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“You have paint on your fingers.”
Clarke pulls away and Lexa watches as her nose crinkles, eyes narrowing even as a smile plays at the corners of her swollen lips. Her gaze is soft with affection and the ends of one of her braids tickles Lexa’s cheek when she leans back.
“Is that really what you want to say to the girl who’s making out with you?”
“It’s distracting,” Lexa draws up their hands from where they are tangled together at their sides and brushes her thumb tenderly over the flaking blue paint covering her girlfriend’s index finger.
“Distracting enough to stop me from doing this?” Clarke crowds against her again and Lexa’s eyes widen, darting up when Clarke presses her back into the bookshelf, their bodies close. Her lips skate over Lexa’s jawline, a ghosting touch and Lexa’s head falls back, barely catching the groan that trips out of her throat.
Clarke’s laugh is soft and husky in her ear and she feels the flush climbing up her neck and settling in her cheeks.
“No,” Her voice is strangled, “no, I guess not.”
“Didn’t think so,” Clarke presses a kiss to the spot beneath her ear and Lexa’s legs tremble when they are interrupted by the warning bell sounding through the library.
This time she can’t catch her groan and Clarke is grinning when she pulls away to meet Lexa’s eyes again.
“Why do you look so happy?” Lexa grouches, scowling as Clarke pushes away and bends to collect her backpack, discarded on the floor beside them.
“I have algebra,” Clarke shrugs and Lexa feels her lips tilt up into an unwilling smile as her girlfriend blushes, suddenly shy.
She crosses her arms, letting her eyes lazily track Clarke’s movements. “And?”
“I like algebra, okay?” Clarke is still blushing, flustered as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She catches sight of Lexa’s grin and huffs, “What? Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not,” Lexa hooks her fingers into the belt loops on Clarke’s jeans and the blonde allows herself to be pulled closer again, her hands resting on Lexa’s shoulders. “You’re adorable.”
Clarke fights her smile, ducking her head and grumbling, “I like algebra, leave me alone.”
Lexa’s fingers fit beneath her chin and Clarke looks up willingly. “I like you.”
She rolls her eyes, hitting gently at Lexa’s shoulder, but there is a heat to her cheeks that makes Lexa smile. “You’re a sap.” She reels in, presses a chaste kiss to Lexa’s lips and then inches out of her grasp. Lexa watches, reluctant to leave their dark corner, as Clarke hitches her backpack more firmly onto her shoulders. When Clarke catches her staring, she doesn’t look away and Clarke bites back her smile. “Come on, we should get to class.”
“You just don’t want to be late to algebra,” Lexa jibes, playfully and Clarke watches her with a raised eyebrow as she grabs her backpack.
“Of course I don’t,” She hesitates, looking suddenly shy again and Lexa waits patiently as she gathers the courage to speak. “Hey, I was wondering…” Her eyes flicker up and Lexa gives her a small, reassuring smile, reaching out to tangle their fingers together and squeeze softly. “I have a chess tournament this weekend. It’s the regional championships… I know it’s kind of nerdy but I was wondering…”
“I’d love to come,” Lexa leans in and places a quick kiss to her cheek, squeezing her fingers again.
“Really?” Clarke’s eyes light up and Lexa feels as if she could be swallowed by them. “Thank you!” She throws her arms around Lexa’s neck and Lexa curls her arms around her waist, nose pressing into her neck to breathe in the soft, candied scent she knows so well.
They step out of the library together and when their fingers separate Lexa’s heart chills slightly.
“So,” Clarke glances over to where Wells and Raven stand, fiercely debating quantum mechanics. “I’m going… that way.”
“And I’m going that way,” Lexa cocks her head to where she knows Anya, Lincoln and Octavia will be waiting, letterman jackets tossed over their shoulders or tied around their waists and lounging against their lockers.
“Call me later?” Clarke eyes her hopefully and when Lexa nods she beams, disappearing into the crowd. Lexa watches her weave her way through the students until she’s gone.
Her friends smile, pat her on the back and toss the football her way when she joins them and she gives them a grin back, still glowing from her time with Clarke. Lincoln gives her an odd smile, his gaze searching, but it’s Anya who claps her on the back and says, readily.
“Finish your assignment, nerd?”
