CAN YOU FEEL IT?

[PM]: Always.

Meet me at the front door at 1 o’clock. I need to into town and, as long as you stay with me and don’t wander off on your own, I don’t see the problem in you coming with me.

[ Days in Westmore seem to fly by with alarming speed, the routine filling her days, especially with the added input of the mock-claim. It wasn’t that Scout gave her extra jobs, or chores. But rather the fact Bella strove to prove herself in the claim, hence why almost a week had passed since she’d last spoken to Clarke, though the switch’s words have echoed in her ears and taken a weight of her shoulders, something she’s thankful for ]

[  Kitten heeled pumps tap against the floor as she makes her way to Clarke’s office still dressed in her uniform from the days classes, having only raced back to the room she’s sharing with Scout to pick up the gift and drop the majority of her books off so she’s not lugging them around campus. ]

[ One hand holds a glass jar of cookies tied with a neat bow that (for once) unintentionally matches the one holding her hair back with a small white tag attached, neat calligraphic letters stating ‘To Miss Clarke’ and she raises her free hand to give two quiet taps on the ajar door, peering in through the crack calling out in greeting. ]

Knock knock Miss.

[ She honestly doesn’t know if she’s pulling this gig off right, but no one’s begged to leave her class and she hasn’t had to give anyone an F on anything yet, so she’s all in all counting the experience as a net positive. ]

[ She’s got her kids’ newest assignment spread on her desk all around her, papers strewn about while she sits right in the middle with long, lanky legs crossed in front of herself. Glancing from design plot to design plot, she simply observes, taking time to look at the details and try to match each plot to each student without looking at the names on the back. She’s done a pretty good job so far, and so have they. It’s kind of surprising... the little bits of fulfillment she’s found even in the most mundane “academic” assignments. ]

[ The knock on the door and the subsequent voice rouse her attention away, and she reaches out to try and gather and stack all the paper she can reach so she doesn’t knock it all to the floor as she scoots to the desk’s edge. ]

Hey there. Come in, come in. 

Not many people would Miss. There’s no one quite like Miss Quinn in our family. Have you heard of her band? …And I’m.. Well I’m not great. My head banging can be likened to that of one of the bobble-head figurines that you put on the dashboard of your car. So I’ll leave you with that mental image. 

Okay Miss, I’ll come visit you after classes if you’re still free. Do you have any allergies? 

I haven’t, but it’s possible I’ve seen them before if they played LA ever. You see so many bands out there it’s hard to keep them all straight though. I’m sure she’s good at it. But I have to admit, kiiiiinda wanna see you headbang now that it’s been brought up. I’ll remember that.