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kpforpresident · 2 years ago

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aka the plant /flower shop clexa au. Making it its own little post since it's gonna be a mini tumblr series. :)

Chapter 1/ the meeting

The door chimed, a cheery little note that pulled Lexa out from where she was intently reading, chin propped up in her palms. She sat up from her slouch, absentmindedly reaching out a thoughtful hand to reach for a rapidly-cooling cup of coffee as her eyes scanned the page, flicking over the words she had read dozens of times before. Lexa took a sip as she sat up straighter, pasting on her megawatt customer service smile as the shoes got closer, eyes still glued to her page.

Lexa’s finger pressed into the ink of her current line that her eyes were currently following as she raised her voice to be heard over the influx of noise that rushed into the shop with the door now opened- taxis honking, vendors selling their wares, the hustle of the city pouring into her cozy little shop in the downtown core of Polis–

“Be with you in a moment,” Lexa called into dim of the shop front, finishing her page and sliding in the crumpled hardware shop receipt that was currently serving as her bookmark.

Shutting the worn red cover and pushing into the side of the desk, Lexa turned her face up expectantly, expecting to see the usual harried boyfriend rushing for a bouquet or dutiful partner coming in to buy flowers for their beloved. Instead, she was met with the bluest pair of eyes she’d ever met, and a sweet dimple placed slightly off kilter in a beautiful chin. The owner of these two wonderful features looked down on her amusedly, a slight smile touching her face as she slid a black knit cap off of golden hair into a wool coat pocket.

“Not interrupting, am I?” the girl spoke, a wonderfully raspy voice emerging from a pair of rosebud lips as she carefully made her way through the various buckets of water that were on the shop floor, all filled to bursting with colorful sprays of flowers in every shape and size.

Lexa floundered slightly as she shot off of her stool, the worn wooden seat creaking in betrayal as it nearly tipped over with the force of her velocity. Blushing furiously, Lexa scrabbles to find some semblance of cool in front of this beautiful woman.

“No, it’s all great, all good-” she manages to squeak out about two octaves higher than her normal register, blushing furiously as she tries to awkwardly clear her throat. The blonde quirks an amused eyebrow as she plants a hand on the worn wooden counter, looking around interestedly as Lexa silently berates herself for being the poster child of a Worthless Lesbian that Anya always teases her about.

“I’m Lexa, I own this shop- how can I help you today…” Lexa trails off as she flicks her eyes meaningfully to the blue ones that sparkle in front of her, hoping she’s not being too blindingly obvious in how badly she’d like to know this woman’s name.

“Clarke,” the goddess supplies, flashing a bright smile at Lexa as she drops her arms back to her sides after running a thoughtful fingers across a nearby blushing rose.

“Clarke,” Lexa says again, enjoying how Clarke’s eyes crinkle when she smiles. She leans a hip against the counter, enjoying the sweet honeysuckle perfume that floats through the air when Clarke moves.

“Lexa,” Clarke echoes as she leans onto the counter again, a sheet of wavy blonde hair spilling from behind her ear as her head tilts. “I have a favor to ask, I’m afraid.” Clarke fishes a hand in her pocket as she speaks, pulling her phone out as she stares at Lexa expectantly.

“Anything,” Lexa breathes seriously, fighting back another blush as another grin steals across Clarke’s pink cheeks. Fighting the urge to go slam her head into the workroom’s wall, Lexa rallies as she bends over the counter to peek at the glass phone screen Clarke is brandishing expectantly at her.

Her eyebrows draw together confusedly as she focuses on the small screen in front of her, tilting her head to avoid the glare that’s shining off the fluorescent glare of the shop lights.

“It’s a Thai Constellation Monstera, and a beautiful one,” Lexa says appreciatively as she hands the phone back, marveling at the large, white-flecked variegated plant that takes up the entirety of the phone screen, potted in a beautiful terracotta pot. “That probably cost an arm and a leg.”

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Clarke grumbles as she stows her phone away again, expression akin to a flaxen-haired thundercloud. Lexa quirks an eye amusedly as she moves from the other side of the counter, bending to straighten a blush rose arrangement before moving to grab some greenery arrangements she needs for a wedding bouquet she’s making for a client this week.

Clarke blows a strand of hair out of her face as she follows Lexa around the shop, watching as Lexa collects fine clusters of white baby’s breath, swatches of Eucalyptus, and piles of shiny green leaves before heading back to the counter and dumping her spoils on the weathered surface. She snips a few lengths of twine as she methodically begins to sort through the pile to start the centerpieces, waiting patiently for Clarke to finish her thought.

Clarke picks up a strand of twine and begins toying with it as she speaks, watching Lexa work.

“My gallery owner gave it to me as a congratulations project for landing a huge gallery spotlight and increasing my clientele, but I didn’t know how to tell him I can barely keep myself alive, let alone a plant that costs more than a month’s groceries,” Clarke mutters, raking an aggravated hand through her hair as she moves her gaze up to fix Lexa with a pleading look. Lexa hides a smile as she meets Clarke’s gaze, neatly tying off another flower bundle with a flourish.

“Ok, and,” Lexa prompts, at a loss. Judging by Clarke’s reaction, she thought it wise to not tell her that the particular plant she had probably cost two month’s worth of groceries. “Would you like some tips, ownership tricks?”

“Yes, please,” Clarke breathed, relief smoothing out her crumbled brow. “That would be fantastic.”

She and Lexa beam at each other for a moment as Clarke jams her hat back on her head, taking a hasty glance at her watch before moving towards the door.

“I have a curator appointment in fifteen minutes, otherwise I’d love to stay,” Clarke says regretfully, one hand hovering on the door handle. “Can I drop by tomorrow to give you my address, and we can set up a date?”

It’s Lexa’s turn to look confused as she gapes at Clarke for a moment. Did she say a date?

“Your address…?” Lexa asks confusedly, reaching for her stool as she takes a hesitant seat.

“Yeah,” Clarke says hesitantly as she takes a step back into the shop, the door closing, a gush of late-autumn air swirling through the air as it does. Lexa shivers slightly, pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands. “I was hoping you could….come over? And look at the plant, and walk me through what to do and what special plant things to buy? I have only successfully kept like two cacti alive before this, and that’s only because my best friend tells me they thrive on neglect.”

Clarke twists her hands in front of her as she trails off, still looking hopefully at Lexa with those huge doe eyes. Lexa snaps her mouth shut as she nods once, still scrambling for words.

“I- yeah, sure,” Lexa manages to choke out, slamming her mouth shut before she says something dopey like “please can I take you on a date, you’re gorgeous and I want to worship the ground you walk on, even if you are a self-professed plant killer.”

A smile breaks across Clarke’s face, sunshine after a heavy rainstorm. She prompts the door open again with a foot, looking apologetically across the store as Lexa shivers again.

“It’s a date,” Clarke says with a wink, stepping so that only a slender hand props open the door. “I’ll drop off my address and number tomorrow and we can set something up. Do you have any allergies, by the way?”

“Yeah, sounds good, no allergies,” Lexa parrots back before she processes what Clarke said, the door rattling shut as Clarke walks off down the sidewalk with a smile on her face. Wait, what? Lexa vaults over the counter, barely clearing the flowers before she hits the ground running. She throws open the door, poking her head out and looking frantically in each direction before spotting a black beanie a few meters away.

“Wait, CLARKE!” Lexa yells down the sidewalk, giving a frantic smile to the woman who dodges her with a thin lipped grimace. Lexa is hanging out of her shop’s doorway like she’s flagging down a plane, garnering more than a few weird looks as she does so. Clarke turns and walks back a few steps towards Lexa, raising her eyebrows in the universal “yes, and,” gesture.

“Sorry, I know you’re late, but, allergies?” Lexa manages to splutter out. She’s never been as thrown off by someone she just met, and that’s saying something as her brother is dating Octavia, the human version of the energizer bunny.

“Yeah, allergies,” Clarke laughs as she pulls gloves out of her pocket and puts them on as she talks, the nip of the afternoon biting pink onto her cute sloped nose. ‘“I can’t let good looking girls fix my plant problems without wining and dining them, now can I? As long as that’s ok?” Clarke looks slightly concerned as she finishes her sentence, clearly nervous that she’s overstepped.

“Yeah,” Lexa breathes as an involuntary smile cracks her face. “That’d be great- I’d love to.”

Clarke ducks her head a little, a blush stealing across her cheeks before she makes eye contact with Lexa again.

“It’s a date, then.”

Lexa watches for a minute as Clarke breaks into a sprint down the street, giving a little wave as she heads off, clearly almost late to her meeting. Smiling to herself, Lexa turns to head back into the shop, a little extra bounce in her step.

If the next few customers get extra roses in their bouquets, they’re certainly not complaining.

#clexa #clarke x lexa #the flower shop au #chapter 1

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butmakeitgayblog · 4 years ago

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Clexa engagement please!! I’m also very excited to see Lexa be a bitch to Bellamy, but that one shot of Clexa going to Abbys and talking about how much they want to marry one another is definitely one of my faves. I’m excited to see how the proposal will go 💛

Ok, here's for you sweet anon. Bear in mind it's still rough and unedited but here ya go. A sneak peek of CoA Clexa engagement

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"No!"

Lexa startled at the yelp, hand hovering over the bag she had been reaching for.

"... What?"

Her friend shifted in her seat under Lexa's wide eyed gaze, shrugging lightly as she glanced down at her phone.

Again.

"Nothin'. Just, ya know. Stay for a little longer."

"I'm tired, Cos," she breathed, wrapping her fingers around the bag at her feet and lifting. "I had an 8 o'clock class and work all afternoon. Besides, Clarke said she was going to have to stay late and I want to have dinner done when she gets home."

Strained brown eyes swung back down to the phone for a second, lips twisting in thought before she looked back up. "Just… ten more minutes?"

"Costia?" Lexa smiled, hitching her bag securely over her shoulder and standing. "I'm going home. You can awkwardly flirt with Luna over refills all by yourself."

"No, that's not- dammit, hang on," Lexa heard as she passed, patting Costia's shoulder on her way to the coffee shop door.

"Night, Lu," she called to her coworker and stepped outside, stumbling slightly as a body collided with her back. "Jesus, Cos, what the hell?"

"Sorry," her friend mumbled after they righted themselves, fingers flying over the keyboard as she shook her head in apology. "Didn't see you."