“Assignment?” She’s still distracted by the knowing look that Lincoln is giving her and barely catches herself from spilling out the truth. “Oh, shit yeah. Yeah I did.”
“You fall over a hurdle during practice?” Octavia tilts her head. “Got concussion?”
Lexa rolls her eyes, holding out her hands for Octavia to throw the ball her way. “And leave a space on the track team open for you, rookie? You wish.”
—
“Okay, okay we have to stop,” Clarke pushes against her chest, still gasping for breath and Lexa’s laugh is hoarse. She rests her head against Clarke’s shoulder, grateful for the shade of the bleachers in the blistering sun. She’s sweating in her track uniform, her skin slick and Clarke’s hot breath against her neck is not helping, but she can’t bring herself to pull away.
“Why?” She chases Clarke’s lips, but the blonde only allows her one quick kiss before she pulls away again. “Clarke.”
Her girlfriend laughs at her whine, pressing back on her shoulder to ease them away from each other. Expression serious, she explains, “We have to get back, or we’ll be caught. Your team aren’t going to believe you were in the bathroom much longer.”
“My team will live,” Lexa protests, leaning in, but her lips meet Clarke’s upturned palm and she glances away, cringing.
“My decathlon team won’t,” Clarke laughs and pushes her reading glasses up her nose, the pale, heavy frames circling her eyes.
“Tell Wells that you were otherwise engaged,” Lexa’s fingers circle around her waist, but Clarke isn’t as easily distracted.
“We have to practice, and so do you,” Clarke glances back through the slits in the bleachers, her eyes nervously finding the green and yellow clad track team milling around.
“Come round tonight?” Lexa pleads and Clarke eyes her, her expression soft.
“I have a quiz to study for,” She says, uncertainly and Lexa hurries to answer.
“I’ll help you study,” At Clarke’s arched eyebrows, she insists, “No really, it’s for Archer’s history class isn’t it?” Clarke nods reluctantly and her eyes light up. “I’ve already done it.”
“I don’t want you to tell me the questions Lex!” Clarke looks affronted at the suggestion, “That would be cheating.”
“What if,” Lexa’s hands snake around her waist again, drawing her close and Clarke settles happily into her embrace, despite her earlier protests. “I just point you in the right direction? Tell you what to study?”
Clarke lets out a rueful breath, smiling slightly, “Fine.” She leans in and brushes Lexa’s lips with a soft kiss, but the moment Lexa relaxes she slips from her arms, breaking away.
“Hey!” Lexa pouts, eyes snapping open and Clarke laughs, tossing her braids over her shoulder.
“Later, Woods.”
—
“Hey, Lexa!”
“Shit,” She tears herself away from Clarke’s lips, pulling away so violently that her head collides with the cubicle door, sending a throbbing, spiralling pain across her skull. She clenches her teeth against a groan, doubling over and pressing her hands against her skull. Clarke’s hands run soothingly over her shoulder and she presses Lexa into her stomach, half to comfort her, half to muffle the noise of her pained grunts.
“Lexa! I know you’re in here!” Anya’s voice comes again.
“Lex,” Clarke whispers and when she manages to drag her head up the girl is chewing anxiously on her lip, glancing at the door.
“Yeah!” Lexa’s voice is strangled when she calls out, “I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Hurry up,” Anya grouches, “I want to get home and you’re taking forever in here.”
“Sorry,“ With Clarke’s help, she clambers to her feet. Her voice drops to a whisper and she gestures Clarke behind the stall door. “Hide there.”
She inches out of the cubicle, trying not to rub at her head and studiously ignores Anya’s gaze as she washes her hands.
“What were you doing in there?” Anya pushes away from where she’s lounging against the hand dryers which have been broken for months.
“Sorry, got distracted on Instagram,” Lexa shrugs, her eyes fixed to her hands and there is a beat of silence, fraught with tension, before Anya says.
“Okay, let’s go,” She pauses at the door, looking back at where Lexa is wiping her hands against her jeans. “By the way, you have lipstick on your cheek.”
Lexa’s eyes dart up to the mirror and she blushes brightly when she spies Clarke’s candy pink lipstick smeared against her skin.
