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The thing is, Lexa’s exhausted. And she knows it would have been better if she slept in instead of going for a morning jog just like every other morning, but old habits are hard to let go of. She’s just glad this is one of the healthy ones.
She’s been outside for one hour before she decides to go back. She walks this time, thus taking her time and enjoying the serenity of the morning. The streets are most pleasant when they’re least crowded, after all. The sun is a bit stronger now, and Lexa can feel beads of sweat on her neck. It really would have been better if she’d just slept in.
It makes her happy that she has the fortune of not running into anyone on her way to the apartment. As much as she doesn’t really mind interacting with people, letting them see her like that, all sweaty and red in the face, wouldn’t do for a good image around the block.
She slips quietly into the apartment, careful not to wake the neighbors, and almost falls on the floor the moment she sets foot inside. Luckily, she isn’t that exhausted and manages to reclaim balance before falling face down and possibly breaking her jaw, but her heart is still racing after taking a couple of deep breaths. She figures it out shortly after.
There’s a pair of high heels laying recklessly on the ground. They’re Clarke’s, and she’s been at it again, staying out for too long and getting home late. Except that this time, she’s really taken her time with the latter. Lexa’s been up until one a.m., waiting for her, but she soon realized she would be a fool to do so any longer, so she turned off the television she hasn’t even been paying any attention to and went to bed. Waking up the next morning, she was still alone. And there were zero signs of Clarke being there whilst Lexa was sleeping.
Her frustration with her roommate would never end, that she was sure of. Meeting in the first year of college, she didn’t think they’d be where they are now - both in a good way and a bad way. Clarke’s probably been the only one to remain her friend for such a long time, but of course there had to be a bad side to the situation. Nights filled with stress instead of a good rest became a constant in Lexa’s life, and as much as Clarke kept telling her not to worry about her, Lexa couldn’t oblige. She wanted to, but couldn’t.
“Clarke?” she calls out and takes her earbuds out. She leaves them on the kitchen counter with her phone and walks to her bedroom with the intention of grabbing clean clothes for when she’d get out of the shower later.
It’s not in her plan to see Clarke laying in her bed, her eyes shut and mouth slightly open. Her limbs are spread comfortably on the bed and Lexa feels something building up in her stomach.
Clarke’s naked. Completely. She’s not even wearing any underwear. She’s just there, naked. Without a grasp of what could have happened if someone walked in and saw her like that.
But Lexa is the one to see her like that. She wonders whether Clarke did it on purpose or whether she was just too drunk to remember directions to her own bedroom.
“Clarke?” she says again and forces herself to look away. She waits, but there’s no answer. Maybe she should go and shake her or something. No, she thinks, that’s a bad idea.
Thank God Clarke opens her eyes as soon as Lexa’s head starts becoming a collection of thoughts which really shouldn’t even be there in the first place.
“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Lexa asks and crosses her arms over her chest. She regrets returning to the apartment so soon. But she also doesn’t. Only slightly, though. Only slightly.
“Oh, fuck,” Clarke mutters and sits up. She rubs her eyes first and then grabs Lexa’s covers with the speed of light and covers herself with a clumsy motion.
“God, I’m sorry. Octavia found this really cool place and we had to go try it out,” she continues, her voice deep and raspy. Lexa can tell the effects of alcohol haven’t worn off yet.
“And you’re naked. In my bed.”
“Yeah, my bad.” She giggles. “I just felt like having a nap, you know?”
“You can just as easily nap in the comfort and safety of your own room.” Lexa crosses her arms over her chest and leans on the doorway, eyeing Clarke intently.
Clarke rolls her eyes and stands up, but falls back on the bed. A laugh emits from her lungs and luckily, the covers are still wrapped around her body. Lexa is grateful for that. She doesn’t know what she would do or say if the covers failed to do their job and revealed what was underneath them. Again.
“Help me?” Clarke says earnestly and looks at Lexa. Her composed guard is starting to fall and there is absolutely nothing she can do to keep it from completely coming apart.
