Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's the same routine every week.

Clarke knocks on Lexa's door at 10pm; Lexa's roommate is always out by 9:30 on a Friday night. She kicks off her shoes by the door and slings her jacket over the back of Lexa's desk chair. Lexa always offers her a drink; Clarke always shakes her head no.

Then the space between them shrinks and Clarke's hands are on Lexa's hips and Lexa's fingers are tangled in Clarke's hair and the air is filled with breathy gasps and deep moans as they fall back onto Lexa's bed. Clothes are thrown onto the carpeted floor and Lexa's skin sizzles when Clarke rakes her nails down her bare back. A low growl rumbles up from Clarke's throat when Lexa's fingers brush over her chest before dipping to clutch at her hipbone.

Then neither of them can stand to wait anymore - their kisses become urgent and their bodies arch into one another as they explore the most intimate parts of each other, Lexa panting in Clarke's ear while Clarke's teeth nip at Lexa's collarbone.

Then it's over and Clarke is clambering up off of Lexa and pulling her clothes back on while Lexa sits up and wraps the duvet around herself. It's only a minute or so until Clarke is dressed and giving Lexa the same half-smile she always gives, and then she's out of the door and Lexa is alone.

She's always alone in the end.

***

“I can't believe you're still doing it.”

Raven's words are muffled as she speaks around a mouthful of potato salad. Clarke rolls her eyes, focusing on the pasta in front of her as Raven continues talking.

“I know the whole fuck-buddy thing is awesome. Trust me, I get it.”

Clarke rolls her eyes again as Raven waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“But you two have been doing this for, what, like a year now?”

Clarke nods once.

“And you're telling me that neither of you have developed any sort of feelings for each other?”

This earns a non-committal shrug from Clarke.

“Hm. If you say so, Griffin.”

Raven doesn't sound convinced, though, and long after lunch has finished, Clarke is in her afternoon class and she can't help but let her thoughts wander to Lexa.

She thinks about what Raven said. She thinks about what it was like when she first met Lexa, when they were put in the same orientation group and accidentally spent the entire day talking about their favourite books rather than paying attention to what the tour guide was saying. She thinks about the way Lexa had looked at her, eyes guarded and mouth unmoving, but how Lexa had smiled a little when Clarke accidentally stumbled over a tuft of grass; that beautiful, shy smile. And she thinks about their first night in the dorms, when they'd bumped into each other at a party and somehow fallen into bed together and then things got kind of... stuck.

Stuck in this perpetual cycle of sleeping together on a regular basis but never actually talking or saying how either of them feels.

Clarke sighs, head bent as she scribbles random doodles in the margins of her notepad. It's not like she likes Lexa or anything. That's what she tells herself, anyway. She can't like Lexa. Not after things have become so awkward and regimented.

She'd never admit it but she's come to look forward to their hook-ups, and she's worried that trying to speak to Lexa about anything will fuck it all up. Regardless of what Raven says, Clarke is convinced that Lexa doesn't see her as anything more than a fuck buddy. She can never see past Lexa's impassive mask, always glancing at the tight corners of her mouth and the way her shoulders set rigidly when Clarke leaves her bed to get dressed and go, trying to figure her out while she tugs on her boots and jacket. But she never can.

So she resolves to stay quiet, to just accept the parts of Lexa that she's been given and not try to push things. She'd rather have a tiny piece of Lexa than not have her at all, even if her heart has been saying otherwise for quite a while now.

“Shit.”

“Miss Griffin, is everything okay?”

Clarke's head shoots up and her face flushes red as she realises that she spoke out loud. She gives her professor a swift nod, returning her eyes to her paper and immersing herself in her thoughts once more for the rest of the class.

Then 3pm arrives and it's time to meet Raven for their weekly study group. She gathers her things, grabbing her headphones and shoving them into her ears before letting The Smiths serenade her as she walks down the bustling corridor. Her eyes are fixed on her shoes as she walks and then she's suddenly colliding with another person and her books are flying out of her arms, an array of pages scattered around her feet.

“Oh my god, I'm so sor–”

She locks eyes with the other person and her words die in her throat.

“Hello, Clarke.”

Lexa's voice is stiff, eyes flitting around like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

“Lexa, hey.”

They stand in stagnant silence for a moment, Clarke shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Sorry for bumping into you. I wasn't looking.”

“Clearly.”

Lexa sounds so cold, so removed. Clarke tries to ignore the painful pang in her stomach when Lexa turns and strides away, leaving Clarke standing alone amidst the crowd of students milling around her.

