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11:29, Lexxa: Meet me in the quad after class?
Clarke glances down at the message, laughing when she sees the timestamp. Of course Lexa would text her right before her class started, and not a moment after. After her initial amusement passes, Clarke feels nervousness start to collect in the pit of her stomach. After successfully slipping Lexa her number written on a coffee cup (a move that Raven had literally applauded her for), Lexa had finally asked her out on a date. It had taken long enough, with them dancing around each other for over two months. It was something that Clarke had been waiting for ever since she had first actually spoken to Lexa.
Perhaps that was why she was so nervous about their first date. It wasn’t as if they’d never spent time together, or that they hadn’t known each other for long. On the contrary, actually; Clarke had been hoping for this for so long that, when the day finally came, she felt caught off guard. It didn’t really help that Lexa hadn’t told her anything about what they would be doing. Clarke suspected that she purposefully did that just to annoy her, since Lexa knew that Clarke wasn’t a big fan of surprises.
“Whatcha got there?” Clarke flinches as Octavia vaults over the back of the couch to land beside her. She shoots her a glare, but Octavia just grins cheekily at her.
“It’s nothing,” Clarke quickly moves to stuff her phone back in her pocket, but Octavia nimbly reaches over and snatches it from her hands, bounding back over the back of the couch before Clarke can stop her. “Hey, give it back!”
“It’s a text from Sexy Legs!” Octavia crows towards the kitchen as she unlocks the phone.
“Perfect, now can you haul your ass back here before your pie burns or some shit? You know I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
Octavia waves off the complaint idly, dancing out of Clarke’s reach. “We haven’t even put it in the oven yet Raven, calm your tits.”
“My tits are fabulous, shut up.”
“Seriously, give it back.” Clarke manages to corner Octavia against the wall, wrestling the phone from her grip.
Octavia looks Clarke over for a moment. “Wow, you really are nervous about this, huh? You’re not usually like this before dates, even first ones.”
“Shut up,” she grumbles, checking to make sure Octavia hadn’t sent any messages on her behalf.
“I’m not surprised,” Raven says as she steps out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a black apron and leaving white flour prints behind. “I mean, she’s hot, she’s smart, she’s mildly intimidating—”
“Raven, could you just stop?” Clarke doesn’t mean for it to come out as snappy as it does. Raven looks surprised at her reaction. “I- I’m sorry,” Clarke amends, running a hand through her hair. Raven nods, but stays silent. “It’s just-” Clarke slumps against the wall. “I’m just kinda nervous. I know it’s just a first date, and it’s not that big of a deal since we’ve known each other for a while now, but… I just really like her,” Clarke finishes quietly.
“Aww, honey,” Octavia coos, wrapping her arms around her and leaning her head on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke rolls her eyes playfully at the display of affection, but returns the embrace. Raven moves to lean on the wall next to them.
“Ok look,” Raven begins, and Clarke strains her neck slightly in order to see around the mess of Octavia’s hair. “I’ve been watching you two for a while now because, let’s be real, you guys are almost as bad as before O and I were dating. But really? You have nothing to worry about. I mean it,” she says when Clarke’s eyebrows twitch slightly. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, particularly the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. She’s totally into you, and I honestly doubt that anything could change that at this point. You’re gonna be fine,” Raven reassures, stepping in to wrap her arms around both of them.
“Thanks guys,” Clarke says, squeezing them both tightly. “That really helped.” They stand in silence for a moment, hugging each other.
“Plus, you have a banging booty, so that’s working in your favor.” Clarke and Raven make various noises of exasperation as Octavia giggles against her shoulder, and the moment is broken.
“Geez, what is it with you and butts? I’m starting to get a little worried here.”
“Well why else do you think mine looks so great?”
“True, but that’s beside the point. Also, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.”
“You two are so weird,” Clarke groans as she wrestles her way out of the group hug. “Anyhow, I’m meeting Lexa after her lecture finishes, and I still have no idea what she has planned.”