"Yeah, I got that. You've had your nose in your phone all night."

Costia's head whipped up at that, eyebrows lifted on her forehead as she stared blankly for a moment.

"... No I haven't."

Lexa snorted at that, giving a patronizing smile and nod of agreement as she slowly started walking backwards. "Suuure… I mean I don't mind, except you were the one who asked me to hang out."

"Oh my god, will stop just walking off. Seriously, who raised you?"

"Wolves," Lexa grinned as Costia caught up, turning to walk correctly once she had pulled even.

"Lexa, babe, stop trying to be funny. You're not funny."

"Shut up," she laughed, lightly shoving her friend as they walked. "Why are you even following me? And I mean that as politely as possible," she hurried to finish at the frown being thrown at her.

"Is it a crime to make sure my friend gets home safe?"

"No, but this would literally be the first time you've ever actually done that."

"It's a nice night," Costia shrugged. "Speaking of which, slow down."

"I told you I want to get home-"

"I know, but just, like, slow down."

"Why are you being so weird?" Lexa frowned as they rounded the block of her apartment, gently shrugging off the hand that kept pulling on the back of her shirt.

"I'm not, I just… Just walk slower. Jeez."

"We're like ten feet from my apartment, why are you- what is happen-"

"Oh, you know what?" Costia interrupted, Lexa halting in place at the sharp tug to her arm as Costia hurriedly unlocked her phone.

Holding a finger up, she clicked a few times on the screen and smiled before stuffing it back in her pocket.

"Actually? I just realized I have somewhere to be."

"... What the fu-"

"Yeah, it's crazy. Have a good night, boo."

With that she wrapped Lexa in a quick one armed hug before spinning on her heel and started walking away.

Lexa stood staring at the retreating figure, mouth slack and eyes wide with confusion. "... What the hell was that?" she called out, finally finding her voice when the woman was a half a block away.

"You said you wanted to go home," Costia hollered back with a flick of her hand, not even bothering to turn around. "Night, Lex."

With an unseen half-hearted wave back to the lifted arm of her friend, Lexa silently took in the blasé farewell as she turned to walk the final steps to her building.

Mindlessly punching in the code and settling into the elevator, Lexa played over how fucking bizarre her friend had behaved.

Because while, yes, it seemed that just about everyone one in their friend group was a bit… eccentric in their own ways, whatever that was impressively befuddling. But as the doors slid open on the floor to their apartment, Lexa's stomach still rolling a bit as it always did on the final lurch of the elevator (stupid human equilibrium), she decided to chalk the odd behavior up to the woman's residual nerves.

It was kind of sweet, actually. How Costia had tried so nonchalantly to ask about Luna. Though Lexa thanked God everyday for being spared from the horrifying prospect of ever having to wander the earth searching for her potential love, she really had enjoyed teasing the hell out of her friend over it.

And with the amount of heckles her and Clarke had had to endure over the past four years, honestly she felt the reversal of power was long overdue.

Mind deep in thoughts of watching her friend trying and failing to effectively shoot her shot with the laid-back barista that had a propensity for getting under her girlfriend's skin, Lexa turned the key in the lock and shuffled into the apartment…

Only to hear music softly playing down the hall.

"Clarke?" she called as her brow furrowed, not getting a response while she toed off her shoes and hung her bag on the hook. Raising her voice a bit, Lexa started walking further into the apartment. "I thought you said you had to work…late..."

Her words died on her tongue as she took in the room around her.

Every surface was littered in candles made up of every shape and size. Flames swayed in flickering dances, splashing the walls of their living room with the soft golden pearl of artificial dusk. The air smelled of primrose and fresh rain, the usual musky-woody scent of their apartment now a pleasant undertone. But still there.

Still them.

Lexa's eyes wandered the room, blinking in the shimmering glow as her feet slowly dragged over the floor of their living room, the residual warmth of the numerous candles wrapping her skin in comforting heat.

It was a bit overwhelming standing in the middle of the display, mind sluggishly tumbling over itself trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Welcome home, baby."

Lexa wheeled around at the quiet words, feeling the air catch and swell in her throat at the sight before her.

The black and white tile of their kitchen glowed in the spill of soft fiery orange, equally as adorned with a smattering of candlelight as the living room. It was dim, yet brilliantly lit in an aura of swirling warmth. And stood bathed in a wash of its heavenly glow, was Clarke.

Grey eyes slid from the luminescent crown of golden hair, the locks looking more bronzed and supple in the wavering light, to the relaxed set of her lips, tilted with the ghost of a secret smile.

And then she let her eyes slide down further, heart roaring in her ears at the sight of-

"My coat."

The dark black material hung heavy over Clarke's shoulders, the sleeves a touch too long and the length cutting more toward her ankles than mid calf. It would have been a sweetly hilarious sort of picture if seeing it after so long didn't have the breath rushing from Lexa's lungs.

She'd thought it was gone.

Whether taken back to its maker or possibly, and Lexa had felt so sick at the thought she'd never gathered the courage to ask, thrown away during Clarke's few heartbroken days. But… there it was. Looking exactly as she remembered it, though the effect of its weight feeling so different wrapped yet again around the woman she loved.

"I uh, yeah," Clarke smiled, bringing a hand up to fiddle with the collar before smoothing down and over her chest with a soft sigh. "Surprise."

Lexa swallowed a thick lump in her throat before forcing out words with an air of confusion. "I didn't… I thought it was gone. I- I haven't seen that since…"

"Since you visited me that night?" Clarke supplied, nodding with a wry smile at the memory. "Yeah. I mean, I was pretty sure you were there that night. On some level, I knew… but I still just wanted to be completely enveloped in you… I remember arguing with myself about needing it to fall asleep."

"But you never-- Where was it?"

"I'd hid it from myself the next morning," Clarke said, shaking her head as she spoke. "Or maybe from you. I don't know. My head was such a fucking mess… I'd convinced myself I needed to let you go and move on, but... The idea of getting rid of it or- or you taking it back just made me so--... I couldn't handle it. So I stuck it in a garment bag and buried it in the back of my closet."

Despite the very serious air between them, the weight of emotion vibrating through her system, Lexa really couldn't help the grin that slid across her lips.

"Ya dirty little thief."

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#CoA feels #CoA #anon #clexa #don't get mad at me I'm saving the actual nitty gritty of the engagement for the fic 🥺#but the feels are there #hopefully

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onemilliongoldstars · 5 years ago

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better to be fake - chapter 1

Since she started at St Anne’s private prep school, Lexa has prided herself on her ability to fly below the radar, even if she sometimes is forced to waitress her classmates’ socialite events. That all changes the moment she comes to the attention of Clarke Griffin, the princess of the upper east side, as wealthy as she is beautiful and used to getting her own way.

Determined to shake off the hold of her over bearing mother, Clarke presents Lexa with a proposal that she can’t turn down: pretend to date her and she will make sure Lexa never has to waitress again.

–

please note the tags and warnings on ao3.

read on ao3.

clexa high society au.

1/13

"I hate these sorts of things."

"Yeah, I know. You've said so about ten times in the last two hours." Anya casts her a look from where they stand, backs against a wall, watching elegantly dressed socialites swing in and out of one another with strained smiles and tight words.

"Well it's true," Lexa slumps back a little against the wall, shifting her heavy tray into her other hand. She adds, sullenly, "They all look like they're having a miserable time anyway."

"Of course they are." Anya rolls her eyes, "don't you know anything about the Upper East Side? They all hate each other."

"So why bother having expensive parties and forcing yourselves to interact with people you don't actually like?" Lexa snaps, eyeing the glasses of champagne on her tray resentfully.

"Why are you asking me this stuff? Do I look like I belong with them?" Lexa hesitates, pretending to look her over thoughtfully and Anya grunts at her, laughter in her eyes. "Don't insult me Lexa."

"No," Her eyes flicker back to the long evening dresses and the expertly pressed tuxes. "We're about as far from their world as you can get."

"Says the prep school girl." Anya teases and nods her head at the returning waiters, "That's our cue, come on."

Lexa lets out a soft sigh, but follows the older girl out into the room. She shadows the straw coloured braid for a few seconds before Anya jerks her head to the other side of the room and she steps away, alone in the sea of diamonds and jewels. Her hands are trembling just a little, but she steels herself. She's worked these things before and just because there are a few familiar faces around doesn't mean that she will be recognised. She's just a dinner jacket and a tray of sparkling champagne to them after all and as she offers out glasses, stepping easily around the milling crowd, she feels herself start to relax. There's a certain skill to being invisible, one that she's perfected over time and she seems to manage it beautifully now, gaining barely a glance from the woman who used to teach her English and the headmistress of her school.

Just as she likes it.

She's been avoiding the group of teenagers in the corner, but there's no way she can just miss them completely unless she wants to be fired, so it's with a heavy heart that she ducks her head and starts towards the loud, laughing group. They stand together, heads thrown back in jovial conversation and she tries not to notice the twinkling accessories that drape their necks and wrists- the price of one alone could probably cover the rent of her apartment for a month. Tonight they'll put them away in velvet cushioned boxes and not retrieve them for six months and the thought makes Lexa's blood boil.

She holds the tray out to them, dropping her eyes to the floor in hopes that they won't notice her and she feels the shift in weight of her tray before she starts to move around the group.

"Hey, do I know you?"

The voice makes her startle to a stop and she freezes, eyes darting up to see the dark haired girl, in a dress that plunges at her neckline and is covered in black sparkles, who is eyeing her with curiosity.

"Uh, no, I don't think so." She tries not to stumble over her words, taking a step back from the girl who is cocking her head to the side.

"No, I think I do." Octavia Blake frowns at her and Lexa can feel the heat spreading to her cheeks as Octavia tugs on her boyfriend's arm, distracting him from his conversation "Lincoln, don't we know her?"

Lincoln turns and Lexa knows in that moment that she is done for. She wonders what the chances are that the earth will open up beneath her and sends a silent prayer to whatever deity watches over her, but nothing happens and instead Lincoln's dark eyes meet hers and widen in delighted surprise.

"Lexa! Good to see you."

"Uh, yeah you too Lincoln," She can feel all of their eyes turning to look at her, likely noticing her for the first time since she stepped up to their group. "How's it going?"

