beneath the slate grey sky

Sometimes, Lexa feels like she was born into this world already fighting. Her hands balled into fists, her jawline clenched, her body tense and on guard, ready. Sometimes, she felt like the bubbling well of fury that simmered underneath her skin was the only thing that sustained her, kept her alive, and that if she paused – took stock, took a breath and let it seep out of her, she would crumple. Sometimes, fighting isn't enough. ---orLexa is an outsider, all dark leather and sharp cheekbones, smoking cigarettes behind the gym...and Clarke Griffin can't keep her eyes off her.