Clarke notices Raven and Octavia glance at each other out of the corner of her eye. Suspicious, she turns back to face them.
“What?” Octavia asks, a little too quickly. Clarke notices Raven wince slightly, confirming her suspicions.
“You guys wouldn’t happen to have any idea what Lexa is planning, would you?” Clarke asks pointedly, eyes narrowing. Raven and Octavia look at each other, exchanging mouthed words, before Raven steps forward.
“Alright,” Raven admits. “Lexa came to us for help planning your date today.”
Clarke blinks surprisedly. “She actually asked you guys for help?”
Octavia laughs. “Yeah, it was actually pretty adorable. She was all kinda embarrassed and stuff. I guess she came to us because we’re your friends, and she wanted to know what you would like to do.”
“Plus, we were the ones who helped put you two together, so clearly we have excellent judgment.”
“Regardless,” Clarke interjects, glaring slightly at them. “Are you two gonna be good friends and tell me what I should be preparing for?”
“It’s because we’re such good friends that we won’t tell you.”
“Nope. It’s gonna be a surprise.”
“Not even a hint?” Octavia and Raven share a look before turning their backs to Clarke and huddling together (“Raven, watch your hands! I’m still here, you know.” “Whoops, sorry Clarke, O.” “Oh, don’t apologize for that.” “You two are so gross.”). After a minute of whispering, the two turn back to face Clarke, crossing their arms in unison.
“Ok, so we can’t tell you exactly what’s happening—”
“— but we can tell you that it involves being outside. And don’t worry, we checked the weather forecast, and there’s no rain today, so you guys are good.”
“Also, you might want to bring your sketchbook.” At this, both Raven and Clarke look at Octavia questioningly. She simply shrugs in response. “It might be a good idea, that’s all.”
“Speaking of sketchbooks,” Clarke says, checking the time on her phone, “I told Lincoln I was going to meet with him for a bit to discuss the collab we’re working on, so I’ve gotta go.”
“Well, have fun then, and remember, don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”
“Somehow, I doubt there’s much you two wouldn’t do, so that’s not exactly the best advice.”
“True.”
“I’ll tell Lexa you guys said hi,” Clarke says as she grabs her bag and strides to the door.
“Ask Lincoln if we can borrow his bike!” Octavia hollers from where she had already disappeared into the kitchen.
Clarke scoffs. “I doubt he’ll say yes. See you guys later,” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves.
Raven walks back into the kitchen, moving to stand next to Octavia. She hip-checks her with a wink, and is playfully smacked with a wooden spoon in return.
“Whatever. We can always get Lincoln to give us his bike later. Maybe we can convince Lexa to get him to hand it over.”
“Definitely,” Octavia agrees, opening the oven door and peeking inside. “God knows that she’s gonna owe us after this. We might be able to get away with more than just the bike, too.”
“I like the sound of that.” Raven frowns. “Hey, I thought you said we didn’t have anything in the oven yet.”
“There’s this magical thing called preheating, where you gradually raise the temp— ”
“I know the science, O.”
“Wow, for a genius you sure suck at cooking. You’re lucky you’re so hot.”
“Shut up, you know you love me.”
“Sure babe,” Octavia says, winking. Raven rolls her eyes, but turns away in order to hide her smile as she mixes ingredients.
Lexa stands at the edge of the quad, struggling not to fiddle with the straps of her bag. She had practically raced down after class, to make sure that she didn’t miss Clarke. On the upside, this meant that there was no chance of her missing Clarke or being late. The downside was that the continued wait gave Lexa plenty of time to worry. Although she had only been there for a few minutes at most, and it was barely past 1:00, Lexa found herself pulling out her phone to check if Clarke had texted her.
“As punctual as always, I see.”
Lexa feels a smile begin to rise to her face when she hears the familiar vibrant voice. She turns, preparing a witty comeback or remark as usual. However, her mind blanks and she completely forgets what she wants to say once she sees Clarke.