“Fuck.”

***

Raven leans over the desk and pokes Clarke in the arm with her pencil.

“What's up with you today?”

Clarke jumps a little, her own pencil skittering across the page, making a haphazard line across her notes.

“Damn it, Ray.”

Raven chuckles, holding her hands up in mock surrender. Then her face turns serious and she fixes her eyes on Clarke's.

“I'm serious, Clarke. You've been weird all afternoon, and you've not even asked me about my date with Octavia last night.”

Clarke opens her mouth to speak, but Raven holds up a hand and stops her before the words are even on her tongue.

“I'll tell you about it after you tell me what's bugging you.”

Clarke sighs begrudgingly as she lays her pencil down on the desk, resting her head in her hands.

“S'Lexa.”

Her words are muffled by her hands and Raven leans over to pull her arms away.

“What?”

Clarke swallows, jaw clenching. “I said, it's Lexa.”

Raven's eyes widen a little.

“Fuck buddy Lexa?”

“Yes, Ray, how many other Lexas do we know?”

Raven sits back a little, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay, so, what happened?”

“Nothing.”

Raven frowns.

“That's the point, Raven. Nothing happened.”

“You've lost me.”

Clarke lets out a frustrated huff.

“We have this– this thing where we get together and we have a good time–”

Raven smirks at this.

“–but then she acts like she can't stand to be around me unless she's fucking me and I don't know what to do because I think I...”

She trails off uncertainly. Raven leans forward to pat her arm sympathetically.

“Can't say I didn't see this coming.”

Clarke glares at her. “Not helping.”

“Okay, sorry, sorry.”

Silence descends over them once again, but Clarke's mind is whirring and she can't focus on the assignment in front of her. She stands a few moments later, Raven shooting her a concerned smile as she piles her books and papers into her arms.

“Done already?”

“Uh, no, I just... I'm gonna go. Gotta call my mom.”

Raven looks like she doesn't believe her but she doesn't say anything.

“Okay. Tell Abby I said hey.”

Raven injects a suggestive tone into her voice on the word “hey” and winks over-exaggeratedly and Clarke can't help but laugh, poking her tongue out at her best friend before turning and walking out of the library and into the glaring sunshine.

The rays are warm on her cheeks and she takes a deep breath, savouring the sweet summer air and the way it wraps around her like a veil. Cloaked in buzzing heat, she continues on until she reaches her dorm. She dumps her bag onto her bed and perches on the edge, chin propped up on her hands. Then guilt jolts through her as she realises that she's used calling her mom as an excuse a bunch of times recently but hasn't actually called her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and dials the familiar number, her stress deflating a little when she hears her mother's warm voice.

They talk for about half an hour, Clarke telling her about her classes and how second year is going, while her mother fills her in on her new job and what life at home has been like since Clarke left for university. Despite her worry about Lexa, speaking to her mother makes her feel a bit better and she ends the call with a smile on her face. She moves to sit at her desk and completes the assignment that’s due in a couple of days, before taking a quick shower in her en-suite and throwing on shorts and a loose t-shirt.

Deciding to have an early night, she clambers into bed, letting out a relieved sigh when her head hits the pillow. She loses herself to sleep in minutes, only waking up hours later when someone in the hallway outside crashes into her door, drunken laughter spilling in through the thin walls. Sleep finds her again quickly, though, and she finds that her dreams are tinged with a shade of green similar to the colour of Lexa's eyes.

***

Next Friday rolls around and Clarke is a ball of nerves. She flits between re-making her bed a bunch of times and brewing countless cups of tea in an attempt to calm down, but nothing works.

“Here’s an idea,” Raven’s voice crackles down the phone that Clarke has wedged between her shoulder and her ear. “How about you just don’t go?”

Clarke scoffs as she adds milk to her sixth cup of tea.

“Like that’s gonna happen.”

“Clarke–”

“No, Raven. Look, I know you don’t like her very much–”

“That’s an understatement,” Raven mutters.

“–but it’s Friday and I’m horny and I’m going, okay?”

“Fine,” Raven sighs. “But if she hurts you, I may have to kill her.”

“Noted.”

“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave much off the table, does it?”

“Cheeky bitch,” is Raven’s response, her laughter echoing down the phone until she hangs up and Clarke is left with the dial tone.

Glancing at the clock, she sees that it’s nearing 10 o’clock and her palms begin to sweat. She wipes them on her jeans a couple of times as she walks to the door, stopping in front of the mirror that’s propped up against the wall to check her outfit one last time. She chose blue jeans and a white tank top – casual enough, but nothing too shabby. Then she chides herself for even caring what she looks like. Lexa won’t care, not when she’ll be ripping Clarke’s clothes off in minutes anyway.