"It's good," his smile is wide and genuine and she clings to it for a minute like a life raft before he turns to his friends and gestures to her. "Hey, this is my friend Lexa Woods. We used to get the train from Brooklyn together, right Lexa?"

"We... sure did." Her words are strangled, tight and she forces herself to smile at them. Their parents sign her pay cheque .

"These are some friends of mine, Bellamy Blake," he nods to the guy with dark, floppy hair who raises his hand in greeting and then to the guy's sister, "and Octavia. Raven Reyes."

The brunette, clad in a silky purple dress, nods at her, smiling a little. "Yeah, I know you Woods. You're up to be Salutatorian right?"

"Only because you got Valedictorian." Lexa smiles a little wryly and Raven shrugs, as if the honour means nothing to her.

"Yeah, kind of a bore but it looks good on my transcript."

Lexa can only hum softly in agreement, pressing her lips together as she tries not to think about how much more time she would have had to study if she hadn't been in and out of work since she was fifteen. It's done now and Salutatorian is almost as good. Almost.

"And, that's Clarke and her boyfriend Finn." Lincoln nods across the circle to where the familiar blonde stands, arguing hotly with a dark haired boy and Lexa has to hurry her eyes away, trying not to stare.

"Well, it's good to see you guys but..." she raises her tray, desperate to get away from their company and to her relief they nod. "Maybe I'll see you around."

She knows she will, she shares almost every class with at least one of them, but there doesn't seem a lot of point in telling them that.

"Hey, wait!" The voice pulls her back around again and she sees the boy Lincoln called Finn reach forward to pluck a glass off her tray.

She turns again and none of them try to stop her.

Just a dinner jacket and a tray of drinks .

She'll happily keep it that way.

----

It's late and she's about to clock out. The party is slowly winding down and she has to get across the river to Brooklyn; her boss is kind of a jerk but Anya had pleaded her case and told the asshole not to make a seventeen year old travel after midnight in the city, so he'd grudgingly let her leave. She's just collecting her coat from the closet when she hears the slight thump from the door outside and freezes. She's no stranger to hidden make out sessions and she's pretty sure that someone was just pushed up against the wall.

For a moment she is frozen in indecision, caught in a closet the size of her bedroom as she dances between the door and the far wall, fingers reaching out hesitantly. In her coat pocket her phone buzzes and she sees her mom's name appear on the screen, asking when she will be home, so she steels herself and pushes the door open.

The hallway outside is low lit and deserted apart from the couple pressed up against the wall, as she predicted, a few paces away. Pausing to pull on her jacket, she can't help the way her eyes flicker to them, brows creasing when she sees the way that the girl is pressing against his shoulders, shoving at him. Slight squeaks and grunts reach her and she is about to dismiss them and start the gruelling walk home when she hears the girl snap, angrily.

"No, get the fuck off me!" She shoves him again, harder this time and the boy goes stumbling away. "I swear you're such a jerk when you drink!" She hisses the words and Lexa is about to leave when the boy, regaining his balance, goes veering towards her again.

Lexa's feet carry her towards them before she can stop herself and she reaches out, pushing at his shoulder hard enough to bring him to a halt.

"Hey! She's not interested."

The boy is breathing heavily and at this proximity she recognises, with a jerk of surprise, the dark, bloodshot eyes of Finn. Her gaze flickers back towards the girl and sure enough there stands Clarke Griffin, golden hair ruffled and dress creased, staring at her in surprise.

"Get out of my way." He's clearly drunk, his words slurred and stinking heavily of whiskey and she cringes away from the smell, glowering at him.

Her hands come to rest at his shoulders, jerking him to a stop when he tries to step towards Clarke again. "You don't get to treat people like this." She snaps and he growls and before she knows it his fist is flying towards her face. She staggers away, letting out a breath of angry, shocked air at the impact, her hand going up to hold her face as she peers down the corridor, bracing for another attack.

What she sees, however, is Clarke Griffin punching her boyfriend squarely in the nose with a satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She hears the blonde shout, furiously, "Stay away from me and from her, Finn, or you'll get what's coming to you."

She turns her back on him, marching the few steps towards Lexa as if the towering heels on her feet are no problem at all and squatting down beside her. Gentle fingers press against her hands and she feels them slowly eased away as blue eyes scan worriedly over her face, brows furrowing with concern.

"You're not in a great state but it's not broken." She tells her, in a voice as soft as silk and Lexa tries to nod, but the fingers shift and holding her head still, cupping her cheeks even as she sees Clarke's lips twitch upwards in a smile, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Okay, no moving. Let's get you cleaned up." She eases her upwards, helping her to her feet and a slim arm is slung around her waist. She can feel Clarke's fingers spreading like a web across her hip, hot through the thick material of her uniform and her breath catches just slightly in her throat, her eyes flickering from Clarke to her feet and back again.

Clarke leads them to a large, marble filled bathroom and she blinks as the lights flicker on and she is deposited on the closed toilet seat, watching the girl in front of her lean up in her light blue evening dress and start to rifle through a stranger's medicine cabinet.

"Huh, seems like Mrs Dwyer is on some harder painkillers than we thought," Clarke casts an amused glance over her shoulder at Lexa, but she can only blink, her head slightly fuzzy as she stares at the blonde, watching her intently. Clarke returns to her side moments later, falling to her knees and reaching up with a warm, damp washcloth to dab away the blood that has been trickling from her nose.

She is incredibly close and Lexa can smell her soft, floral perfume and count the diamonds of her necklace, following the beautiful piece down to her exposed clavicles and swallowing heavily.

"You can stop staring if you want?" Clarke's voice is gentle and teasing, but Lexa jerks back away from her regardless, her cheeks heating impossibly as she feels her breath catch in her throat.

"I'm sorry I... I just..."

"Hey, it's fine," Clarke soothes her easily, fingers running up to catch her jaw in a tender touch again for a moment, keeping her still, "I'm not going to complain about a beautiful girl watching me."

"You... you think I'm beautiful?" The question escapes her on a strangled gasp and Clarke's focused eyes don't move from where she is dabbing at her cheek.

"Of course I do, I have since the moment I met you Lexa Woods." The boldness of her reply makes Lexa feel almost faint and she struggles for a reply for a moment before Clarke beats her to it, continuing. "I don't know if you know me, I'm Clarke Griffin, I'm in your math class... and your history class."

"Yeah... yeah I know you."

How could she not? Clarke sits three rows in front of her in math and a row behind and to the left in history. She excels at the latter, but struggles with math and her friend Octavia likes to flick bits of eraser at her. Lexa wonders whether she could be considered a stalker, but really it's not her fault. One of the perks of being invisible is the ability to observe anyone around her and Clarke is the talk of the school for a reason.

"Well, now we can meet officially," Clarke pulls back a little and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, scanning her eyes over her clinically. "Nothing is broken and you'll be okay, just some bruising."

"Great, thank you." She's feeling significantly less fuzzy, her head thumping with pain and she rises to her feet carefully, stepping towards the mirror to flinch a little at her reflection, examining the bruises that are blossoming across her cheek.

“No, thank you ." Clarke appears in the mirror behind her, a hand coming to rest against her shoulder, her manicured nails stark against the black of Lexa's dinner jacket. "I mean... Finn's normally harmless, but..." Blue eyes meets hers in the mirror and her smile is strained, fear dancing behind it, "I was pretty scared then. So thank you for saving me."

"I wasn't going to just walk away." She can't tear her eyes away, tugged relentlessly into her gaze and she can feel goosebumps prickling up her arms. "Your boyfriend seems like kind of a dick."

"He is," Clarke agrees, with a sardonic twist to her voice. "And he's not my boyfriend anymore."

"Are you going to give him the memo?" She raises an eyebrow.

"When he's sober."

"Good. You deserve better than him." It escapes her, her words cluttering out over the marble countertops awkwardly and she stiffens a little, ripping her eyes down to look at her hands, clenched around the edge of the sink.

"Yeah, I think I do." The hand on her shoulder tightens and she looks up again to see that Clarke's smile has grown.

She can only nod, looking back to her own reflection and cringing when she sees the drips of red that have run down from her nose and fallen into pinpricks on her white pressed shirt. "Shit," she reaches up to touch it, but fingers grab hers to stop her movements. "My boss is going to kill me..." the realisation dawns slowly and she lets her head fall back, a groan torn from her. "Especially if he hears about the fight. I'm so fired."

"Don't worry, Finn won't spill." Clarke's voice comes from her side, reassuring and easy. "And here, I can help with the shirt. Just don't touch it okay, you're going to stain it."

Lexa's eyes fall open again and she turns, following as Clarke tugs on her hand, leading her out of the room and back down the dark hall towards the closet. Lexa realises, with a jolt, that her dress cuts low and shows off the majority of her bare back, soft, sun kissed skin and the elegant curve of her spine, the dark swirl of a tattoo peeking out from behind the sleeve and she feels her eyes widen, drinking in the sight while she still can. Clarke slips inside and Lexa lingers at the door, her eyes darting nervously down to the kitchen, watching for any familiar faces.

"Hey, come on." Clarke's fingers wrap around hers again and she yanks her through the door, into the closet, pushing the door shut behind her. Lexa's breath is caught in her throat and Clarke laughs a little at her stunned expression. "Sorry," she murmurs as she begins to browse through the coats, "didn't mean to surprise you."

"No, I was just startled." She rubs awkward fingers over the back of her neck, watching as Clarke digs in her purse for something, "I'm not used to being pulled back into the closet." The joke falls from her with surprising ease and Clarke looks at her with surprise.

"Oh yeah, I remember you were dating that girl in freshman year weren't you? You guys still together?"

"No..." Her eyes dart away, “She moved to London at the end of the year."

"Oh, that sucks, I'm sorry." Clarke grimaces in sympathy, "Here," She thrusts a bunch of notes into Lexa's hands and she struggles for a moment, mouth dropping open at the sight of so much money.

"What- Clarke, what is this?" She holds the money gingerly, uncertainly and Clarke shrugs over her shoulder.

"Just something to cover the dry cleaning," She says, as she hangs her purse back with her coat. "I wasn't sure how much it would be, so I figured that would probably cover it."

"There's almost a hundred dollars here!" Lexa exclaims, shaking her head, "and I'm not even sure where I would find a dry cleaner in Brooklyn."