—
16:02
you could have told me about the lipstick
16:03
But the colour suited you so well ;)
—
“Ah Clarke,” Lexa’s mom stops in the doorway, smiling widely at where Clarke is sat up in Lexa’s bed, her textbooks in her lap. Her daughter lounges beside her, flicking through some brightly annotated notes, but her eyes dart up when her mother appears at the door and Clarke watches on in amusement as Lexa colours brightly. “It’s so nice to see you dear.”
She steps inside to place the laundry basket on Lexa’s desk chair, folding up clothes to slide into drawers.
“Hi Mrs Woods,” Clarke smiles angelically, ignoring the way that Lexa rolls her eyes. “Nice to see you too.”
“How have you been? We haven’t seen you for at least a few days,” Lexa’s mom gives them both a slightly sardonic smile and it’s Clarke’s turn to flush.
“Fine, thank you. How about you?”
“Just fine, dear,” Her mom piles a few towels on top of each other and turns to look at them properly. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“I don’t think so,” She grimaces apologetically, “I promised my mom I’d be home to eat with her tonight.”
“That’s okay,” Mrs Woods shakes her head, gathering the empty laundry basket in her arms, “But I have some chocolate chip cookies downstairs, I’ll box some up for you. How are your parents?”
“Mom’s fine, dad’s doing a bit better,” Clarke gives a half-hearted shrug and feels Lexa’s fingers squeeze softly at her knee.
“Yes,” Lexa’s mom’s expression softens, “I’m so glad to hear that the tumour is in recession. Please let us know if you need anything, shall I get Lexa to drop by another casserole?”
“Mom,” Lexa arches an eyebrow, “Mr Griffin has been in the hospital for months, they’re not suffering some sort of crisis.”
Clarke nudges her so hard that it takes Lexa’s elbow out from where she’s leaning on it and she faceplants the pillow with an annoyed oomph.
“Another casserole would be wonderful, thank you Mrs. Woods.”
“Clarke,” The older woman pauses in the doorway, her voice mock stern when she reprimands, “I’ve told you to call me Evalyn before.”
“I know,” Clarke gives a sheepish smile, “Sorry, I’ll try to remember.”
“It’s okay dear, I’ll box up those cookies.” She disappears behind the door, swinging it shut behind her and Lexa lifts her face from the pillow, glowering at Clarke resentfully.
“It’s annoying how much she adores you.”
Clarke laughs, preening a little, “what can I say, I’m the perfect girlfriend material.”
“Be careful,” Lexa grumbles, “She’s already picking out china patterns.”
There is a moment of silence as her words sink in and Clarke watches as horror flashes across her face and she scrambled for something to say.
Clarke swoops in before she can manage it, dipping down to kiss her quickly. “I wouldn’t mind that.” She promises, softly and Lexa’s smile is enough to light up the whole street.
—
Clarke drops a note on her lunch tray as she walks past. She grabs it before anyone can see, folding it up in her palm and when everyone is distracted by the guy across the cafeteria trying start a dance off, she unfolds it under the table to read.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
Her smile is so wide that Anya asks her if she’s high.
—
The grass of the football field is prickly beneath them, but the summer air is so warm and the soft lips above hers are enough to make her forget the uncomfortable ground. Lexa smells like sunshine and pinewood and vanilla, addictive, and her skin is so soft and sunkissed that Clarke can’t stop herself from pressing soft kisses to her neck, even when Lexa gently rolls away. Clarke follows her, pressing frantic kisses. She feels as if she may explode if she can’t be close to Lexa, feel her body and her warmth, but Lexa is laughing softly beneath her, pushing her gently away and she finally blinks upon her eyes to see that Lexa’s hair is rumpled, her dungarees skewed.
“What?” She asks breathily, her eyes fixed on Lexa’s swollen lips.
“Nothing, I just,” Lexa is still breathing heavily, “if we don’t stop now… this isn’t where I wanted to do this for the first time.”
Clarke blinks, slowly coming back to herself, and the ground feels abruptly rocky beneath her, and she’s aware of the deserted stands and faraway, darkened school building.
Her cheeks heat, “Oh yeah, I guess not.”
“Soon,” Lexa promises, inching closer to kiss her with a soft sort of desperation that makes Clarke ache.
“Soon,” She echoes, when Lexa finally breaks away. Their faces are so close, bodies mirroring each other and Clarke is caught by the sight of Lexa’s eyes, dark emeralds shining out at her. “I love you.”
