them, he has to. what she doesn't know may chance her opinion entirely, but bellamy knows where clarke's left them, he has to step up and try to make sure their people — the delinquents, especially — are safe. ]
[ where his voice would be rough and loud, it's just soft. ] That's not going to change.
[ resting his hands against the edge of the counter, he curls his fingers around it and looks away from her. ]
It's already hard enough — I don't want to leave you and Clarke, and I know if I kiss you it's just going to make it a lot harder to go.
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