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"Nghh Clar..." Lexa mumbled in her stupor.
Anya looked up from her phone. Her eyes drifted to the sleeping figure on the hospital bed. She was certain the sound she heard wasn't the occasional beep from the heart monitor.
"Cerk."
The balayage-haired girl shot up from her seat and moved towards the bed.
Lexa opened her eyes tentatively.
"Anya," Lexa stated, her voice hoarse from hibernation.
"Hey ugly." The brunette chuckled. "How you feeling?" asked Anya.
"Just perfect," Lexa joked. She groaned as she tried to sit up. "What happened?"
"You got hit by a bus," Anya stated as a matter-of-fact. "You've been out for 2 days."
Lexa winced as she felt a pang of pain in her side. "Definitely feels like it."
"I'll get the doctor."
The brunette thanked her cousin.
"Should I get Clarke as well? She hasn't left at all since your accident."
At that, Lexa furrowed her brows inquisitively. "Clarke...?"
Anya sighed, "I better get the doctor."
...
"Lexa is suffering from some memory loss as a direct result of the traumatic head injuries from the accident. It's all completely normal when recovering from a concussion. With some physical therapy, everything should go back to normal."
The doctor then looked at Lexa, and said, "You're very lucky to be alive" before leaving the room.
The brunette in question flashed him a polite smile that Anya recognized from her childhood. It's been a while since she's seen her smile that genuinely.
"Is she hot?" Lexa asked out of the blue
"Yes, objectively."
"Did we do it?"
Anya pinched the bridge of her nose dramatically, squeezed her eyes shut and said, "I would like to act like I have no idea, but yes, you did."
"So why isn't she in here already? Why's she still in the hall like an exiled criminal?" Lexa inquired.
"Because, Lexa," Anya sighed. "She broke your heart. Twice. Messed you up real bad. You were like Ron Weasley, all "I'll never be cheerful again."
Lexa chortled.
"Did I love her?"
Anya sighed not for the last time that night, "More than anything."
"Okay then."
"Okay what?" The dirty blonde frowned.
"Shouldn't that be the only thing that matters?" Lexa asked sincerely.
"Well yes, but actually no. What about Clarke?"
"What about her?"
"You know, love is a two-way street, and stuff."
"Well, she's still outside, isn't she?" Lexa pointed out as a matter-of-fact. "And as you said, she's been here the full 48 hours since the crash... That must mean something."
...
Clarke was nodding off on one of the uncomfortable chairs placed in the hallway of the hospital. It was as if the chair itself (much like her friends) was urging her to go home. But she couldn't. She needed to see that Lexa was okay. Showers and sleep were the last things on her mind despite her friends' insistence.
"Lexa's awake." She heard a voice speak. However, the words didn't quite register in her mind until her eyes begrudgingly fluttered open that she noticed the figure hovering over her curled up form.
"She wants to see you."
Blue eyes widened as if a bolt of lightning shot through her quivering frame.
Clarke moved to enter the room but Anya stood in her way, unbudging.
"Lexa has been walked out on repeatedly since birth," Anya started, "If it isn't obvious enough already, that girl has mad abandonment issues. She needs someone who stays. Will you be that someone? If not, just do what you do best, and leave."
The dirty blonde took a deep breath, "If you really love her, stick around, even when it's hard, especially when it's hard. Love isn't a flutter in your stomach, a blooming warmth in your chest. It isn't some stimulated synapses that signal euphoria. It's being there when someone needs you. Don't fuck it up this time."
With that, Anya walked down the hall before the blonde could respond.
...
Clarke entered the hospital ward apprehensively.
"You Clarke?" Lexa asked with a stoic demeanor. "Lexa hit head. Forgot."
Clarke looked towards the doorway as if pleading for help before she heard laughter coming from the direction of the bed.
"You should see your face," Lexa said between fits of laughter.
"You must be Clarke." The brunette gestured to her head.
"Amnesia," the brunette explained.
A look of understanding overtook the puzzled expression previously adorning the blonde's features.
"Right, retrograde amnesia. That's completely normal amongst patients that suffered head traumas."
"Show off much?" Lexa joked.
Clarke chuckled. There was that lightheartedness she once fell for.
A comfortable lull fell over the room before Lexa broke the silence.
"Anya filled me in on some stuff."
"She did, huh?" Clarke wringed her hands nervously, waiting for the hammer to fall.
"Clarke... I'm don't know exactly what went down between us, but I'm sure anybody would be lucky to have you." The blonde frowned, unsure where the conversation was headed.
"I hope I'm not all out just yet. Believe me, I can romance the crap out of you. I got moves up my sleeves you ain't even seen yet..." Clarke scoffed playfully and rolled her eyes.
"But I don't want to. I want to love you. Anybody can bring you flowers. But one thing that I can promise you is that I'll stay, no matter what. That's what love is: fighting through the hardest parts together... But I'm gonna need you to do the same. If you can't, you can leave and we'll figure out a way to be cordial when we're in the same room, when we have to be. If not..." Lexa extended her hand, "Clean slate?"
Clarke nodded and took the offered hand and Lexa smiled.
"Lexa Woods. Nice to meet ya" the brunette said with a cool expression.
"Clarke Griffin. Likewise."