The blonde bride (T)
She spins and she sways, careless to the rhythm Lexa tries, weakly at most, to impose. Too mesmerized, Lexa laughs with her, arms and legs following the wild spirit that is the omega between her arms.
The white of the dress blurs and mixes with Lexa’s glistening grey suit, flowing on the dance floor with the easiness of dry leaves in the wind. Polished shoes tap next to high heels and their accelerated hearts. They smile, pulse wild and simply happy.
The silver tiara shines in the middle of a golden mane, flowers erupting and diving between the wild curls. It’s a perfect fit with the white gold ring on her left hand, tonight for the first time.
All eyes focus on the couple, but for a brief moment they exist only for each other. In the bright hall of the hotel, they are alone; and in their own bubble, they exchange whispered truths.
“Thank you,” the bride sighs in Lexa’s ears, nudging it playfully as it turns pink.
“Anything for you.” The words are heavy in Lexa’s mouth, weighted by the meaning of that day.
“I love you.” The music slows with the same softness the words caress Lexa’s cheek. She leans down to hug the body she knows so well, placing a kiss on the long forehead.
“Love you too,” Lexa responds, and knows, her inner alpha just knows she’s not her alpha anymore.
Deep forest eyes look up at Lexa, unshed tears threatening to spill while plump lips tremble with emotion. “Mom …”
“No more tears,” Lexa teases, but her own green eyes fill at the sight of her youngest daughter. “You still need to take more pictures before the end of the night.”
They hug under the sound of clapping, and the hand that falls on Lexa’s shoulder has the weight of the world.
Hannah moves the hand from her shoulder and Lexa nods, placing Lumi’s own hand on the younger alpha’s.
“Thank you,” Hanna says, ever polite, always the quiet girl Lexa learned to love. Also the teenager she learned to watch until she blossomed into the woman her daughter fell in love with.
Lexa doesn’t trust her voice and responds with a clipped nod. Hannah has Anya’s eyes, deep, knowing and golden, and Lexa has to look away.
Hannah takes Lumi’s hand and the way the omega beams at her new wife tells Lexa she did a good job. Clad in a much simpler dress, Hannah dances with her bride, spinning her with a grace Lexa could never muster.
Lexa is about to bolt to the bathroom to hide new tears when a hand closes around her waist, and sensing her mate’s scent, she relaxes into the embrace. Her life is full of blonde omegas stealing her heart away.
The music slows and Clarke’s head snugs on her neck, breathing deeply. She leaves a barely there kiss on the tanned skin showing above the tie, soothing, and Lexa’s tears are suddenly from happiness.
“How are you holding up?” The familiar voice calms Lexa’s heartbeat, green eyes closing as she inhales the perfume on Clarke’s hair.
“Been better.”
“She’s happy, Lex,” Clarke says and pulls away for a graceful spin; Lexa catches her and envies her joy.
“I’m happy, I’m just … sad?” she confesses once Clarke is safely tucked under her chin. “I think I understand your mother now.”
Clarke laughs heartily at that, throwing her head back and all. “She’s almost eighty and she still has the guts to tease you.”
“I don’t tease Hannah. It’s different, it’s …”
“Hey.” Clarke stops the dancing, both hands cradling Lexa’s face. Clarke’s dimples have extended to lines down her lips, but her eyes shine like the day they mated. “I understand it, alpha. She’s my little omega too.”
Tears swim in the pools of blue and Lexa tugs her close once more. “We are quite a team, crying more than the bride.”
But Clarke isn’t paying attention, eyes glued on the newly wed couple at the center of the dance floor. Hannah guides Lumi with a shy touch, but dexterously. Lumi’s dress flows and sways, but she always lands on Hannah’s protective arms.
Their youngest, their omega, is now married.
Clarke takes another deep breath, resting her chin on her palm, prone on the thousand something threads sheet.
“Lexa,” she tries again, but the pacing alpha barely looks at her, a layer of sweat blossoming on her linen pajamas.
“... and how are they planning to pay for that apartment if Jake doesn’t get his scholarship? They must have another way …”
She goes on and Clarke rolls her eyes, tired. “Lexa!” She calls firmly, and her mate finally shuts up. “You are not going to spend the night in a luxurious hotel we are still going to pay for the next ten months complaining about Lumi getting married. Come to bed.” There was no space for arguing, and, sulking, Lexa drags herself under the sheets with Clarke.
Clarke places a delicate kiss on Lexa’s frown. “They are going to be fine.”
Curious eyes catch Clarke’s in the dim light of their suite. “Did you have the, you know, talk with her?”
One eyebrow raises in playfully curiosity. “Are you asking if I gave our twenty-six year old daughter the sex talk?”
Lexa looks away but it doesn’t hide her blush. Clarke can’t resist another kiss to those high cheeks.
“Yes, I did. Like ten years ago.” She giggles when Lexa huffs. But she knows her mate. Clarke sneaks an arm around her shoulder, kissing her neck, until Lexa finally relaxes. “We did have a conversation about knotting, though,” Clarke continues.
“I regret asking,” Lexa mumbles, much to Clarke’s amusement.
“Don’t you remember what we did on our honeymoon?”
“Stop talking, please.”
Clarke kisses the messy curls she loves, white and brown fighting for majority in the past years. “They’re going to be fine.”
“Let’s stop talking about the fact our daughter is being knotted a few floors up, please.”
“I like the idea of not talking.” Clarke’s voice drops an octave and Lexa shudders at the tone.
“I can’t in these circumstances,” Lexa insists in a losing battle, rolling on the bed so Clarke faces her back.
“Oh, of course you can.” Lust drips from every word and a sneaky hand finds its way into Lexa’s waistband. “See? She agrees with me,” Clarke whispers from behind Lexa’s neck, one sweet kiss landing on the alpha’s skin.
With a feigned resigned sigh, Lexa turns to find waiting lips.