The Roommate AU (prompt)
You're a little nervous.
You're moving to the city and you're nervous because you haven't seen Clarke in two years. She's been your best friend since kindergarten, you even dated... casually.... sort of... for a while in high school and you're nervous because you haven't seen her in two years and you don't know what to expect.
You called her about a month ago to tell her about the internship in Polis City and you could hear that bright smile of hers through the phone. She called you two weeks later to tell you her roommate moved out and if you were still looking for a place to stay, she had a room available.
You accepted.
Of course you did.
You can't imagine a better roommate than your best friend since kindergarten. Your rock. Your sun.
You stand outside the front door to Clarke's apartment, well, now Clarke's and your apartment, a duffel bag in one hand and a small brown paper bag in the other. You use the knuckles on the latter to knock on the door, biting your lip nervously.
You haven't seen Clarke in two years.
The door swings open and Clarke's smile lights up the hallway.
"Hi Cl-"
"Lexa!" She interrupts your greeting by tackling you in a hug, her arms in a tight grip around your neck, and you drop your duffel bag on the floor to better hug her back. You're taller than her and you know she's on her tiptoes to be able to reach you like this, so you wrap your free arm around her waist tightening just enough to support her weight.
She still uses that honey scented shampoo, it seems.
She still feels warm and familiar against your body.
(She still makes your heart race).
She elegantly slides out of your embrace and smiles at you. "I've missed you," she says.
"I can tell. Is that my high school jersey?" You throw in one of those smirky smiles you tend to give all the girls, without even considering that Clarke isn't one of them. She's your best friend. Your roommate. Your best friend who is wearing your high school soccer jersey with WOODS and the number 13 on the back, the jersey you gave her the day she moved to Polis City to have something to remember you by.
"Uh, yeah." She blushes and you're not sure why.
"I've missed you too, Clarke."
"Well, come on in, I'll show you your room."
"This is for you," you hold out the brown paper bag for her.
Her eyes widen in surprise, "You didn't... Is it?" She reaches for the bag and you give it to her, loving every bit of excitement that awakens on her face. She opens the paper bag and squeals. "Thank you thank you thank you," she chants as she sniffs the bag. It's chocolate muffins from the local coffee shop in your home town. They're Clarke's favorite, a trick up your sleeve for all the times Clarke needed a little cheering up.
//
Your room is small but it has a bed and a tiny desk and a closet and that's all you really need. Clarke orders pizza for your first night in and decides it's best eaten in front of the TV. You stay up late not watching TV at all while catching up on the past two years. She talks about college and the art exhibition coming up in two months and how excited she is about finally being able to show the world her art. You tell her about the internship, that it's supposed to give you the experience needed for when your dad will need you on the board in his company. She asks if it's what you want to do, take over the business and you tell her that yes, it is, the company's vision is to create a better world for our children and that's something of a privilege to be a part of.
Clarke tells you the hardest thing about moving here was leaving you behind and you tell her the hardest decision you ever made was letting her go and that the easiest decision you ever made was moving here.
//
On your first morning in your new apartment you wake up on the couch, Clarke snuggled up to you and you let yourself consider the possibility that maybe it's not too late.
//
On your second morning in your new apartment a blonde woman exits Clarke's bedroom, barely clothed. She introduces herself as Niylah and tells you she's heard much about you. You haven't heard a single thing about her but you don't tell her that. Instead you nod a greeting suddenly finding the bowl of cereal in front of you exceptionally interesting to stare at.
//
It's been two weeks since you moved in and Clarke insists you join her and Niylah, they're going out dancing and 'it would be good for you to take a night off from all the hard work you do'. You tell her no thank you, you just want a quiet night at home. What you really need is an evening on the couch without Clarke and Niylah in your hair.
You're not home when they return because the sight of them slipping into Clarke's room together makes your stomach turn. You're not home when they wake up either. You spend the night walking aimlessly around Polis City, getting only a few hours of sleep on the couch at the office. When you do return Niylah is gone and Clarke is mad at you for some reason.
She doesn't greet you like she usually does. She ignores you and it hurts even though you're not even trying to get her attention. It hurts because Clarke is hurting. It hurts because you can't fix it.
//
"Do you have a problem with Niylah being here?" She slams the door shut behind her and you flinch by the noise. She walks up to you, you sitting on the couch, her taking a stand not unlike a predator in front of you. Clarke was never afraid of confrontation. You? You hate it. Especially one that involves Clarke because she's the one thing that makes you weak which means you've lost this battle beforehand.
"No."
"It seems like it."
"I don't."
"Then what is it, Lexa? I miss my best friend and I don't know how to fix this if you don't tell me what I did."
You hear her shaky breath and you make the mistake of looking at her. She's crying, she's actually crying. You promised to never hurt her and that's what you're doing right now.
"Lexa," she pleads.
"Are you happy?" She looks taken aback by your question.
"What? Yeah... I'm happy..." She says, confusion lingering on her lips.
"Then I have no problem at all," you tell her returning to your book.
"Lexa." That's her angry voice.
"Clarke," you sigh. "Please... Don't..."
"Don't what?" She snatches the book out of your hands and you meet her eyes, wild like a tornado. That's furious Clarke. God, you love furious Clarke.
"Don't make this harder than it already is," you plead, for the first time allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of her. It's not on purpose, it's the effect she has on you.
"What does that mean, Lexa?"
"It means... Nothing, Clarke, okay? It means nothing. It's... You're happy and that's all I ever wanted for you. Please, just let it go." You avert your eyes, staring at your hands in your lap. You feel helpless under her stare.
"Lexa, talk to me." Her voice turns soft. That's the Clarke that always looks out for you.
"You left." You confess and you hate yourself for not being able to keep your mouth shut.