"Oh," Clarke frowns, thoughtful for a moment before her eyes brighten and she offers, carefully, "Have you got another shirt under there?" At Lexa's nod she smiles and continues. "Awesome, then you can give the dress shirt to me and I'll have it dry cleaned for you."

"Oh... you don't have to do that."

"Please, it'll be my pleasure," her eyes are so soft and inviting that Lexa's fingers inch upwards and she's tugging off her jacket before she even realises what she's doing. "Anyway," Clarke moves slowly back towards her. "It's the least I can do for my knight in shining armour."

Lexa laughs quietly at the words, shaking her head as she begins to unbutton her shirt. "Honestly, it's no big deal. I just did what anyone else would have done."

"Yeah, but you're the one who did it." Clarke raises an eyebrow, fingers going to fiddle with the necklace around her throat as she watches. Suddenly aware of her audience, Lexa pauses, her fingers stilling as her eyes dart to Clarke's, heat rushing to her cheeks.

"I, uh... could you maybe...?"

"Oh, sorry!" Pink tinges the blonde's cheeks and she turns, the skirt of her dress flying around her ankles. "So," She speaks awkwardly, "How long have you been a waiter?"

"Just a few months," Lexa resists the urge to snort at the question, "So the risk of him firing me is pretty high and I need the money."

"Do you?" Clarke sounds perplexed.

"Well, yeah." She folds the shirt over her arm, straightening out her singlet a little self consciously before slipping her arms into her jacket again. "You can look, by the way."

Clarke turns, but she makes no move to leave the room as she leans back on a coat rack. "I just figured that with you going to St. Anne's money wouldn't be an issue."

"You'd think," Lexa quirks her eyebrows, her voice dry of amusement, but she continues, "Actually I'm a scholarship student. I thought that was pretty common knowledge."

"No, actually. You seem to slip under the radar pretty well." Clarke steps towards the door, opening it and gesturing Lexa out in front of her and she can't help but wonder how many doors the girl actually opens for herself over the course of a day.

"Apart from your radar," she observes, waiting as Clarke steps out into the hallway with her before she starts walking. "You noticed me."

"I did." Is all Clarke says, but the knowing smile lingering at her lips at the warm affection in her eyes sends a rush running through Lexa. Clarke comes to a stop by the archway to the rest of the apartment and gestures. "Well, this is me."

"And that's me," She nods to where the door waits for her and glances down at the shirt still held in her hands. "Um, sorry do you want me to go and put this back in the closet for you? You really don't have to bother with it, I can figure it out."

"No," Clarke reaches out, pulling the material from her grasp, "Don't worry, I'll hide it somewhere and get it back to you on Monday."

"Alright, thanks," There's a smile on her lips, unbidden but wide, pressing her lips upwards. "It was nice talking to you Clarke Griffin."

"You too Lexa Woods," Clarke lingers, watching as her unwilling feet start the slow walk to the elevator. "Hey," she turns embarrassing quickly to meet blue eyes and a pink lip caught between a set of white teeth, trapped nervously. "I'll see you Monday?"

"See you Monday." She agrees, not even trying to school her smile and it's only once she's in the elevator that she realises she is still clutching Clarke's money in her hand.

----

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Clarke's head whips around, looking over at where Octavia is lounging back on the steps, ignoring the people trying to file up around her, throwing her head back to catch the last of the fall sunshine. Her hair falls in a long, complicated dark braid down her back and Clarke watches, suppressing her snigger, as Raven bends over from where she is leant against the railing to steal one of the sugared strawberries from the pot on her lap. Octavia doesn't open her eyes, but she reaches out to slap at her friend's hand.

"Hey, get your own." Her eyes flicker open again and she sits up, looking through the rails at where Clarke stands in the brick lined, ivy coated courtyard, bag clutched in hand. "Seriously Clarke, what's up with you?"

"I don't know what you mean." She holds her head high, her chin stiff but she can feel the telltale blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I'm just stood here."

"Yeah and if you were a cat your fur would be bristling." Octavia points out, ignoring the way that Raven rolls her eyes and doing nothing when the girl steals another piece of fruit.

"Give her a break O," Raven chews on the tip of the strawberry. "She's just had a break up."

"Yeah, but with fuckboy Finn," Octavia flops back against the steps again. "Good riddance.”

"Doesn't mean she can't be upset." Raven points out and goes in for another steal but Octavia is watching through cracked eyes and darts forward, grabbing at her hand and yanking her forward so that she stumbles.

"Seriously Raven, get your own damn fruit! You know I need my morning snack!"

Clarke is distracted from their antics, however, when she catches sight of a familiar head of dark hair. Lexa's locks are braided up and around her head in a detailed halo braid, with a few strands falling around her face and Clarke is momentarily dumbfounded, caught by the sight of her sharp features and pale face, eyes like spring leaves cast to the ground. She has two hands fastened around the straps of her rucksack, holding it tightly to her back and for a second Clarke thinks she will walk right by her, but Lexa's eyes dart up and she spots Clarke's over eager smile and returns it, stepping hesitantly through the students to meet her.

"Hi," Embarrassingly, she's a little breathless when she speaks and Clarke clears her throat, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. "I, um, got you your dry cleaning."

"Thank you, you really didn't have to." Lexa takes the offered bag, swinging her rucksack off one shoulder to pull it around and roll the shirt up neatly, beginning to slide it into her bag when she is jostled from behind and goes stumbling forward. A few of her books fall, hitting the floor with a thud and Clarke turns, spotting Murphy's head.

"Hey, watch where you're going asshole!"

"Miss Griffin!" Mrs Yates, their algebra professor, snaps a warning from where she's passing and Clarke opens her mouth to argue when Lexa's hand tugs on her wrist, pulling her down to the ground with her.

"It's so not worth a fight," Lexa informs her sternly, but there is an undercurrent of bemusement to her voice and Clarke scoops up the book closest to her, reading the cover with interest.

"Yeah, well I like a fight, ask anyone." She laughs softly, standing when Lexa does and handing her the final book as she swings her bag back onto her back. "Looks heavy, you take Mandarin?"

"Yeah, I like it." Lexa hugs the book close to her chest but meets her gaze steadily, shrugging.

"It looks hard," Clarke eyes the book with caution. "I can't even do French."

"It just takes a bit of work, you get used to it."

" You do," Clarke raises an eyebrow, laughing softly. "I think you're over estimating me ."

"I don't think so," Lexa tells her, softly and she can feel herself starting to blush again, biting on her lip as she smiles nervously. "Um, I have your money by the way."

Behind them, the warning bell rings and Clarke shrugs, smiling lightly. "Give it to me later?"

Lexa smiles and nods, then teases with a twinkle in her eyes. "Are you just trying to find excuses to hang out with me Clarke?"

"Maybe," she admits, openly and Lexa blinks at her, obviously surprised by her boldness and she hurries on, "Maybe I want to be your friend."

"Friend?" Lexa raises one sleek eyebrow and Clarke smiles a little, eyes flickering unabashedly up and down the girl before her.

"For now." The words are something of a promise and she turns on her heel, Lexa's gaze burning into her back as she saunters back towards where her friends wait.

----

Lexa is caught by her linguistics professor at lunch and ends up wasting most of her recess talking to him about college opportunities, despite her constant insistence that she's already applied and been accepted conditionally to Yale and by the time she escapes Clarke is nowhere to be found. The next day she is late to class, barely running through the classroom door before the final bell rings and she spends her lunch break with Anya in a small deli downtown, talking about work and mutual friends over foods that she's sure would make Clarke Griffin wrinkle her nose.

"What's this girl actually like?" Anya asks around a mouthful of Cuban sandwich and Lexa sighs, resting her chin heavily in her hands as she stares down at her chicken sub.

"She's terrible," she admits at last and at Anya's cocked head, continues. "She's filthy rich, entitled, careless, basically everything I hate about the city."

"But?" The older girl prompts her expectantly and Lexa lets out a soft groan, letting her head fall into her hands.

"But she's also pretty and nice and proud and gorgeous and protective and clever and-" she breaks off to take a breath, giving Anya a look that she knows is pathetic. "Did I mention she's really hot? Like... unfairly so."

"Only two billion times this whole conversation." Anya rolls her eyes, "I don't get it, if you like her so much why don't you just date her? Seems clear she's interested."

"Because she represents everything I hate Anya!" Her voice draws attention, turning heads and she lowers the volume slightly before she continues. "And I have principles."

"Oh of course ," Anya's words are dripping in sarcasm, "I forgot you like to pass up hot girls because of principles. My bad. Totally logical choice you're making there."

"Shut up, you know I don't have the time to date anyone right now, not with things like they are." Lexa snaps, taking a bite of her sandwich as Anya clicks her tongue impatiently.

"So you don't want to date her, just fuck her?"

Lexa almost chokes on her sandwich and Anya snorts at her reaction, sliding her soda across the small table for her to drink.

"I'm serious, if she's that hot just fuck her and get it out of your system. It's clear you're dying for it."

"Okay, no ." Lexa shakes her head, "you're crazy."

"Hey, I'm older and wiser." Anya reaches over to grab her soda.

"Older is right, how are the crows feet coming, grandma?" She grins, eyes bright with mirth and Anya chucks a balled up napkin across the table at her.

"Shut your mouth, kid. I'll throw you in the fountain, don't test me." They settle into comfortable silence for a moment, both eating and flicking on their phones for a second and Lexa frowns when she hears Anya's voice, softer this time. "Hey, I know it's not really any of my business but how's your mom?"

"Still sick." Lexa doesn't look up from her phone when she speaks, eyes fixed fiercely to the screen until she hears Anya clear her throat quietly, expectant eyes rimmed with sympathy. She sighs and sets down her phone, meeting the older girl's gaze reluctantly. "What do you want me to say? The drugs get more expensive, she just gets sicker and she needs more drugs."

"Do you have enough cash?" Anya asks bluntly, voice steady but Lexa feels herself flare defensively.

"We don't need charity," She snaps, furiously.

"Don't be stupid," Anya retorts, glaring at her, "If you need money I can lend it to you."

"We don't take handouts." Lexa slams her hand down on the table, standing with the loud scrape of her chair against the cheap linoleum floor. "Keep your fucking money."

"Lexa!" Anya shouts after her, but makes no move to chase her down as she storms from the deli, letting the door slam behind her.

Anya’s words sting all the way back to school and she turns the volume up on her headphones until her music drowns them out.

