Raven forces herself into a sitting position and blinks steadily as her head spins. Oh, god. Beer, way too much beer. Still, the smell of bacon does a lot to better her mood, and she pulls her blanket towards her to make room for Clarke and her blanket on the couch. Bellamy, she's decided, can stay in the kitchen and do the cooking. Raven would probably just burn it anyway.

"I knew I liked you," she says, taking the piece and crunching it happily. There's still a level of adjustment required for this kind of relaxed domesticity - she keeps waiting for it all to be shattered, to wake up and be in Mount Weather under a drill. Still, if this is some crazy dream she's going to ride it out as long as it will let her, so she shakes the thought away.

"I didn't know you could cook, Blake," she calls back to the kitchen, finishing the rest of her bacon. "Hidden depths, this one," she mutters to Clarke conspiratorially.