Lexa blinks at her, eyes widening with surprise and Clarke feels her stomach sink. Several sickening seconds pass before she scrambles away, sitting suddenly up to wrap her arms around her knees, breathing heavy and tears springing to her eyes.
“Clarke,” Lexa sounds lost behind her and Clarke scrubs at her eyes with the heels of her hands, shuddering with the effort of suppressing her tears.
“I’m sorry, shit,” Stupid, stupid, stupid. “I shouldn’t have said anything, you don’t have to-”
“No,” Lexa’s arms wrap firmly around her shoulders, pressing against her back and side. “I love you. Clarke, of course I love you, I sort of thought… we knew we loved each other.”
“You… you did?” Her eyes are glassy with tears when she turns to peer at her through the dark. “But… we’ve never said it.”
“I didn’t think we needed to,” Lexa grimaces, “That sounds so shit, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I hesitated, I was just surprised. I love you.”
“You do?” She feels helplessly happy, utterly elated and overwhelmed with joy. “Are you sure?”
“Sure?” Lexa lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head and reeling forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “Of course I am, don’t be silly.”
A spot of rain comes from above them and their eyes are drawn up just as the heavens open and rain begins to pour down on them. She lets out a soft squeal as it starts to soak through the light summer dress and Lexa laughs, startled, before clambering to her feet and holding her hand out to help Clarke up.
—
Octavia catches them sat together at the back of an empty classroom and startles to a stop, looking between them. Lexa tells her that they’re working on a project for their shared French class and when Clark readily agrees, Octavia nods and leaves them to it.
She thinks that’s the end of it.
“Hi Lexa.”
Her eyes dart up when she hears Clarke’s voice in the cafeteria. The blonde is stood beside her, dressed in washed out jeans and a striped shirt, her hair half falling from the braid Lexa had put it in when she met her at home before class, her reading glasses on the end of her nose. She’s holding a pile of books and folders in her hands, her lunch in another and is looking at the table nervously.
“Hi Clarke,” Lexa’s eyes fall on Clarke’s friends, who are sliding into the empty spaces made for them at their lunch table.
“I thought they could eat with us, as you and Clarke are doing a project together.” Octavia shrugs from her place at Lincoln’s side. “Raven and I were tight in elementary school, y’know.”
“Oh yeah?” Lexa glances up at where the dark haired girl has sunk into the seat next to Anya.
“Is it okay if I sit here?” Clarke gestures at the spare seat next to her and Lexa nods just a little too enthusiastically.
She places her books and folders on the table between them, unwrapping her bologna sandwiches that Lexa always wrinkles her nose at and takes a big bite. Lexa tries not to cringe.
—
“Hey Lexa,” Anya barges into her room without so much of a knock and Lexa glares up at her from her place in bed.
“Anya, what are you doing in here?” She tugs at her hair, straightening it out and smooths down the bed covers self consciously. “I’m not even dressed.”
“Your mom let me in,” Anya rolls her eyes, “we’ve known each other since we were six, you’re suddenly worried about me seeing your Spongebob pyjamas?”
“No I-” Lexa huffs irritably, crossing her arms and glowering at the girl. “I just would like some privacy.”
“What, were you…” Anya’s eyes widen and a gleeful smile lights up her face, “Oh my god, were you masturbating?”
“What?” Lexa sits straight up in bed, her cheeks a bright red, spluttering, “no! No! Anya, what the fuck?”
“You should just ask Clarke Griffin to the Homecoming dance y’know, rather than getting all flustered about her.”
There’s a grunting noise and Lexa coughs loudly, trying to ignore the searching gaze Anya fixes her with. “I’m not hung up on Clarke Griffin.”
“Sure,” Anya flops down on the desk chair and makes a face, twisting around to pull out a blue lacey bra. “Lexa what the hell is this?”
Lexa is still flushing darkly, “What does it look like?”
“Yeah… this cannot be yours.”
“It’s my mom’s,” Lexa snaps, pulling the covers further up under her arms. “She put it with my stuff by accident, okay?”
“Damn,” Anya holds up the lacey bra, whistling appreciatively, “your mom has good taste.”
“Anya! Get the hell out!”
“Okay well be quick, we have to be at a track meeting in half an hour,” Anya rolls her eyes, dropping the bra and letting the door bang shut behind her.
