Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Come back, come back, come back to me like
You could, you could if you just said you're sorry
I know that we could work it out somehow
But if this was a movie you'd be here by now

-Taylor Swift

//

Lexa Woods is standing in her own wedding with her hands around her wife, grinning so broadly that she can feel happy tears prickling behind her eyes. Some part of her, however, has to wonder if it’s the complete opposite, if she’s crying because there is no chance for her to be with her best friend anymore. Everything should be perfect, except for this gnawing feeling in her chest.

Everything should be perfect.

Only it isn’t. Because Lexa is married to someone whom she knows she loves, but she knows that her wife is not the only person residing in her heart. Lexa belongs to someone else and that someone is just sitting a few tables away from her.

Nothing is perfect.

She thinks back to the point when everything started falling apart.

//

8 YEARS PREVIOUSLY

Everything starts falling apart the day after Clarke’s eighteenth party. Last night’s party is a blur, mostly because Lexa spent the majority of it trying to make sure that Clarke was still alive and breathing and not drunk enough for Abby to kill the two of them. Raven and Octavia appeared too and laughed at the duo’s misfortune when they came to pick them up from the bar. Lexa remembers everything but not every detail. She remembers Clarke’s head falling against her shoulder, Clarke’s body heat mingling with her own, Clarke’s golden hair in her mouth, Clarke’s lips pressed against her own and Lexa’s mind is just full of Clarke, Clarke, Clarke that she’s pretty sure the entire universe can hear the repetition in her head.

They dropped Clarke off at the hospital around 1 AM. Lexa didn’t want to take any chances and Abby was on the night shift so when they saw each other in the emergency room, Raven and Octavia the only sober (ironic, Lexa thought) people there, Abby nearly popped a vein.

Lexa doesn’t want to think about the remainder of last night. After dropping Clarke off to be supervised by her mother, Lexa went home, got changed, crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling long enough she can still see the cracks of the tiles the morning after. She thought of Clarke’s blue eyes, of Clarke’s mouth pressed against her own, of Clarke’s hands running all over her neck, fingers memorizing her skin and fuck—Lexa covered her face with her hands, breathing hard as something closely akin to butterflies erupted in her stomach. She barely got enough sleep after those thoughts.

It’s the morning after and she still can’t believe she kissed her best friend. After having a quick breakfast and staring at her reflection for longer than necessary, she pulls on her favorite sweater and combat boots, tugs the tangles and messy knots from her hair and then finally says goodbye to her father, who is sitting by the dinner table, reading the paper. Her stomach is full of nerves and she can understand why. Last night was—she still doesn’t know what to think of it but every fiber of her being knows that it wasn’t a mistake.

She’s still suffering from a slight hangover but she only drank about two tequila shots. She’s okay but she knows that Clarke is feeling far worse. Lexa hopes that she’s not suffering too badly.

The Griffin house looks the same but the dread in Lexa’s stomach only intensifies when she steps through the front porch. Abby gave her a spare key a long time ago, since the place is empty most of the time. Especially after Jake died but Lexa doesn’t want to think about that. She wants to think of last night, of Clarke hovering above her, blue eyes bright and needy and restrained. She wants to think of Clarke’s mouth against hers, tasting of alcohol and first loves and second chances. She wants to think of Clarke’s smile after the kiss, stretching so far apart that it could reach her ears. But she can’t. She can’t—not without thinking that it might’ve been a drunken mistake on the blonde’s part.

Lexa presses her palms against her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She realized, last night, that she’s been in love with Clarke for thirteen years now and she cradles the fact deep in her chest, not forsaking it but making sure that it stays there for as long as necessary. The signs have been there and she’s never taken the time to think it through. And she has now. She just hopes that she’s not thirteen years too late.

She steps inside the house, watching for any signs of life. There is none. Abby is probably still asleep. Clarke must be upstairs, sporting her hangover. Jake is still gone. Lexa’s heart lurches at the unfortunate fact. She kicks off her shoes, places them neatly in the side and climbs the stairs, careful not to make any sudden noises. Her heart is beating loudly inside her chest and her palms are sweaty and her face feels awfully cold.

Clarke’s door is halfway open and she pushes it open, hesitating slightly.

“Clarke?” she calls out.

“Oh, thank God,” the blonde in question says, throwing the blankets off. She’s still wearing her birthday shirt but she’s changed out of her jeans and into comfortable sweatpants. Her hair is tied in a messy bun and she looks like crap, to say the least. Lexa’s breath still catches at the sight of her.

“You look horrible,” Lexa states, smiling when Clarke throws a pillow at her.

Clarke runs a hand across her face, groaning loudly. “I feel horrible,” she mumbles.

“Well, you did party hard last night,” Lexa points out, walking over and taking a seat on the bed. Clarke wraps the blankets around her shoulders, glaring mournfully at the brunette. Lexa is pleased to see that Romeo is peeking out from underneath the blonde’s arm.

“I don’t even want to know,” Clarke mutters.

“You did like, five body shots out of random people,” Lexa says, her grin widening.

“Lexa—”

“And you danced like nobody was watching—”

“Fucking hell, shut up—”

“I think you might’ve grinded on some poor guy’s ass—”

“Please tell me I didn’t make out with anybody,” Clarke exclaims, shaking her head as if the thought disgusts her.

Lexa falters. Takes a deep breath. Tries to ignore her heart shattering. She looks down at the ground before meeting Clarke’s expectant gaze once more.

“I don’t know,” she says, her tone neutral, “Did you?”

“Oh God.” Clarke throws her hands up in the air, sighing so loudly that her chest compresses. “Let’s pretend last night never happened. I’m sorry. God, I’ve never been so embarrassed of myself. I’m so glad Raven and Octavia weren’t there to take pictures of blackmail.”

Lexa feels suddenly very, very cold. She inhales sharply through her nose and tries to blink the impending tears in her eyes. Clarke has rejected her. She’s practically begging for her to forget that they kissed; implying that last night was nothing more than just a drunken mistake made on her eighteenth birthday. Lexa can hear her heart breaking inside her chest and it’s so loud that she’s pretty sure even Clarke can hear it.

(Clarke doesn’t.)

“So, did Finn text you or something?” Lexa asks, turning back to the blonde.

Clarke shrugs. Something flashes across her face and she grabs her phone from the bedside table, squinting at the brightness.

“Uh, yeah. He’s hoping that I feel better.”

“That’s good.”

“Did Costia say anything?” Clarke’s face is carefully blank but Lexa doesn’t notice because she’s too busy pulling her phone from her back pocket. There’s a message from her girlfriend (Lexa’s stomach churns with guilt) and it says: Hope you’re feeling awesome, babe! <3

Clarke smiles when she reads the message and Lexa pockets her phone before gesturing back at Clarke’s shirt, saying, “Are you not going to change?”

“But I like it.”

“It reeks of alcohol,” Lexa points out.

“What’s new?”

Lexa shakes her head, falling flat against the bed. Clarke follows afterwards and together, they stare at the ceiling, no words being exchanged between them and Lexa’s heart is still breaking because nothing has changed, even though everything already has. She searches the covers for Clarke’s hand and when she finds it, she intertwines their fingers together.

“Happy Birthday, Clarke Griffin,” she whispers, trying hard not to choke.

She senses Clarke’s smile rather than sees it and the blonde squeezes her hand before saying, “Thank you, Lexa Woods.” She laughs suddenly and Lexa gives her a puzzled smile. “Even though you are a shit chaperone.”

Lexa laughs too and her heart swells because if this is what it means to be in love Clarke Griffin, then she wouldn’t want it any other way.

//

A day before the Homecoming Dance, Octavia throws a beach party. She invites everybody in the grade and Clarke drags a reluctant Lexa to the same beach they visited on the blonde’s birthday, laughing when Lexa pulled a face and muttered something about the party interrupting her college applications. Finn and Costia will be coming too, but Clarke’s the one driving Lexa there and that should probably mean something but she decides not to think about it.

The one thing Clarke cannot absolutely stop thinking about is the scene in the ice cream shop, when she realized, after fourteen years of impeccable friendship, that she’s head over heels in love with her best friend. She can’t stop thinking about the green in Lexa’s eyes that always remind of her the forest, about the gleam in Lexa’s teeth whenever she smiles or grins, about the look Lexa always gets whenever she talks about Costia or whenever she finds Clarke slightly amusing and exasperating. She can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is, inside and out, and it’s saddening when the fact that she’s too late hits her straight in the chest.

She is too late. Lexa is in love with Costia, has voiced it out loud and clear once. Clarke can see it too, in the way Lexa always smiles when she gets a text from her girlfriend and in the way she always seems to light up when Costia walks into the room. She sees it and it breaks her heart.

They arrive at the beach ten minutes after the designated meeting time. The sun is already fading and she can spot a fire in the distance. Lexa groans out loud when the Civic stops and Clarke laughs, reaching out to unclasp the seatbelt.

“We’re here,” she says.

“I know,” Lexa mutters, hiding behind her shades, “I’m not blind, Clarke.”

“Well, I can see your girlfriend walking towards us so you should probably wipe that grumpy look off your face and pretend to look ecstatic,” Clarke points out, laughing when Lexa quickly pulls off her shades and scrambles out of the car. It breaks her heart a tiny crack but she continues to smile and shake her head, following after her best friend.

Costia is wearing another one of her famous floral dresses, hair twisted into intricate braids and a pink straw hat topped on her head. Lexa takes a moment to drink in her girlfriend and when Costia comes closer, a near blinding smile takes over her features. Clarke has to look away for several moments before she has the strength to look again.

Lexa has her arm wrapped around Costia’s middle, face pressed against the side of Costia’s head and they look so ridiculously happy that even though Clarke’s heart is breaking, she manages to smile.

“Hi, Clarke,” Costia calls out, waving her fingers.

Clarke waves back and then quickly moves over to where her friends are packed together. She can’t bear to look back so she focuses her attention on Octavia and Raven, who are now wrestling all over the sand and complaining about their nether regions. The beach is packed and Clarke spots many of her friends already passing cups of beer and enjoying themselves. Monty and Jasper have started a tug-of-war game in the middle of the shore. Wells is laughing about something Harper has said. Atom and Murphy are throwing cans into the fire they’ve so clearly set up. Even Bellamy is there, which isn’t surprising, because he’s always there to chaperone Octavia, even though his college is two states away. Clarke finally spots Finn watching with amusement as Raven picks herself up from the wrestling match, complaining of itches from where the sand has rubbed against her skin.

His face lights up when she approaches and he envelops her in an embrace so tight that he manages to swing her around a few times. She laughs and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“Glad you could make it,” he says, “I thought you might’ve ditched me to hang out with Lexa again.”

“That was one time,” Clarke complains. It wasn’t.

Finn rolls his eyes and kisses her on the forehead. He has always been incredibly sweet but right now, that sweetness makes Clarke feel like she’s almost choking. They’re both interrupted by Raven, who jumps onto Clarke’s back out of nowhere, laughing in glee when Clarke nearly stumbles.

“Fuck off, Reyes!” Clarke yells, but Raven tightens her hold and wraps her legs around Clarke’s middle.

“To the water, my steed!” Raven shouts and Clarke charges straight into the shore, nearly stumbling into Lincoln, who is sprawled on the sand, reading a book. She shouts an apology but it comes out muffled because Raven is still choking the life out of her. Her knees give out when they reach the water and Raven falls face-first into it. Clarke’s clothes are drenched within seconds and she glares at Raven when the girl resurfaces.

Raven just grins.

“What the hell was that for?” Clarke demands.

“You were looking like a kicked puppy so I had to lighten the mood,” Raven explains.

Clarke grabs a handful of sand and throws it at Raven, who ducks back into the water.

“I don’t look like a kicked puppy,” Clarke complains.

“Uh, you kind of do,” the other girl tells her, resurfacing again. She runs a hand through her hair, regarding the blonde quietly. “Did Finn do anything wrong? Because you can obviously tell me. Hoes before bros, right?”

“I thought it was the other way around.” Clarke huffs and then crawls deeper into the water until she’s halfway submerged. Raven stands and follows after her, the water clinging onto the two like blankets.

“So, did Finn do anything?”

“No.”

“O­-kay.”

“I’m serious. It’s not Finn. It’s not anything. I’m just overthinking, that’s all.”

“Is it Lexa?”

Clarke falls into silence and that’s an answer enough already. Raven swims over and wraps her arms and legs around the blonde, perching her chin against Clarke’s shoulder and pulling a kicked puppy look. Clarke rolls her eyes and tries to push her off but the other girl just tightens her hold. After a few minutes, Clarke gives out and lets Raven embrace her like a koala bear.

“You look cute when you’re sad,” Raven comments offhandedly.

“Reyes, you are not my type.”

“Well, now I’m just wasting my time.”

Clarke laughs, shoulders shaking as she pulls Raven even closer. “Whatever.”

Raven is silent for several seconds, until she says, “So, what is it about Lexa?”

Clarke doesn’t answer. She knows that if she tells Raven the truth, it’ll cause a strain between them. Because Raven loved Finn and Finn chose Clarke. To say that she’s in love with Lexa would only mean that she’s kind of cheating on Finn and she doesn’t think she can lose the two more people in her life because of a stupid confession. So she sighs, the gesture releasing some sorts of tension, before she turns back to Raven and forces a smile.

“Just a fight,” she says, her voice tight. Her tongue feels too heavy with the lie.

Raven doesn’t look like she believes her but instead of calling her out on her shit, she just shakes her head and says, “You two will get over it. You always do.”

 Clarke isn’t so sure.

//

Costia laughs when the ice cream Lexa bought unfortunately drops to the ground. The outraged look on Lexa’s face is immediately wiped off when Costia steps close and presses a fleeting kiss against her mouth, telling her that it’s okay and they’ll get another one. Lexa relaxes and throws the rest of the cone into the ground before grabbing at Costia’s waist and deepening the kiss.

Flashes of Clarke kissing her come into mind but she pushes them away and begs herself to forget because that’s what Clarke wants and she’d do anything for her best friend. She lets herself revel in the way Costia smiles against her mouth, lets herself enjoy the fact that she has a wonderfully beautiful girlfriend, who loves her as much as she does. She pulls away when Murphy catcalls at them.

“Fuck off, Jonathan!” Costia calls out, flipping the finger and Murphy scurries away.

Lexa smiles. “I am greatly reminded of why I fell in love with you in the first place,” she says.

Costia beams, a small shy smile taking over her features. She stands on her tip-toes and kisses Lexa one last time before she drags her over the fire. Lexa spots Lincoln and Octavia’s older brother, Bellamy, chatting idly with each other. Octavia has sneaked up on Jasper and is currently in the process of jumping into his back, shrieking with laughter and joy while Jasper tries and fails to throw her off.

