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“I’m sorry,” Lexa says, her breath escaping her in harsh pants. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Clarke brushes her thumb across her bottom lip, still pressed between Lexa and the wall. Lexa’s hands are still against the wall on either side of her head and her breath is warm across Clarke’s cheek when she exhales again.
“It’s not like we both haven’t been wanting to do that for a while,” Clarke says, but she doesn’t try to stop Lexa when she steps back, leaning against the wall opposite Clarke instead.
“That’s not,” Lexa starts only to stop herself, “I just meant I didn’t know if you were still angry at me.”
Clarke’s face tightens momentarily at the mention of it before she relaxes again.
“I’ve been working on letting that go,” Clarke says, pushing back the strands of hair that were sticking to her face. “Putting the past in the past and all that.”
“And how’s that going for you?” Lexa asks wryly, running her fingers over the ridges of her braid.
“It’s going,” Clarke says. She’s not sure if the pounding in her ears is her heart or the bass of the song that’s playing. “I’m still a little stuck on the part where you abandoned me and my people though.”
“I was doing what was best for mine,” Lexa says, “But I am sorry about what happened.”
“Sorry doesn’t make it okay,” Clarke says, her phone buzzing in her pocket.
“I’m sure they’re missing you,” Lexa says when she pulls it out to check it.
“It’s Raven,” Clarke says, “Making sure I’m not dead.”
Clarke steps across the hallway until she’s in front of Lexa, and with her heeled boots on they’re almost the same height.
“I’ll see you around,” Clarke says, pressing a not quite chaste kiss against her lips before heading back into the club.