She sighs and walks to the bed, offering a hand. Clarke takes it without hesitation and Lexa pulls her up. But they didn’t really think this through, because Clarke falls right into Lexa’s arms. At least Lexa isn’t drunk, and she can still think clearly with her brain, so she manages to keep the situation from becoming even more awkward.
“You smell nice,” Clarke mutters and Lexa can smell the alcohol on her breath. Their faces are close now - too close for their own good, only mere centimetres apart.
“I went jogging.”
“Mhm, good.”
Lexa takes a step back, but still manages to hold Clarke upright.
She can’t believe the mess she got herself into.
“Great. Let’s go.” Lexa snakes her arm around Clarke’s waist, placing her hand on her hip. It’s easier to carry her that way, she tells herself as they start towards Clarke’s bedroom. It’s like Clarke bathed herself in alcohol all night, because Lexa has to try really hard to not get drunk herself from just inhaling that god awful scent.
She hates the smell of alcohol.
Entering the room, she hurries towards the bed and assists Clarke in laying down.
“Hey, come here.” Clarke taps the space next to her once she adjusts herself and lets her head rest on the pillow. Lexa humors her, although with great reluctancy. She feels Clarke’s hand creep onto her stomach. I’m imagining things, she thinks to herself, but looks down anyways. Yup, the hand is really there. She’s really touching her stomach, albeit a sweaty one. And by the looks of it, Clarke doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she seems to enjoy it, which makes it even worse.
“You’re very pretty,” Clarke mumbles and smiles at Lexa. And Lexa smiles back because how can somebody not return the favor when Clarke Griffin smiles like that?
“Thanks. For taking care of me.” Clarke is staring. She’s got Lexa locked under her gaze, making it extremely difficult for the girl to move. Even breathing is hard for her now.
“Oh. No problem.”
There’s a kiss. A kiss on the cheek, but a kiss nonetheless. Lexa doesn’t know when or how it happens, but Clarke’s lips are suddenly warm against her cheek and the sensation that was building up in her stomach moments ago is worse, already in the stages of destruction.
And Lexa is giving in.
She closes her eyes and holds her breath, which doesn’t oppose a problem, because she’s having a hard time letting oxygen pass into her lungs anyways. It’s just a kiss on the cheek, but time stops and everything is still around them. Even the birds that have been chirping outside seem to have quieted down. She can’t believe her reaction to such a little thing is so dramatic. It’s like she’s been unconsciously waiting for this moment and planning it secretly in the back of her mind, and now that it’s finally here, she can’t even relax enough to breathe.
Clarke’s head is back on the pillow and her smile is now wider. Lexa thinks she might be falling in love. She isn’t, of course. They’ve known each other for years and years, and even if she did have those dreams sometimes and occasionally caught herself having those thoughts while she was conscious too, she couldn’t imagine them ever being anything more than friends. Good friends that don’t try to screw up their friendship by trying to make it something that it should never be.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” Clarke says. Her eyes have a certain spark in them, one that Lexa can’t quite figure out what the reason for it is, and her hair is falling loose around her face in a messy way. Lexa wants to touch it, but refrains from doing so.
Clarke closes her eyes. Lexa finds her annoyingly beautiful. Even when she’s angry with her, she finds her beautiful. Even when she’s falling asleep wrapped in covers that aren’t hers, she finds her beautiful. Even when she tries so desperately not to find her beautiful, she finds her beautiful. And that’s what screws with her mind.
She wants to do something, but she knows she can’t. And she won’t.
The smell of alcohol lingers in the air and silence settles around them. Now that there’s a fair amount of space between them and neither of them is talking, she can finally focus (or at least try to). She appreciates the silence. She can finally think about things other than the girl lying next to her. Except that that’s a lie and the only thoughts in her head are centered around Clarke. And there’s too many of them.
After a while, when Clarke’s already sound asleep and her breathing is even, Lexa closes her eyes too. She no longer minds the smell of alcohol.