She's late getting back to school, but she has a free period so it doesn't much matter and she considers making her way to the gym but she can feel the weight of her work pressing down on her shoulders so she sets a slow pace towards the library.

The noise she hears coming from the girl's bathroom makes her pause, momentarily. She considers walking on, ignoring it, but she has little desire to sit down and start on her Latin essay, so she pushes open the door, stepping inside and frowning a little when she realises the noises are breathless, angry sobs.

"Um, hello?" She calls out into the room uncertainly, "Are you okay?"

Only one stall is locked and though the sobs immediately quiet to a muffled, hitching hiccup, she lingers outside, knocking softly against the wood.

"Hey, would you like me to fetch someone?"

There's a moment of silence, broken only by the stranger's hesitant sniffles and she considers leaving, is close to turning back to the door when there is a shifting and the click of a lock before the door swings open.

Clarke stands on the other side, cheeks splotching with red, eyeliner running but her regal air still firmly intact as she marches past Lexa as if she is barely worth a glance, striding towards the mirror in black boots that Lexa knows aren't regulation - but of course, this is Clarke Griffin , so it doesn't matter one bit - and leaning over to start powdering her nose. For a second she wants to leave, because Clarke seems every bit the upper east side bitch in this moment, but she knows a defence when she sees one, has been living with one for the last three years and so she stays, watching from a few steps away.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks at last and Clarke slams her powder down on the counter so hard that it spills over the side of its little plastic case.

"Do I look like I want to talk?"

"Not particularly," Lexa admits at last, stepping slowly closer until she can lean against the counter a few paces away from the blonde, watching her carefully. "Do you want me to leave?"

"You think I care what you do?" Clarke growls it out, reaching into her bag for a makeup wipe to smooth away the smears of black beneath her eyes.

Lexa stays where she is, watching stoically as Clarke starts to reapply her eyeliner and it's only when Clarke curses for the second time, scrubbing away her hard work and beginning again, that Lexa realises she is still shivering with suppressed tears, her fingers shaking.

"Hey," she moves closer and lets her hand rise to settle on Clarke's shoulder, relaxing slightly when the blonde doesn't immediately pull away from her touch. "It's okay."

"I just... she's going to ruin my life . Why does she do this to me? Why does she insist on fucking my life over?" Clarke talks quickly, as if she can't stop and Lexa rubs her hand over her shoulder tentatively, eyeing her uncertainly.

"Who?" She asks at last and Clarke throws down her eyeliner, rubbing her palm over her forehead agitatedly.

"My mother ."

"Your mom is ruining your life?" She cocks her eyebrow, confused and sceptical but Clarke doesn't look at her as she turns and continues talking, pacing across the bathroom anxiously.

"She wants me to go to medical school, medical school ." Lexa cocks an eyebrow at her outrage, "and it's just not what I want for myself. Just because she's obsessed with being a surgeon, doesn't mean that I want to be a doctor as well. I just- I can’t even- not after-" She cuts herself off, biting down over her words furiously.

"You seemed pretty good at it when you checked me out in the Dwyer's bathroom," Lexa observes carefully, flushing at the double meaning of her words, but Clarke rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she continues to pace.

"That was different, I was just looking after my friend ."

"You didn't know me."

"I wanted to," Clarke shoots her an irritated glance and Lexa's eyebrows shoot up, treading a fine line between amused and outraged when Clarke waves her hand. "That's the difference."

"What do you want to do instead?" She asks, her earlier annoyance flaring again. "Be a socialite?"

"No." The blonde snaps, glaring at her, "I want to go to NYU and study art."

She feels a flush of shame at her assumption and softens a little."That's pretty cool," She nods, smiling despite herself. "I've seen some of your work around school. You're a brilliant artist."

"Thanks," Clarke cracks a small smile in return, "Try telling my mom that... she just demands that I'm the best all the time, but her version of the best. It’s just not who I am, not anymore at least."

"Well there's no point going to medical school if you're just going to leave after a year or so." Lexa observes, quietly, "it's a waste of time and money."

"Exactly!" Clarke throws her hands up, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "But she won't listen to me."

"You'll have to make her," Lexa crosses her arms, shrugging. "This is your life Clarke, make her sit up and notice that you can do whatever the hell you want."

"Right, you’re right.” Clarke is quiet for a minute and she pauses in her pacing, eyes fixed to the floor and flickering back and forth for a second, quick with thought before she looks up slowly, meeting Lexa's gaze with a ferocious determination that is almost frightening. "I have an idea... date me."

"Date you?" Lexa blinks at her, mouth dropping open in surprise. "That's... that’s not how girls normally ask me out, Clarke."

"Oh come on," Clarke takes a few quick steps closer to her, until she is backed up against the counter, nowhere left to escape to. "You know I'm attracted to you and I know you think I'm hot. My mother will freak out ."

"I'm not really... looking for a girlfriend right now," Lexa tells her, edging slowly out of her grip. "And we only just met!"

"We've known each other for almost a week!" Clarke counters, outraged. "Marriage proposals have happened in less time."

"Maybe in your world." Lexa raises an eyebrow, "but out in the real world we normal people take a little while longer."

"Time is of the essence! Applications are due soon!"

"I'm really not up for dating at the moment Clarke, I'm sorry." Her brows crease when she sees the bewildered outrage cross Clarke's face.

"You flirted with me." Clarke accuses her, face falling, and for the first time her confidence seems to falter. “If you didn't mean it, then... well, then that was really low Lexa."

"No, I did! I mean-" She stumbles over her words, "I mean I did flirt with you, because I do find you attractive. But I never thought anything would come of it! And I just can't handle a relationship with everything else that's going on in my life."

"Then just fake it."

"Fake it?" She echoes the words, mouth falling open in alarm. "Is this some kind of bad sitcom? No !"

"Seriously, Lexa you're perfect," Clarke drags her by the hand and pulls her over to the mirror, lacing their fingers together and Lexa tries to ignore the way that her heart thumps at the feeling of their palms pressed together. "Look at us," she demands and Lexa follows her instructions, watching her reflection beside Clarke's in the mirror. "We're a great couple," Clarke insists, a little more softly. "We've got chemistry, I find you attractive and you're perfect ."

"Yeah, you've mentioned that," Her eyes flicker uncertainly to Clarke's in the mirror, "But I’m not sure it’s a compliment."

"You're a girl," Clarke points out and she can't help but cut in.

"Ah yes. Ideal."

"You're a smartass ," Clarke continues, slapping at her arm. There is a playful smile on her lips and Lexa has to force her eyes away from it. "You're from Brooklyn and you have a like... edgy, outsider vibe going on."

"Edgy?" Lexa repeats, skeptically. "I have a 4.8 GPA and a perfect record."

"Yeah but my mother doesn't know that." Clarke points out smoothly and turns, their hands still interlocked, to look at her. "Will you do this for me? Just a dinner or two. You'll be doing me a huge favor."

Lexa considers, watching the girl and feeling the heat of her hand, the swell in her heart when she hears Clarke laughs. Where's the downside, really ? "Fine." She concedes and Clarke lets out a squeal of joy, throwing her hands around her neck and dragging her in for a stilted, unwilling hug before pulling back to say, her voice sternly somber.

"Lexa Woods, will you be my fake girlfriend?"

"I already said yes." Lexa rolls her eyes, pushing her gently and Clarke laughs, more loudly this time, and for a second Lexa feels impossibly light. Clarke reaches to grab her bag as Lexa digs in her pockets for a second, fumbling for a folded envelope as the blonde starts towards the door. "Oh, I wanted to give you this back." The envelope is crumpled and she pushes it towards Clarke. "Your money." She explains, redundantly and Clarke shakes her head, nudging her hand away with a slight smile.

"Consider it my thanks for your favor."

"You're going to pay me for fake dating you?" Lexa stares at her, somewhere close to aghast, but Clarke doesn't seem to notice, shrugging.

"Don't think of it as payment, think of it as a gift."

"A hundred dollars worth of gift, Clarke."

Clarke just shrugs again, stepping through the door without her and saying, with a light smile, "Definitely worth the money."

The words leave a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, and as Clarke saunters away she glances down at the money in her hands and tries to ignore the part of her that says this is a mistake.

----

#hsau #clarke griffin #commander lexa #clexa #clexa fanfic #clexaweek2020 #day 7 free au

138 notes · View notes

kokkoro · 5 years ago

Note

44 clexa

The snow starts late Thursday evening and for once Clarke doesn’t bemoan the fact that she doesn’t own a car. It’s an accident waiting to happen, and by the time she manages to get herself up off Raven’s couch and down into the lobby of the apartment building, what was once white dusty powder is now full grown flakes the size of pennies, piling up into a thin sheet spread out over the sidewalk. The wind nearly makes them weapons, but by now, Clarke is more than accustomed to the Boston weather this time of year.

She catches the 10:30 towards Charles and it’s pleasantly uneventful. The platform is dead when she gets off at her stop, just her and a few other stragglers waiting for the opposite train. She makes sure she has her bag and phone and then makes a beeline for home.

It’s only when she halfway up the steps, digging through her pockets, that the dread sets in.

“Shit,” she grits through her teeth, reaching for her bag positioned at her hip. She tugs the zipper open, and plunges her hand inside, pushing things around, trying to see in the meager light above her door. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Clarke rezips it, letting it fall back to her side, and checks her coat pockets again. All she manages to find is a packet of gum and some crumpled up tissues in her left and her cellphone in her right.

She’s dialing Raven’s number before she realizes it.

“Clarke?”

“Raven,” and Clarke breathes the name like a sigh.

“What’s up, are you alright?”

“Are my keys there?”

“Your keys?” Raven says, and Clarke can see the look on her face just by the sound of her voice. “Oh my god, are you locked out?”

“Just tell me if I left my keys on your counter and not lost to the abyss of the Boston subway.”

There’s a quiet grunt as Raven no doubt pushes herself up from the couch where Clarke left her. “Hold on.” There’s a moment of silence before soft rummaging carries over the line. “I can’t believe you’ve already locked yourself out.”

“Spare me Raven, please.” Clarke can hear the television softly in the background, the laugh track of some sitcom, and she turns around to watch the road behind her. Cars pass, their lights kaleidoscopic over the wet pavement. It’s peaceful, all things considered.

“Aha!”