“Fucking hell,” Clarke mutters to herself, giving herself a stern look in the mirror before compelling her feet to carry her through the open door and into the hallway.

She steps over already-drunk students who are slumped against the wall, shooting a smile at a guy from one of her classes as she continues down the maze of corridors until she reaches Lexa’s room. She steadies her hand before knocking, three short taps. The door opens moments later and her eyes lock onto Lexa’s.

Lexa doesn’t speak. She never does, really. She just does a little sidestep to let Clarke in, shutting the door quietly behind her before going over to the fridge and getting out a beer for herself. Clarke is a little bewildered when Lexa doesn’t offer her one this time; but she’s declined Lexa’s offer so much in the past that she really shouldn’t be surprised.
The hiss of the beer opening is the only sound and it fills the room, coiling around Clarke and making the hair on her arms stand on end. Lexa drinks a generous amount, and Clarke can’t help but stare at the muscles tensing in Lexa’s slender neck as she swallows. But then Lexa lowers the drink and is staring at Clarke and Clarke averts her gaze, staring down at the carpet instead.

She waits.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Then Lexa closes the space between them in four long strides and her lips are hot on Clarke’s and Clarke’s hands scrabble at Lexa’s waist as they waste no time in taking off each other’s clothes. There’s a moment when Lexa’s hand comes up to cup Clarke’s face in a gesture that’s so unusually intimate that it makes Clarke freeze, but then Lexa is grabbing her chin and pressing their lips together again and Clarke is lost to Lexa’s touch.

The night goes how it always does, and ends the same too.

Only this time, Clarke falters when pulling on her clothes. She stops, still topless, and turns to Lexa, chest fluttering as her heart quakes behind her rib cage.

“Lexa?”

Lexa looks up from whatever she was typing on her phone, her expression unreadable.

“Lexa, what–”

Clarke’s throat tightens when Lexa’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t say anything, but Clarke nods in surrender, tugging her shirt over her bare chest before leaving with the rest of her clothes gripped in her arms. The door slams shut behind her and it feels like she’s been punched.

She reaches her dorm room minutes later, throwing her clothes against the wall before leaning her forehead on the cool surface of the mirror. Only then does she allow herself to cry.

Chapter Text

A few weeks pass and Clarke is finding it harder and harder to act like nothing has changed.

She still goes over to Lexa’s every Friday night, but now Clarke gets butterflies whenever she knocks at Lexa’s door and her hands tremble and her stomach heaves and she struggles to keep the forced smile plastered onto her face when the door swings open.

Lexa doesn’t seem to notice. She’s always too preoccupied with tearing Clarke’s clothes off and kissing her until they’re both breathless and wanting more. There is a moment when they break apart from a kiss and Clarke swears Lexa is looking at her with softness in her eyes – but then it’s gone and the steely glint is back and Clarke brushes it off. Probably just wishful thinking on her part.

She can’t help but long for more, though, and this becomes apparent when Raven catches her in the cafeteria one afternoon, staring morosely into the bowl of soup that is sitting in front of her.

“Dude, that’s growing a skin on it. Gross.”

Clarke startles, looking up at Raven briefly before shoving the soup towards her.

“It’s all yours.”

Raven frowns. “Okay, what’s up?”

Clarke keeps her eyes down, tracing patterns in the small pile of salt she poured out onto the table a few minutes ago.

“Damn it, Clarke, don’t you know it’s bad luck to spill salt?”

Raven reaches over the table and grabs a pinch off the pile, tossing it over her shoulder.

“There. Saved your ass.”

This elicits a tiny smile from Clarke – Raven did always know how to cheer her up.

“There she is,” Raven’s voice is warm. “Now c’mon, out with it.”

Clarke opens her mouth to speak but suddenly finds her eyes filling with tears. Raven races round the table as fast as her brace allows, taking the seat next to Clarke and wrapping her arms around her.

“Hey, you’re okay,” she whispers.

Clarke clings onto Raven’s shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

“Tell me what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, Clarke sits up, wiping her tear-stained cheeks before grimacing.

“Fuck, I’m a mess.”

“A hot mess, though.”

“Shut up, Ray.”

They share a brief smile, but then Clarke’s eyes begin to well up again and Raven jumps right back into best friend mode.

