[ There's no point where her dedication lapses, Bellamy's discovering. He keeps waiting for the break, something to mirror the moment Clarke had dropped her guard and dissolved into laughter, balancing a washer on her nose. But it doesn't come even here, but Bellamy can't help himself looking for it.
He sips from his own cup out of turn as his hand drops to the deck to flip the first card. Five of clubs. ]
Alright. Higher or lower?
[ Maybe he could get her to laugh. That seems like a reasonable goal, or maybe Bellamy's just overly optimistic after having spent the night drinking and kissing his way through the festivities. ]
no subject
He sips from his own cup out of turn as his hand drops to the deck to flip the first card. Five of clubs. ]
Alright. Higher or lower?
[ Maybe he could get her to laugh. That seems like a reasonable goal, or maybe Bellamy's just overly optimistic after having spent the night drinking and kissing his way through the festivities. ]