Clarke whirls back around, facing her door. “You found them?”

The sound of jingling enters her ears. “Safe and sound,” Raven says.

Clarke exhales, and the breath expels in a fog. “Thank god.” She turns around, makes it halfway down the steps before–

“But now what?” Raven asks. “There’s no way you can make it. They’re shutting down the terminals early because of the weather.”

Clarke stops. “What?”

“Yeah,” Raven starts. “There was a news alert and everything. I mean I can come get you–”

“No, Raven, don’t be ridiculous. That’s the opposite of smart.” Clarke clenches her jaw, pursing her lips as she glances up and down the sidewalk. Her eyes catch on the soft light through the blinds of her neighbors window, and well, beggars can’t be choosers. “I’m gonna try my neighbor’s.”

“Whoa, hold on–and that’s smart? Just let me come get you, it’ll take me thirty minutes.”

“If you put one foot in that car I will kill you myself, Raven, and that’s a promise.” She takes one more glance at the adjacent condominium and makes up her mind. Her legs do the rest. “I’ll call you back.”

She hangs up, Raven’s affronted remark cut off short, and she stuffs her phone back into her pocket as she jogs those few steps over to her neighbor’s. The universe has one more surprise, however, and Clarke’s left foot catches a patch of ice hidden under the gathering snow.

Her leg flies out from under her and she’s never had good balance. She lands hard on her hip, catching herself just barely with hand, and she lets out this squeak at the sharp pain that travels up her arm. She gets up slowly, feels the snow sneak into all the crevices of her clothing and start to melt.

Clarke brushes away the bits before hobbling up the remaining steps. Once firmly in front of the door, Clarke knocks–lightly at first before a particularly cold gust of wind swirls up from the sidewalk. Snow slips down into the space at the back of her neck and she tucks her hands under her armpits. She nearly forgets to be nervous.

The thing is, she’s never seen her neighbor up close. Sure, when Wells and Raven helped her move in a week ago she had caught a glimpse of a woman bundled up in this dark coat and bright red scarf and curly brown hair, but it was just the back of her head before she disappeared through the door.

Here and now, however, it’s hard not to feel blindsided. The door opens unexpectedly and Clarke startles. For a second she’s too preoccupied with calming the sudden spike in her heart rate. That is until she notices a sharp jaw and green eyes and a wild mane of hair and her heart stutters for an entirely different reason.

Clarke blames it on the cold. “Hi,” Clarke stumbles out, teeth chattering, and the smallest quirk tilts the woman’s lips.

Her neighbor is dressed casually, dark jeans and a loose sweater, hair thrown over one shoulder and it’s effortless in a way that almost makes Clarke angry. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, I just moved in next to you. Clarke,” she’s quick to add. “I may have locked myself out.”

“You’ve… locked yourself out?”

Clarke grimaces. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

The woman’s posture relaxes, the line of her lips softening into an almost smile. “It happens to the best of us.” The door opens a bit wider and the woman holds out her hand. “Lexa.”

Clarke takes it and maybe it’s because her hands are half frozen but this tingly sensation spreads through her fingers and up her arm, pooling in her chest. “Hi.”

“Do you want to come in?”

Clarke nods. “Please and thank you. At least until I can figure something out.” Lexa moves aside to let her in. “Also, as a forewarning, there’s a patch of ice at the bottom of your stairs.”

“Is there? I’ll keep that in mind,” Lexa says, closing the door behind her. A brief pause builds before, “are you alright?”

Clarke looks over her shoulder, and the obvious concern takes her aback. “Yeah,” she manages as Lexa steps closer, and in the small entrance hallway all the oxygen seems to vanish “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Your hand doesn’t look fine,” Lexa observes, almost to herself. Her eyes rise up to Clarke’s and then she quickly glances away. She bypasses Clarke, their shoulders brushing in the hallway. “I can get you something for that.”

The hallway opens up into the kitchen, familiar in set up to her own just nextdoor, but despite the minimalism, character finds its home in random places. The wooden knick-knacks and scarce photo frames. The pile of books stacked on the table and the loose leaf papers scattered between.

“You don’t have to,” Clarke starts, pulling her eyes away from the various objects, but Lexa is already gone, presumably to the bathroom if the sound of running water is any indication. Clarke shrugs off her jacket, folds it over her arm and awkwardly finds a seat.

Lexa returns a minute later, pulling up a chair beside Clarke and placing her supplies on the table (a couple of bandaids, antiseptic wipes, and some ointment). Clarke faces her out of instinct and before she can react, Lexa sits down and takes her hand, turning it face up. The palm is red and scraped, but there’s hardly any blood.

“Does it hurt?” Lexa asks, scooting her chair closer, placing Clarke securely between her knees.

“I mean it stings a little bit.”

Lexa gives an offhand nod, gently rolling up her sleeve so it doesn’t get in the way, and her hands are warm against the chill that seems to linger under Clarke’s skin. When she’s finished, Lexa rests the hand down on her lap, taking an individual packet of wipes and tearing the corner carefully open.

Clarke watches Lexa’s eyes, the concentration and quiet confidence, and wonders how fast is too fast to fall in love.

#clexa #prompt stuff #im sorry this took so long #it could've gone on but like i wanted it done tonight #hopefully i'll be able to keep the rest under 500 #also to read more or not to read more that is the question #blah de ba blah #mistakes? haven't seen em but i know they're there

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konako · 5 years ago

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I’m very much considering writing a clexa dark date fic. Kinda waffling over Lexa as Dani (because she’s the commander) or Clarke as Dani because Lexa is very self sacrificing like Grace. It would of course wreck me so hard but it is a nice thought

As long as none of them die a senseless death ;_______;

But, oh, can you imagine the two as soft enemies, even if briefly. They “don’t like” each other, sure. And discussing reluctant alliances and strategic divergences, and it gets heated, and--!

But Dani and Grace.

Grace in her 5′10′’ of surrender and Dani with 5′1′’ of ABSOLUTE POCKET-SIZED POWER

#Anonymous

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lon3lynation · 5 years ago

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A Clexa AU Story that includes a soul searching road trip, long-distance friendship to relationship, phone conversations and Clarke demanding her car back from a thieving dick Lexa. Oh, and a lot of internal Lexa thoughts.

Chapter 3: Drive

Previous Chapter

"Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear And I can't help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear Take the wheel and steer

It's driven me before And it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal But lately I am beginning to find That I should be the one behind the wheel

Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there with open arms and open eyes

Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there, I'll be there"

Drive by Incubus

6 straight hours.

Over 340 miles.

Lexa drove through Pennsylvania from NYC, stopping only once at a rest stop for a bathroom break and a gas refill. Anxiety had kept her alert during the whole drive but her tensed muscles and slightly blurred vision would be protesting by morning.

When the sunrise slowly made its appearance, now in the State of Virginia, she finally allowed herself to relax and exhale a tired breath. It felt like she had been holding it in the whole duration of her trip.

She had lost count of how many times she had checked her mirrors, filled with the paranoia that a police car would be on her tail. It was a challenge to resist the temptation to speed. With her luck, she would be seen and pulled over for speeding.

If that happened, it all would have ended for her right there. Over before it even had a chance to really begin. It would be her priority now to avoid making any reckless mistakes. She didn't need to arouse any sort of suspicion. Lexa usually did well going unnoticed and she didn't want that to change.

She really wanted - no, needed - to continue this soul searching voyage of hers. It truly felt like whatever she was searching for, it was just out of reach. Her fingers ached to stretch and grasp tightly to what she hoped would make her feel like a whole person again and that it had all been worth it.

In Richmond, VA, Lexa finally made the decision to allow her body to get its much deserved rest. Her eyes needed to rid itself of its blurry tired vision before it would be too risky to be on the road still.

Spotting the next available motel, she made the turn into the parking lot and parked the Jeep into an available spot before cutting the engine. She grabbed her backpack before hesitating for a minute to snatch Clarke's cell phone and shoving it into her jeans' pocket.

Moments later, Lexa entered her motel room and collapsed heavily onto the full-sized bed. It was nothing fancy, her room, but it was comfortable enough and clean. She didn't need anything more than that.

Between the thrill of successfully stealing a car, the post-anxiety, the whole unexpected conversation with Clarke and hours on the road, she was truly exhausted. Lexa didn't want to move a single inch but she mustered enough energy to move her backpack and the accidentally stolen phone onto a nearby table.

After she had abruptly ended the phone call with Clarke last night, she had felt a greater need to get out and far away from New York. It seemed very likely that the car would've been reported stolen shortly after that conversation. She had made it clear that she would not be returning the car back to Clarke.

It would be what any normal person whose car was stolen would do, right? Lexa knew if she had been the one with a stolen car, she would've instantly called the police and filed a report. She wouldn't have cared to amend things peacefully if she had been the one robbed.

Then again, she doubted that many people would've actually attempted to call the person who had stolen their property and try to get them to return it. She was pretty sure that wasn't a customary thing that happened between criminals and their unfortunate victims. That didn't seem to fit the case for Clarke.

Clarke did say she wasn't going to give up, that she was determined. She said she wouldn't report the car stolen. Apparently, the woman liked to go against the norm and do things differently.

Like making Lexa feel almost guilty during their call before she quickly ended it. She couldn't have that. She had gone through with her plan, got the car, left New York, and she wasn't about to let a stranger convince her to give it all up.

If she was ever going to return to New York, then it would be after she had reached the west coast and if she still wanted to be on the road, she would travel back east. As far as she was concerned, that wouldn't happen for some time. Months, even.

So, she pushed it to the back burner, deciding that nothing would force her to turn around. She wasn't about to let some deluded girl ruin her much overdue soul searching.

However, the whole thing did leave her unsure if there was a BOLO out on the car or not now. If there was, then she would put one of the fake plates she brought with her on the bumper. If there wasn't a report made, then she would most likely hold off on switching the plates. It was irritating how unconventional Clarke made this whole situation for her.

Lexa sighed tiredly before falling back into the bed, kicking her shoes off to the carpeted floor with soft thuds. More thoughts would have to wait for later. Her eyes were drifting shut and before she knew it, she was out like a light.

Someone is pounding on the door so loudly that it startles Lexa upright from where she lay sleeping on the bed. She freezes in position as she struggles to process what she's hearing and what it means.