“Seriously, Clarke, what happened? Did someone hurt you? Because I swear to Satan if anyone has even laid a FINGER on you I’m gonna–”

“No, it’s– nothing like that,” Clarke sniffles, toying with the sleeves of her hoodie.

“Well, what is it?”

Clarke looks at Raven and Raven sees the hurt in her eyes, and suddenly she just knows.

“It’s Lexa, isn’t it?”

Raven’s voice is gentle, and she brings her hand up to rub Clarke’s back as Clarke nods.

“So…?”

Clarke takes a shaky breath.

“You were right, Ray.”

Raven’s eyebrows quirk up.

“I’m always right. You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific here.”

Clarke’s fists clench in her lap.

“You were right about how… how I feel. About her.”

Raven nods. “So… you like her?”

“I mean, yeah, I like her.”

Clarke sniffles, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

“But it’s more than that.”

A patient silence sits between them as Clarke gathers her thoughts.

“It’s like– okay, we have this thing, whatever it is… and it’s meant to be really casual, or whatever, but I guess I…”

Clarke is on the verge of tears again and Raven takes her hand, shushing her gently.

“You have feelings for her but you don’t think she feels the same.”

Clarke nods again, jaw trembling.

“It just hurts, that’s all. It just hurts.”

“I know, Clarke. I know.”

Raven holds her again and Clarke relaxes against her, trying to ignore the way her heart is twisting painfully in her chest. About five minutes pass and then Clarke is pulling away, shooting Raven a grateful smile before scrubbing at her eyes with her fists.

“I’d better go clean myself up.”

Raven pulls a face that Clarke can’t quite decipher.

“What about Lexa?”

Clarke pauses, raking her fingers through her hair before fixing a too-bright smile onto her face.

“What about her?”

“I mean, you like her, right? Don’t you want to talk to her, maybe discuss how you’re feeli–”

“There’s nothing to discuss.”

“But, Clarke–”

“Just drop it, okay?” Clarke’s voice takes on a pleading tone. “Nothing’s going to happen. She’s made that perfectly clear. So I’m just going to have to forget about her.”

Raven’s voice is soft when she next speaks. “So that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Clarke all but whispers. “I’ll just stop seeing her. Because I don’t want to– I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.”

Raven pats her on the knee, nodding in understanding before shifting to the side so Clarke can stand. She shoves her things into her rucksack, not caring enough to place it in neatly, and bends to peck Raven on the head before heading towards the sliding doors a few feet away.

“Wait, hold on!”

Clarke pauses and turns to see Raven out of her seat, hands tented on the table.

“There’s a party, tonight. At Octavia’s dorm.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. She already knows where this is going.

“I know you probably don’t feel like going out right now but I think it’ll be good for you, y’know, getting out of your head a bit and meeting some new people.”

Raven’s face is positively glowing with hope and Clarke feels her resolve crumbling.

“Besides, I want you to meet Octavia.”

That’s the winning strike and Raven knows it, grinning triumphantly when Clarke mutters “fine” before striding out of the cafeteria.

“I’ll pick you up at ten!” Raven calls.

Clarke raises a hand in reply, chuckling when she hears Raven cheering behind her.

***

It’s almost time for the party and Clarke is rushing around her room like a headless chicken trying to decide what to wear. With fifteen minutes to spare, she opts for a black cocktail dress (Raven calls it her “clover dress” because she’s gotten lucky every time she’s worn it since coming to university) paired with red heels and even redder lipstick. She piles her blonde hair on top of her head in a messy-but-intentionally-messy bun, and is just applying the finishing touches to her mascara when someone raps at her door.

“It’s open!”

“That’s what she said,” Raven smirks, sauntering in with a crate of beers in one hand and bottle of vodka in the other.

“Damn, Griffin. Looking good.”

Clarke grins at Raven in the mirror, adding one more flick to her eyelashes before turning to dramatically face her best friend.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Reyes.”

Raven’s attire is very different from Clarke’s; however, it’s just as striking. She’s paired a tight-fitting purple tank top with even tighter black jeans, and the outline of her abs beneath her shirt is unmistakable.

“Someone’s dressed to impress.”

Clarke swears she sees Raven blush, but decides not to tease her like she usually would. It’s rare that her best friend actually likes someone and so she doesn’t want to ruin her excitement.

“Ready to go?”

Clarke hears the eagerness in Raven’s voice and her heart swells. She strides over and wraps Raven in a hug. Raven proceeds to squirm and whine until Clarke lets go, laughter in her eyes.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just happy for you, Ray.”

This makes Raven smile, and she nudges Clarke’s shoulder with her own.