Lexa searches the beach for a certain blonde but doesn’t find her. She squashes down the worry in her chest and turns back to Costia, who accepts a red solo cup from a passing Wells and drinks from it heartily.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Lexa asks, leaning close and bumping noses with her girlfriend.

“Of course,” Costia says, still grinning, “I can’t wait to see you in a dress.”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

Costia throws her head back and laughs. “I can’t believe nobody realizes how much of a sap you are.”

Lexa’s smile dims slightly. One person does know (she knows every part of Lexa Woods, even the bad ones) but she’s not going to say her name. If she says her name, then she’ll remember that night. It’s almost pitiful, how she can never seem to forget and how, even in her dreams, she still clings into it. She exhales through her nose and stares at the fire for a few seconds before she turns back to Costia.

“Only you know,” she says softly.

Costia nods and then lies down on Lexa’s lap, facing the fire and the sky. Lexa adjusts their position until they’re comfortable and she’s perched on a large, smooth rock behind her. Running her fingers through Costia’s hair, they remain in that position for a long period of time.

Lexa watches the surrounding, the peaceful serenity relaxing her. The sun has long gone from the skies, the stars have started to appear in numbers, the rest of the school is still gloriously young and Lexa has spotted Clarke emerging from the water, clothes drenched to her skin, her bra visible through the thin fabric, hair plastered against her cheeks and eyes as bright as the night sky above her.

Lexa inhales sharply, which stirs Costia from her reverie.

“You okay?” Costia asks.

“Yeah.” Lexa continues to run her fingers through Costia’s hair. “It’s just cold.”

Costia closes her eyes again and falls into a deep nap. Lexa watches her face for several long seconds before somebody plops down next to her and she turns to see that it’s Lincoln. He’s bare-chested, wearing only surfer shorts and flip flops, so his tattoos are in full display for the world to see. Lexa coolly raises her eyebrows at him when he grins cheekily.

“You guys are disgustingly adorable,” he says quietly, so that Costia won’t wake.

“And you are disgustingly nude,” Lexa says in return.

Lincoln rolls his eyes before leaning in to say, “Octavia digs it.”

When Lexa looks over her shoulder, she sees Octavia hanging out with Raven and Clarke but her eyes are glued to where Lincoln is sitting. There is both lust and hunger in her gaze and it makes Lexa uncomfortable just by looking at it. So she looks back at her friend, who has a broad smirk written all over his face.

“You are both so gross.” Lexa makes a face when Lincoln just laughs.

“We are relationship goals,” he insists. He pulls his phone out from the pocket of his shorts and snaps a quick picture, with Lexa completely unaware. He laughs even harder when she tries to reach for his mobile without waking Costia up.

Lincoln’s fingers quickly move against the keypad before showing Lexa his Instagram post. He is grinning, eyes alight with mischief while Lexa continues to look down at Costia, who is still fast asleep. Some part of Lexa’s heart swells at the sight of her looking so unguarded.

@LincolnGrounderPounder: together with the love birds <3 @lexawoods @flowergirlCos

It’s barely even seconds later before his phone buzzes and two comments pop up:

@thebetterblake: i ship it!!!!!!!!!!!

@partyanimalGriffin: thats a lot of exclaimation points O @thebetterblake

Against her better judgment, Lexa glances over at where Octavia and Clarke are huddled together, their phones in hand. Clarke looks up at the exact moment and their gazes meet. The blonde offers a small smile, one that Lexa tightly returns. Her heart still breaks at the sight of her best friend and she hates herself for feeling like this, for caring so much even though Clarke obviously doesn’t.

Lincoln pries his phone from her hands. “Anyway, I have to go,” he tells her. He nods at Costia. “Don’t do the dirty here. Sand gets everywhere.”

“And you know this how?” Lexa asks, raising her eyebrows.

Lincoln winks. “Let’s just say my sex life rivals a rabbit’s right now,” he murmurs and Lexa doesn’t really need that image stuck in her head so she impatiently shoos him away. He runs off, howling with laughter and Lexa stares at his retreating figure before fixing her eyes back on Costia.

“He’s wrong,” Costia suddenly says, still feigning sleep.

Lexa smiles. “About what?”

“They’re not relationship goals,” Costia mutters, wrapping an arm around Lexa’s waist and pulling her close. “We’re relationship goals.”

Lexa should be ridiculously happy at the admission of those said words but all she feels is a gaping hole in her chest and all she can think about is Clarke Griffin’s stupid, idiotic smile after they kissed in that stupid, idiotic bar. She wants nothing more than for that night to be erased in her memories but she also knows that she doesn’t want it to go away. It was her only chance and even though she blew it, she still wants it to stay.

(Even though it will always hurt.)

//

Clarke’s staring at the picture Lincoln recently just posted and debating whether or not she should put another comment when Octavia slaps her phone away and yells, “SKINNY DIPPING!” Clarke glares at her retreating figure and then shoves her phone back into her bag, climbing up to her feet and following after the rest of the teenagers already stripping off.

The night sky is full of twinkling stars tonight and Clarke can see the reflection of the moon shining on the water surface. She spots Jasper eagerly throwing his shorts away before running into the shore at full speed, Monty laughing and chasing after him. Octavia has dragged Lincoln with her, while a disapproving Bellamy watches by. Raven is in the middle of taking her bikini off when Wick sweeps her bridal style and jumps into the waves.

Finn pops in next to Clarke, wearing a lazy smirk on his face.

“After you?” he asks.

“I’d rather not,” Clarke says, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers together. His face lights up and she stands on her tip-toes and kisses him.

Lexa is watching, she thinks to herself as his mouth moves above hers. She clutches at his shoulders and tries not to think about her best friend in ways that are probably not suitable in this moment. She has a boyfriend, for God’s sake and Lexa has a girlfriend and they’re best friends and they’re not meant to be for each other. It’s the thought that forces her to kiss Finn even harder, that lets her hands roam his chest, that makes her forget that she is so madly in love with her best friend.

Finn pulls away with a loud smack and Clarke makes the mistake of glancing over at Lexa, who is definitely watching them. Her eyes are steely grey in the fire next to them and her jaw is clenched and she looks as if she could murder someone right there and then. Clarke’s guts twist uncomfortably and she swallows before looking back at Finn.

You should love Finn the way you love Lexa, a voice in her head tells her and she bites her lip so hard she can taste blood. Her chest feels bloated somehow and she wills herself to forget the scene at her birthday ever happened. Because as much as she knows that she’s in love with Lexa, she’s not going to risk their friendship. It is far too important, far too precious.

“Want to go somewhere?” Finn asks.

(They end up having sex in the back of Finn’s truck and Clarke wants nothing more than to wash the scent off her guilt in a cold shower.)

//

The night ends and everybody goes home with sand stuck in their ears and their clothes dripping wet. Lexa kisses Costia goodbye as she heads home with Lincoln and Wells, since they live in the same area. Then she waits by the fire for Clarke, since she’s her ride home. She sends her a quick text and lets the minutes pass.

After ten minutes of staring at the constellations in the sky and trying to remember where Sirius is, Lexa finally spots Clarke walking towards her, hands shoved to the pockets of her shorts with her jacket tightly bunched around her frame. Lexa frowns, because she’s never seen the blonde looking so distressed.

“Hey,” Lexa says, pocketing her phone.

Clarke glances up. She looks misty-eyed. “Hi,” she croaks.

“You okay?”

She nods but changes her mind halfway through because she wipes at her eyes and lets out a ragged breath. “I don’t know,” she finally says. She doesn’t offer anything else and Lexa doesn’t mind. She’s never known how to push Clarke, because she knows that if she does, Clarke will simply explode. So she takes her hand and together, they walk towards the beach, where Wells has so kindly cleaned up the beer bottles and solo cups.

Clarke stops them directly in front of the shore, toes nearly touching the water. Lexa drops her hand and runs her fingers through her hair, admiring the moonlight illuminating the surface of the ocean. The stars are out in their full brilliance and Lexa takes precautious moments to admire every single one of them. She’s waiting for Clarke to make the first move, though, and with every second passing by, she worries that her best friend might not say anything,

A minute passes and finally—

“Will you go to the dance with me?” Clarke asks, keeping her gaze on the water.

Lexa whips her head to look at the blonde. She can feel her eyebrows knitting together, a crease appearing between them. She doesn’t say anything because her throat has suddenly gotten too tight. Thinking about that night in the bar has made her feel suddenly very, very cold.

“We could go as friends,” Clarke says, her voice sheepish and weak. She’s not looking at Lexa and Lexa has to wonder if she’s afraid. The word friends stabs a hole in her chest and she has to bite back a laugh because what kind of friend is she? For kissing a drunken Clarke on her birthday?

“Clarke,” she says, her tone cautious.

“I know that this is rushed and all,” Clarke continues and Lexa notices the clenching and unclenching of her hands, “but are you considering it?”

“I’m going with Costia,” Lexa says, the corners of her mouth growing heavy with every word. Her shoulders tense and she closes her eyes briefly. “You’re going with Finn. There’s no need to complicate things.”

When Lexa turns to look at her, there is pain and rejection written all over the blonde’s features. She looks as if she’s been punched in the gut and Lexa has to restrain herself from reaching over and holding her hand. Because she’s right. They’re complicated and messy; fourteen years of friendship filled with laughter, tears and grief and Lexa loves Costia and Clarke loves Finn and it doesn’t matter if Lexa is also in love with her best friend.  It just doesn’t matter.

“You’re right,” Clarke says softly, “There’s no need to complicate things.”

It’s a lie and they both know it.

//

There’s a knock on the door and her mother stops fussing long enough for Clarke to squeeze away the group of ladies to open it. Lexa stands on the other side, looking absolutely stunning in her white dress, while she holds a bunch of cosmetics in her hand. She doesn’t have any make-up on and she looks sheepish as she regards Clarke carefully.

(Clarke forgets to breathe for a few seconds before she finally snaps out of it.)

“I need help,” Lexa mutters.

“I’m sorry?” Clarke says, grinning broadly, “I can’t hear you. You need to speak louder.”

Lexa rolls her eyes before repeating, “I need help. With my make-up. My dad is amazing at times but he has no talent in the cosmetics area.” She shrugs when Clarke laughs.

“Okay, since you asked so nicely.” Clarke opens the door wider and Lexa ducks inside.

The living room is an absolute mess. Clarke’s invited most of her gal friends to ready at her place, which proves to be a disaster. Raven is in the middle of curling her hair while shouting profanities into her phone. Clarke’s mom is helping Octavia into her dress and they’re both complaining that the zipper is stuck. Monroe is currently on all fours looking for her heels and Harper is hastily applying make-up on. The only calm person in the room seems to be Maya, because she’s already prepared and talking on the phone with Jasper, a lazy smile on her lips.

“You’re not dressed yet,” Lexa points out.

Clarke shrugs. “I was too busy doing my hair,” she says, gesturing at her head. “Took me four hours but I finally got the curls right.”

“You look beautiful,” Lexa says, glancing shyly at her, “even though you’re still wearing sweatpants.”

Clarke laughs and shakes her head before grabbing blindly at Lexa’s hand and dragging her upstairs. Lexa nearly stumbles once or twice on her heels but Clarke is always there to keep her upright. They slam the door shut on Clarke’s room and Lexa quickly moves to the vanity table, checking her hair and frowning at the lack of make-up.

“You look gorgeous,” Clarke tells her, ignoring the rapid beating of her heart.

Lexa throws her a small smile. “Thank you,” she says, “but I’m expecting to be blown off my feet once I see Costia.”

“I think it’s going to be the other way around.”

“Again, thank you.”

Clarke walks over towards her and picks up some foundation. Her fingers are slightly shaking, she realizes and she waits for them to still. Then she tells Lexa to sit down and the other girl obliges.

Clarke’s fingers move steadily against Lexa’s cheeks and she fills in the silence with small talk.

“How’s Stanford?” she asks.

“Still waiting for the letter,” Lexa answers shortly. She watches Clarke under hooded lids and it makes Clarke’s skin itch. “What about you? Have you been accepted?”

Clarke’s mouth suddenly goes dry and she averts Lexa’s persistent gaze. Truth be told, she hasn’t been thinking about college too much, especially with Finn insisting that they don’t need to spend countless tuition money for it. Her mom’s already working most of the night shifts and Stanford is located in California, which is a long way from home. She can’t bear to leave this place, where her memories of her father linger in every crook and corner. Besides, Finn has been whispering about moving in together, getting married, having an easy job—no college, no money, no stress. Just the two of them against the world. It’s a fair offer and she’s been thinking about it for weeks now.

“Not yet,” she lies, shrugging. Her application letters are lying underneath the bottom part of her closet, tucked away, forgotten and unsent. She wonders if Lexa will hate her, if she ever knew the truth.

Lexa doesn’t look she believes her but she doesn’t say anything about it. That’s what Clarke loves and hates about her, truthfully. Because they can go on weeks fighting without saying anything but they can also spend precious moments drinking in silence instead of useless chatter. Clarke has never known how to shut her mouth, so she’s grateful to Lexa for always doing so.

“Anyway,” Clarke says, not so subtly changing the subject. She finishes with the foundation and gestures at Lexa to close her eyes, since eyeliner is next. “Where’s Costia headed off to, after graduation?”

“Wellington, New Zealand,” Lexa answers, voice awfully small.

Clarke holds off putting the eyeliner on, frowning as she regards the sadness in Lexa’s frown.

“Can you handle long distance?” she asks.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t,” Lexa says, eyes still closed, “which is why I’m deciding to break it off with her, after graduation.”

Clarke’s hand stop moving and she leans back with a crease between her eyebrows. Lexa pops one eye open and sighs when she sees the disapproving look Clarke has written all over her face.

“I know that it sounds harsh and not to mention, abrupt and cold but—”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Clarke says indignantly, shaking her head in disgust when Lexa clamps her mouth shut. “Costia’s obviously, freaking in love with you and you’re just going to break her heart? Like that?”

“I cannot afford to get distracted in my studies,” Lexa states, her gaze steely as she glares at Clarke.

“Costia is not a distraction,” Clarke tells her.

“She’ll call at random times; when I’m sleeping, when I’m studying, when I’m in class and there’s no guarantee for me that I might actually return her calls. Breaking it off—while we’re still facing each other—it’s the best thing for everyone.” Lexa takes a deep breath and Clarke notices, for the first time, that her eyes are shining. “Besides, first loves do not last.”

Clarke feels as if she’s been punched in the gut. She places her hands on the vanity table, looks at her reflection in the mirror and tries to ignore the way she can see her heart shattering all over her features.

“Am I a distraction?” Clarke asks, her voice impossibly soft.

Lexa takes too long to answer. “Clarke,” she says, sounding pained.  She doesn’t look at her. Instead, she spends several seconds twisting her fingers together until she finally adds, “Yes.”