To be fair, Lexa had only ever seen Clarke at Elysium, and she was always wearing a uniform there for her job. So naturally, Lexa had no idea what Clarke looked like in regular clothes. Sure, she had speculated, but that had still left her completely unprepared for the sight of Clarke in skinny jeans and a black tank-top, with a red flannel tied around her waist. She was standing with her hip cocked and her arms crossed, and her smirk showed that she knew exactly what kind of effect she was having on Lexa.
“I gotta admit, I’m impressed,” Clarke says as she steps closer, and Lexa hopes that Clarke doesn’t notice the way she swallows at the decrease in space between them. “You managed to get here before I did, and I didn’t have a class beforehand. Did your class get out early?” Clarke’s eyes narrow playfully. “Or did the incredibly studious Lexa Woods ditch class to come meet me?”
At that Lexa scoffs, regaining her composure. “As if. As much as I enjoy your company, Clarke, you’re not exactly worth failing my mid-terms for.”
“How flattering.” The corner of Clarke’s mouth is turned up in a smile. “Although I am still curious, how did you get here so fast? I mean, your class can’t have ended too long ago.”
At that, Lexa shrugs. “As necessary as these lectures are, I don’t have to enjoy every aspect. There wasn’t exactly anything worth sticking around after class for, and I had more important places to be.”
“More important places, huh?” When she registers what she said, Lexa feels a bit of heat start to collect at the back of her neck. Clarke smiles, a slightly challenging look in her eyes. “So I’m more worthy of your time, huh?”
Lexa raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see how the day goes,” she says lightly as she turns, gesturing for Clarke to follow her as she begins walking down the path.
It was the first time they’d seen each other since Clarke gave her number, and it surprised Lexa just how much she had missed their interactions in the small time that they were apart. She wasn’t sure exactly when Clarke became such an important and comforting part of her life, but she certainly wasn’t about to start complaining now. She turns her head to gaze at the girl walking beside her, her eyes darting around, taking in her surroundings with an artist’s eye. At this close proximity, Lexa suddenly realizes that she is ever so slightly taller than the blonde. For some reason, the thought causes her to chuckle to herself slightly.
Clarke turns at the sound, a slightly puzzled expression on her face when she sees Lexa watching her. “What?” she asks confusedly. Lexa simply shakes her head, before giving Clarke a soft smile.
“Nothing. So how have you been?”
It’s a horrible transition, she knows, and normally Lexa would be mentally berating herself for her verbal clumsiness. But Clarke simply laughs at the awkwardness, and instead Lexa finds herself thinking that she could definitely get used to that sound.
They passed the time walking by talking about everything that had been happening in their lives since they last saw each other. Lexa talked about how boring her internship at the law firm was, and she ranted about that one idiot in her Political Theory class who never did the readings, but still tried to argue based on principal alone (this wasn’t the first time Clarke had heard about him). Clarke complained about the annoying customers as the coffee shop, and her recent creative roadblock.
“It’s just so frustrating,” Clarke huffed, running a hand through her hair. Her arms were littered with various colors of smudged paint. “I mean sure, the deadline for the project is still kinda far away, but it’s a pretty big portion of our grade, so I don’t want to rush it. But I just can’t come up with anything that feels right.” She blew out her breath frustratedly. “Plus, it didn’t help that Lincoln seemed kinda distracted today. I guess he was tired or something.”
At that, Lexa quickly averted her eyes. She tried to pass it off as stretching her neck, but she could tell that Clarke wasn’t fooled by the way her eyes narrowed.
“What?”
After a moment, Lexa spoke. “To be honest, I did spend quite a bit of time talking with Lincoln last night.”
“Oh?” Clarke tilted her head curiously. “You mind me asking what you were talking about?”
“We were just talking about our family, and about our classes… and about today.” Lexa almost mumbles the last part, but Clarke still hears it. After a few moments of Clarke staring at her expectantly, Lexa finally relents.
“So I may or may not have been a little concerned about today, and Lincoln may have spent a decent portion of his night reassuring me. And I may or may not have recruited his help for today.”