“Don’t count your chickens yet, Griffin. You might not like her, then what’re we gonna do?”

But Clarke sees the way Raven softens when she speaks about Octavia and knows that anyone who makes her best friend this happy must be pretty great.

“I’m sure I’ll love her.”

“I hope so,” Raven smiles.

Clarke takes her hand and grasps it once, before letting go and moving to open her dorm room door. She steps out into the hallway, glancing back at Raven with fondness in her eyes.

“Come on. Let’s get you to your girl.”

***

The party’s already in full swing by the time they arrive and Clarke feels her heart jump a little when the heavy bass of the music skitters over her skin. She’s just about to say something to Raven when a mass of dark hair comes bounding over and Raven is swathed in it, her laughter bubbling up into the party haze.

“Hey, baby.”

Clarke’s stomach twists and she tries not to let jealousy consume her while she watches Raven hold the girl’s face in her hands as she places a gentle kiss on her lips. Then they break apart and suddenly the girl is looking at Clarke, a friendly smile on her face.

“You must be Clarke, right?”

Clarke’s nod is stiffer than she wants it to be and she forces herself to relax, extending a hand to the brunette.

“Yeah, hey.”

“I’m Octavia.”

Octavia’s smile is welcoming and warm and Clarke feels her nerves unwind a little.

“Help yourself to whatever drinks you want, it’s an open bar here.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“No problem,” Octavia smiles, before turning to brush a kiss to Raven’s cheek. “I’m just gonna go say hi to Harper and Monroe, ‘kay?”

Raven nods, face tinged pink when Octavia kisses her again, and Clarke doesn’t miss the way Raven’s eyes follow Octavia as she makes her way across the crowded room, hazel eyes filled with adoration.

“Damn, Ray.”

Raven jolts a little and her brow furrows as she turns to Clarke.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Clarke shrugs, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “Only that, y’know, you’re totally whipped for this girl.”

Raven opens her mouth to argue but is shut down when Clarke raises one eyebrow knowingly.

“It’s okay, Raven. You two seem to really like each other. There’s no shame in that.”

Raven’s obstinate expression melts into a smile and she blushes again, and this time Clarke wastes no time in teasing her mercilessly about it.

“Alright, alright, I get the point. But you’re right, I’m totally into her,” Raven grins, shrugging happily. “What can I say? The girl’s a god damn angel, Clarke.”

“Fitting, seeing as you’re basically the devil.”

“You’re such a shit.”

“That’s why you love me.”

Raven’s smile looks like it’s about to split her face in two. “I do love you, Clarke. Even though you’re a royal pain in my ass most of the time.”

“That makes two of us.”

Raven chuckles, turning her head to glance around the room in what is supposed to be a subtle gesture.

“Just go find her,” Clarke laughs, gently pushing Raven towards the throng of partygoers.

“I’ll come back for you in a bit, ‘kay?”

Clarke holds up the beer that has taken up permanent residence in her left hand. “Raven, I’ll be fine. Go, have fun.”

Raven stands up on her tiptoes and presses a chaste kiss to Clarke’s cheek, whispering “You’re the best!” into her ear before hurrying away to find Octavia.

But the smile soon falls from Clarke’s face when she’s left alone beside a mountain of pizza boxes and an already over-flowing dustbin, the music infiltrating her ears and wrapping around her brain. She’s shoved to the side when a group of people come rushing in, beers in their hands and shouts falling from their lips.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!”

She turns to see one of the girls from the group staring at her, her arms outstretched as if she tried to catch Clarke when she was pushed. She smiles tentatively; Clarke thinks she has a pretty smile.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl retracts her arms, wrapping them around herself. “Still, I feel bad. Can I, uh, can I get you a drink to make up for it?”

Clarke swills the remaining beer around in the can she’s clutching before knocking back the last few dregs, wiping her mouth on her sleeve and smirking at the girl.

“A drink would be great.”

“Okay, um, what would you like?”

“Surprise me.”

Clarke is pleased to see the girl’s face flush pink as she turns to the counter, upon which numerous bottles of alcohol are lined up. She watches as the stranger selects a small bottle of rum and pours a generous amount into two plastic cups, topping them off with a splash of Coke. Turning back to Clarke, she holds out one cup and Clarke takes it eagerly, holding it out in a toast.

“I’m Clarke, by the way.”

“Niylah.”

“Nice name.”

The girl blushes again.

“Well, Niylah, here’s to a fucking good night.”

Clarke raises her cup and Niylah knocks hers against it, then Clarke brings hers to her lips and Niylah’s mouth falls open as she watches Clarke down the sour concoction in three desperate gulps.