Clarke feels very cold all of a sudden. She takes a deep breath, shakes her head and then turns to Lexa again, this time holding up the eyeliner. Lexa looks confused but when Clarke tells her to close her eyes, she obeys.

Clarke finishes applying Lexa’s make-up on and when Lexa leaves to pick up Costia for the dance, she places her hand on Clarke’s wrist and whispers, “Thank you.”

(Clarke’s skin burns from where Lexa has touched her.)

//

Lexa cannot find it in herself to enjoy the night. Mostly it’s because Clarke has thrown a huge curveball at her, punching her right in the gut and making her lose focus. And she tries. God, she tries to pay attention to Costia, who is as radiant as ever—peach-colored dress, high heels, flowers in her hair, eyes bright and so beautiful—but she can’t. Clarke’s face haunts her, even in the dazzling lights and pounding music. She remembers the look on her best friend’s face, hurt and angry, distressed and sorrowful. Am I distraction? She had asked. Lexa wasn’t lying. Clarke is a distraction. She always has been, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.

Costia tugs at her hand suddenly and Lexa looks up, eyebrows raised.

“You okay?” Costia asks, frowning.

Lexa’s throat tightens. “I’m fine,” she answers.

“You can talk to me, Lex,” Costia insists, pressing close and staring at Lexa for several long seconds. They’re standing in a far corner, away from the dancing crowd, flashing lights and trembling speakers. Lexa spots Clarke dancing with Finn over Costia’s shoulder and the weight in her chest increases.

I have to tell her, she realizes, meeting Costia’s gaze again, I have to tell her now.

“Do you want to go outside?” Lexa questions, straightening her shoulders and keeping her head held high.

Costia licks her lips, looking worried. Lexa wonders if she knows what’s coming. But she supposes that she can explain all the necessities later. Already, she’s looking at this as something to be checked off her list, an objective to be cleared off and she finally understands why people always call her heartless. They're not wrong. She takes Costia's hand, relishes the warmth she feels and then drags her outside the gym, towards the football fields where everything is wide and spacious and the stars are out in their full brilliance and nobody can hear the shattering of her heart when she finally breaks this off. 

Costia's shoulders are bare so Lexa pulls out her favorite sweater and drapes it across her neck. Costia looks at her gratefully, tugging at the fabric. 

"The sky is beautiful, don't you think?" Lexa says in lieu of an introduction and Costia glances at the stars, breathing unsteadily. They stand there for a few minutes, soaking in the cold, night air and the silence between them. Lexa takes this time to figure out what she's going to say, if she's able to say anything at all. I'm breaking up with you doesn't seem to be a good start. It's not you, it's me sounds an awful like all the cliches she and Clarke watched as kids. I love you but I'm also in love with my best friend. That one sticks to her head and her heart quickens its pace when she actually considers saying that out loud. 

She can't say it out loud. If she does, then it'll be far too real. And it's not real. It doesn't matter. Clarke Griffin doesn't matter to her when it comes to the romantic affairs of the heart.

"I know what you're going to say," Costia blurts out suddenly, while Lexa is still in the middle of processing her thoughts. 

"You do?" Lexa asks, jerking when Costia shakes her head and lets out another ragged sigh. 

"I'm lying," she mumbles, "I don't know what you're going to say and it scares the hell out of me." 

Lexa allows herself to smile. "You were always so outspoken," she says fondly. Then she winces. She probably shouldn't have said that.

"Now you're scaring the fuck out of me." Costia tightens her jaw and burns a hole against the side of Lexa's head. Lexa can't bear to look at her. 

"Costia..." 

"You're breaking up with me." 

Lexa doesn't answer, which is an answer itself. Costia inhales sharply then let out a cold, humorless laugh. She tightens the sweater around her shoulders and shifts her weight, moving away from Lexa within a few inches. And it breaks Lexa's heart, because it's barely been a minute and they're already so far apart. She pulls her lips into a straight line, runs her fingers through her hair and take another calming breath. 

"You're going to New Zealand," Lexa reminds her, "I'm moving to California. It's just too far apart." 

"Bullshit," Costia says, detached but almost, almost angry. "We've been together for a year, three if you count the time we spent tiptoeing around each other." 

Three years does not compare to fourteen, Lexa thinks to herself and she nearly laughs at the absurdity of the situation. Here she is, breaking up with her girlfriend and the only person she can think about is Clarke Griffin. She must've fallen pretty badly for her to get to this stage. 

"I can't handle a long distance relationship," Lexa manages to say, the words shaky against her tongue.

Costia's eyes search her face. She must've found something, because she steps back and shakes her head, mouth turned up in a cruel smile. "You're lying," she states blankly, "and I've known you long enough for me to spot the difference from when you're trying to convince someone or when you're trying to convince yourself."

Lexa crosses her arms; a defense mechanism she uses to soften the blow of whatever words someone is going to say to her face. She's used this mechanism plenty of times against Clarke's harsh, biting words and she's never thought to use it against Costia. Costia, who is always sweet and understanding, outspoken but gentle, caring and loving. Now she just seems desperately angry. 

"What are you talking about?" Lexa asks. 

"You're not breaking up with me because of some half-assed reason about distance," Costia says, her tone steely hard, "This is about something else." 

"I can assure you, that's not the case." 

"This is about Clarke." 

Lexa's mouth clamps shut and her eyes widen a fraction and no, no, no, please don't say it out loud. Her spine has gone rigid, her fingers have started shaking and there's a cold, heavy weight pressed against her chest and she knows that if Costia says it out loud, then it will make it real. It will be real and she won't be able to do anything but accept it. It might have always been a fact but Lexa's never the type of person to accept things that she is not positively sure of.

And she's still not sure she loves Clarke Griffin or not. As a friend or something more. 

"You're in love with her," Costia says, her voice dangerously low and Lexa shuts her eyes as the weight of those words finally start a flame in her chest, a flame which she has long thought died out. She is in love with Clarke. Completely, erratically, impossibly in love with Clarke Griffin. And it's real and it matters but she doesn't have a say in it anymore, because Clarke has Finn and now Lexa has no one. She looks down at her feet, shuffles them before forcing her eyes back up again. 

"I'm sorry, Costia," Lexa says, her voice tight with regret. 

"So it's true." 

"Yes."

Costia nods, accepting this. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears and Lexa turns to her, lips tucked in a small, sad smile. 

"At least we didn't fall out of love," Costia mutters. 

"I do love you," Lexa says, in hopes of making it all worth it. She cannot just shatter the heart of the one person she's been intertwined with for the past three years. They meant something, even though they just don't mean everything right now. "I am in love with you. I just—"

"You love her more." 

Lexa grows quiet. Then, she adds, "It took me fourteen years to realize it and I don't want to waste another second." 

Costia pales slightly. "Fourteen years?" she asks. 

"I've been in love with her for as long as we've been friends, from the moment she stumbled into my life," Lexa answers, tears stinging the back of her eyes, "I really am sorry, Costia." 

Costia surprises her. She always has, so it seems only fitting that their last time together will be the same thing. She flings her arms around Lexa's neck and Lexa is quick to wrap hers around Costia's waist. She takes in a deep, shuddering breath as Costia buries her face against her neck. They're both crying, she realizes and her tears fall against the flowers on her (ex) girlfriend's hair. 

Costia pulls away and places a soft, chaste kiss against her lips. Lexa kisses her back, because they're moving to different sides of the world, Costia's heart is breaking and Lexa is in love with someone else. It's possibly one of the saddest love stories in history—where people are honestly, ridiculously perfect for each other and they're ripped apart by the word almost. 

(Not for the first time, Lexa wishes she wasn't in love with Clarke Griffin.)

//

Finn drags her away from the dance floor and into the parking lot outside the gym. They are both drunk, since Jasper and Monty decided to spike the punch with too much alcohol. And they're both laughing with adrenaline and exhaustion, high with giddiness and how young the night is. Somewhere along the way, Clarke has lost the corsage Finn gave her and Finn's tie is nowhere to be seen. They pay no attention to it, however, because Clarke is too busy kissing the hell out of her boyfriend.

"Hold up, hold up." Finn pulls away, grabbing Clarke's hand and pulling her towards his truck. 

Clarke makes a small noise. She's drunk and horny and her boyfriend is grinning at her with this mischievous glint in his eyes. She grabs his cheeks, tries to pull him close again but he shakes his head and presses his body against hers, pinning her to the truck behind her back. 

"Finn," Clarke whines. 

"Clarke," Finn mutters. Clarke twitches. The way he says her name—it's different with the way Lexa says hers. Finn says it with reverence, with adoration, with love and Lexa says it with just the right amount of fondness, exasperation and genuine awe. Clarke has found herself comparing the two for quite a while now, finding missing spaces in Finn where Lexa easily fits in, realizing that Finn doesn't know this story or that experience, discovering that maybe she's been wrong all these time. 

It doesn't matter, she tells herself when Finn takes a step back and looks at her for several seconds, Lexa doesn't love you that way. 

"I have to show you something," he says, smiling widely. 

Clarke doesn't say anything. Thinking about Lexa has sobered her and she watches with detached interest as Finn pulls out something from the inside pockets of his suit and goes down on one knee. The sight is enough to rock her and she stands there, her jaw dropping, while Finn looks up, his smile reaching his cheeks, as he shows her a ring he clearly made himself. It's made of scrap metal but there's a figure of a Griffin's head topped in the middle and it's beautiful and creative and holy shit, he's proposing to her. They're eighteen years old and he's proposing to her. 

"I know it's not the real thing," he says. Clarke's mouth continues to close and open. "But I love you, Clarke Griffin and I want you to stay with me for the rest of my life." 

"Finn—" Clarke manages to choke out. Her eyes are still fixed on the ring. "We're too young."

"I don't care," Finn interjects, "I love you and you love me and what's the point in waiting? We can get married after graduation and I can find a job and you can work at that tattoo shop I told you about. We don't have to go to college. We don't have to waste money on something we don't want. We can stay together." 

And this—this is what every girl wants. For a boy to love her unconditionally, without any setbacks, without any distractions. For a boy to lay waste to the future because he loves you and that's all that matters. For a boy to ask you to marry him on the night of the Homecoming Dance, where the night is still young and beautiful. Clarke should be happy. She should be so ridiculously and utterly happy. She's been chasing after Finn since they were ten years old and it's perfect, because even though they've been only together for a year, they've loved each other far longer than that. 

But Clarke thinks of Lexa and she wants to say no. 

"Finn," she mumbles, trying to find the words. 

"Marry me, Clarke," Finn says, still smiling, "and make me the happiest man on earth." 

Clarke thinks about it. She thinks, and she realizes, and she grows sad. Because Finn loves her and she loves him too. But she's in love with Lexa and Lexa is in love with someone else, even though she's going to break up with Costia after graduation. Besides, Lexa believes her to be a distraction. She has to face it. She and Lexa are not meant to be together. They're messy and complicated and it's fourteen years of friendship and just that. 

Besides, Lexa wants her to go to Stanford and her mom wants her to go to Med school. But the thought of returning to the hospital, where her father was supposed to go, before his untimely death—it makes her want to vomit. And it makes her cold and it makes her wish her dad was still alive, because she knows that he would've supported her in any way possible. She thinks about a job in a tattoo parlor and it doesn't seem so bad. She thinks about a life as Mrs. Collins and there are certainly worse ways in which she could end up as. But the more she thinks about it, the more she thinks of Lexa.

Can she really do this? Can she marry Finn and forget about the fact that she’s spent the past fourteen years being in love with Lexa Woods, without even realizing it?  Can she just erase all of these unrequited feelings and move on? There’s nothing to move on from, however, because they were never together in the first place.

That’s the thought that drives her to fling her arms around Finn and say, “Yes.”

She doesn’t think about Lexa—she can’t bear to, especially when she feels as if she’s just slammed the last nail into her own coffin.

//         

It takes Lexa a week to bring it up and Clarke doesn’t handle it too well.

They’re doing homework in the Griffin’s living room and Lexa has her pen between her teeth, alternating between chewing the top of it and actually using it to write equations on the margins of her notes. Clarke, however, is a different story. She’s spent most of her time on her phone instead of the book in front of her, a nervous energy radiating from every inch of her skin. Lexa has spent the past few minutes trying to gather the courage to ask her what’s wrong but she hasn’t. Instead, she chewed her lip and held back her words.

She’s been trying to bring up Costia for the past week or so but Clarke has either been too busy with Finn or just plain uninterested during their time together. Lexa has noticed the metal ring around her finger but has never thought of it as being important, pushing it off as a promise ring of some sorts. She can’t ignore the way her heart stutters every time she catches Clarke staring at it in wonder, however.

She and Finn have been inseparable these past few days and it’s almost hilarious, how Lexa breaks up with her girlfriend only to have the person she’s in love with sink her hands in deeper with her boyfriend. Completely pathetic. Lexa wishes that she could undo some things in the past.

It’s not like Clarke returns her feelings or whatsoever.

(Lexa even feels stupid just by hoping for it.)

Lexa’s already on her fifth problem when she glances over and realizes that Clarke hasn’t even finished the first one. The blonde in question is still staring at her phone with a mixture of concentration and annoyance and Lexa finds it utterly endearing and worrisome.

“Clarke,” she calls out, clearing her throat when Clarke doesn’t move. She tries again, more assertive, “Clarke.”

Clarke doesn’t answer. Lexa sighs and reaches over to pinch her best friend’s cheek. This time, the blonde does move, turning around and scowling at the brunette. Lexa raises her eyebrow before she gestures at Clarke’s unfinished Algebra homework.

“You haven’t even completed a single problem yet,” she says.

Clarke rolls her eyes dramatically before putting her phone down. The screen is still on and Lexa feels a flush of pleasure seeing that the background is still of her and Clarke. Even Finn can’t take away their fourteen year old bond.

“You know I hate Math,” Clarke comments offhandedly.

“I do know.”

“I like Physics.”

“Clarke, I know.”

They fall into another comfortable silence. Lexa looks away from Clarke’s phone and starts on her sixth problem.

“Am I still a distraction?” Clarke suddenly asks out of nowhere, keeping her focus locked on the text in front of her while idly rolling her pen between her fingers. Lexa’s gaze snap towards her, her mouth gently falling open and Clarke licks her lips before finally meeting her eyes.

“I—” When Lexa answered that question a week ago; she had regretted it the instant the word came out of her mouth. But she can’t take it back. Taking it back now would mean admitting that she was wrong, and she’s not, because Clarke is a distraction—she is. She makes Lexa’s head spin, makes Lexa’s heart stutter, makes Lexa’s breath catch in her throat. She haunts Lexa’s dreams every night, painfully and achingly reminding her of that once-in-a-lifetime kiss they had shared. And everywhere Lexa lets her eyes fall on her best friend, she is hit with a wave of nostalgia, because she knows everything about her, every inch of Clarke Griffin has a story linked with Lexa Woods and if that’s not distracting enough, she doesn’t know what is.