At this point, Lexa is looking steadily forward, and her blush has begun to tint her cheeks. But rather than being amused, Clarke finds her embarrassment to be quite endearing. It felt nice to know that Lexa had been just as nervous about their date as she was, so she reassures the other girl.
“Honestly, it’s kinda comforting to know that you were nervous about this too. I was kinda freaking out earlier today,” Clarke admits, and Lexa turns to look at her, curious. “But Raven and O kept telling me that things were going to be just fine.” She pauses, a thought occurring to her. “Speaking of those terrible two, they said that you asked them for help.”
At that, Lexa noticeably tenses, and Clarke can see her trying not to frown. “Don’t worry,” Clarke says quickly, “they didn’t tell me anything. They might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but they wouldn’t break whatever vow of secrecy you made them swear.”
“I didn’t make them swear to anything,” Lexa protests, and Clarke shakes her head, a grin on her face.
“No, I think they’re actually more intimidated by you than anything.” Lexa smiles satisfactorily at that, and Clarke feels another rush of affection for her.
“Speaking of which,” Clarke says as she stops, Lexa turning to her confusedly. “Where exactly are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” Lexa deadpans, and Clarke has to resist rolling her eyes.
“You know, that’s not really an answer.”
“Grammatically, it is.”
“Wow, you’re more annoying than I thought,” Clarke teases.
“And you’re more stubborn than I thought,” Lexa grumbles. Whatever comeback Clarke was coming up with dies in her throat as Lexa grabs her hand and continues walking down the path, towing Clarke with her. Clarke tries to focus on the road and where they’re going, but all she can seem to register is the feeling of Lexa’s hand clasped around hers. She glances down at their joined hands, and she can’t help a small blush from rising to her face.
When Lexa sees Clarke staring at their hands, she stops walking, quickly letting go and taking a step back. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly, looking at the ground. “That was rude of me, I should have asked—”
Clarke shakes her head, stepping in and grabbing Lexa’s hand again. “It’s okay,” she says quietly when Lexa looks up surprised. Lexa’s green eyes lock with hers for a moment, before she smiles and starts walking, leading Clarke down the path. They walk in silence for a while before Clarke can’t resist making another remark.
"So where are we going again?”
Lexa sighs exasperatedly as Clarke laughs at her expression.
“You’ll see.”
Clarke wasn’t sure what she had expected. Lexa had been acting so secretive earlier that Clarke had half expected that the whole date was secretly a plot to have her kidnapped by a biker gang or something. But after Lexa had grabbed her hand, Clarke had been feeling so warm and fuzzy that she had completely forgotten that they were walking with a destination in mind. So when they finally got to the lake, to say Clarke was pleasantly surprised would have been an understatement.
The path emerged onto the shallow grassy bank of the lake. There was no one else there, and the sun was shining onto the gentle light blue waves blown by the light breeze. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of the waves and the soft rustling of the leaves of the nearby trees. But the most surprising part was the blanket spread out, held down by several rocks and a picnic basket.
A large smile spread across Clarke’s face as she took in the vibrant colors of the scenery.
“A picnic by the lake?” she grinned, turning to Lexa, who was subly trying to watch Clarke’s reaction. When she realized she was being addressed, she coughed awkwardly.
“I considered the fact that we spend far too much time around other people when we’re together, so I thought we should go somewhere where we wouldn’t be… distracted.” Lexa explained tentatively, and Clarke was pleasantly surprised by how different this Lexa was from the person who was normally so refined and confident in public.
“It’s beautiful,” Clarke said sincerely, squeezing Lexa’s hand. She saw Lexa’s eyes fill with pride, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a shy smile. They stood there, holding hands, taking in the scene before them. Lexa took in a breath, and for a moment it seemed like she was going to say something. Instead, she exhaled and, with a small tug, lead Clarke over to the blanket.
“How did you even manage to prepare all this?” Clarke asked as they sat down. “Didn’t you have class all day?”