“Thirsty?”

“You have no idea,” Clarke smirks, grabbing Niylah’s hand and dragging her out into the dance area.

Niylah looks surprised for all of two seconds but then she’s readily following Clarke into the crowd, gasping when Clarke spins her around and presses their bodies together. They dance like that for a couple of songs, Clarke’s breath hot against the shell of Niylah’s ear, Niylah’s fingers pressing into Clarke’s hips.

Niylah’s touch is different to Lexa’s; it’s gentler, more hesitant. Despite the niceness of it, Clarke finds herself missing Lexa’s strong hands and the way they’d tangle in Clarke’s hair and run down Clarke’s neck and scrape along her spine and–

No.

Clarke can’t go there. She won’t let herself. So she throws herself into dancing with Niylah and only stops a while later when Niylah stiffens in her arms, staring at something behind Clarke, who turns to see a figure lingering by the door.

The lights are off by now and shadows dance across the walls, making it difficult to see anyone clearly. But Clarke recognises the rigid way the figure holds themselves and how long fingers grip the doorframe, and then blue eyes lock with green and the figure turns and storms back out into the hallway.

“Fuck.”

Clarke turns back to Niylah, eyes filled with apologies.

“I have to go.”

She offers no more explanation as she makes her way through the crowd, panic clawing its way up her throat as she scrapes past sweat-slicked bodies. She finally makes it out into the hallway and catches sight of long brown hair swishing round the corner at the end of the corridor, and she too races across the stained carpet and rounds the corner until she’s close enough for her hand to circle the figure’s bony elbow.

“Wait!”

Then she turns and Clarke is rooted to the spot as green eyes stare her down.

“What?”

Lexa is staring at her and Clarke’s words dissolve on her tongue. She is trapped by Lexa’s glare and her heart clenches and suddenly she has no idea what to say. But Lexa is waiting and Clarke has so much that she wants to say, so much that she wants to ask.

“Lexa, I…”

Chapter Text

The air is thick and stifling and Clarke’s mouth is uncomfortably dry. And Lexa is still staring, still waiting for her to speak.

“I just wanted to… uh, I just– well, it’s just that…”

“Spit it out, Clarke.”

Lexa’s voice is sharp like a blade and Clarke steps back like she’s been slapped.

A hint of guilt flits over Lexa’s face but it’s gone in an instant. Anger flares up in Clarke’s chest, and she takes a step closer to Lexa, hands balled into fists.

“You know what? Fuck you, Lexa.”

Now Lexa is the one who looks affronted.

“Just fuck you. Fuck you for being so cold all the time. Fuck you for making me feel like I’m worth nothing more to you than a cheap fuck. And fuck you for making me fall for you and for not giving a shit about how much you’re fucking with my head.”

Clarke doesn’t realise that she’s crying until a tear drips from her cheek onto her collarbone. She rubs at her eyes with her hands, head bowed, legs shaking.

“Just fuck you,” she whispers, all traces of anger now gone from her voice.

Now she just sounds defeated.

Lexa walks forward until she’s almost toe-to-toe with Clarke, surprising the blonde by placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Clarke…”

Lexa’s voice is gentle in a way that Clarke has never heard before, and she lifts her head to see Lexa looking at her with softness in her eyes, that softness that Clarke swore she saw that night a few weeks ago.

“Clarke, I’m so sorry.”

Of all the things she thought Lexa would say, this is the last thing she expected to fall from Lexa’s quivering lips.

“What?”

“I said, I’m sorr–”

“No, I heard you.”

Clarke can do nothing but stare at Lexa, wide-eyed, as Lexa nervously chews on her lip, face tight with remorse.

“I never wanted you to feel like that.”

Clarke swallows audibly, red-rimmed eyes studying Lexa’s face.

“Why didn’t you– I had no idea– you could’ve told me, Clarke, we could’ve talked…”

“I thought you weren’t into talking.”

Clarke’s voice has an edge to it that makes Lexa flinch.

“That’s what you told me, right? The first night we hooked up?”

“But that was before– I mean, I’m not used to feeling– I didn’t know you were going to be so…” Lexa’s jaw clenches as she stares down at the floor, arms crossed over her chest.

“So what, Lexa? So easy? So gullible? So fucking stupid?!”

Clarke begins to feel overwhelmed, anger and hurt and confusion swirling in her chest until she can’t breathe.

“Well, you’re right. I am stupid. I’m stupid for thinking this could ever work between us.”

Her breath is coming out in short, sharp bursts now.

