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Curls framed carefully carved cheekbones as Lexa stared at the swirling, strung together lines of letters in her hands, trying desperately to form them into logical words and understandable sentences. She was woefully unprepared for her first political science exam of the semester, and she had every intention of kicking Anya’s ass when they sparred at the gym later.
Why she bothered listening to her roommate was beyond her at this point. It was Anya who insisted that she needed a night to relax. It was Anya who’d promised they would only go out for a beer or two. It was also Anya who bought several rounds of shots and hailed a taxi at two in the morning when they were both stumbling far too much to conquer the three block walk home.
Now, however, it was Lexa who was reviewing her notes in the margins with unprecedented dedication and it was Lexa who was entirely unaware of her surroundings. It was also Lexa who felt the ground disappear beneath her feet before it reappeared beneath the whole of her body, her cheek settling ungracefully against the still wet-with-dew grass of the early morning.
“Are you okay?”
Shit. As she stood up, untangling her foot from the other person’s backpack straps, she brushed off her clothing as though her hands could dry the fabric. Bending over to gather her textbook and notes, she felt a careful gaze following her movements, and straightened up to meet bright blue eyes laced with concern. “Hurts, but I will survive.”
“Well, since you’re apparently not gravely injured, and I have you here –“ The blonde trailed off, a smile overtaking her features as she thrust a bright blue flier in Lexa’s direction. “We’re starting up a campus organization for people who identify as non-heterosexual. I was trying to come up with a name, but there were too many letters to incorporate.”
Lexa stared down at the sheet of paper, skimming it for several seconds before registering the fact that her exam was in less than fifteen minutes and she ought to be skimming her notes instead. “I appreciate it, but I really don’t care to sit in a room with a social justice army of bi-phobic lesbians who are more apt to complain about falling in love with their straight best friends than any actual issues within the community. It was still nice to meet you though.” Lexa returned the flier to the stack in the other girl’s arms and flipped her textbook back open as she turned to walk away.
“My name is Clarke,” she heard called after her, and despite knowing she only had a short amount of time before she needed to have memorized no less than fifty different case outcomes, she twisted on her heel to face the girl – Clarke – once more.
"Lexa," she nodded, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of her mouth before she turned again, trying to memorize the happenings of Gibbons v. Ogden.
Lexa quickly maneuvered her way through the tall stacks of literature, green eyes flickering over the numbers of the Dewey Decimal system posted at the end of each row of shelves. She was searching for the last book she needed to finish her political science paper, the final piece to pull together her conclusion and hopefully make up for her abysmal performance on her exam a few weeks prior.
She passed by several tables, each quieter than the next, until at the end of the library, nearest the bookshelves she was searching out, she found a group of friends, loudly debating the pros and cons of the legalization of marijuana.
“O, I think you’re forgetting what happened that time we all accidentally ate Monty’s pot brownies.”
“I’m not forgetting big brother, trust me. You climbed onto the roof in your boxers, wearing a blanket as a cape, and declared yourself king while chanting ‘whatever the hell we want’ until Raven talked you down.”
“The economic advantages should be considered Bellamy,” a third voice joined, this one much softer than the others. Lexa silently appreciated this group member as she scanned the spines of the books in front of her, trying desperately to concentrate.
A second female joined the sea of auditory madness, though this one she felt acquainted with. “Says our resident ‘recreational agriculture specialist.’” Lexa shook off the feeling of familiarity and pulled the book from the shelves, focusing her attention anywhere but in the direction of laughter that pushed beneath her sweater and settled itself against her breast bone.
She felt wood connect with her shin roughly, and knew the contact place would bruise by the end of the day as she fell to her knees, cursing underneath her breath. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Lexa waved the other person off, forcing herself into a standing position and ignoring the ache in her lower leg each time she put weight on it. “Lexa?”
“I’m fine, Clarke,” she immediately replied, nodding as if to confirm her own statement. “You really ought to be careful though.” She gestured to the chair, the cause of her second tumble when interacting with the blonde, and for the second time, she turned her back and walked away from a worrying gaze and a curious woman.
“Jasper, I think you’re vastly overestimating Clarke’s coordination.”
Jasper looked down at the skateboard beneath the blonde’s feet and shrugged. “She’s always complaining that the art annex is on the other side of campus and that she’s always late.”
Clarke’s features scrunched indignantly as she felt her body wobble unsteadily, even in her stationary position. She wasn’t sure if she was more frustrated with Jasper, for implying that she complained too often, or with her body for betraying her before she even made an attempt at moving on the four wheels she was wildly distrustful of.
“If you two wouldn’t mind, could you save this little lover’s quarrel for later and teach me how not to fall off of this fucking death trap?” The pair immediately began instructing her simultaneously, in great detail, purposefully shouting over one another so they could be heard. It all became a swirling vortex of bend your knees but not too much, and make sure you keep your balance centered that buzzed in her ears, until she could no longer differentiate their words. They began arguing over whether she should wait and start on a longboard, because it would be easier, or if teaching her now would possibly work. Clarke ignored them both and settled her left foot as firmly as she could manage on the board and pushed off with her right, pumping her fist victoriously when she didn’t immediately fall on her face. The ball of her foot connected with the ground a second time, increasing her speed slightly, but not enough to really make a difference in her speed versus walking.