There is a tense moment of silence as Lexa listens to her pound down the stairs and then she lets out a long breath. “You can come out.”
Clarke’s smirking face appears from underneath the bed and she clambers out to flop back into bed and watch as Lexa gathers up her track gear.
“So you’re hung up on me, huh?” She is far too smug and Lexa rolls her eyes, groaning.
“No, I’m not.”
“What would make Anya think that?”
She looks anywhere but Clarke, “I may have been caught staring at you a few times.”
Clarke almost laughs her out of the room.
—
“You know, I have a door.” Clarke smiles at her from her place in front of her easel. Her hair is pushed behind her head, tied in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, one headphone dangling down her front. The sun shines in through the wide window of her bedroom and Lexa’s eyes take in the bed pushed against the wall, piled with clothing and the books fanned across her desk. Her glasses are perched in her hair and long legs are exposed by her shorts. She looks sun bathed and beautiful and Lexa is momentarily breathless.
“Hey, Lex?” Clarke waves a hand in her direction and Lexa blinks, coming back to herself.
“Sorry, I tried the door but no one answered.”
“So you decided to climb the tree outside my window, like the biggest high school cliché ever?” Clarke rolls her eyes, standing to hold out a hand and help her into her room. “You could have called me.”
“Wow,” Lexa hauls herself through the window, stumbling to get her footing beneath her and brushing the stray leaves off her shirt. “That’s the last time you get a big romantic gesture.”
Clarke laughs, leaning in to kiss her softly and Lexa happily wraps her in her arms, cradling her close. Her hands find soft curves and warm skin and Clarke’s kiss is tender and loving. Their lips make a funny noise as they move against each other and she feels Clarke giggle under her, feels her lips turn up into a smile against hers and can’t resist pulling away to giggle. They are still pressed together, foreheads touching and Clarke’s eyes flicker open to find Lexa watching her.
“You’re a huge dork.” Clarke informs her softly and Lexa beams.
They settle onto the bed together, exchanging homework tips and giggling kisses until, in a moment of quiet, Clarke asks, softly.
“What are you going to do about Homecoming?”
“Um,” Lexa stares down at where their hands are intertwined, sitting on the bed between them. “I guess I just wasn’t going to go.”
“Oh,” Clarke visibly deflates, “okay.”
“I mean,” Lexa swallows against her suddenly dry throat. “I don’t want to go without you.”
“I don’t want to go without you either,” Clarke smiles softly, tightening her fingers slightly. “Is there… I mean could we go as friends?”
“Clarke,” Lexa eyes her sadly, “I don’t want to do that.”
“Okay,” She deflates again and Lexa feels her gut twist with regret.
“I’m sorry I just… I don’t like lying as it is and it just seems like… too much.”
“No it’s okay, I understand.” Clarke’s gaze stays fixed to the white comforter beneath them and her voice cracks when she continues, “Do you think… we’ll ever be able to tell everyone?”
“I thought…” Lexa eyes her anxiously, “I thought we agreed to just wait. I mean, I know we’re both out but there’s a difference between telling friends and family and letting the whole school know.”
“I know, I know,” Clarke sighs softly and her head comes to rest against Lexa’s shoulders. “I just… I hate hiding how much I love you.”
“We can wait as long as you need,” Lexa pulls an arm around her, her heart aching and her eyes narrow when she feels Clarke tense under her touch. The blonde pulls away, frowning at her in confusion.
“It wasn’t me who wanted to wait, it was you.”
“What?” Lexa blinks at her, “no, it was you.”
“Lexa it was you! You told me when we made out in the bathrooms in sophomore year!”
“No it wasn’t!” She can feel herself becoming agitated. “It was you in freshman year, when we were in that home ec class together!”
Clarke stares at her, eyes wide with disbelief, “So you’re telling me… we’ve both been waiting for the other… for two years.”
“For fucks sake.”
—
They go to Homecoming together and it really isn’t a big deal. A few people look at them in surprise, but there’s no real shock at the sight of the debate team captain and the track champion going to Homecoming arm in arm. They walk in with the stream of other kids, Lexa in green and Clarke in blue and make their way across the gymnasium to where their friends wait.
Octavia lays eyes on them first and turns to smack at Raven’s arm, drawing her away from her conversation with Anya.
“I fucking told you! You owe me twenty bucks.”
—