A stranger banging on your door is never a good sign. Her heartbeat is quickly matching the quick pace of the pounding and breathing suddenly feels difficult. For a moment, Lexa finds herself feeling like a scared kid, wanting to close her eyes and wish the bad thing to go away.

But isn't she the bad thing that's now apparently trapped in the motel room?

Lexa jumps out of bed and runs toward the door, planting her back against it. The hard knocks send vibrations up and down her spine.

"Police! Open up right now!"

Shit, they found her.

Run! Escape! Go now!

Her mind shouts at her but Lexa's only way to escape is already compromised by the cops standing right outside her door. There is no way of getting past them, much less escaping their notice.

They have caught her.

She deflates, not understanding how she was found so quickly, but knows that she needs to surrender now.

"Okay! I'm co-...", she begins to alert them but suddenly trails off when hearing a muffled countdown from the other side.

No.

She tries to jump away in time but the door bursts open, splinters raining down everywhere and there's so much chaos.

She falls... and falls into infinite darkness to be devoured for all the sinful things she's done.

"No!"

Lexa shot awake, gasping out in fright as she quickly searched the room for anything or anyone out of place. There's nothing to be seen or heard. It was just her alone in a motel room after she had fallen asleep on the bed.

"I thought I was done with these dreams," she groaned to herself before smacking her hand down on the mattress in annoyance. After taking a moment to calm down, she eventually sighed to herself. "How long was I out?"

Slipping out of bed, she did a full-body stretch and observed the clock on the wall. Apparently, she was asleep for only 4 hours before the nightmare had woke her up. She had not missed the dreams. It's been nearly 3 years free of them haunting her unconsciousness.

She initially began having dreams when she learned how to successfully steal and found herself loving the thrill it provided. That first year was the hardest for her to come to terms with what she was doing. There was a lot of guilt, feeling torn between her morals and feeling unsure of how the hell to justify her actions.

There was also the fact that she feared she would get caught in the act every single time she did it and that police would instantly appear to toss her into jail. Of course, Anya totally loved to tease her about that but she also understood what Lexa was feeling and helped her come to terms with herself.

The dreams lessened after that and eventually, it stopped for good. It must've returned due to going through with her plan last night and the stress that followed after. Stealing a vehicle felt like a much bigger deal compared to the usual thievery she did to get by. It wasn't the same as being her friend's accomplice when she did it either.

With a little more time to process everything, she felt confident that things would go back to normal for her. She would find a way to deal like always. Until then, getting some food inside her to refuel sounded like heaven. The next step of her plan needed some figuring out, after all.

Deciding the little cafe next door would do, she readied herself before catching sight of the cell phone that laid on the table.

Right, that too.

She needed to decide what to do with it.

Snatching the phone up, she left her room and set about ordering lunch.

There were only a handful of people inside, so Lexa quickly found a desirable seat by the window after receiving and paying for her order. Removing the phone from her pocket, she set it on the table in front of her to stare at while preparing her coffee to her liking.

She could only imagine what she would find if she were to turn the phone back on. Missed calls, she predicted. Possibly all from Clarke if her hanging up on her didn't crush the woman's hopes of convincing her to return the car. It was safe to say she was curious, maybe, too curious for her own good.

Her mentor would tell her that keeping it could put her at risk of having her location tracked and to toss the phone in the dumpster. Be done with it. That'd be the most logical thing to do to keep yourself safe.

However, she could make good use of the phone for directions and to see if there was anything worth seeing before leaving Virginia. If she happened to also learn more about the person that confronted her over the phone, well, it didn't seem like too terrible of an idea. It could be useful to her if she heard from Clarke again.

Unwrapping her sandwich to take a bite, she turned the phone on with her free hand and observed the blue casing adorned with stickers before the welcome greeting for Clarke popped up. Swiping it aside to unlock the screen, which luckily wasn't password-protected, Lexa found her curiosity peaked at the photo used as the background.

Three young women, two of them dark-haired and a blonde, had their arms around each other. It appeared they were all in the middle of laughing when the picture was taken. It made the corner of Lexa's mouth twitched upwards for a moment. Last time she could remember having a picture taken of her looking so carefree had been with Costia. Her old wounds subtly ached at the reminder. It's been so long ago.

Lexa forced the reminder and ache away to refocus on the photo. She had felt a slight sense of recognition while looking at the three women. Her eyes kept going back to the blonde and the brunette with her hair down.

Oh.

She hadn't been close enough to really see their features well enough at the time but she remembered a blonde exiting the driver's side of the car and her friend out of the passenger side. O, had been the caller ID from last night. O and Clarke were in the photo with another friend of theirs.

That must mean the young woman with blonde hair was most likely Clarke. It had to be. Surprisingly, her first thought was that the girl had a very attractive smile and she wondered what her laughter sounded like. There had been nothing light in Clarke's tone when she finally answered the call. Her voice was filled with anger, desperation, and eventually, it softened toward the end as she tried to get Lexa to trust her.

She would never admit it out loud but normally girls with gruff voices like Clarke's tended to be a turn on for her. It apparently didn't sway far from that even when being called a thieving dick in that voice. Thankfully at the time, she was more distracted with the whole escaping New York thing to realize there was more than just amusement at the comment.

Shaking her head free of the realization, Lexa was glad to remain guilt-free and felt rather confident that Clarke would do just fine without her car.

Clearing her throat, she took a sip of her coffee as she decided to look for extra confirmation by clicking on the Instagram icon. It was still signed into Clarke's account. Her lips parted at seeing the deep blue eyes of Clarke's after clicking over to her profile to see her uploaded photos. Her eyes had been scrunched closed mid laughter in the wallpaper picture. Lexa wouldn't be surprised if most people got lost looking into those eyes. It felt like you could learn a lot about Clarke and her emotions if you searched deep enough.

Lexa believed her own eyes were probably empty looking compared to Clarke's. Cold and closed off. Only Anya got to witness her raw emotions once in a great while. It was rare when she would allow herself to crack open enough to let any vulnerability out. She couldn't even remember when she last cried.

Clarke appeared to be her exact opposite. If anything else, she was a reminder of a younger Lexa when she thought she finally found her place in the world and was loved. How things have changed.

Lexa enlarged the most recent photo, noticing it must have been taken last night. It was of Clarke leaning against the outside window of the corner store. An opened beer bottle was held loosely at her side and there were plastic bags filled with alcohol sitting around her feet. Clarke had looked off to the side, showing her profile with a look of irritation.

Beneath the photo it read:

Sorry, guys. I started without you because my car got fucking stolen.

Lexa winced slightly as she glanced at the comments below. Clarke's friends had some choice words for her without knowing the thief would actually end up seeing the comments. It was tempting to respond and perhaps scare them but that would be a pointless mistake to make.

Clarke had replied to one comment to reassure she would still make it to the birthday party. At least Lexa didn't completely ruin her plans. It was sort of strange as her thoughts wandered to what-ifs.

What if she had met Clarke before ever stealing her car?

Lexa believed that if she had seen Clarke at a bar or a club, she would have pursued her for a rare one night stand. She didn't have those as often but once a while she needed intimacy and release.

However, that hadn't been the case for them. Instead, Clarke was a victim to her thievery. There was no changing that even if she wanted to but she didn't, really. What was done, had been done.

Exiting the app, she decided to scroll through several missed calls. All were from Clarke, she suspected, clearly holding her friend's phone hostage over the night. There were also text messages sent to her from the same number - O - which confirmed her suspicions.

'That was rude as hell, you know?'

'Are you going back to ignoring me now? My car better be in one piece.'

'I meant it when I said I wouldn't involve the police. We can settle this between us. It's a win/win. I get my car back and you stay out of jail. Yay?'

'Answerr teh phon e!'

'yoy are such a nasshole. Im drunk and wastng my time calling u.'

'talk to me? please'

"i was shocked to hear ur voice. Youre not like a buff mean dude w/ such a nice feminine voice right? Thatd totally ruin m y imagination.'

And lastly, a text from this morning.

'Morning, criminal who continues to ignore my calls and texts. I'm fine with you not replying to my drunken ones. But can you please keep the car clean, at least?'

Lexa wasn't sure how she managed it, but in between chuckling and grinning into her cooling cup of coffee, she eventually finished her sandwich. It amazed her how persistent Clarke was acting. It was actually a bit impressive, if not also entirely entertaining too.

She was almost tempted to text back, to goad Clarke into another rant and perhaps tease her about already leaving a mess in the car. It'd make a nice distraction when she could use one. It was still a hell of an odd situation, conversing with the person that she stole a car from, but she hadn't expected to find herself intrigued by this Clarke.

Maybe it had been too long of a time since Lexa had really spoken to another woman around her age, much less befriending one. Not to mention that she had been longing for something new, unexpected, and even challenging. Clarke potentially had those attributes and that must be why she had taken an interest in seeing how it would all play out.

It was also a major bonus that Clarke hadn't reported the car stolen yet.

Guess that made the decision for her. She was going to hang onto the phone for the time being. It would be no problem for her to get rid of it quickly though if she ever needed to protect her location.

There was just one little thing that Lexa swore to herself to not do since she was keeping the phone now. If Clarke contacted her, then she would answer her. As for calling Clarke herself, she was absolutely not going to do that.

There had to be a line drawn somewhere.

No matter how much Clarke stated that she could be trusted, Lexa needed to stay guarded, at least for her own sake.

With that in mind, she looked back at the last of Clarke's texts and pondered what to type in response. It'll come to her, she figured, there was a lot to think about today as she continued to plan out her next step and destination. There had to be someplace in Virginia that she should experience before leaving.

Soon, she spotted a shelf filled with brochures of different local attractions by the counter. She picked out a few of them to look through after dumping her sandwich wrapper and cup in the trash.

Sitting back down by the window, Lexa read about Virginia Beach which would take her over an hour to get to the coastline. There was a 100 acres public park and Victorian estate called Maymont. She would visit that since it was in the same city, she was in. Lastly, she learned about Blue Ridge Parkway. The pictures alone were of such beautiful views and she wished to see them in person. It would take her opposite of Virginia Beach and a couple more hours to reach one of the several entrances to the mountain ridge.

A plan began to form in mind as Lexa allowed the anticipation to build. She was really doing this. There were so many places to visit and experience. She hoped they truly matched her expectations and more like they claimed in the brochures. She was tired of disappointment.