She glanced backward, a mistake in hindsight, and her gaze settled on Jasper and Monty’s confused, but proud expressions. Pushing off her third time, the final one before she settled on coasting, her entire body stopped abruptly while the skateboard continued along on the sidewalk. She fell forward, the car door she hit moving with her momentum, and she heard a gruff oomph from whoever was on the other side. Her acceleration wasn’t deterred by the solid weight of the door however, and she fell on top of a strong body, letting out a groan when she finally stopped moving. The person beneath her wasn’t moving and her heart jumped into her throat until she looked down at who exactly she was face to face with.
“You know Clarke, you seem to make it a habit of knocking me to the ground.” Green eyes flickered playfully, giving away Lexa’s lack of anger much more than the slight smile that pulled at the corner of her lips.
“It’s completely accidental, I promise. If I wanted you to fall for me, I’d be a lot smoother.”
Lexa chuckled, and Clarke felt it resonate through her own abdomen, sending shockwaves along her body. “Based on our encounters so far, I don’t believe that you possess the ability to be ‘smooth,’ Clarke. Now, not that I’m not enjoying this, but I would appreciate if you’d kindly remove yourself from my body, given that I have a criminal justice class in ten minutes that I would rather not miss.”
Clarke rolled off of the other girl, brushing herself off to hide the flush of her cheeks and her inability to come up with a witty retort. She watched as Lexa did the same, gathering her things before turning to walk away, at which point Clarke yelled her name a bit too loudly.
The blonde ran up, picking a stray leaf from Lexa’s curls, grinning as she flicked it to the sidewalk. “I figured you wouldn’t want to walk into class looking like you slept in the woods.”
That small smile crossed Lexa’s features a second time and she pushed an even smaller laugh out of her lungs, ducking her chin to her chest before meeting Clarke’s eyes. “I’ve had worse. Goodbye, Clarke. It was nice running into you again.” The obvious pun was woven into Lexa’s irises, though her expression gave nothing away; Clarke stared as the girl walked away until Monty and Jasper returned with the skateboard, breathing heavily and checking her for injuries.
“I totally understand if you don’t want to try again,” Monty sputtered, seeing the angry bruise forming along Clarke’s elbow.
“No,” she declined, shaking her head in rejection of the idea almost immediately. “It seems pretty useful. Let’s try again.”
Every inch of Lexa’s body buzzed pleasantly, the alcohol flooding her cerebellum and making her normally, previously it seemed , movements less graceful. That did not, however, stop her from embracing the lightness in her limbs and closing her eyes to allow this moment of reprieve to move through her body. Her hips swayed as the bass within the house pulsed with her own heart. She had conquered her finals, acing each and every one, given that thankfully, Anya was capable of focusing on academia when she wasn’t focused on getting Lexa to “let loose.”
She’d started the night the same way she found herself now, though earlier, one hand was tangled loosely with Anya’s and her head was completely clear. Several hours later, Anya was nowhere to be found, and Lexa was quite sure that no matter how simple the question, she would be unable to provide any pseudo-eloquent response. She took comfort in the warmth of the bodies around her after months of a self-imposed exile, unconcerned when one pressed up against her for longer than a few moments, matching her movements before moving on.
She felt another mold itself against her back, a small hand resting against her abdomen as the arm attached to it held her waist to keep her from running off. She hadn’t the slightest intention to do so. Instead, she shifted backwards slightly, connecting more of their bodies and subtly increasing the pressure her hips were producing against the firm form behind her.
Lexa felt a strong, sure torso press against her spine before lips brushed against her neck on their way to her ear. “I didn’t knock you down this time.”
“The night is still young, Clarke.” Lexa turned around to face the other girl, all flushed cheeks and dilated pupils and dangerously swinging hips, and smiled – a wide, genuine smile that sent warmth plummeting to the pit of Clarke’s stomach.
“You’re really beautiful when you actually smile.”
Lexa bit her bottom lip, a chuckle tickling her throat. “You’re rather attractive yourself, when you aren’t tripping me with your bag or slamming your chair into my shin or –“ She was cut off by lips pressing against hers tentatively, hands quivering at Lexa’s hips as Clarke waited for a response of some sort.
Lexa, perpetually logical Lexa, could have pulled away. She could have come up with a hundred reasons why they shouldn’t be kissing in the middle of a dance floor packed with sweaty undergrads celebrating the end of finals. She could have shaken her head, apologized, and run in the opposite direction of the girl she knew very little about, but instead, her hand wove itself into Clarke’s hair and she pulled the girl just that much closer. She hummed against lips that tasted like salt and beer and the slightest hint of mint, and ran her hands over the curves of Clarke’s body, memorizing every valley and peak.
When she did pull away, it was only to rest her forehead against Clarke’s and murmur out a few words that had them both back at her apartment after a torturous five minute walk. And it was when she’d locked her bedroom door behind her, to ensure Anya wouldn’t barge in at god knows what hour, she felt Clarke’s body connect with hers for a fifth time, pushing her onto the mattress and pinning her there.
“You know Clarke, if you continue knocking me down, eventually I might actually fall.”
Clarke shook her head, bubbles of laughter breaking through as she leaned forward to press their lips together a second time that night before deigning Lexa’s pun worthy of a response. “That was kind of the plan.”