Clarke doesn’t look away. Neither does Lexa.

This moment seems entirely too precious somehow and Lexa takes a deep, calming breath before she says, “I broke up with Costia during the dance.”

Clarke obviously didn’t expect that. She blinks once and then twice before leaning back and staring at Lexa with part wonder, part shock and Lexa forces the thought of Costia saying, “You’re in love with her” from her head before she adds, “She was very…hurt by the abruptness of it all.”

“Lexa, what the fuck?” Clarke finally mutters, and she almost makes Lexa laugh, if it wasn’t for the fact that Lexa suddenly feels as if she’s messed up really badly. She puts down her pen, runs a hand through her curly hair and then looks back at Clarke again. Every part of her body is tense, and she wants to run, wants to walk away from the look of shock on Clarke's face, wants to bury her face into her hands and never have to face these damning feelings. She wants to forget but she knows she can't. She broke up with Costia for this, for a chance to start anew, for her to try.

Clarke still hasn’t moved from her position. Her blue eyes are wide and anxious and she's chewing on her lower lip.

“I thought you said you’d break up with her after graduation,” Clarke quietly says.

“It seemed like the right time,” Lexa admits.

“Bullshit,” Clarke seethes, looking very angry, “What the hell happened? What made you change your mind? Why did you do it on the night where the two of you were supposed to be happy?”

“Too many questions,” Lexa mutters, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She lets out a sharp inhale and finally says, “I had to do it. It would’ve been worse if I had done it at graduation, with the adrenaline and high of it. I wouldn’t have wanted to sour her entire day.”

“But you would’ve had time,” Clarke insists and her anger quietly morphs into sadness, “You would’ve been together.”

Lexa swallows painfully. Not a single day has gone by without her thinking about Costia’s well-being. The day after the dance, Costia had walked up to her house and promptly dropped off her things. Lexa had done the same thing after a few hours, never talking to each other except for the necessary, "Is that all?" Lexa had then said her formalities to Costia's parents and wished them the best of luck. She didn't even look at Costia when she left.

“First loves don’t last, Clarke,” Lexa says by explanation.

“You need to stop thinking like that,” Clarke scolds, rolling her eyes. Her phone suddenly starts vibrating but she doesn’t pick it up. She is solely focused on Lexa now, her gaze heavy with disapproval and barely concealed disgust. Lexa feels her heart rapidly picking up its pace and she has to force herself not to look away.

“Look, it was for the best,” Lexa mumbles, “It meant something to me but now it’s over, so can we please just let it go?”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Well, maybe it’s because you’ve been on your phone for the past hours and with Finn for the past days.” Lexa’s jaw tightens and she clenches her hands into fists as the words stumble out of her mouth; “I barely get to see you now. Which isn’t right, because I’ve been your best friend for fourteen years and I think I deserve a little bit of scoop in your life.”

Clarke reels back, almost as if she’s been slapped. The back of Lexa’s eyes sting and she’s suddenly very aware of how her entire body seems to be shaking, either with anger or with uncertainty. She’s never liked situations where she isn’t in control and now she feels as if she’s just tipped the whole scale with her semi-confession.

“You really feel that way?” Clarke asks, after a moment. Her eyes are wet.

Lexa licks her lips. Then nods.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke amends, frowning when Lexa doesn’t look at her, “I guess, I’ve been really busy with Finn. Especially with college applications coming up. I’m just trying to make everything last.”

Lexa grinds her teeth so hard she’s surprised they don’t break. Clarke sighs quietly and after a few minutes of insufferable silence, reaches over to take Lexa’s hand. Lexa looks up at her, only to find the blonde staring at the surface of the table with the saddest expression on her face.

Lexa wants nothing more than to reach out and kiss her, make that look fade away, make Clarke Griffin the happiest person in the planet just with a brush of their lips and the confession of three words. But she doesn’t. Because Clarke has Finn and Lexa used to have Costia, but now she has nothing except for a heart full of yearning and feelings she can’t put into words. So, she drops Clarke’s hand and says, very quietly,

“Be happy, Clarke.”

She doesn’t add even if it’s without me but she suspects that Clarke hears it anyway.

//

Clarke tries. She tries to make everything last. But she’s been hiding her ring whenever she’s with Lexa, and she doesn’t mention wanting to go to California when she’s together with Finn. She doesn’t tell her mom about getting married and she doesn’t tell her friends that she’s not going to college. It’s like she’s leading a double life or something but truthfully, she is happy. She’s happy when Finn takes her out to dinner and to the movies. She’s happy when Lexa pops over at her house for homework or simply just to catch up. She’s happy when her mom wakes up to make breakfast. She’s happy when Raven and Octavia make her laugh so hard she collapses.

She’s happy and she clings onto that feeling with a vice grip, because she knows that it won’t last. Sooner or later, her mom will find out about the ring, Lexa will move away to California, Raven and Octavia will start to pack up their things for New York and she’ll be left alone in this small town with nothing except for a job at a tattoo shop and a husband who loves her unconditionally.

The worst part about all of this is that she can’t tell Lexa. She can never tell Lexa. It’ll break her heart. Worse, it might make her hate Clarke too. There are many things Clarke can handle but having Lexa hate for the rest of her life—she just can’t stand that. She can barely handle a few weeks without talking to her but a lifetime? It seems like a prison sentence. The final nail to her coffin. No. Lexa can never know.

But then Clarke finds out about Costia and she feels as if the universe has somehow conspired to make her completely miserable.

She’s lying in her room with her face turned to the ceiling, every part of her body screaming in agony as the realization that Lexa is finally single—finally hers for the taking—quickly settle into her mind. But she has Finn’s ring around her finger and she has his promise that they’d stay together forever. And it’s horrible, because she loves him, she really does—but he suffocates her sometimes and she really, really needs to breathe.

She wipes away at the wet corners of her eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath. She twists her ring around her finger, before making up her mind and reaching for her phone in the bedside table. She presses her speed dial and waits patiently for Lexa to pick up in the other end.

“Hello?” Lexa says, sounding groggy.

“I can’t sleep,” Clarke mutters. It’s 1 AM, and she’s been beating herself by thinking these ungodly thoughts. Closing her eyes and inhaling another breath, she says, “and I miss you.”

“Clarke, we literally saw each other three hours ago,” Lexa mumbles.

“I know, I know.” Clarke bites her lower lip as she sniffles. Lexa catches the sound and quickly pounces on it.

“Wait, are you crying?”

“No, I’m not.” She’s lying—that’s obvious enough—and Lexa can hear her and Clarke is crying because she’s engaged to a boy she loves, even though she’s in love with her best friend and everything shouldn’t be this complicated, this messy, this catastrophic but oh God, it is. And this is not the first time Clarke wonders why her life has turned out this way.

“Clarke, I know you.” Lexa’s voice is very soft now and Clarke crumbles at the sound of it.

“Come inside?” Clarke asks, trying not to sound too hopeful. She obviously fails.

“I’m already on my way.”

Lexa ends the call and Clarke stares at her background photo for longer than necessary. It’s a picture of her and Lexa at school, sitting cross legged in the library while laughing at something Clarke said. Octavia was the one who took the said photo, commenting sourly that they look so much like a couple and that they’re so completely gross with each other. Clarke remembers Lexa shrugging it off but she also remembers the tight feeling in her chest at the admission of such words. Thankfully, nobody noticed.

As she waits, Clarke tugs Romeo against her chest, placing her chin against its stuffed head. It’s barely a minute later, when Lexa opens the door to her room and flops down on the bed next to her. She’s wearing sweatpants and a loose shirt, which shows off her collarbones. Clarke makes a pleased noise at the back of throat when Lexa raises her head and blinks sleepy-eyed at her.

“What’s wrong?” Lexa asks, her voice husky.

“I just can’t sleep,” Clarke mumbles.

“Worried about graduation?”

“I’m more worried about life, to be honest,” Clarke says, propping her chin against her hand as she meets Lexa’s tired gaze, “but I’ll get over it.”

Lexa frowns, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Clarke answers. She crawls on the left side of the bed and Lexa sighs before doing the same, dropping next to the blonde on the right. She turns off the nightlight and Clarke searches the blankets for her best friend’s hand. When she finds it, she carefully intertwines their fingers together, taking the time to feel palm against palm, warmth mingling with warmth, Lexa’s skin connected with her own and some part of her thinks that she’s going to be okay with this, with just being friends but she knows that she’s lying. A bigger part of her will always yearn for more.

Clarke can’t see Lexa’s face in the dark but she knows she’s awake. They’ve spent years sleeping next to each other so Clarke knows all about the brunette’s sleeping patterns. Clarke always falls asleep first.

“Clarke,” Lexa says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

No, Clarke wants to say, I’m not okay. I agreed to marry Finn, even though I’m in love with you. But there is no way you’ll ever feel the same thing for me.

“I’m okay.”

“Clarke.”

“Lexa, please.” Clarke sighs, her heart fluttering when Lexa tightens her grip, “I’m fine. I just—I want you here.”

“You know I’ll never leave you right?” Lexa’s tone is hushed and quiet, leaving no room for argument and Clarke wants to laugh, because Lexa truly believes that. She believes that Clarke will follow her to Stanford, the same way she has always followed Clarke.

But you will leave, Clarke thinks, her eyes fluttering shut, you’ll leave for California and you’ll leave me.

“I know.”

//

Lexa tugs on her graduation cap for the fifth time during the ceremony. It’s becoming a bad habit, but she’s been sitting on her ass for the past two hours while roll call finishes and it’s not exactly the most ideal position. Her back is straight against her chair and her head is turned slightly up. She’s on the stage with the diploma clutched tightly in her hand and Raven is currently mumbling her Valedictorian speech next to her.

It still stings, that Lexa will graduate as Salutatorian instead of Valedictorian but if there’s anybody who deserves that title then it’s definitely Raven Reyes.

“You’re going to be fine,” Lexa says from the corner of her mouth. She’s been staring at the clock for the past two hours and the back of her eyes are starting to sting.

Raven not so subtly glances over at her. “Yeah, well I’m awesome so there’s no need to remind me of that well known fact.” She sighs, shakes her head. “Can’t believe the best time of my life is finally over.”

“I hear college is going to be better,” Lexa whispers. She looks down at the audience, has to bite back a smile when her father grins at her.

“College,” Raven deadpans, snorting, “I hear it’s going to be worse.”

“Well, you’re awesome so you’re probably going to ace that too.”

Raven nearly laughs out loud. She chooses to snort loudly instead, which earns her a glare from Mr. Jaha. When the principal is no longer looking, she glances over at Lexa, wearing a grin that seems entirely too big for her face. Lexa smiles in return, because Raven has been a good friend to her these past years and she’s glad to have known her, even though she is a bit of an asshole.

“Thanks, Woods.”

“Whatever, Reyes.”

Lexa meets Clarke’s eyes from the audience. The blonde looks stunning, hair curled perfectly against her shoulders, light make-up admonishing her features, her smile as bright and radiant as the sun. She seems happy, sitting next to Octavia and Wells Jaha. But when they lock gazes, Clarke’s smile falters and she looks the way she’s always looked at Lexa these past few days, like she’s drinking every inch of Lexa in, almost as if she’s terrified the brunette will fade away.

She snaps her attention away from her best friend when Principal Jaha calls Raven for her speech. Everybody claps politely and there are even a few cheers from the graduates. Raven clears her throat, looks pleased with herself when the clapping doesn’t die down for a while. Then she taps her graduation cap and looks at the crowd.

“I know that most of you will think that I’ll deliver this witty as hell speech, where you’ll be laughing with tears running down your cheeks,” Raven says, cracking a smile when there’s laughter, “but unfortunately, Mr. Jaha warned me beforehand that I should not do that. So here I am, standing in front of you with an emotional speech memorized to the heart.”

Raven taps her hands against the podium, clearing her throat again.

“Today embarks a new step to our lifelong journey,” Raven begins, her expression actually serious. Lexa spots Clarke and Octavia grinning with pride. “Many of us will cross paths in the future but there is no denying that we may not see each other’s faces at some point. I expect that you’ll all be seeing Ms. Blake on the cover of a magazine or Mr. Green as the author of a science fiction book ten years from now because let’s be honest, those two idiots will probably be the most successful out of all of us.” The graduating class laughs and Raven’s smile widens. “I sincerely hope that we will live our life to the fullest, and that we will achieve our dreams because we’ve spent the past eighteen years of our lives in school in order to reach our fullest potential. It’d be a shame if we waste it. But we won’t know unless we all see each other again ten years from now, on our high school reunion. Until then, may we meet again.”

The class roars, stomping their feet against the ground and clapping loudly. Jasper and Monty, both wearing identical ties, are standing, yelling with fierce pride and joy. Lexa scans the crowd, looking at the happy faces of her classmates. Most of them look relieved to finally be freed from high school and some are even crying. Even John Murphy looks pleased. Lexa catches Costia’s gaze. She’s sitting at the front, so it’s been difficult to try and ignore her but Lexa gathers whatever courage she has left and turns to her ex-girlfriend. Costia has flowers tucked on top of her graduation cap, which isn’t a surprise. She looks beautiful and Lexa feels a stab of nostalgia.

When Costia smiles (even though it’s tinged with sadness) at her for the first time in weeks, Lexa realizes that she’s going to be okay.

//

The first thing Clarke does when the ceremony is over is to find Lexa. She stumbles over her toga, nearly loses her cap in the process, has to chase her diploma when it flies away from her hands before she finally catches sight of her best friend talking to her father, her cheeks flushed red with a smile so blinding that Clarke has to pause for several seconds to catch her breath.

Lexa spots her almost immediately. Her face lights up like the sun and Clarke’s breath gets knocked out of her lungs all over again. They cross the yard towards each other and Clarke bumps a few elbows with some of her classmates before she’s finally close enough to fling her arms around Lexa. The other girl lets out a surprised laugh and Clarke squeezes her until she’s sure that neither of them can breathe.

“Clarke,” Lexa says, chuckling as they pull away. Clarke’s eyes are wet and Lexa wipes away the tears with a small smile on her face. “No need to get emotional.”

“Sorry,” Clarke mumbles, “Graduation vibes.” She moves to hug Lexa again and Lexa obliges, rubbing the back of Clarke’s head comfortingly. A huge wave of nostalgia hits Clarke right there and then, as she remembers the last time they were so intimately intertwined like this. Her father’s funeral, with Clarke crying against Lexa’s shoulder at the unfairness of it all. It parallels this exact moment as well. Because Lexa is inevitably going to leave and Clarke is going to stay.

Clarke is the first to pull away this time. She offers a shaky smile.

