Chapter Text
Her small, practically non-existent smile was what intrigued me. “So you´re the one.“ To be completely honest, it might have been the beaming light in her green eyes that grabbed a hold of me. I had always had a thing for eyes. She pointed to the takeaway cup in my hand as she said, “I believe that one has my name on it.”
With confusion I turned the cup around and yes, the green-eyed girl was right, the name written horizontally on the cup wasn't mine. Lexa, I read quietly for myself.
“Don't blame me. You're the one who left your coffee unsupervised,” I replied and took a sip of its content. It was strong, stronger than my usual coffee order.
“Well, then,” she said and stepped up to me, she reached behind me with those green eyes locked on mine, piercing through me. I was absolutely aware of how her body pressed up against mine for a second before she stepped back again, now with what I could only presume was my cup in her hand. She turned it in her grip until she could read the name written in red ink. “Nice to meet you, Clarke.”
The rain patters against the windows; it's a calming sound in the darkness, the only sound apart from the one coming from my arms. The child´s body fits in my embrace like a puzzle piece I never knew I wanted to keep, at least not yet, not like this. His breathing is the only sound I´m listing out for, the only one that matters. He´s sleeping, soundly and ever so peacefully. I can see the resemblance, although, I might just be making it up in my mind. After all, he's a toddler and most toddlers don't look like anything in my eyes. Just cute. Not him, though. He's mesmerizing, and he looks just like her. A smile fills up my lips when his small hand grabs the white fabric of my shirt in his sleep. When he tugs the smile only grows bigger and I have to hold back a burst of heartfelt laughter.
“For such a little man, you've got a lot of strength,” I whisper and caress his cheek. After rocking him for another couple of minutes his grip loosens and he tucks his face into my chest.
Nothing has mattered more than this.
“Can I ask you for a favour?” Her raspy voice cut through the voices coming from the laptop in front of us.
“Sure.” My gaze was plastered on the screen. It had been her idea to put on a French movie, one that was supposed to make me want to brush off my high school French, but all I had been doing was reading the subtitles. God knew I wouldn't have been able to figure out what the story was without them. Then she decided it was a good time to start a conversation in the middle of it when I had finally gotten around what the main character was up to. Typical.
“Can you watch Aden tomorrow?” she asked and pulled my gaze from the laptop to herself. Those green eyes found mine, there was no hesitation in them, there was only warmth and love. She smiled, ever so slightly, but only for a moment before she bit her lip. She couldn't have been more obvious if she held up a sign, but pointing it out to her wouldn't do any good. I knew that much, so instead I nodded.
“That´s not a favour. It´s my pleasure,” I told her. She nodded as well, her gaze already turning to catch up with the movie, but I could see the way she was trying her best to control her breathing. Sometimes, she could be so silly.
The front door opens slowly and she slips through the opening, if I had not been sitting in the living room I would never have heard her coming in as quiet as she is. Her clothes are muddy and there is a wood chip stuck to her slip and wet brown hair. Still, there's grace over the way she carries herself. Even after a whole day of working on the building site in the rain, she looks ready to walk into a meeting with the board. I for one would not notice her clothing. Her authority, that is the first thing I´d notice and then her eyes. Always her eyes.
“Everything ok?” she asks and brushes back a lock of hair that has escaped its tight braid.
“Yeah. He´s sleeping right now.”
She has untied her shoes by the time I´ve retrieved my bag from the couch, but she stays by the door as I put on my Converse and black leather jacket. Once I'm done she pulls the door open to let me out, as always, and I smile goodbye as I leave down the stairs. Only, this time it's different. I can´t hear the door shut behind me. Nor can I hear her talking to one of her neighbours; that is the only reason I can think of why she´d leave the apartment. I must be imagining it, I think to myself and ignore the tug at my chest the silence has provoked.
The scent of rain lingers in the air, that´s what welcomes me once I reach the street, and just like that, I stop. Right there in the middle of the street, just to breathe. It's chilly, but it's nice and it smells of rain. It´s perfect. I tug the jacket tighter around my body and set off towards my car parked down the street. The buzzing in my inner pocket forces me to let the cold in as I reach in to grab my phone.
“Hi, sweetheart. It´s me,” says the familiar voice as soon as I´ve accepted the call before I have time to answer.
“I know, mom.”
“I´ve been trying to get a hold of you the last couple of days,” she continues and I sigh as quietly as I possibly can, a knot already forming in the pit of my stomach.
“It´s in the middle of the semester, I´m busy most days,” I tell her and regret it when her reply meets me.
“Too busy for your own mother?”
I stop behind my red Ford Mustang. It wasn't my choice, it used to be my father´s, but when he passed I decided that the colour didn't matter. All I wanted was a piece of him and this car had been that piece for since I could remember. For all, I cared cars were a waste of space and global warming. Yet again, if I ever got into trouble and had to dramatically change my life this car would be the last thing I´d give up. Hell, I've already spent more nights sleeping in its backseat than my dorm bed.
“I´ll call you back more often, I promise,” I whisper with my other hand following the lines of the car. It's not as much of a promise to her, more one to him. To the family we once were.
“That´s all I ask.”
I don't feel guilty. Not anymore. A year of being away from home has given me a new perspective, a much-needed one. Ending the call though, I no longer have the want of doing much of anything. So when I pull up the house to find people everywhere, music playing from multiple speakers on the porch and a keg parked on the lawn I struggle with not turning back around again. I sit quietly in the car and just breathe, with the drunken huddle of students dancing as entertainment. When I finally get out of the car I fear for a moment that it won't be left alone, but yet again that´s a constant fear of mine. One I´ve learned to accept, just like disappointment and loss.
“Griffin!”
I look up to the second-floor windows, in one of them I find my rather energetic and drunk roommate grinning from ear to ear. “Raven,” I yell back and gesture to the people around me. “Something you should have told me?”
“Oh, yeah, we're having a party.”
I huff. “Where´s O?”
The smile on Raven´s face turns into something wicked and she licks her lips before pointing down towards the kitchen. I steer that way, pushing through the crowd, and just like Raven claimed I would, I find Octavia in the kitchen. Doing a handstand. At least not over a keg, this time. The crowd cheers and Octavia takes a bow as she lands on her two feet again, a grin plastered all over her stupid face. That grin, however, fades a little when she lays eyes on me.
“Clarke, you're home early,” she tries and I scoff.
My gaze flows through the room, I recognize most of the people here, or rather I believe that I´ve seen them in a similar setting before. The knot in my stomach is still very much present from the brief conversation with my mother, but so is the needed to live. To let go. I find myself looking at Octavia again, her own eyes watching me as for a reaction, and so I shake my head.
“Where´s the tequila?”