“I did,” Lexa responded, pulling the picnic basket towards her. “Fortunately, Raven, Octavia, and Lincoln didn’t, so I asked them to set this up, since I was indisposed.”
“I’ll have to thank them later,” Clarke notes as Lexa begins emptying the basket. Her jaw drops to the floor though, when Lexa pulls out a bottle of wine and two wine glassed.
“Where did you even get that?!” Clarke asks incredulously, mentally checking the date. Neither she nor Lexa were 21 yet.
"I-… I didn’t,” Lexa stammers, her eyes wide as she reads the label. The shocked silence is suddenly broken when Clarke abruptly doubles over in laughter.
“I—oh god—I’m sorry,” Clarke manages to choke out, wiping away tears. “It’s just… oh God, leave it to Octavia to sneak a bottle of wine in.”
Lexa blinks. “Isn’t Octavia younger than us?”
Clarke shrugs, still shaking with mirth. “What can I say? That girl is the sketchiest thing since pencils were invented.”
Lexa simply stares at the bottle, at a loss for words. “Incredible,” Clarke hears her whisper softly, and that’s all it takes for her to fall over in another laughing fit.
Lincoln, Raven, and Octavia had prepared quite a spread for them. As it turns out, Lincoln liked to cook as a hobby, Octavia was a stress baker, and Raven just really liked food. There was a variety of fruits and some chips, and Lincoln had made them some chicken salad to go with the sandwiches. Octavia had also included a slightly oversized single slice of pie for dessert (Clarke made a mental note to thank her when Lexa blushed after she suggested they share it). After a thorough inspection, Lexa admiringly approved of the wine Octavia had chosen, and they sat by the lake, eating quietly and admiring the lakeside view.
“How did you even find this place?” Clarke asks softly after several minutes. Lexa smiles at the question, taking another sip of her wine before answering.
“I found it while I was out running a while back. I was curious where that particular route lead, and I ended up here.” She stares out across the lake. “Not many people bother coming here because the walk is so long. But I like the privacy. Sometimes Lincoln comes with me to draw or paint.”
“It’s amazing,” Clarke says, awe coloring her voice as she looks around once more. No matter how many times she takes in her surroundings, it always feels fresh and new to her eyes. It feels as if everything is moving, constantly changing colors, the light shifting slowly with the sun’s movements. Despite the almost complete silence, Clarke is surrounded by the sensation that the place is unmistakably alive.
Clarke jumps when a sudden harsh noise pierces up the bank. She is even more surprised at the light and melodic laugh that floats out of Lexa. She looks at the other girl, puzzled, and then follows her gaze down to the edge of the lake. A sound of amazement escapes her when a small family of ducks swims round the corner, the ducklings forming a scraggly little line behind the mother. Her smile grows even wider when more ducks float into view. All of a sudden, something small flies through the air, landing in the middle of the group of ducks with a small splash. Clarke frowns, looking for the source, only for her jaw to drop when she sees Lexa holding a small bag of what looks like corn.
Lexa cocks her arm back, but freezes mid-throw when she sees Clarke staring at her. “What?” she asks uncertainly.
“That’s corn.” Lexa nods slowly. An amazed smile slowly stretches across Clarke’s face. “You brought corn for the ducks? Specifically to feed the ducks?” she laughs.
Lexa feels the tips of her ears begin to turn red as she lowers her arm. “I admit, it is a bit childish,” she says quietly. “It’s just something I always did growing up, and… old habits die hard…” she trails off, embarrassed.
Seeing her mistake, Clarke leans over, gently laying a hand on Lexa’s knee. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you,” she apologizes. Lexa looks at her, her face still a little red with embarrassment.
“I was just a little surprised, because you act all badass and aloof and stuff, but, feeding the ducks, it’s… well, it’s cute,” Clarke finishes, smiling. Lexa tentatively smiles back, before offering her the bag. With a small laugh, Clarke reaches in, her fingers brushing Lexa’s hand slightly. They sit in comfortable silence, throwing corn and watching the ducks dive into the water for the food.