"Lex--"
"What do you want from me, Clarke?"
"I want my best friend back," she says and it feels like a slap in the face. "Tell me what to do..."
"Just be you." You tell her. "Be you and be happy." You get up from the couch rejecting the hand she places on your forearm. For every step you take towards your bedroom another piece of your heart breaks off.
"Why does it feel like goodbye again?" She says, barely a whisper.
"Do you want it to be?" You stop in your tracks keeping your back to her.
"No," she says. "I didn't want it then either."
You listen to her voice coming closer, her footsteps too. Her arms wrap around your waist and she pulls herself against your back. You stand numb and helpless letting her cling to you because no matter how much it breaks your heart you can't ever leave her. You can let her go but you can't leave her.
"Stay." she whispers.
A sob escapes your lips and you hold your breath hoping she didn't hear it. But when she spins your useless body around you know she did. She cups your cheeks and you can't do anything but let her hold you. She thumbs the tears away and you desperately try to keep your eyes shut because you're not sure you'll be able contain yourself if you could see the concern you know lies in her eyes. It's bad enough you can hear it in her voice.
"Lex, talk to me."
You shake your head weakly.
"Hey, look at me."
Your traitorous eyelids slide open and there they are, your favorite blue eyes. They fall to your lips, only for a split second, but it's enough for you to notice and you were never able to resist it, you aren't able to this time either.
So you lean in.
She doesn't pull back so you close the distance capturing her lips for the first time in more than two years. Her hands tighten their grip on your cheeks, one sliding to the nape of your neck. It feels familiar because it is. When your hands slide down her back you're also not surprised that she responds by arching into you. It's one of many things that Clarke does that drives you mad. It's muscle memory when she gently bites your bottom lip and your hands move to the back of her upper thighs to lift her up, her legs locking around your waist and her fingers tugging at your hair.
It feels like coming home.
You carry her towards your bedroom not letting go of her lips for one second afraid the distance between your lips, no matter how small, will leave way for any doubt to grow if you did. Not just in your mind but hers too. The door is closed and your hands are occupied holding her up so you pin her against it instead. She gasps by the impact, her breath hot on your lips, and she tugs harder on your hair as she leans her head backwards. The spot right below Clarke's earlobe was always a favorite of yours. Sliding your tongue up her neck, sucking at *that spot* always makes her moan uncontrollably. You can feel the vibrations of her throat against your lips and it's familiar too but somehow it feels like a first time.
"Oh God..." She gasps.
"thedoor" You mumble, coherency not easy to achieve in this moment.
"What?" Barely a word either.
"The door, Clarke, the door." You finally get the words through.
She fumbles for the doorknob behind her and you stumble against the door as it slides open, clumsily supporting Clarke's weight as you move towards your bed. You chase her lips all the way but you never catch them. As you hit the bed you lock eyes with her, your favorite blue eyes.
This moment is frozen in time. You on top of her, her legs still clinging to your waist, and you think this is it. This is when she'll stop you and say it's a bad idea, that you're her best friend, just her best friend.
But she doesn't.
She starts tugging at your shirt and you help her slide it over your head. She rushes to unclasp your bra as you sling the shirt off over your shoulder. You can't keep up with her, she's fumbling with the button on your jeans and before you know it she has you pinned against the sheets straddling your waist.
You watch her stare at the skin below your right breast. You never told her but you had her eternity symbol tattooed onto your body, the symbol she designed. She runs her index finger over it, mapping the eight-figured curve and she lingers where you know the curve fades away.
'Nothing lasts forever'.
In the back of your mind you hear her voice just as clear as that day. She left. You let her go. You agreed with her because you'd rather keep her a friend than lose her entirely.
"Lex..." she whispers. You don't know what the tone in her voice implies so you hold your breath. You don't want her to stop but more so you don't want her to regret this tomorrow, so you let her take the next step.
She falls into you, her hands still on your ribcage, her body heavy on top of you, her lips hard against yours. You run your hands up her thighs, squeezing her ass before continuing up under her shirt. She runs her nails down your sides, not hard enough to leave marks but you feel the desire still.
This Clarke is new to you. She's always been intense, but more the emotional kind than the physical kind.
She bites down on your lower lip, again not hard enough to leave a mark but you feel the pain still.
You pull at her shirt, she lifts herself off of you to slide it off, continueing to pull off your jeans, her own too. You watch her stand by the foot end of the bed as she reaches behind her to snap off her own bra. It falls to the floor and that's when you see it. She has the same tattoo only its placed below her collarbone instead. The discovery burns a hole in you heart and you're not sure why.
She slides off her panties and leaves kisses up your legs before sliding off yours too. She looks up at you, a storm raging in her eyes, a wild hurricane sucking you in, hurling you around and she washes over you like twenty feet waves crashing against the shore until your entire body trembles from the impact.
Clarke has always been untamable, an unstoppable force of nature, and that's why you love her.
She collapses on top of you, drenched in sweat and crying out euphoria. The tip of your fingers tethered to her pulse as you both catch your breath.
//
You don't remember falling asleep but when you do wake up she's gone. You bury your face in the pillow that now smells of Clarke's honey shampoo convincing yourself it's going to be okay come tomorrow.
//
You don't know for how long you've slept, but it's dark outside when you wake up. Clarke crawls back into your bed, cold and shaking. She snuggles up to you from behind burying her nose in your hair, her arm clinging to your waist.
Her breath is shallow and wobbly and this is familiar too, she only ever breathes this rhythm when she's been crying.
"I ended things with Niylah." She whispers.
You try to twist around to face her but she won't let you.
"If I promise to never leave again do you promise to stay?" She whispers, her voice heartbroken and raw.
"Always."
"I love you."
"I love you too."