“At least we still have this summer,” she says.

The smile Lexa has on her face is immediately wiped off. She averts her gaze from Clarke’s and then Clarke blinks before taking a step back, already missing the warmth of Lexa’s closeness.

“Unless you already have plans,” Clarke mumbles, waiting for Lexa to contradict her.

She doesn’t. Instead, she nods, looking crestfallen. “My father wants me to go to California immediately,” she explains quietly. “To prepare myself for college. To make friends beforehand. To have prior understanding of what’s its like being alone for the first time. Instead of a college dormitory, he wants me to have my own apartment.” She sighs, dragging her hand against Clarke’s arm. “Let’s talk about this later. Finn’s coming.”

Clarke turns and sure enough, Finn’s walking towards her with the biggest grin on his face. She looks back at Lexa almost immediately but the brunette is already turning back to where Uncle Gustus is still standing, talking animatedly with Costia. She can see the tension in Lexa’s shoulders.

Finn reaches her before Clarke can make another move. He sweeps her up in his arms and spins her around, laughing with joy and glee. Clarke manages a laugh as well but her heart is breaking. She’s in front of the school with her arms around her fiancée and her heart is breaking because her best friend is going to leave.

Finn puts her down and presses his mouth against hers. He’s smiling so hard that it’s infectious and she smiles as well, deepening the kiss.

“I cannot wait to start my life with you, Clarke Griffin,” he murmurs when he pulls away.

“Likewise, Finn Collins,” Clarke whispers. She presses her forehead against his, inhaling his scent. She chases away thoughts of Lexa, because it will hurt too much and she needs to focus on what matters. Like graduation. Like the fact that she’s going to marry somebody who loves her, somebody whom she loves just as equally. She grabs the front of Finn’s shirt and kisses him again.

(She pretends that she’s happy, even though she’s clearly not.)

//

Lexa comes home later and is nearly pounced on by Mercutio. She laughs, not even minding the fact that her dog has his paw prints all over the front of her graduation toga. He’s gotten incredibly big this past few years, almost big enough to trample Lexa whenever she comes into the room.  She fondly rubs his head, her smile disappearing when she realizes that she’s going to leave him here when she moves to California.

“Sorry, buddy,” she murmurs, scratching the back of his ears. Mercutio’s tail wags. “I’ll visit every summer though.”

Her father comes in a minute later, dropping his car keys on the table and stretching his arms behind his back. He looks over to where she’s seated on the floor next to Mercutio, playfully trying to get him to bite her hand and she pretends not to see the worried furrow of his eyebrows or the frown on his mouth.

“Alexandria,” he calls out and her back immediately straightens.

She doesn’t turn around and her father audibly sighs before sitting down next to her. The silence is uncomfortable, filled with too many unsaid things and worried expressions. Lexa knows that her father only wants the best of her but he has the same tendency of being unable to say it out loud. Like father, like daughter, Lexa thinks to herself. Mercutio is heavily panting in front of them, tongue lolling to the side.

“I don’t think you should be in a hurry to move away,” her father finally breaks the silence and Lexa flinches.

“I know,” she mutters. She thinks back to Clarke’s face, heartbroken and shattered, when Lexa lied about her father wanting her to move to California immediately. The truth is, her father doesn’t want her to leave at all but Lexa got the acceptance letter a week ago and the thought of staying for the summer while watching Clarke be happy with Finn seems too much of a punishment. She doesn’t think she can bear it.

And that’s why her bags are already packed and ready to go. That’s why she can’t stay and pretend that she’s happy—because she’s not. That’s why she’s leaving her hometown and her father and her dog. Because of Clarke Griffin. Because Lexa cannot bear the thought of watching Clarke be happy with someone else, someone who isn’t her.

Lexa sucks in a deep breath. She hasn’t told her father yet, even though she tells him everything about her life. This secret seems entirely too intimate, too simple and yet too complicated; and some part of her wants to tell Clarke before she tells her father. That day, she realizes, might never come at all.

“But I want to try,” Lexa lies easily. Every fiber of her being is screaming because she’s never lied to her father before. She looks into his eyes and she wonders if he can tell that she’s lying or not. She continues, her voice light and careful, “I want to experience new things, make new friends, start new roots in other places.” She sighs. She hates lying. It always feels heavy on her tongue. The truth is, she wants nothing more than to storm into Clarke's house, pin her against the bed, confess every dirty little secret that she ever has of her, and kiss her until they're both barely breathing.

“You could try college dormitories,” her father suggests.

“I don’t want to stuck with a roommate who I may or may not like,” Lexa states quickly. That part is true. She bites her lower lip and turns away, patting Mercutio’s nose. “Besides, I’m only leaving next week. We still have seven days left before you inevitably say goodbye to your baby girl.”

Her father makes a face and Lexa laughs.

"What about Clarke?" he asks, his smile fading away. 

Lexa is quick to ask, "What about her?"

"She can't possibly be happy about your decision."

"Well, she's happy with Finn." She can't help but let it come off bitterly and her father sighs before wrapping an arm around her shoulder, an affectionate gesture he often uses to give off unconditional support and love. Lexa leans into his embrace, inhaling his musky scent, knowing that she'll miss it once she leaves. Mercutio whines when he realizes that he's being neglected and Lexa lets out a throaty laugh before scratching at his ears again.

Her father hums. "She's happier with you," he says, after a while. 

"I can't make her happy all the time." And it's the truth. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less. She can feel her heart breaking in half at the thought of leaving Clarke Griffin in this small town. She should be excited, she should be ecstatic and happy and delirious with joy. But she's not. Clarke will be here and Lexa won't be. There are many things she thought she'd never realize at this age (like realizing that you’ve been in love with you best friend since the dawn of time) and it's daunting that in a matter of a few days, she'll be leaving Clarke behind. Clarke—the one person who's been with her through every memory of her life. And she's not happy—no she's not, she's terrified. 

"She loves you," her father says quietly, his eyes huge and sad and Lexa wonders if he knows.

She doesn’t respond and her father doesn’t expect her to. They stay seated in the middle of the living room, her dad rubbing small circles against her arm as Lexa continues to ruffle the space between Mercutio’s ears. It feels like a few hours when really, it’s only a few minutes. Then they’re both torn from their reverie when a knock on the door collapses through their thoughts. Her father stands up, grimly looking at Lexa.

“Talk to her,” he says seriously.

“I will,” she mutters but the situation itself is already daunting and she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to talk about. She stands up from her place and Mercutio follows her to the front door. She knows who’s standing on the other side and her stomach flips at the thought of Clarke demanding an explanation for her early departure. Taking a deep, calming breath, she pulls the door open and there’s a flash of gold passing by her. When she turns, Clarke’s already storming the stairs to her room.

Her father appears from the kitchen, holding a sandwich in his hand. He looks at Lexa exasperatedly.

“Go,” he says.

Lexa sighs again. Mercutio barks once before running up the stairs. It takes a few moments of quietly planning her death before she follows.

Clarke’s already changed out of her graduation toga. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and she’s wearing a white loose blouse and pink shorts. She looks, as Lexa shuts the door behind her, incredibly and impossibly beautiful. But then Lexa sees the quiet fury in the blonde’s blue eyes and knows that underneath that beauty is a snake waiting to lash out.      

“I know that you’re upset,” Lexa says, raising her hands as if that will somehow Clarke down. Mercutio wags his tail before barking once and nudging his nose against Clarke’s thigh. Clarke doesn’t even look at him.

“Upset?” Clarke’s a volcano when she’s angry and Lexa braces herself for the onslaught. Every time they always argue, Lexa is always left feeling drained and emotionally exhausted, almost as if Clarke has physically dragged her through a day without sleeping or eating. “I am more than upset, Lexa. Fucking hell, I’m furious.”

Lexa drops her gaze to the ground the same time Mercutio whimpers.

“I was going to tell you,” Lexa says, her tone pleading, “but it was kind of hard to. Especially since you’ve been busy with Finn—”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap,” Clarke seethes. “You’ve had plenty of time to tell me. Don’t drag Finn into this.”

“What do you expect me to say?” Lexa demands.

“I expect you to give me an explanation!”

Mercutio whimpers again. Clarke finally notices and her shoulder sags as she kneels down next to the dog and pats his head. Lexa relaxes slightly before taking a step forward and sitting down on the edge of her bed. They’re both quiet for several long seconds and Lexa takes the time to quietly drink in her best friend’s features, noting the worry lines and the hard set of her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa whispers, reaching forward and placing her hand on top of Clarke’s.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Clarke mumbles. She doesn’t look at the brunette but turns her palm up so that their fingers are quietly intertwined. Lexa takes this as a good sign.

“I guess I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“You’re my best friend; I’m always going to worry about you.” Clarke sighs, bringing their clasped hands closer to her lips. Lexa shivers at the brush of her lips against her skin. “Don’t mistake this for forgiveness. I’m still pissed at you but I want to make this week last.”

“I’m sorry,” Lexa says again, but it doesn’t make things any better.

“You really can’t stay?” Clarke asks, sounding very vulnerable even though her eyes are full of a steely resolve.

Lexa doesn’t respond right away. She has the choice: she can either stay to make this summer last or she can go and leave Clarke to be with Finn. And here is Clarke, her eyes hard and soft at the same time, her mouth trembling slightly, obviously trying to keep control and she’s begging her to stay. Lexa’s heart breaks at the sight of it.

“I can’t,” Lexa murmurs.

“Not even for Mercutio?” Clarke’s other hand falls limp against the dog’s neck and Lexa shakes her head.

“No.”

“Not even for your dad?”

The brunette shakes her head again. “He’s the one who wants me to go,” she lies easily enough. Clarke goes quiet for a few seconds before she sighs and asks; her voice soft and completely vulnerable, “Not even for me?”

Lexa’s breath catches in her throat and for a few, short dizzying seconds, she is stunned into silence. Her heart feels like it’s breaking in her chest and she has to blink incoming tears from her eyes before she allows herself to look at Clarke again. The blonde looks like a kicked puppy, blue orbs full of an eternal sadness that pushed at the basis of Lexa’s heart.

“Clarke, I just—” Her tongue suddenly feels entirely too heavy in her mouth and Lexa closes her eyes briefly and squeezes Clarke’s hand.

“You can’t stay,” Clarke’s voice is devoid of emotion and Lexa opens her eyes to see the blonde nodding her head in either shame or acceptance. “I get it. Just please—” She takes a deep, shaking breath and stutters out a small laugh. Lexa tilts her head in confusion, a frown already forming in place when Clarke raises her head to reveal that there are tears in her eyes. “Can I stay here for the night?”

“Of course.” Lexa nods.

Clarke bites her lips, looking down at Mercutio before shyly glancing back at Lexa again. “Can I stay for the whole week?” she asks.

Lexa smiles, ducking her head and nodding once more. “You can do that too.”

//

Clarke wakes up to the smell of pancakes baking in the kitchen. She rises from Lexa’s bed, not entirely surprised to see that the other side is empty. Running her fingers through her hair and fighting off a yawn, she remembers what day it is and feels something heavy drop into the bottom of her stomach. Mercutio is still sleeping by her feet and she gives him a lazy pat against the ears before throwing on one of Lexa’s green sweaters and padding downstairs.

Lexa is reading a list out loud to her father when Clarke appears in the kitchen. Uncle Gustus is currently in the process of putting his fresh pancakes on a plate and humming at everything his daughter is saying. It takes Clarke a while to realize what Lexa is reading.

“Map? Check. College papers? Check. Apartment keys? Check. Passport? Check.” Lexa looks up when Clarke slides into the chair next to her, offering the blonde a soft smile. Clarke returns it tightly. The brunette is already dressed and prepared, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing a leather jacket across her shoulders and designer jeans. She looks painfully beautiful and Clarke tries to commit the image to memory, because this is the last time she’s going to see Lexa for a very long time.

“Excited?” Clarke asks, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater and trying not to sound awfully sad.

“Very.” Lexa checks off a few more stuff on her list before closing her notebook. “Is it really okay for you to drive me there?”

Clarke swallows. She accepts the coffee Uncle Gustus hands her and toys with the rim of the cup, letting her fingers trace the shape. “Yeah,” she mutters, nodding her head lightly, “It’s totally fine. Plus I get to spend more time with you so it’s a win-win.”

Lexa exhales loudly. “It’s only an hour drive to the airport.”

“Every second counts.” Clarke blinks back the tears stinging the back of her eyes. It’s too early for this. Besides, she’s made peace with it, even though the past week has been spent holding back her sobs and trying to keep her begging to a minimum. Lexa won’t budge. She won’t stay, always insisting that her father demands it. And as much as it destroys Clarke, it pisses her off too. But she’s not going to ruin Lexa’s special day. She is, after all, heading off to college.

(Clarke tries not to think about the fact that she hasn’t even told Lexa about the ring she’s been hiding for the past few days, the ring that binds her to Finn.)

Uncle Gustus takes a seat opposite them and distributes the pancakes. Clarke smiles, because he makes the best pancakes, and she’s really hungry, especially since she and Lexa spent last night going through every picture they’ve had together and laughing at their childhood. Lexa checks her notebook once more before digging into her breakfast, making a soft, satisfied noise at the back of her throat.

“Delicious as always,” she mutters.

“You’re going to miss it when you’re in Cali,” Uncle Gustus says, laughing heartily.

Lexa shoots him a playful glare and Clarke snorts. “See? Even your dad wants you to stay,” she mumbles.

“I always want Lexa to stay,” Lexa’s father says and Clarke feels Lexa tense. Clarke turns to her best friend, opening her mouth to say something (to beg more, probably) when Lexa beats her to it.

“Well, college, remember?” The brunette mutters. She finishes her breakfast quietly while Uncle Gustus and Clarke converse about this big basketball game they’ve been watching for the past week. Clarke tries not to let her gaze fall on Lexa every once a while but it’s kind of hard not to, especially since a timer has been shoved into their friendship. Uncle Gustus must sense her longing because he picks up the plates and says, “Maybe you should go shower, Clarke. Lexa always likes to be early most of the time” before moving to wash the dishes.

Lexa picks up her notebook, mumbling something about checking her things one final time. Clarke knows that she hasn’t missed anything, since she’s watched Lexa spend the past week obsessively going through her things every once again. Clarke follows the brunette up the stairs and watches as Lexa lies back down on the bed to hug Mercutio. The dog perks up, placing his snout against Lexa’s shoulder and whimpering quietly. He must sense her leaving too.

“He’s going to miss you,” Clarke mutters, leaning against the doorway.

“I’m going to miss him too,” Lexa says.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Lexa doesn’t say anything. She sits up again, looking at Clarke’s feet. Mercutio lets out a low whine.