Clarke watches Lexa, marveling at the contrast. Normally, Lexa always carried this aura of authority, of self-assuredness. She always looked so centered, as if she was always in complete control over herself and the environment around her. But now, when it was just the two of them, it was like Lexa had stopped consciously projecting that image of herself. Raven had once joked that the only way to get Lexa to relax would be to slip barbiturates into her coffee. And yet here she was, lying down on the side of a lake, her hair down and her sleeves rolled up, smiling as she fed ducks. Seeing her like this, with all of her walls down, Clarke is amazed that this could possibly be the same person that she met at the coffee shop. One thing was for sure, she liked this version of Lexa a lot more.
The scene feels so perfect that Clarke almost doesn’t want to move, for fear she would disturb it. Clarke tries to reach for her bag with as little movement as possible, but it was still enough to attract Lexa’s attention.
“Is something wrong?” Lexa asks, sitting up. The way her hair falls over her shoulder as she moves almost causes Clarke’s brain to stop working, but she shakes it off.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said quickly. “Actually, it’s the opposite. Everything is so beautiful, the water, the picnic, the ducks.” You, she adds silently in her head, the thought making her unable to meet Lexa’s eyes, before continuing. “It’s such a perfect moment, and, well… I wanted to draw it. Is that ok?” she asks, looking up when Lexa doesn’t respond.
She loses her breath when she makes eye contact. Lexa is looking at her as if this is the first time she really sees her. Her eyes are shining and full of wonder, and her lips are parted as if she had forgotten about herself. Clarke had never been one for eloquent words, but the way that Lexa looks at her in that moment makes her feel like she is made of stars. She wonders how it is even possible for someone to make her feel this way.
Lexa comes back to herself all of a sudden, and she turns away hurriedly, coughing awkwardly. “Yes, that’s fine,” she mumbles slightly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear self-consciously. Clarke is left still reeling from the sensation, but she recovers and quickly moves to grab her sketchbook, not wanting to miss a single second.
She’s initially torn about what she wants to put on the paper first, but she eventually settles for drawing the bank first, smudging the lines heavily to create a blended, grassy texture. The lake is a little harder, with the wind and the light causing the surface to shift constantly, but after a few tries she is satisfied with the shape of the waves. She smiles when she adds the ducks, making sure to have some of the ducklings diving into the water, their rear ends sticking up to the sky. Next comes the edge of the blanket they’re sitting on and the picnic. She can’t resist keeping Octavia’s warning post-it to Raven in, the colorful language somehow adding a familiar touch to the scene. She shades in the sparse clouds hanging over the lake and adds the light streaming from overhead. She moves slowly, deliberately, wanting to make sure that every detail is exactly right, trying her best to capture every sensation, every sight and feeling of the moment.
And then there is Lexa. Clarke spends the most time drawing her, because for some reason, she just can’t seem to capture the right feeling. No matter how many times she tries to draw the folds of Lexa’s shirt, or how many different ways she tries to draw Lexa’s curls, or the curve of her lips, it just feels incomplete. She can’t find the right shade for her eyes, or draw her in the right posture, and she can’t for the life of her decide how to draw Lexa’s hands. There is just something so deep about Lexa, so concentrated and full and undefinable, that she doesn’t know how to put on paper.
Ironically, it’s when she takes a break to rest her hand that it happens. She takes a breath and looks out to the water, when she notices the group of ducks swimming away down the bank. She pouts a little and turns to point it out to Lexa, but she stops immediately. Because Lexa is leaning back, her head tilted exposing her neck, her eyes closed and her hair cascading down behind her. In that instant, Clarke sees Lexa completely open and unguarded, content to just let the world wash over her, and Clarke begins to feel her insides swell with an indescribable emotion, that Lexa would feel safe enough to show this side of herself to her. Swallowing thickly, Clarke fumbles for her pencil, bending over to put the image to paper, although she doubts that she could ever forget it. She hears Lexa let out an amused breath, but she doesn’t lift her head, determined to finish her artwork.