“I guess I’m just stupid and deluded, and… and…”

Clarke’s words fade and she stumbles, hand coming up to cradle her head. Then her vision starts to blur and her breath sticks in her lungs and the last thing she remembers before she hits the floor is Lexa reaching out to catch her.

***

Clarke wakes a few hours later to her head in someone’s lap and a cold compress being held to her forehead. When she realises that it’s Lexa’s lap that she’s lying on and Lexa’s fingers stroking through her hair, she sits bolt-upright and scoots across the bed, pressing herself into the corner of the wall.

“Clarke, it’s okay.”

Lexa’s voice is calm and warm and all the things Clarke has always wanted it to be.

“It’s not okay.”

She so desperately doesn’t want to sound so sullen and defensive, but the words escape her before she can stop them. Lexa’s lips purse, her eyes wandering over Clarke’s face.

“How are you feeling?”

Clarke shrugs.

“How’s your head? You hit it pretty hard when you fell.”

“Hurts, I guess.”

Lexa hums quietly, getting up and going over to her fridge before returning to the bed with a bag of frozen peas.

“Try these.”

Clarke hesitates, fingers twitching against the duvet, but then pain erupts across her skull and she grabs the bag from Lexa’s outstretched hand, trying not to wince when the cold comes into contact with the already-forming lump just above her temple. She’s holding it there for all of two seconds when an avalanche of peas cascades out and spills into her cleavage.

“Fuck!”

She writhes around, trying to scoop out the peas while cries of discomfort escape her clenched teeth. Lexa is standing at this point, hand over her mouth as she watches Clarke wrestle with the escaped vegetables. A few minutes later and Clarke settles down, flicking at the few remaining peas that landed on her thighs and watching them soar off the bed and onto the floor. Lexa reclaims her spot near the end of the bed, turning to meet Clarke’s fiery gaze.

“There must’ve been a hole in the bag.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Clarke holds Lexa’s gaze for a few moments. Lexa keeps a straight face for as long as she can before she bursts into a fit of giggles. Clarke’s eyes widen in shock – she’s never seen Lexa laugh before.

Lexa then takes a breath to compose herself, still smirking when Clarke huffs like a petulant child.

“It’s not funny, y’know.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that an offer?”

Clarke’s eyes lock onto Lexa’s. The question hangs in the air between them. Part of Clarke wants to say yes; wants to pretend that things haven’t changed and that they can just go back to how they were before tonight. But the other part of her doesn’t want to just have sex with Lexa and then slither out of her room the next day like she’s some dirty secret. And this is the part that has Clarke scrambling over until she’s sat up on her knees in front of Lexa, who’s watching Clarke with something that looks a lot like fear in her eyes.

“Lexa.”

It’s all she says before reaching up to stroke Lexa’s cheek. Green eyes flutter and close as Clarke’s fingers linger on Lexa’s lips, moving down to her jawline before delicately tracing over her collarbones.

“Lexa, look at me.”

She does, and Clarke’s breath catches when emerald meets sapphire.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Clarke is certain she sees a slight blush creep onto Lexa’s cheeks when she whispers this, watching as the girl sat in front of her reaches up to take Clarke’s hand in her own.

“Clarke?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Clarke sits back a little, watching Lexa.

“You already said that.”

“No, I mean, yes, I did, but… I’m not just sorry for making you feel shitty.”

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner how I feel about you.”

Clarke thinks she might pass out again. She leans back against the wall, unable to tear her eyes away from Lexa’s face.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t care. I’m sorry for never being brave enough to stop you from leaving every Friday when all I wanted was for you to stay with me all night. I’m sorry for not knowing how to be anything other than a heartless bitch. I’m just… sorry.”

Clarke shuffles forward a tiny bit until her knee is pressed against Lexa’s.

“You’re not heartless, Lexa.”

Lexa lets out a shallow laugh. “But I’m still a bitch?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

Lexa looks hurt until she sees the playful smirk on Clarke’s lips.

“That was mean.”

“So I guess we’re even, then.”

Clarke means for that to be a joke but it falls flat, Lexa’s face dropping before she buries it in her hands.

“Oh god, how am I ever going to make this up to you?” she mumbles, her voice laced with regret.

Clarke crawls over and tugs Lexa’s hands away, placing them on her own thighs before intertwining their fingers together.

“Well, how about we start with you not being a total asshole to me from now on? Y’know, seeing how you like me and everything.”

Clarke’s voice is teasing but her eyes are shining with unshed tears, which Lexa reaches up to catch before they fall onto her cheeks.

