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Clarke Griffin has accepted that she will spend most of high school invisible to the general population. Sometimes being invisible is a blessing. Clarke’s never been particularly showy and she’s never really thrived on being the center of attention at any event. She doesn’t make a lot of noise, she has her group of friends to sit with at lunch, does well in most of her classes and for the most part spends any time not with her friends, or in class, holed away in the art classroom.
She just feels more comfortable away from the spotlight. At most of the gallery openings her art has been featured in its been easy to slip away into a corner and watch people admire her work. She gets good enough grades that her teachers don’t mind that she doesn’t participate in the class discussions. Her friends are loud enough to make up for her quiet nature, and Raven alone is brash enough for both of them and then some. So she gets away with a decent amount of anonymity
That being said…
This is still high school. And teenagers are still in the process of learning compassion and how not to be a huge dick to everyone who is even the least bit different.
So when a few guys who just got onto the football team think a good way to solidify their place in the social hierarchy is to yank out her earbuds as they pass and holler “Move, Paintstain !” and shove her out of their way. She’s not that surprised.
It takes her a minute to haul herself and her heavy backpack off the floor, but when she does she takes a minute to stare after them. It’s only like four of them (although with the way they stampeded her it felt like more) and they’re all dressed in their brand new green and white Grounders varsity jackets. Just to make sure she checks over her ripped jeans, white tee and cardigan to make sure she actually doesn’t have a paint stain. Clarke makes the decision to shake it off and keep walking to History class. The football players are sophomores at most, so it’s probably just the adrenaline at being picked for the team. This kind of thing never happens often.
In reality she’s really not that far down on the food chain. She’s friends with a good chunk of the popular kids, the ones who are smart and nice, and going places. Unfortunately, the kids who tend to do shit like that to girls like her are the ones who are below the popular kids on the social pyramid ...and trying to move up.
Clarke hustles a bit at this point because class starts in less than ten minutes and as she’s reviewing civil war facts in her head for the pop-quiz she just knows Mr. Kane is going to dish out, the double doors behind her open. The air shifts and Clarke is graced with a stunning sight.
Lexa. Woods. The whole hallway seems to turn as the Queen of Trigeda High saunters through with her entourage. Perfection incarnate glides through the halls in her cheer uniform. Long, tan, muscular legs stride and her short short swishes, drawing Clarke’s artist’s eye up to a sliver of skin below her top that shows a bit more with each step forward and begs to be painted (licked, touched). And her face .
Clarke has spent hours sketching that face. Plastering it onto every spare piece of paper she could find since she first saw in in the fifth grade the year Lexa transferred to Trigeda Elementary and summarily took over the school. Has studied Lexa herself. Longed for years to stroke a high cheekbone or run her fingers through glossy brown curls Pantene models would kill for. Memorized every word she said and move she’s made over the years with the devotion of a religious zealot.
Lexa is flanked by Anya and Ontari both equally flawless and intimidating. The slow motion entrance seems to slow even further and gorgeous green eyes cut over to Clarke. A small smile alights on full lips when she sees Clarke gaping.
She’s a bit like a deer in headlights. (If deer could drool and stand like an idiot). But before she can even be embarrassed by her blush the bell rings and the chaos separates her from the angel and her pompoms.
It’s not that Mr. Kane is boring. He isn’t, Clarke’s friends are just a little wild. Raven seems to be working on equations that have nothing to do with history or their chemistry class, which probably means something will explode far too close for Clarke’s liking in a matter of days, Lincoln and Octavia are bent over a piece of paper on the desk between them giggling and smiling goofily and Murphy is asleep, as per usual. And as Kane drones on and on, and she and Lincoln trade doodles of Lincoln the President in the back of the room, she manages to forget about the incident this morning
“Pssst, Griff”
She ignores the whisper coming from behind her and focuses on perfecting Abe Lincoln’s historically appropriate monocle.
“Pssssssssssssst-”
Clarke finally turns “What, Octavia?!”
Kane chooses this moment to take notice of the inattention of the back portion of the room “Ms. Griffin, do you have something to share with the class?”
“Um-” she gapes a bit, caught off guard.
He raises an eyebrow waiting. The class starts snickering and she notices a group of girls in a cluster of desks by the door lean over to whisper to one another just loud enough for her to catch. “WOw didn’t know paintstain knew how to do a blowfish impression”
It’s not like it hurts per say, but it’s the second time she’s heard that particular little nickname and now she’s wondering if it’s a thing to call her that now. Clarke really hopes not.
Kane turns back to the board and continues.
Octavia leans in to whisper a “sorry” settling back in her desk and awkwardly adjusting her cheer skirt.
The rest of her classes go by smoothly and she goes through the day with only minimal paranoia. For the first time in a while she starts to notice certain groups of people eyeing her with smirks that say they know a joke she’s not privy to. And its stupid because it isn’t most people, hell its not even many people. Its groups like Nia and her cronies who are still sore because they didn’t make the cheer squad again and are as insecure as anybody, or its Miller and his friends who definitely don’t have the GPA for college but will probably go for football anyway. Losers.