She sighs heavily when she finishes, letting out a breath that she wasn’t aware she had been holding. She groans slightly as she rotates her wrist, stretching out the sore muscles. Her breath catches when she sees Lexa looking at her with that same luminescent look from before.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Clarke rasps slightly, her voice a little hoarse from disuse. She notices that the sun has moved far from when she started, and she winces slightly at the passage of time. But Lexa simply shakes her head, smiling slightly.
“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” She gestures towards the sketchbook. “May I?”
Clarke nods, but instead of handing it over, she scoots her way across the blanket until she is next to Lexa. She can’t help the small spark of joy she feels when she hears Lexa’s quick intake of breath as she settles next to her, their legs brushing. She lays the sketchbook across both of their laps so that Lexa can see it.
Once again, Clarke finds herself watching Lexa as the other girl examines the drawing. Her eyes flitter over the page, as if she can’t seem to settle on what to look at first. Her fingers hover tentatively, afraid of brushing the paper for fear of smudging the precise lines. The way that Lexa’s attention roves so painstakingly over the whole thing makes it look as though Lexa is not merely seeing the picture, but is feeling it too. The emotions that went into it, the feelings, the sensation as if time had stopped specifically to capture a snapshot of that one moment. Her movements stutter slightly when she reaches the image, laid out in graphite, of her, poised and peaceful, and open to the world for only Clarke to see. Clarke bites her lip, trying to gauge the other girl’s reaction. Lexa is staring at the drawing, her expression frozen on her face.
“I wasn’t sure how it turned out,” Clarke finds herself babbling a bit nervously. “I tried to get the water right, but the light kept shifting with the waves, and I didn’t really have time to make it super detailed, and I’m not sure I got the right number of ducks in there…” She trails off when Lexa turns to look at her, her face unreadable. “…did it turn out alright?” Clarke asks hopefully. Lexa doesn’t say anything, and Clarke briefly wonders if she did something wrong.
Then suddenly Lexa is leaning forward, and Clarke completely forgets about the drawing when their lips touch.
The kiss takes her by surprise. It’s quick and soft, and Lexa’s nose bumps hers awkwardly. But just like everything else about Lexa, it gives Clarke a sudden delightful swooping sensation in her stomach. She barely has time to register it though, because as quick as she leaned in, Lexa pulls back almost immediately, her face flushed red, apologies flowing out.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—what I mean is, I should have asked, and I’m sorry, but I just—” Clarke cuts her off by grabbing the collar of her shirt and pulling her in for another kiss.
Both of their lips are slightly dry, and they stick together a bit at first, but that doesn’t stop Clarke from taking Lexa’s bottom lip in between her own. Lexa tastes like the wine, dark and heavy, but there is a touch of sweetness lingering on the inside of her lips. Clarke breathes through her nose, inhaling the scent of the grass and the smell of Lexa’s skin, of her hair. Her hand is on the back of Lexa’s neck, pulling her close, and she can feel Lexa’s hand holding her waist as they kiss. Lexa takes a shuddering breath, and something about the sound reminds Clarke of the waves, or the way stars shine. In the back of her mind, Clarke thinks that nothing has ever made her feel so high, yet so grounded at the same time.
Eventually they break apart, but they keep their foreheads pressed together. They stay there for a while, just breathing in each other’s air and taking in the other person’s presence. Lexa’s eyes are closed peacefully, her thumb rubbing small circles at Clarke’s hip. Clarke gently strokes her fingers across Lexa’s cheek, and she smiles at the soft sigh that the other girl lets out.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
At that, Lexa’s eyes open, and she tries to frown unsuccessfully with her forehead pressed against Clarke’s. “What do you mean?”
"About my drawing. You still haven’t told me what you think of it.”
After a beat, Lexa pulls back and fixes Clarke with a deadpan stare.
“Are you serious?”
“Completely,” Clarke says, her grin contradicting her words. Lexa narrows her eyes at her before sitting up and crossing her arms. Clarke mirrors her posture.