“Are you sure?”

Clarke nods, bringing one of Lexa’s hands up so she can place a kiss on Lexa’s palm.

“I’ve been sure since the first day I met you, Lexa.”

***

“A date?! You’re going on a date with the fuck buddy?”

Raven is pacing back and forth across Clarke’s room, while Clarke listens in amusement.

“Yes, Raven, I am,” Clarke replies from the bathroom, “And I know what you’re going to say so save your breath and shush for once.”

“But Clarke–”

“I said shush, Raven.”

Clarke waltzes out of the bathroom, smiling at her aggravated best friend.

“Look, I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do.”

Raven plonks herself down on the bed with a dramatic sigh.

“But it’s– she’s different now. She’s changed.”

“That’s what they all say,” Raven grumbles.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Clarke shoots back.

“Neither does your face.”

Clarke veers over and sits next to her, patting her thigh once to get her attention. “Raven.”

“What?”

“I know you’re worried about me getting hurt. In all honesty, I am too.”

Raven looks up and sees Clarke’s eyes shimmering earnestly.

“But I have to try, Ray. I have to try regardless of what might happen, because if I don’t then I know I’ll spend my entire life regretting it.”

“Yeah, but–”

“If you hadn’t asked Octavia out, and she ended up with someone else and then you lost her for good, what would you think?”

Raven shrugs.

“No, come on. What would you think of yourself?”

“I– I’d think I was the biggest idiot in the world.”

“Exactly.”

“But this is different, Clarke!” Raven stands and turns to face the blonde. “Octavia hasn’t hurt me like Lexa hurt you.”

“I know,” Clarke replies quietly. “And I know there’s no guarantee that she won’t do it again. But I’d take that risk if it means I can be with her, even if only for a little while. Y’know?”

Raven stands silently for a few moments before nodding begrudgingly.

“Thanks, Ray.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Despite her gruff voice, Raven has a smile on her face and Clarke jumps up to hug her before pulling back and glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Crap, I have to go in like twenty minutes! Help me choose what to wear?”

The next fifteen minutes are a flurry of clothes and scarves and shoes, until they settle on black jeans, a white shirt that hugs her figure in all the right place, and a pair of black boots.

“Very biker chic. I like it.”

Clarke grins at Raven while donning her leather jacket, adjusting her shirt collar before grabbing her keys and bag off her desk.

“Okay, here goes nothing. Wish me luck.”

Clarke is already racing down the hallway when she hears Raven shout “Luck!” behind her, and she arrives at Lexa’s door a few minutes later with a smile on her face.

She lifts her hand to knock, but pauses before her knuckles hit the wood. She realises that this is the first time that she’s not coming over to Lexa’s for sex. This is the first time she isn’t going to stay for a few hours and then skulk out in the dead of night. This is the first time she’ll be able to actually speak to Lexa like a normal person–

Clarke jumps when the door swings open and she comes face to face with Lexa, who’s dressed in a sleek black shirt with a matching skirt and white pumps.

“Clarke! Hi.”

“Hi, hey,” she stammers, smiling sheepishly. “I, uh, was about to knock, but–”

“I just came out to check if you… wow.”

Clarke blushes beetroot red as Lexa’s eyes wander over her body.

“You look incredible,” she breathes.

Clarke thinks if she blushes any harder then she’ll permanently change colour.

“Thanks. So do you.”

Lexa smiles at that, reaching out to gently take Clarke’s hand in her own.

“Ready to go?” Clarke says.

Lexa lingers outside her door, still holding Clarke’s hand.

“Lexa?”

Suddenly she grasps Clarke’s fingers tighter, pulling her back until their faces are almost touching.

“There’s something I want to do first,” Lexa whispers, detangling her fingers from Clarke’s so she can take Clarke’s face in her hands.

She moves her head in a tiny bit, leaving a gap that Clarke can close if she chooses to. Lexa feels her heart swell with relief when Clarke steps forward second later and presses their lips together, soft and needy and beautiful.

They’ve kissed before, sure. But nothing like this. It’s never been gentle and careful and Lexa has never sighed into Clarke’s mouth and Clarke has never let her fingers splay across the back of Lexa’s neck.

Clarke thinks she could drown in Lexa’s touch, letting the waves wash over her again and again.

Lexa thinks she could let Clarke weave herself into her very bones and she’d let her stay there forever.

When they kiss, Clarke sees spring meadows and blossom trees and budding flowers.

When they kiss, Lexa sees glistening waves and golden sand and summer skies.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Four.