She manages to get through English and only zones out while staring at Lexa twice, a personal best.
Lexa is just so... so. Her smooth low voice while arguing the significance of Pearl as a symbol for Hester Prynne’s passion and adultery is mesmerizing. Clarke is unashamedly entranced. So much so that she doesn’t realize class is ended and she’s eye level with a short pleated skirt.
“Chasing clouds, Griffin?” amused green eyes stare down at her and she’s about to answer, when the girl Clarke recognizes as the one who called her paintstain in history loops her arm through Lexa’s and says “Lex, c’mon you said you’d watch my sideline stunts during free period” paying Clarke exactly 0 mind.
Lexa seems irritated and opens her mouth to say something, but Clarke smiles softly up at her and says “Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you later”
As she’s dragged away by the other girl, Lexa waves back at her, and that’s enough to get Clarke through to lunch.
She finished it. Finally, Her art project for the spring charity auction is finished and it only took her a month and a half. Unfortunately, it’s also due at the gallery tonight and Ms. Sydney is incredibly anal about locking the art room at a certain time so Clarke will just have to take it with her to lunch and her last class. Wet.
She carefully maneuvers through the cafeteria holding the painting flat and away from her body. Clarke’s too focused on not ruining her hard work to notice an object flying at her. She only hears “Hey, Painstain, catch”
But nothing happens. A tan, long fingered hand reached out to snatched the apple that had been tossed Clarke’s way, and the head cheerleader attached to it looks livid . The cafeteria is silent.
Lexa saunters behind Clarke in full view of the school and wraps an arm around her waist pulling her against her front. “That looks great, babe.” she says peering over Clarke’s shoulder at the painting of the forest and two silhouettes that may or may not be them standing among the glowing flowers and stars. She presses a quick kiss to her cheek and takes a moment to smirk at the blush that blooms there. Remembering herself, she brings her head up to glower at the small group now standing slack jawed who had tried to humiliate her quiet girlfriend and were about to get a lot more than they bargained for.
“Who. Threw. That.”
Silence. No one wants to step forward until a brave little sophomore speaks up “It was just a joke-”
“Wrong answer.” Lexa snaps. Clarke gets it now, why so many people call her calm, sweet girlfriend the Commander. It’s so different to how she is with Clarke but now she can see it and frankly it's kind of a turn on. Lexa continues in a dry monotone that conveys her boredom with their existence “Nia, Echo, Gianna, you can forget about Squad for as long as I’m Captain. And as for the rest of you.” her gaze narrows sharply “Touch her again and I will find a way to make your life here hell. Now disperse. ”
No one dares argue with The Head Cheerleader, Prom committee head and the student body president and the cafeteria slowly goes back to the consistent hum of chatter.
“Well I guess it;s not a secret anymore” Clarke murmurs
Lexa looks stricken suddenly “I’m sorry, I know we said-”
She laughs “Lex, it’s fine we’re just going to catch so much shit from our friends for not telling them first” she says with an eye roll.
From their table Clarke’s friends look on with a mix of glee and shock at the display. Raven gives an enthusiastic thumbs up
“Wanna put it off for a bit?” Lexa looks mischievous
“What did you have in mind Ms. Woods?”
Lexa drags her to the school greenhouse and proceeds to press her against the greenhouse wall and capture her bottom lip between her own kissing her sweetly and tangling her fingers into golden strands tugging slightly. Clarke, never one to be outdone flips their positions easily biting down gently on her pulse point. “Clarke?” Lexa gasps out
“Yes, love?” she answers in between nips.
Lexa tries to continue, but gets distracted when Clarke finds a particularly sensitive patch behind her left ear and starts painting it purple and blue with her lips and teeth. She eventually remembers herself “Does that- Does that happen often?” she asks between gasps.
Clarke detaches herself to stare quizzically up at her girlfriend “What?”
“What happened in the cafeteria,” Lexa says brows furrowing as she regains her breath “Does it happen often?”
“Oh,” she says “Well, yeah sometimes I guess? It’s not a big deal though”
Her girlfriend actually looks affronted at that “ Not a big deal?? Clarke, they nearly ruined a painting you’ve spent weeks on! How is that not a big deal?”
“ I could have redone it…” she mumbles
“Hey. No. Look at me.” Lexa says grabbing Clarke's chin “I want you to tell me if that happens again”
“Lexa I don’t need you to help me I-”
“I want to.”
Clarke starts at that “Really?”
Long fingers brush along her face and green eyes look hazy with affection, and Lexa replies “ You’re my girlfriend, Of course I want to beat the shit out of anyone who looks at you sideways.”
Clarke smiles at that “I don’t need your help, really, I can fight my own battles...but” she pulls Lexa’s hips into hers pressing her more firming into the wall when her girlfriend pouts “You were pretty sexy when you were defending my back there, Commander”
Lexa’s eyes flutter and she wraps her arms around Clarke’s neck “Really?”
“Really” Clarke says dipping her head down to Lexa’s once more.