“No.”
“Aw, come on, you have to. It’s like, common courtesy.”
“Says who?”
“Says pretty much every artist ever. Come on, Lex, just tell me what you thought. You have to.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” Clarke pokes Lexa in the side. She doesn’t miss the way Lexa stiffens and the corner of her mouth twitches. A sly grin spreads across her face.
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Yes, you do. Out with it.”
“I refuse.”
“Last chance, Lexa,” Clarke warns. Lexa raises her eyebrow challengingly, daring Clarke to do something. Clarke spontaneously launches herself at Lexa, knocking her over and attacking her sides with her fingers. She shouts triumphantly when she feels Lexa’s body begin to shake with laughter as Clarke tickles her.
“Say it!”
“N-no!” Lexa manages to choke out, which only inspires Clarke to redouble her efforts. She climbs on top of Lexa to get better access. Lexa’s eyes squeeze shut and her mouth falls open in noiseless laughter as Clarke’s fingers dance across her stomach.
Finally, Lexa manages to get enough breath to squeeze out an answer between laughs. “Stop!” she blurts out. “It was perfect, it was beautiful, you’re beautiful, just stop, oh god.”
Clarke momentarily freezes when she registers the second thing that Lexa says. She brushes it off as desperation, but she can’t ignore the butterflies that fill her stomach at the thought of Lexa thinking that.
“Serves you right,” she crows victoriously, sitting back. With a jolt she realizes that she is essentially straddling Lexa’s lap, but at this point it’s too late to climb off, so she just hopes for the best.
Lexa lies there for a few moments, trying to catch her breath and calm her residual giggling. Eventually she raises herself up on her elbows to look at Clarke, who is sitting in her lap semi-awkwardly, trying her hardest not to move. Her flannel is tousled and hanging slightly off of one shoulder, her hair is a little ruffled, and there are pencil smudges on her fingers and even a few on her face. Lexa finds herself wondering exactly how she managed to find someone as breathtaking and amazing as Clarke Griffin. She smiles at Clarke, who seems a bit taken aback by her expression.
“I meant what I said earlier.”
“About the drawing?” Clarke deflects.
Lexa shakes her head with amusement. “That as well, but I was referring to what I said after that. You really are beautiful, you know.”
Clarke feels her heart swell, and the butterflies in her stomach return with twice the intensity. And Lexa is looking up at her with such tenderness in her eyes that Clarke isn’t sure that she can bear it. She leans forward, her hands braced on either side of Lexa holding herself up. She chuckles slightly when Lexa closes her eyes and tilts her head upwards in anticipation. With a smirk, Clarke bends down and presses her lips to Lexa’s forehead. She laughs when she feels the other girl huff in disappointment. She gently glides her lips down the bridge of Lexa’s nose, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose, before finally tilting her head and capturing her lips in another kiss.
This kiss is slower, more languid. Their lips move against each other unhurriedly, and they are content to just be there in that moment. It feels like something deep inside of Clarke is finally sliding into place, something that she hadn’t even know was missing. She sighs into Lexa’s mouth at the relief, and she can feel Lexa smile into the kiss.
Although she found the thought of kissing Lexa for the rest of the day to be very appealing, Clarke breaks free from the kiss, their lips separating with a light smack. She climbs off of Lexa, much to the other girl’s disappointment, she notices. But before Lexa can move, Clarke quickly maneuvers herself to Lexa’s side and quickly cuddles up to her, laying her head on Lexa’s chest and draping an arm across her stomach. Lexa stiffens in surprise as Clarke wiggles to make herself comfortable, but she quickly relaxes, laying back and wrapping an arm around Clarke.
“Thank you, for everything,” Clarke says from where she is nestled into Lexa’s body. Lexa smiles, laying her cheek on the top of Clarke’s head.
“You’re welcome. Did you enjoy today?”
Clarke closes her eyes, losing herself for a moment in Lexa’s warmth and the sound of her slightly-too-fast heartbeat.
“It was perfect.”