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Night had fallen a few hours prior in Polis. The sun would be due up soon, and Lexa still hadn't made her way back to the tower. Normally, Clarke would accompany Lexa if she would be working late, but Clarke had been busy herself. However, Lexa wasn’t working. Or at least that's what she’d been told.
Once she finished her meeting with the rest of the ambassadors, a guard had informed Clarke that Raven would be spending the rest of the day with Lexa.
And if her suspicions were correct, it meant the girl had actually gotten her hands on Monty’s moonshine and was fully intending on getting the stoic commander as drunk as possible-- Raven had been hinting at it for the last month.
She also failed to invite Clarke.
Clarke suppressed an eye roll at that, feeling a bit childish at even thinking that. She wasn't jealous, no; she just wanted Lexa home.
Thump.
Clarke raised a brow, setting down the piece of parchment she had been sketching on. The noise was coming from behind the door, and Clarke, reaching for the hidden blade in her boot with charcoal-coated hands, eyed the door skeptically. The guards were out there, of course, but paranoia seemed like a better option rather an untimely death.
Thump. Scratch.
She frowned, forcing her face to remain impassive. She'd been in Polis a while now, and though she was a bit more skilled with using weapons, she would've felt more comfortable if Lexa were in the room with her. Clarke seriously doubted she’d be able to take on any one of Lexa’s people over the age of thirteen.
The doorknob began wobbling slightly, and Clarke’s grip on the blade handle tightened. Wetting her lips nervously, she blinked, and the door was kicked open.
Lifting the blade, Clarke paused, and stared at the girl in front of her. Lexa was leaning against the left side of the threshold with a dopey smile on her face and clothes smelling strongly of alcohol. Her grin was bright, tongue peeking out underneath her front teeth-- something Clarke herself tended to do when she smiled a little too widely.
“Cl-arke!” She slurred, a small giggle escaping her lips. Lexa stepped forward and batted at the door behind her in an attempt to close it. It went a few inches before stopping, and Lexa, an adorable pout now securely on her face, threw her body against the door roughly with a resounding thud.
Clarke winced and set the blade down on top of the forgotten piece of parchment.
If that didn't wake every person in the tower, nothing will.
Now that Lexa had succeeded in her task of shutting the door, she was making her way over to Clarke. She stretched her arms out wide in front of her, and her eyes were dazed over and a bit cloudy. With her grin back in place, she stopped just shy of Clarke, leaving very little room for personal space. Leaving her arms outstretched, Lexa eyed her with a bit of curiosity, and for a moment Clarke thought she was going to say something. However, as she continued to take the other girl’s body language in, she realized Lexa was silently asking for a hug.
Suppressing a chuckle, Clarke leaned forward and embraced Lexa tightly. As she buried her head in the crook of Lexa’s neck, she was hit with the overpowering stench of moonshine. Her eye twitched slightly, though she made no move to leave her current position.
“Raven,” Lexa started, words coming out a bit incoherently in Clarke’s right ear. “Raven, she found one of those, uh,” she hiccuped, “From the old world. The music.”
Clarke waited for Lexa to explain herself further, but the other girl simply held onto Clarke tighter. She breathed directly into the side of Clarke’s face, and though she was hit with the stench of alcohol once again, she could feel Lexa smiling into her shoulder.
“We learned a song together. She said- she said that it was a… What do your people call it, Clarke? Like a union, Clarke, y’know?” Lexa rambled, burying her face a little deeper against Clarke’s shoulder. “Oh!” She jumped a bit in her arms, “I think Raven said wedding. A wedding, Clarke, that's it. She said it was a traditional song that people would sing at- at weddings.”
Clarke smiled at the overuse of her name; Lexa tended to do that whether she was drunk or sober, it seemed. “Yeah? Why don't you tell me about it?”
The two of them continued to stand there, still completely wrapped around the other. Lexa’s overwhelming scent of alcohol was giving Clarke a headache, but she supposed her old habit of refusing to bathe used to make Lexa feel quite the same way. Neither of them moved, and as the room settled into silence, Clarke thought Lexa had fallen asleep against her. Just as she was about to pull away, Lexa gripped her tightly and raised her head to rest against Clarke’s right temple.
“Let me call you sweetheart,” Lexa quietly sang. “I’m in love with you.”
Clarke’s heart skipped a beat in her chest as she realized which song Lexa had been talking about. When she was younger, her father used to tell her about his wedding with her mother whenever he got the chance. Though weddings couldn't be too extravagant on the Ark because of the obvious limitations, couples were still able to have their special day. The song Lexa was humming at the moment-- Let Me Call You Sweetheart-- was a song that Clarke’s parents happened to sing at their own wedding.
“Let me hear you whisper that you love me, too.” Lexa pulled away from her shoulder and brushed her nose against Clarke’s, “Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so true.” She paused, closing her eyes briefly before opening them again. “So blue, really,” she mumbled, pulling back from Clarke slightly.
Lexa smiled softly at the girl before she leaned in again, her lips brushing against the side of Clarke’s mouth. “Let me call you sweetheart,” she breathed out, “I’m in love,” Lexa kissed her gently, “with you.”