Today, she would explore what Maymont had to offer. Virginia Beach and Blue Ridge Parkway would have her back on the road tomorrow. She was ready to witness all that this road trip had to show her.

Having made her decisions, Lexa picked up the cell phone and returned to her motel room. She was in need of a hot shower to further relax her muscles but first, she responded to Clarke's texts with two of her own.

'Are you aware that you're displaying the 7 stages of grief, Clarke?'

'Also now I'm curious to know what you were drunkenly imagining as you thought of me with my nice feminine voice, hm?'

Later, a hangover Clarke would happily grin at finally receiving a response. It soon fell when she groaned softly to herself feeling embarrassed at the reminder of her drunk texting but also intrigued that her car thief fixated on that particular one.

Wasn't that specific conversation sort of…

Flirty?

#There's Distance Between Us #clexa #clexa au #clexa fanfiction #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #myfic #Clexa TDBU #my writing

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orangeyouglad8 · 8 years ago

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More Outlander AU? Please.

[outlander!clexa]

It’s strange, Lexa realizes, being away from Clarke. It always was, since the feisty Brit landed in her backyard, but it’s even stranger now.

Now that they’ve crossed that line.

Now that they’ve been open and honest with each other.

Now that Clarke has heard someone call her Commander, even if she doesn’t quite know what it means. Doesn’t quite realize the weight of it.

But, last night it all shifted into something pleasant and full and real. The way the burden of Clarke’s secret lifted from her to settle more comfortably between them.

The way Clarke kissed her so tenderly at her door before disappearing inside.

That kiss carried her all the way through the night, where she miraculously fell asleep dreaming of a strange place in the future, standing and staring at the screaming sky with Clarke’s hand in hers.

Carried her all the way down to the barn, to her horse, and through the familiar path to the next town.

Carried her all through her errands.

Clarke and her soft, gentle lips. Smiling only for Lexa.

He looks shocked when she barges into the shop, eyes going wide.

“Good morning, Nyko.”

“Are my eyes working correctly, or do I see a ghost?”

She smiles and watches the tension ease from his large frame. “Did they ever work correctly?”

His laugh booms around the small room and Lexa smiles even wider, crossing in two steps only to be swept into a hug.

“I’m glad to see you, Heda. Last I heard…”

“It’s been a tough year, I’ve had to stay away... the bounty.”

“Aye,” he nods. “What brings you by? Don’t tell me you’ve missed teasing me for this beard?”

“While I have missed that,” she tugs at the long hair that extends from his chin, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Always with the favors.” He groans around a smile.

She digs around under her shirt for the small piece of metal she’s kept on the chain, close to her heart, for the past year. Once it’s freed, she holds it up for him to study. “Think you can make this into a ring for me?”

“A key?”

“Aye.”

He takes it from her hand and holds it up to the light, “It’s in terrible shape.”

“I know. It’s seen better days.”

“Why a ring? You’ve kept it around your neck this long.”

“It’s not for me,” she blushes. The floor suddenly more interesting than anything else in the room.

His realization only works to make her cheeks burn brighter. “Oh, I see, I see.”

Blood rushes through her ears and she finally works up the nerve to look up and meet his eyes. The happiness she finds inside soothes her.

“You’ve finally done it then.”

“Done what?”

“Tell me about her.”

“Can you make the ring or not? I don’t have anything else to give and…”

“Sit down at the table and tell me about this woman who’s decided she wants to put up with you for the rest of your stubborn life.” His fist thuds on the table as he moves past it to the fire, burning low.

Just thinking about Clarke makes her annoyance fade away, and she plops herself down in a chair and steals one of the scones from the plate on the table. Nyko gets to work building the fire back up and Lexa feels a serene nostalgia fill the room.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t get soft on me now, Heda.”

“Since when is being truthful a weakness?”

“Since you disappeared without a trace.”

“Nyko, did you really think-” Lexa can’t say it. Can’t form the words. Can’t fall back into that pit in her mind that kept her moving.

He stands then, fanning the flames. “In my heart, I knew I would have heard word. Had a messenger...something. But in my head…” he shakes his own.

“I’m sorry.”

“You did what you had to.” He pauses and weighs his words, “Does she know about the bounty?”

Lexa works her jaw, the anger that resides in the back of her mind growing hot at the reminder of it. Of Clarke’s face when Lexa confessed. “Yes. She is just as stubborn as I am.”

It grows quiet again, the only sound the crackling of the growing fire.

“How shall I size this ring if you won’t tell me anything else about your girl?”

She answers by throwing the last bit of scone at him, scowling at his booming laugh.

Lexa watches Nyko twist her key into a ring. It’s knotty and imperfect, but it’s hers and it means something and she hopes Clarke will love it.

She watches Nyko and talks. Talks about the men. About the plans. About Clarke.

And he smiles and nods and offers a listening ear.

When it’s finished, she tries it on. The metal still warm as it slides onto her finger. But something inside of her takes flight at the thought of it adorning Clarke’s hand.

“This should fit her, thank you.”

“It has been my pleasure, I may have taken just a tad longer than necessary just to keep you longer.” He winks.

“You needn’t have bothered, I require something else.”

“I’m not coming back to the clan, so you can save your speech.”

“It’s not about the clan. Do you still have those papers I gave to you before…”

Again she doesn’t finish the thought, but he understands her question and leaves the room, shuffling around in the back room before returning with the leather wrappings.

“Thank you.”

“I promised I would keep them safe, I meant it.”

She finally climbs back into the saddle well into the evening, her body exhausted but her soul alive after her visit with Nyko and the newly minted documents that are safe in his care.

She sways on the saddle with a smile on her face, keeping off the main roads and picking her way closer to the inn. Closer to Clarke.

She arrives tired and hungry, aching in a way she hasn’t in ages. She puts the horse up quickly, throwing extra hay into the stall and rubbing a soft nose before taking herself back up the stairs to a familiar door.

Clarke answers after the gentlest of taps on her door and Lexa’s heart flutters. She’s pulled into Clarke’s embrace before she even gets her breath back and it’s all overwhelming in the best way possible.

The way she hoped against hope that it would be.

Clarke’s kiss is just as frustratingly beautiful as she remembers and just like that her long, tiring day slices itself from her bones.

Lexa doesn’t seem to get up the nerve to talk about what kept her gone all day until she’s fed and content by the fire in Clarke’s chair. The other girl’s eyes studying her face, her frame, a small smile at home on her lips.

Her knees hit the ground without thought, offering herself up again completely and utterly to Clarke. Cementing the look on Clarke’s face into memory, and feeling that flame inside of her kickstart once again.

Clarke studies the twisted band in Lexa’s hand, searching for the right words to say and giving up when they won’t come. The kiss is enough.

Is everything.

“Clarke, there is still a price attached to my head. But I will protect you for as long as I’m able.” She almost chokes on the words but forces herself to look Clarke in the eyes.

“That doesn’t scare me, Lexa.”

Clarke brushes a strand of hair off of Lexa’s face, behind her ear. It’s that moment of subtle softness that absolutely breaks the chains of worry in Lexa’s mind.

Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand from where it rests against her cheek and slides the ring onto Clarke’s finger, sharing a small laugh with Clarke when it gets caught for just a moment around her knuckle.

Clarke twists it, her smile wide and unbelieving. Lexa’s hands rest on Clarke’s thighs and she relaxes even more, sighing when Clarke’s free hand threads through her hair.

“You’re exhausted.”

“Trying to be rid of me, sassenach?”

Clarke hums, “No. I’ve waited all day for this.”

Lexa feels her eyes begin to droop. The long day catching up once again. “We’ll tell Gustus tomorrow.”

“I almost told him three times today,” Clarke says around the huff of a laugh.

Lexa looks up at her then, feeling that pull that’s grown so familiar over the past few weeks. She sits up and captures Clarke’s smile with her lips, feeling the happiness radiate between them.

She keeps her lips against Clarke’s as she works her way to standing, pulling herself farther and farther from Clarke until they have to break.

And Clarke,

Clarke pouts.

And Lexa soars.

“If I don’t leave now, sassenach, I won’t be leaving at all.” Her own voice is dark and promising.

“You wake before dawn anyway…And we’ve already shared a tent.” Clarke tugs at her hands and pulls her back for another kiss.

“Temptress,” Lexa teases, promptly taking another step back and gathering her coat. “I’ll find you in the morning.”

Clarke stands and pulls the ring off her finger, handing it back. “You’ll need to give this to me tomorrow.”

“Do you like it?” Suddenly sheepish, she takes the uneven excuse for a wedding band and hides it in her pocket.

“It came from you, so I love it.”

She clears her throat, “It was a key. That’s why it’s all knobbly.”

“A key to what?” Clarke steps closer, trying to quell the uneasiness.

“My homestead. It will belong to you now, just as I will belong to you.”

“Will you tell me about it…?”

Lexa nods, swears it right then no matter how painful, “I will tell you anything you want to know, Clarke.”

“Tomorrow,” she smiles and places a hint of a kiss on Lexa’s cheek.

“Tomorrow.”

It’s a quiet affair.

Four of them standing at the bend in the river just inside the woods as the afternoon sun dips into the evening. Just past the spot where Clarke revealed her true self to Lexa.

Gustus, the holy man he found who would perform the rites, and Clarke in a new dress, smiling more with her eyes than anything else and holding tightly to Lexa’s hand.

Lexa blossomed when she caught sight of Clarke, stunning and calm in the dress that looks like it was made just for her. Watching Clarke’s eyes travel over the fancy shirt and jacket that pair with her kilt. The ceremonial sword at her side. Her hair braided back in the traditional wedding knot.

It’s quiet and simple as they stand next to the running water and pledge themselves to one another. Vows of fealty. Words of love. Promises both spoken aloud and only between the soul.

The ring eases onto Clarke’s finger with no trouble and Lexa knows it’s a sign.

Their kiss is chaste, simple.

But it speaks to Lexa’s soul.

Her heart growing and expanding to pull this impossible woman even further inside.

“My sassenach.”

#clexa #outlander!au #outlander!clexa #it's been a long year #and i'm so very tired #but it felt good to write this #and to imagine every other universe #where this wonderful #magical #beautiful love is alive and well #enjoy #and try to smile if only for a moment today #we've gotten each other this far #we can handle anything that comes at us #ste yuj kru #Anonymous

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