“I’m going to take a shower now,” Clarke says, since she knows Lexa won’t offer any more words. Grabbing a few of her leftover clothes from the closet, she moves to the bathroom but is stopped when Lexa says, tone hesitant and careful,

“Clarke, you know that I love you, right?”

Clarke turns around, frowning. She takes in the image of Lexa sitting on her bed in the middle of her very bare room and she suddenly feels like crying all over again. Lexa’s suitcases are on the ground, zipped up and ready to go. Most of Lexa’s pictures (usually taped on the wall, for everyone to see) are gone—pictures of her father, of Mercutio when he was just a puppy, of Clarke, of them growing up together—shoved into her bag. Lexa has taken her books as well, but she can’t take all of them so some of her not-so-favorites are still lying on the bookshelf. But it’s mostly empty, like the rest of the space.

Clarke swallows the lump in her throat and blinks back tears.

“Yeah,” she says, “I’m not stupid. I know you love me.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Lexa continues, finally looking at Clarke. The corners of her green eyes are wet. She looks shaken and vulnerable and it destroys whatever self-control Clarke has.

“Then don’t,” Clarke growls. She drops her clothes on the floor and wrings her hands. “If you don’t want to leave me, then don’t.”

Lexa’s usual mask of defiance and disinterest fall back into place and she purses her lips as she sniffles. “It’s too late for that,” she mutters.

Clarke has a feeling they’re not talking about college anymore. “Lexa…”

“Look, my bags are already packed and ready to go. I don’t want to leave but I have to. It’s what my dad wants.” She doesn’t look at Clarke when she says the last part. “You should shower already. I have to be at the airport in an hour or two.”

Clarke’s hands shake when she picks up her clothes again. After she slams the door to the bathroom shut behind her, she makes sure to take the longest and coldest shower in her lifetime. She lets the cold seep through every inch of her bones, willing them to shake off this unpleasant and unwanted feeling in her chest. She wants nothing more than to rip off the jealously curdling in her stomach, to squeeze the sadness filling her eyes, to choke out the desperation strangling her lungs. She cannot bear to face the reality that Lexa is actually going to leave her side for the first time in their lives.

She sputters on the water when she remembers the day Lexa visited her after her father had died. She remembers Lexa hugging the life out of her, squeezing so tightly that Clarke could feel all of her broken pieces sticking back together. She remembers Lexa’s mouth against her ear, promising never to leave her.

You lied, Clarke thinks to herself as she finishes. She wraps a towel around her body, shaking her hair dry and wiping off a few excess droplets. Then she steps out of the bathroom and back into Lexa’s space. She looks up sharply when there’s the sudden movement of a body crashing face first onto the ground and a loud muffled yell piercing through the still air. Mercutio starts barking at once.

“Lexa?” Clarke says, completely puzzled.

Lexa picks herself up from the floor. Mercutio has immediately gone over to nudge his nose against his owner’s face, making the girl shake her head in embarrassment. “I’m fine,” she mutters, rubbing at her arm.

Clarke shakes her head, still baffled. “You’ve seen me naked plenty of times,” she exasperatedly says.

“As kids,” Lexa points out, her cheeks red.

“We’re still kids,” Clarke states. She ducks her head as Lexa mutters a few more incoherent words under her breath before the brunette thankfully leaves the room, Mercutio following in her wake. Clarke changes quietly, often taking the time to walk around while she’s pulling on her blouse, staring at the spaces where the pictures had once been tacked on the wall, brushing her fingertips on the empty table, frowning at the fact that Lexa’s left a copy of The Great Gatsby on the bookshelf.

When she comes downstairs, Lexa and Uncle Gustus are talking in the kitchen, their voices hushed. Clarke stops and even though she knows how rude it is to eavesdrop but her curiosity gets the best of her and she stays hidden around the corner.

“—make sure to call whenever you need anything,” Gustus is saying, his voice low and barely coherent. But Clarke manages to catch a few words.

“I will,” Lexa says.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?”

“Yes, dad.” Clarke can imagine Lexa rolling her eyes and has to bite back a smile.

“And have you talked to Clarke yet?”

There’s silence and Clarke furrows her eyebrows. Talk to her about what? She licks her lips and leans forward, trying to catch whatever Lexa’s response is. All she hears is a frustrated sigh and Lexa tapping her fingers against the surface of the counter. She doesn’t say anything, which completely baffles Clarke.

“Lexa,” Gustus says, “at least talk in the car, okay?”

“Fine.” There are light footsteps on the wooden floor and Clarke quickly dashes back up the stairs. She stops at the top step and pretends to be staring at a picture she’s always passed through the years but has never given the time to look at properly. It’s a photo of Gustus holding a newly born Lexa, with a huge smile on his face. He looks deliriously happy and content.

Lexa breaks off her thoughts by saying, “Hey.” She’s standing at the bottom of the stairs with her hands shoved to her back pockets, watching her. Clarke tears her gaze away from the photo.

“Hi,” Clarke says in response, trying to smile. It doesn’t work. “Ready to go?”

Lexa nods and Clarke tries to push down the inevitable feeling that she is making a very huge mistake. But she helps Lexa drag her suitcases downstairs anyways, shoves the bags into the trunk of the car, and then watches at the side when Gustus and Mercutio all walk up to say their goodbyes. Uncle Gustus wraps his big arms around Lexa and presses his cheek against her hair, looking sad and small, even for his height. Mercutio wags his tail and barks as loud as he can, his voice screechy. It takes Lexa a while to pull away and when she does, Clarke can see her shoulders shaking. Even though she might not show it, Clarke knows that this is hard for her too.

“May we meet again,” Clarke hears Gustus saying and Lexa smiles, before repeating the sentiment. Then Lexa bends down to hug Mercutio and the dog laps at her face, whimpering quietly.

There are tears in Clarke’s eyes but she wipes them off with the palm of her hand, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She tries to focuses on all of the good things that are happening. Like the fact that Lexa is going to a good college or the fact that Finn’s being supportive of her nonstop but they don’t matter. They don’t, because at the end of the day—the truth remains. Lexa will be gone.

Clarke is so focused on the ground that she doesn’t see Lexa walking towards her. She only notices when the brunette takes her hand and squeezes it tight.

“Are you okay?” Lexa asks.

Clarke looks up, blinking away the tears. Lexa smiles and it’s a sad, small smile, one that pulls at the strings in Clarke’s heart.

“Let’s just go,” Clarke murmurs.

Lexa nods and they get into the car and Clarke starts the ignition. There is silence and Clarke watches from the corner of her eye as Lexa waves one last goodbye to her father and Mercutio. The dog lets out a long, loud howl and Lexa lets out a watery laugh, tears sparkling in her eyes. Uncle Gustus shoves his hands into his pockets and nods, but he too looks like a kicked puppy.

Clarke takes a deep breath and glances over at her best friend, who is still staring at her house. She wants nothing more than to say “Please don’t leave” or “I love you, I’m in love with you”but it won’t change anything. So she keeps her mouth shut, because there is nothing left for her to say. Nothing that matters anymore.

//

Lexa wonders if she should say it. It’d be easy and hard at the same time. To just blurt it out in the middle of nowhere, with Clarke staring at the road in front of them, the wind in her clear, blue eyes. She could say it now and Clarke will either reject her or pretend that this never happened, the same way she did when they kissed at that bar. It’d be so easy then. Lexa could just say, “I’m in love with you” and things will never be the same again.

But—she doesn’t. If there is one thing Lexa is absolutely positive of, it’s that she cannot bear to lose Clarke. So she bites her lower lip and keeps her mouth shut. Clarke has the radio turned off and she wonders if she could just reach out and turn it on, in hopes of diffusing this awkward tension but Clarke’s hand is tightly clenched on the wheel and she knows that something is very wrong.

“What did Costia say to you?” Clarke suddenly asks.

Lexa’s knee jerks. “What?” she says, bewildered. She’s thought of Costia, of course, but she’s thought of Clarke a lot more.

Clarke doesn’t look at her. “At graduation,” she says, “I saw her talking to your dad.”

“Costia talks to a lot of people,” Lexa says dismissively. She catches sight of Clarke clenching her other hand and sighs, knowing how much Clarke hates it when Lexa doesn’t talk. So she reaches forward, squeezes the blonde’s knee and says, “She just wanted to say her goodbyes. Since she’s moving to New Zealand at the end of the summer and all. Dad always liked her.”

“That’s not what I asked—”

“I know.” Lexa lets out another deep breath and looks out the window, admiring the scenery passing by. Her dad had told her to talk to Clarke on the way to the airport and she knows that she should but her tongue feels too heavy and her thoughts are crashing into each other and she just can’t think straight. The distraction of Costia, however, is enough. “After she talked to my father, I asked her to walk with me.” She thinks back to that day, feeling her heart clench when she remembers Clarke leaning forward to kiss Finn.

“What did you say?” Clarke asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

“I told her that I was sorry for everything,” Lexa continues, jaw clenching. She thinks back to how beautiful Costia had looked, with the flowers in her graduation cap and her bright hazel eyes. “And luckily enough, she forgave me. She told me that she didn’t have the right to be angry with me and that even though our time was really short; she loved me all the same. I—I told her that I loved her too. And she smiled and I could tell she was about to cry because her nose scrunched and her eyes started to shine. She said, ‘Guess that’s just not enough, huh?’ I know I broke her heart. I could hear it breaking.”

Lexa licks her lips. The pain of breaking up with Costia has faded to a dull throb but it’s still there, wringing her out and leaving her gasping in times where everything is too much, too fast. And only the thought of Clarke can calm her. She broke up with Costia because she found out she was in love with Clarke and she had no intentions of stringing Costia along.

“You did the right thing,” Clarke says out of the blue.

Lexa scoffs. “Right.”

“Lexa.” Clarke glances at her, frowning. “You’re both going to be on the other side of the world. You would’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble, okay? Not to mention heartache too.”

“I still broke her heart.”

“I’m going to slap you across the face if you don’t shut up, I swear.” Clarke reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She snaps a quick picture of Lexa looking mournfully into the distance and then stops the car in the middle of the road.

“What are you—?” Lexa begins.

“I told you to shut up, Lex.”

“Seriously? You’re going to update your Instagram in the middle of the highway?”

“I will slap you, I swear.” Clarke’s half-smiling now and it’s nice to see her like this, especially since they’ve gone through the week arguing about Lexa leaving and Clarke staying. They’ve spent the past seven days trying to make everything last; going to movies, staying in and watching more movies, staring at forgotten photos, baking, biking along the highway, eating ice cream in the middle of the night, crying, comforting each other in the middle of the night, screaming for the other to understand until their voices were sore, laughing at puns on Tumblr and then sobbing at the abruptness of it all. They were a mess and it’s been one hell of a week but Lexa knows that she’ll remember every part of it.

Finally, Clarke raises her head and grins, showing Lexa the post. It has all the right filters and the caption underneath reads: Farewell to my best girl @lexawoods. Lexa smiles at the usage of being Clarke’s best girl but there’s a tight clench in her chest and all of a sudden, she can’t breathe.

“We’ll always be best friends, right?” Clarke asks quietly.

Lexa inhales sharply and then nods. “Yeah,” she says, smiling softly, “Always.” Her eyebrows knit together at the sadness in Clarke’s features. “But you’re still going to Stanford, right? Once you get your letter?”

Clarke nods. “I’ll move in with you,” she says and laughs when Lexa does.

“Good. Just checking.”

(Some part of Lexa—a small, miniature part that seems intent on destroying her hope—doesn’t believe her best friend.)

//

The airport is mostly empty. The only people who seem to be around are a bunch of guys on business trips, eyeing their phone or their flight schedule. Clarke spots a couple sitting on the bench and pointing at all the places they’re going to visit on a large map, laughing loudly and then kissing each other on the lips. Clarke is hit with the image of her and Lexa doing the same thing and shakes her head, because the impossibility of that fantasy coming true remains just that. An impossibility. A fantasy.

Clarke shoves her hands into the back pockets of her jeans as she follows Lexa into the departure longue. Again, it is mostly empty. Except for a family of three patiently waiting by the corner. The parents are talking to each other in hushed tones while the little daughter is busy drawing on a sketchpad. She looks a bit like Lexa, once Clarke thinks about it. The girl has the same, curly hair and the same crease between the eyebrows.

I miss her already, Clarke thinks to herself, glancing over at Lexa, who has taken as seat next to the large window overlooking the runway. She’s still here and I miss her already.

Lexa is checking her list for the hundredth time again and Clarke sighs before taking a seat next to her.

“Scared?” Clarke asks.

“A little,” Lexa admits, glancing up from her notebook. She offers Clarke a small smile. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

“I know.”

“And we’ll Skype every night.”

“I know.”

“And I love you.”

Clarke’s heart quickens in its pace but she nods before saying, “I know.” She turns her head away, completely missing the way Lexa’s face falls. Her eyes fall on the family again and she sighs inwardly, because the last time she was completely happy with her mother was before her father died. And even until now, it still hurts to think about it. Then the voice on the intercom starts calling for Lexa’s flight and panic seizes Clarke’s heart.

“Lexa, I—” She stands up, turns when Lexa follows her lead.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Lexa mutters, looking down at her feet.

Clarke is suddenly hit with an overwhelming wave of sadness and before she knows it, there are tears streaming down her cheeks. “I guess it is,” she chokes out. Lexa looks up at her, green eyes wide and desperate and Clarke wants nothing more than to reach forward and kiss her, wants nothing more than to whisper I love you, I love you, please don’t leave me between harried gasps for breath, wants nothing more than for Lexa to stay and be with her for the rest of their lives.

“Wait, I have to show you something,” Clarke says instead, reaching into her bag and pulling out the plush teddy bear she and Lexa bought on her birthday. The words on the teddy’s shirt are scrawled and messy, blotched ink on the fabric but it can still be read and Clarke stares at it (I love you Lexa Woods) for a few seconds before handing it to Lexa.

“You’re giving this to me?” Lexa asks, sounding shaken.

Clarke shrugs. “Something to remember me by,” she quietly says.

Lexa doesn’t move for several seconds but then, before Clarke can say something else, she’s throwing her backpack to her front and opening the zipper and pulling out her own teddy bear. She shoves it into Clarke’s hand and Clarke’s laugh disappears in her throat as she too reads the letters written on the white shirt of the stuffed animal: I love you Clarke Griffin.

“Clarke, I—” Lexa looks frustrated with herself, her nostrils flaring as she glares at the ground beneath her feet. “I’m sorry and I’m—”

The voice at the intercom calls for Lexa’s flight again and Clarke shakes her head before flinging her arms around the other girl, her hands desperately clutching at the back of Lexa’s shirt. Lexa wraps her arms around Clarke’s waist and buries her face against her shoulder and they stay intertwined like that for greedy, desperate seconds. Clarke takes this time to try and remember every part of the girl standing before her. She inhales Lexa’s scent, tugs at Lexa’s curly hair, presses her body close to Lexa’s because this can’t be the last time where they see each other. No. It can’t be.

Lexa inhales shakily as she pulls away but Clarke keeps her arms around the brunette’s neck and their faces are too close for comfort and Clarke licks her lips, because this is her chance. She could lean forward and kiss her best friend and it could change everything or it could change nothing. Or she could just shake her head and pretend that her heart isn’t breaking in the worst ways possible.

Before she can make her choice, Lexa breaks free from her embrace, her jaw clenching. She looks as if she’s trying hard not to cry.

“I’ll see you when the summer is over,” Lexa says, nodding her head as if she’s trying to convince herself. Clarke wonders if she knows that they won’t be seeing each other at all.

“Keep in touch,” Clarke says.

Lexa’s mouth curls into a half-smile. “Goodbye, Clarke,” she says, “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again, Lexa,” Clarke returns and she watches, with her heart breaking, as Lexa walks away.

//

Later, when she opens the door to an empty apartment in an entirely foreign place, Lexa wants nothing more than to fling her bags outside the window and scream her throat out.

//

That night, Clarke waits and waits for the call and when it doesn’t come, she drags her ass out of bed and punches the mirror in the bathroom, trying hard not to cry when she sees the blood.

//

Lexa barely gets anything done for the following days. She sleeps, showers, eats, reads a few books and watches movies before collapsing back on the bed. She spends countless hours in her pajamas, staring at the teddy bear Clarke gave her and wishing for Mercutio back. Plenty of times, her thumb hovers over Clarke’s name on her contacts but she never calls or texts. Her father, however, is a different story. She’s left him with a few messages but hasn’t had the guts to have a real conversation yet. She fears that she’ll break down once she hears his voice.

Her suitcases haven’t been unpacked yet and the apartment is dreadfully empty. Her father had decorated the place with the necessities once before she came here but asides from a warm bed and an endless stream of movies saved on the TV, Lexa feels as if she’s living in a stranger’s house. It’s small and comfortable but it’s not home.

She has a neighbor whom she’s been passing with for the past few days. A tall woman with high cheekbones and light brown hair. They’ve nodded to each other plenty of times and Lexa can’t help but let her eyes stray during these moments, taking in the defined beauty of the other woman. It takes her another week to find out that her neighbor’s name is Anya.

She’s about a month in California and her suitcases are still tucked in, she hasn’t visited her campus yet and her growing list of TV shows and movies just keep growing. Worse, she hasn’t gotten around to talking to her father and Clarke, which is really bad, if the endless stream of voicemails is anything to go by. This is completely unlike her—this is the very opposite of Lexa Woods actually and if she had the right state of mind, she would’ve done something about it already. But she’s not in the right state of mind. She’s depressed, homesick, and cranky and with every minute that’s ticking past on the clock, the severity of her emotions deepens.

The situation only gets better when there’s a knock on the door one day and Lexa raises her bed-ridden head from the pillow. She’s drooled in her sleep again—which would usually gross her out—but at the moment, she doesn’t care. Wiping the heel of her palm against her mouth, she stumbles from her bed and walks over to the front door, careless of the fact that she looks horrendous. It’s probably just the mailman, or a kindly neighbor asking for a cup of sugar.

She opens the door and raises her eyebrows in surprise when she realizes that Anya is standing in front of her, her light brown hair tied in a loose braid while wearing casual clothes. She still looks stunning and Lexa lets her eyes do a once-over before snapping up to meet the woman’s gaze.

“Hello,” she says coolly.

Anya nods. “You must be Lexa,” she starts, stretching out a hand, “I’m Anya.”

“I know.” Lexa says. She doesn’t accept the handshake, just raises one eyebrow at it in defiance. The other woman withdraws quickly, a small smile quirking up her lips.

“Other than asking how you know my name, I’m just going to be a neighborly person and formally welcome you to California,” Anya says. She has a certain drawl to the way she says her words and Lexa finds it oddly attractive.

“I’ve been here a month,” Lexa says carefully, leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms, “Why choose to be neighborly now? And how do you know I’m not from here?”

“You ask too many questions,” Anya states. She tilts her head to the side. “I’ll answer them, if you’ll have a drink with me tonight.”

Of all the things that her neighbor would say, Lexa was definitely not expecting that. She blinks once, her shoulders tightening immediately at the thought. She hates the fact that the first image that comes to mind is of Clarke kissing her during her 18^th birthday and she briefly wonders if she’ll ever get over her anytime soon.

Anya must sense her hesitation because she takes a step back, looking away quickly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to—” she starts to say.

“It’s not that,” Lexa mutters, forcing herself to relax. “It’s okay, seriously. I’ll go.”

Anya looks at her face carefully. “Are you sure?” she asks.

Lexa thinks of Clarke and then nods. “I’m sure,” she answers and for once, her smile is not forced.

//

Clarke needs to buy a new phone.

After waiting for weeks and weeks for the phone call or the text message from Lexa (one that inevitably never comes) she smashes her phone against the wall when Octavia comes over one day and innocently asks if Lexa has called yet. A mixture of emotions washes over her—desperation, sadness, anger, hate, love—and a second later; she’s grabbing her phone from the bedside table and flinging it across the room. The battery falls out and the screen cracks. Octavia immediately grabs her arm and whirls her around.

“Calm down, blondie,” the other girl says, fierce.

“She never called me,” Clarke whispers in a broken tone.

“You mean Lexa?” Something akin to understanding flashes across Octavia’s face and she sympathetically rubs Clarke’s shoulder, frowning, “Hey, I’m sorry I asked. I—I had no idea, okay?”

Clarke sniffs. There are tear tracks in her eyes and she chastises herself for losing control. Looking away from Octavia’s heavy gaze, she picks up the broken remains of her phone and grunts when she sees that the screen has partially caved in. It’s useless now. She throws it to one corner of the room and walks over to the bed.

“Maybe she’s been busy?” Octavia suggests, following after her.

Clarke snorts. “Please. This is the girl who would rather go here in the middle of the night than leave me alone to fend off monsters,” she mumbles. She rolls her eyes when Octavia gives her a look. “We were eight.”

Octavia chuckles. “God, she is so whipped for you.”

Clarke shakes her head. Lexa is not whipped. Lexa is just a really good friend and even though the fact hurts more than she likes to admit, she has to accept it. Besides, there is no way Lexa would ever return her feelings.

“She’s just a good friend,” she voices this out to Octavia.

“Right, and Lincoln is gay,” the other girl deadpans.

“O, she practically broke up with Costia for college,” Clarke seethes, “I don’t think she has a single romantic bone in her body.” She sighs, tucks her legs underneath her as Octavia opens her mouth to contradict her words. Clarke doesn’t let her finish, however, “Sure, they’ve been together for like, two years or something, and I’m pretty sure that Lexa loved her but—you don’t break up with the person you’re in love with just because of distance.”

Octavia is silent for several long seconds while Clarke ponders the possibility of Lexa being incapable of love. She’s pissed, angry and heartbroken so maybe she’s saying things that aren’t true even in the slightest but Lexa hasn’t called in forever, hasn’t even had the decency to send a text message and—God, why is Clarke beating herself up for this? It’s Lexa’s loss.

“She doesn’t love me that way,” she whispers.

“No, she doesn’t,” Octavia agrees and Clarke scoffs. Then Octavia rubs the back of her neck and smiles. “She loves you more.”

Clarke doesn’t say anything and Octavia continues, undeterred and determined, “Clarke, you and I have been friends for years now and I know that I’m like, your best friend and all, but Lexa tops that title and I can see why. She’d do anything for you, she loves you and I am sick and tired of seeing you not see it that way.”

Something inside Clarke’s chest tightens as she turns to the other girl, eyes furrowed and mouth slightly open, “What are you talking about?”

Octavia pointedly rolls her eyes and groans. She punches Clarke against the arm and says, with a passion that leaves no stone unturned, “Do I seriously have to spell it out for you? Lexa is in love with you and I’m not saying it in the friend way—I’m saying it in the same way I’m in love with Lincoln Grounds, for God’s sake!”

The words are absurd and completely nonsensical, so that’s the main reason why Clarke burst out laughing. She laughs and laughs, until it comes to the point that she no longer has an idea why she’s laughing in the first place. Octavia is looking at her like she’s lost her mind and maybe she has, maybe she hasn’t—she doesn’t know. As soon as she stops laughing however, reality slaps her across the face. Octavia might not have a clue about Lexa’s feelings but Clarke knows hers—and she knows, God, she knows that even though she loves Finn, Lexa Woods will always be the one in her heart. When she realizes this, the tears sting the back of her eyes and she sniffs again. She missed her chance the minute Lexa got on that plane.

“Even if you’re right,” Clarke says, voice shaking, “there’s nothing I can do about it. Finn already asked me to marry him and Lexa’s on the other side of the world and—”

“Wait, back up.” Octavia seizes Clarke’s arm and shakes her head. “Did you just say that Finn asked you to marry him?”

“Shit. Uh, yeah. I guess I did,” Clarke admits, her face heating up. No use hiding it now.

Octavia’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out from their sockets. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she demands. “What the hell did you say?”

Clarke’s head throbs as she says, “I already said yes” through gritted teeth. Octavia’s mouth drops and for once, she seems speechless. There are plenty of things to describe Octavia Blake but speechless isn’t one of them. And Clarke knows that she has every right to be.

“Are you insane?” Octavia demands. “You’re not even in college yet!”

“I’m not going to college,” Clarke snaps and the truth seems to be spilling out of her in waves, because she continues, “Lexa wants me to go to Stanford with her but I never sent the application letter. Mom wants me to go to some stupid, prestigious Med school but I can’t because hospitals remind me of my father and I don’t want to spend another minute inside one. Finn asked me to marry him during the Homecoming Dance and I said yes, because I thought—God, I thought that Lexa loved Costia so much that she’d never love me back.”

There are hot, angry tears spilling from her eyes and her chest feels so twisted that it’s a miracle she can still breathe properly. Octavia’s fingers are clutching at her arm, hard enough to leave marks but Clarke isn’t thinking about any of that. She’s thinking of all the mistakes she’s made and how she might have to spend the rest of her life making up for them.

Octavia’s jaw tightens. “Clarke…” she starts to say, shock and pity written all over her face.

“I know I fucked up,” Clarke relentlessly continues, “I fucked it all up and I can’t take any of it back.”

“Yes, you can,” Octavia seethes, “Why are you still with Finn, if you don’t love him the way you love Lexa?”

“Because I can’t break his heart,” Clarke answers bitingly, “I can’t do that to him, especially since he nearly destroyed his friendship with Raven to be with me. He’s done so much for me and even now, he’s already looking for jobs so that we can move in together and start our lives. I can’t leave him. He’ll hate me forever.”

“If you don’t leave him, then you’ll hate yourself,” Octavia tells her.

“Lexa might love me,” Clarke says, after a moment or two, “but she doesn’t love me enough to stay. I’m with Finn because he stayed and that’s better than nothing.”

//

“Where are you from?” Anya asks, sliding a shot of whiskey towards Lexa. The other woman looks undeniably pretty at the moment, hair pulled back from the sharp angles of her face, even sharper eyes glinting with mischief. She tips her glass against her lips with the kind of sexiness that sends an ache through Lexa’s navel.

Lexa focuses her attention on the surface of the table, trying to still her rapidly beating heart.

“I’m from nowhere,” she says. She doesn’t want to talk about her hometown or her family, which obviously extends to Clarke so she settles to change the topic. “What about you? Do you usually knock on your neighbor’s day and invite them for a drink?”

“Only the pretty ones.”

Lexa grins. Smooth, she thinks to herself. She takes a quick sip of her whiskey and makes a face at the taste, letting out a guttural groan when it hits the back of her throat. Anya is watching her carefully across the table so she looks around the bar, where most of the customers are either guys looking mournfully at their tall glasses or more guys just sharing a drink. There are even fewer ladies around, but Lexa can spot a few of them huddled in corners with their boyfriends.

“Getting bored of me already?” Anya asks, and Lexa snaps her gaze towards her again.

“No, sorry,” she mutters, “I—uh, I just remembered something.” Clarke’s eighteenth birthday—Clarke’s bright, blue eyes; Clarke’s heavy, intoxicating breathing; Clarke’s warm mouth against her own. She roughly shakes her head and clenches her fist around the glass.

Anya notices. “Sounds like an ex,” she remarks.

“She wasn’t,” Lexa grimly says, too lost in her own thoughts to realize that Anya’s grin has widened at the pronoun, “Well, not technically. We didn’t date. We just—we were just something, that’s all.”

“She doesn’t sound like a something.” Anya leans in, still grinning. “Sounds more like an everything.”

Lexa shakes her head and takes another swing at the whiskey. The liquid burns through her throat like a river of lava and she coughs once or twice before her lungs subside.

“Her name’s Clarke,” Lexa states, feeling the sting of her tears behind her eyes. She looks away from Anya’s intuitive gaze, bottom lip curling, “And we’re not here to talk about her. We’re here so that you can chat my ear off about how your day at work was or how my day at work was, which I don’t have yet, because I’m in college attending Stanford. I’m here because I wanted to explore the campus, and also because I’m in the debate team, the soccer team, and also an RA. But I’ve been stuck at the apartment for a month now because I can’t bear to talk to my dad on the phone and I can’t even send a text message to my best friend. How was your day?”

Anya is still smiling, which should infuriate Lexa but for some reason, it doesn’t. She’s been told that she hates everybody the minute she meets them, with the exclusion of Clarke, Costia and Lincoln and it seems that Anya has been added to that list as well.

She watches at the other woman orders for more shots and raises her eyebrows when Anya slides in another glass towards her.

“Tell me more,” she says.

Surprisingly enough, Lexa does.

//

Clarke is in the process of finishing a self-portrait when her mom suddenly bursts in through the doorway, eyes wild and angry, mouth twisted into a cruel scowl. Clarke swivels around in her chair, frowning as she tucks in a pencil behind her ear.

“Uh, you can come right in?” she says, trying not to sound too baffled.

“We need to talk,” Abby says, her arms crossed as she sizes up her daughter. Five years ago, her stress lines weren’t noticeable and she smiled a lot, often even, but with the death of her husband and her daughter’s party antics coming to a boiling point, she looks well beyond her years.

The fact settles guiltily at the pit of Clarke’s stomach and she bites her lower lip as Abby continues, “You and I both agreed on a college. Stanford Medical School, remember? But after having not being informed of an acceptance letter for weeks now, I decided to have a recent chat with the college.” Clarke’s heart skips a beat and a feeling of dread slams its way into her bones. She feels like she’s going to puke. Her ears are ringing slightly.

Abby’s gaze hardens when she spits out the next words, “And they told me that no student of Clarke Griffin has ever sent an application letter. I asked them to check again but there are no records under your name. Care to explain that?”

“Mom, I—” Clarke swallows painfully. Her mouth is dry.

“When were you ever going to tell me?” Abby demands, tone biting and harsh. “Or were you ever going to tell me? Clarke, what happened? What made you decide not to go? Is this some sort of teenage rebellion phase that you’ve gotten yourself into—”

“It’s not that,” Clarke seethes but her fire is wasted because she doesn’t have an answer.

“Then why did you do this?” Abby sounds choked, heartbroken even and it shouldn’t hurt—it shouldn’t because Clarke has spent the last years hating everything her mother did and said, for moving on when she herself couldn’t do it—but the pain in her chest doesn’t loosen even in the slightest when she realizes that her mother is crying. “Why would you throw away a future you so desperately prepared for?”

“Because I don’t want it anymore!” Clarke yells out of pent-up frustration. Emotions she has so carefully pushed down in the past years have finally reached a boiling point and she feels like she’s sixteen all over again, angry, lost and full of grief that seems unyielding. Abby looks as if she’s been slapped in the face but Clarke doesn’t care—all she can feel right now is the pain of losing her beloved father. “The last time I wanted to go to college was when Dad was alive! And now that he’s gone, I can’t bear to walk inside a hospital or go to a class where the professors talk about saving someone’s life! Because what’s the goddamn point? He’s gone and he’s not coming back and the thought just makes me sick.”

“He would’ve wanted this for you,” Abby tells her fiercely. Her mouth is tense.

“You don’t know what he wanted,” Clarke spits, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries to take even breaths, “You don’t, and I know because he died trying to get to you. If you hadn’t asked for his help that night, he wouldn’t have gotten hit with that stupid truck!”

“Clarke—”

“He died because of you,” Clarke yells, “and here you are, moving on with Kane of all people. God, what is wrong with you?”

“Don’t try to pin all of this on me,” Abby snaps, “We are talking about your future and not about what happened to your father. That was an accident. You and I both know that—”

“My future?” Clarke repeats. She scoffs and reaches up to wipe away the tears from her eyes, “I just blew my future. I didn’t send my application letter. I don’t want to go to college. There’s nothing left.”

“You can’t say that,” Abby hisses. “I’m sure they can make an exception—”

“I don’t want it anymore,” Clarke angrily says through gritted teeth. She clenches her hands into fists and resists the urge to try and punch something. Her mother is looking at her as if she doesn’t recognize the person standing there.

They don’t say anything for the next few minutes. Clarke’s eyes are burning with her tears and her lungs feel as if they’ve been filled with acid. Everything in her body aches—and it’s not even a good, nostalgic ache—no, this is the kind of ache that makes you want to pull out your insides and try to find the reason why you’re feeling this way in the first place.

Finally, Abby says, with a hint of resignation, “And what about Lexa?”

That shocks Clarke long enough for Abby to grab hold onto this last piece of hope. “She’s waiting for you,” her mother says, “She’s been waiting an awful long time, don’t you think?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke tries to swallow the lump in her throat but ends up choking on it.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Abby murmurs, sounding defeated, “but I think you should tell her.”

This feels like a trap, so Clarke narrows her eyes and crosses her arms. “That’s it?” she asks snidely. “A few screaming matches and you’re suddenly okay with me not going to college?”

“I never said I was okay about your decision,” Abby says, looking tired and withdrawn, “and this isn’t finished. We’ll talk in the morning. Now go tell Lexa. I don’t think she’ll handle it too well.”

//

It takes a few more weeks but Anya finally catches Lexa off guard when they head back to their apartment after a night of heavy drinking. While in the middle of climbing the stairs, the older woman reaches for Lexa’s waist and kisses her hungrily, desperately even and Lexa’s drunk enough that she lets her.

It’s not everything she wants—far from it, actually—but it dulls the pain of losing Clarke so it’s enough.

//

Even though she promised she would, Clarke never tells Lexa about not going to college.

Instead, she ignores her mother and goes apartment hunting with Finn, who holds her close and laughs way too hard at her half-assed jokes. He tells her that he’s been in touch with a guy who can get her a job and that by next week, he’ll be working his ass off too. He tells her that they’ll be living their dream soon.

It’s not their dream, not really, but Clarke loves him too much to point out that it’s been his dream all along.

//

Lexa likes Anya. She doesn’t love her though. Not really, not the way she used to love Costia and the way she’ll always love Clarke. But Anya’s a good fuck and she’s been helping her a lot for the past few months. Already, Lexa’s had a tour of her campus and has all of her classes mapped out and ready to go. Everything has been dealt with accordingly, especially since she’s joined so many clubs on a whim. Her apartment is cleaned up and she’s already managed to have a full conversation with her dad on the phone, mouth spewing out apologies and excuses and I’m so sorry I never called.

Every time she calls her father though, she cannot help but want to ask about Clarke. They don’t talk about her but Lexa knows that the subject is just underneath the surface, ready to be pulled out and examined carefully. She doesn’t know if she can bear it but her father sighs, murmurs “I really miss you” and the pain is worth enduring.

A week before classes start, Lexa stares at Clarke’s contact on her phone with a mixture of trepidation and fear. It’s been months since they’ve last spoken to each other and Lexa’s last memory is of Clarke standing at the airport lobby, arms wrapped around her torso, holding the teddy bear with the words I love you Clarke Griffin written all over it. Lexa’s own teddy bear is lying at the bottom of her suitcase, forgotten and disregarded and Lexa hates herself for being such a coward when faced with her feelings.

She gets up from the couch and walks over to the said suitcase, where the only thing left inside is the teddy bear and a few shirts. She pulls out the stuffed animal and runs a hand against the words, feeling a burning ache in her chest when she remembers Clarke’s 18^th birthday all over again. Tears sting the back of her eyes and she lets out a shaky breath before dropping the teddy bear and pressing her palms against where the water has run across her cheeks. She stays like that for a few minutes before she looks back at her phone, at Clarke’s smiling, radiant face, at the beautiful blue in her eyes. And in those few moments, she makes a decision.

She presses the call button.

It rings for exactly three times before the operator says: “We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”

There’s a heavy weight in Lexa’s chest. She tries again but the message is still the same. She has lost Clarke’s phone number and hasn’t even realized it for the past few months.

“Jesus,” she mutters under her breath, feeling as if the weight of the world has simultaneously crashed into her shoulders. She throws the phone into the bed and slams her fist against the wall; the quick, momentary pain stunning her for a few short seconds. She tries to shake off the impending tears in her eyes but it’s not working and soon enough, she’s already started crying again.

“Stupid,” she scolds herself angrily, the word harsh and biting in her own ears. “You stupid girl.”

Not for the first time, she wonders why she ever let Clarke go in the first place.

//

Clarke gets a job at a coffee shop the same time classes start at Stanford. (Finn promises that the job at the tattoo shop is still reachable, but not at the moment.) She wakes up on that said day feeling sorry for herself, wanting nothing more than to be heading off to college rather than pulling an apron around her waist. But she’s made her choice and she’s going to have to live with it for the rest of her life.

(She doesn’t even have to wonder if she’s made the wrong decision or not; she knows that she did.)

The coffee shop is called Mount Café, which she thinks is stupid, but it’s a popular place and the pay is manageable. Raven and Octavia worked here two summers ago, when they were in dire need of money to pay off some debts, and they had a good time. Hopefully, Clarke will have the same experience.

She walks in on her first day with her hair tied in a bun and a wide smile plastered on her face. Her boss is a guy named Sinchel and he is awfully patient and friendly, teaching her what to do and how to mix coffees and etc. She’ll be working with two other people, a girl named Monroe and a boy named Sterling. They’re younger than she is but are more experienced.

Monroe puts her on cashier duty and Clarke obliges, tapping her fingers against the surface of the counter as she waits for the first customer of the day.

She checks her new phone for any messages from Finn when the bell at the door rings and somebody walks in.

“Hi, welcome to Mount Café, what can we do—” The words are rightfully wretched from her mouth when she realizes exactly who she is facing.

“Clarke?” Costia takes off the sunglasses she’s wearing and cheekily grins. Her hair has gotten shorter and her eyes have more light to them. She still wears her trademark floral dresses and Clarke can’t help but smile—because apparently, some things never change.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Costia continues, approaching the counter and setting her camera on the counter.

“My first day,” Clarke admits. She gestures to the camera. “I thought you were off to New Zealand.”

“I was,” Costia answers, still smiling, “but I got homesick. Decided to head back here and…familiarize myself with the old town that I grew up in. Photography is interesting, by the way. You get to look at things through different lenses and realize that things have never been the same.”

“Sounds amazing,” Clarke says, sounding wistful even to her own ears.

Costia nods. “What are you majoring in?”

Clarke tries not to let it show how much she hates being asked that question. Instead, she ducks her head and fiddles with the cupcake stand, biting her lower lip as she tries to find the words.

“I’m not focusing on college at the moment,” she answers, with a hint of bitterness in her tone.  

Costia seems surprised. “Oh,” she says, titling her head to the side, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just—Lexa was adamant about the two of you going to college together.”

“Lexa was adamant about a lot of things,” Clarke mutters, almost to herself but Costia hears her anyway.

“She was, wasn’t she?” Costia whispers. Then she leans back and blinks rapidly, almost as if the thought of her ex-girlfriend from high school still pains her. “Anyway, are we done reminiscing the past? Because I would really like a cup of cappuccino.”

Clarke grins. “Sure,” she says and she writes Costia’s name on the cup and hands it to Monroe for the drink to be made. When she turns back to the counter, the other girl is still standing there with her gaze focused on the necklace around Clarke’s neck, the one with Finn’s ring hanging against her skin.

“Did Lexa ever tell you?” Costia asks, her stare flickering back to meet Clarke’s eyes.

Clarke bristles. “Tell me what?” she questions, a hint of suspicion rising in her tone. During their last year of high school, Lexa hasn’t told her everything that had gone down in her life so Clarke doesn’t really know what Costia is talking about.

Costia nods, almost to herself. “I thought so,” she mumbles. Monroe comes around to hand her the cup and while Costia is rummaging her purse for the payment, Clarke remembers that she has a working mouth and says,

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s none of my business.” Costia waves off the question and sips her drink. “By the way, how are you and Finn? I see that you’re still going strong.” She eyes the ring again and Clarke resists the urge to rip it off from her neck.

Instead, she forces a smile and clenches her fist. “We’re okay.”

She tries to tell herself that Costia doesn’t mean to pry, that she’s just making friendly conversation, and that she just came back to this town to revisit old, fond memories. But then she sees the quiet determination in the other girl’s eyes and she’s suddenly not sure.

Costia hums under her breath and hands Clarke a few dollar bills. Then she picks up her camera and holds it up, carefully putting it around her neck so that she can pick up her bag and to-go drink.

“I’ll see you around, Griffin,” she says, her smile widening into a grin, “Tell Lexa I said hi.”

She walks away and Clarke feels a lot like she’s sixteen all over again, desperately wishing she was in someone else’s skin rather than her own.

//

Lexa gently stretches her back in order to reach the blaring alarm clock, her fingertips brushing lightly against Anya’s bare shoulder as she tries to hit the snooze button. The other woman softly stirs but quickly resumes sleeping when Lexa manages to shut the damn thing off. The only reason Anya manages to wake is when Lexa accidentally pushes the alarm clock to the ground, where it loudly crashes against the floor.

“Sorry,” Lexa mutters, laughing quietly when Anya just grumbles in response. “I have Lit next in thirty minutes.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to torture the damn alarm.”

Lexa rolls her eyes and gets off the bed, picking off the loose shirt she had hastily taken off the night before. Then she moves towards the kitchen, where she can already smell the coffee she’ll be making in a few minutes. However, before her fingertips can reach for her favorite mug, she hears a sound she never thought she’d hear ever again.

Costia’s ringtone.

She immediately turns to the source of the sound, discovering that her phone is hidden in the pocket of the skinny jeans she had hastily removed the night before. Her heart hammering loudly inside her chest, she moves achingly slow towards the item of clothing and reaches inside to pull out her phone.

It was their song. She can still remember the taste of Costia’s tears against her mouth during their last kiss and as she turns the screen over so that she can see the name (COSTIA bold and large, blinking like a motel sign in Vegas), she feels a rush of bittersweet memories wash over her; memories of flower crowns lying at the foot of her bed, Costia’s soft, gentle laugh as they shared inside jokes and hurried kisses pressed against the top of her head, kisses that had meant everything back then.

“Hi,” she says, when she finally accepts the call.

“Hi,” Costia answers on the other end. The background sounds noisy, like she’s in the middle of traffic and Lexa finds herself wondering where exactly her ex-lover is, and if New Zealand is as wonderful as she imagines it to be.

There is silence, but not an awkward one. During their relationship, Costia had been used to Lexa’s stoic nature and her short-worded answers and too serious tone. It’s comforting to know that some things haven’t changed. Costia knows how to wait things out.

“Why are you calling?” Lexa asks, straight to the point, as usual.

“I’m calling to ask one simple question,” Costia states, her voice flat. Lexa can hear her breathing steadily.

Suddenly, the atmosphere seems to have dropped a few degrees. Lexa doesn’t have an inkling on what the question could be, but based on the dread curling in her stomach, she knows that it isn’t good. She braces herself for the blow, for the tears and the screaming, for the pain and heartache that has faded but still lingers.

Then, unexpectedly—

“Did you—” Costia exhales a soft breath, “Did you ever tell her? Clarke.”

Lexa feels as if she’s been punched. All the air has been knocked out of her lungs and for several seconds, she stays crouched on the floor with the phone clutched tightly in one hand, feeling as if she’s eighteen all over again and saying goodbye to Clarke Griffin in hallway of an airport.

“No,” she answers, because she’s never known how to lie to Costia.

Costia is quiet. Lexa listens to the sounds of cars passing by on the other end, and for one selfish moment, she can pretend that she and Costia are on the road, their arms intertwined and their body warmth mingling in. She can pretend that this is senior year, and they still haven’t broken up, and she still doesn’t realize that she’s been in love with Clarke Griffin all along.

“I’ve got some bad news for you,” Costia suddenly whispers, and her tone isn’t flat anymore but filled with a conviction that seems to wake something inside Lexa.

“What is it?”

“Lex, Clarke isn’t planning to go to college anytime soon,” Costia says, “I know that you’ve been planning to go to the same college together but I just saw her today and she’s in a coffee shop, working her ass off. And that’s not even the worst part.”

Lexa has to force down mixed emotions rising in her chest as she holds onto the phone like it’s her lifeline and Costia’s voice is the only thing keeping her from drowning.

“The worst part,” Costia quietly whispers, her tone hushed, “is that she’s got an engagement ring around her neck.”