There's a knock on the door.

Lexa sighs, getting up off her nest of self-pity on the couch thinking, oh god, this is not happening. She takes a deep breath, steels her spine, lifts her chin before opening the door. Lexa is a confident young woman, but it all crumbles the second the door swings open and Clarke's smile grows into a smirk.

“Shut up,” Lexa says.

“I didn't say anything,” Clarke feigns innocence, only able to hold back her grin for barely a second.

Lexa sigh, looking at the ceiling, then back at Clarke. “Go ahead. Get it out of your system.”

“No, I swear, I don't–Well, I was just thinking what a shame I didn't bring my wooden leg.”

No. Oh no no no.

Sassy Clarke is gorgeous, keeps Lexa on her toes, but right now Lexa is tired and sore, and has negative dignity to her name, so Sassy Clarke can shove it.

Lexa closes the door again, but her hand lingers on the doorknob while she listens to Clarke's bright laughter exploding in the stairwell. It brings a fond smile to her lips, one that morphs into the best scowling glare she can muster as she pulls the door open again.

“I'm sorry, Lex, I’m sorry” Clarke hurries to say, doing a terrible job holding back her amusement. “It’s just… You should have told me. I could have brought a bottle of rum.”

“God,” Lexa mutters, as she gives the door a push that’s hard enough to tell Clarke she’s not funny at all, but not harder than Clarke should be able to stop it from shutting.

Lexa trudges back to the couch and slides under the blanket again, back turned to her chuckling girlfriend who is approaching her with an energy Lexa is too tired to deal with right now.

“Hey,” Clarke murmurs, sliding under the blanket behind Lexa. “I love you.”

When a warm arm slides around Lexa’s waist, and soft lips press against her shoulder, Lexa melts and sighs. “I love you too,” she mutters, still grumpy, but maybe not so much as before.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not.”

“You kind of are.”

Lexa sighs, pushing the side of her face that doesn’t hurt into the pillow. “No.”

“Want me to leave?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Lexa can feel Clarke’s smile press against her shoulder blade as Clarke shifts, getting more comfortable behind her. And yes, Lexa is a little bit mad, but it’s not Clarke’s fault that Lexa is in a foul mood. And yes, it is undeniably magical when Clarke is here wrapped around her with warmth and love despite Lexa having told Clarke she didn't feel well and needed to be alone.

“Lex?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened?”

There’s silence while Lexa contemplates how long she’s able to keep the story to herself, because saying it out loud makes it real, and it's a little bit embarrassing. But when Clarke kisses her shoulder again, she sighs, giving in. “Scrabble.”

“Scrabble?”

“Scrabble.”

“How does one end up with an eye patch playing scrabble?”

“Clarke,” Lexa whines into the pillow, because Clarke is clearly having too much fun.

“Lex,” Clarke grins. “You’ll tell me sooner or later anyways.”

“Fine,” Lexa huffs, shifting onto her back, loving how Clarke’s lips instantly find her jaw, and how a thumb begins to brush circles on her stomach. “We played scrabble, all the cousins, and you know how Roan and I...”

“You provoke each other.”

“Well… Yes. And he was winning, he was practically hanging from the chandelier, all cocky and… you know how he gets, right?”

“Right.”

“Right, so… I wrote quiz on a triple word score, and you should see his face when he realized he was losing,” Lexa says, grinning as she remembers the very second he froze in his seat, his eyes widened with realization. “And you know me.”

“What did you do?” Clarke says, fully entitled to the accusative tone in her voice, having witnessed more ridiculous fights between the two cousins than one lifetime should hold.

“I may have gloated a bit.”

“Did you do the winner dance?”

Lexa scoffs. “Did you not hear me say he was practically hanging from the chandelier? Of course I did the winner dance.”

“Lex,” Clarke sighs.

“It was magnificent,” Lexa says with a proud grin.

“I’m sure it was. So…”

“So?” Lexa asks innocently, knowing full well what Clarke wants to hear, but hoping she’d forgotten all about it.

“So…” Clarke draws out the o impatiently. “Eye patch, Lex. What happened?”

“Roan threw the Q tile at me and hit me square in the eye.”

“He… What?” Clarke props herself up on an elbow and looks at Lexa who’s biting her lip like a kid who knows she did something wrong.

“Yeah, I spent a good three hours in a waiting room at the ER last night only to get this stupid….” Lexa sighs, shaking her head. She looks at Clarke, and a grin forms on her lips. “You should see the other guy.”

“Lex,” Clarke sighs. “What did you do.”

Lexa shrugs. “I threw the tile holder after him... “

“Lex,” Clarke sighs again, “and?”

“And… I may have broken his nose.”

Clarke groans, dropping her head back onto the pillow next to Lexa. Silence fills the void, and Lexa snuggles closer to Clarke, careful not to press her eye against Clarke’s shoulder. She yawns and pulls Clarke closer by the waist.

“How bad is it?” Clarke murmurs, her fingers playing with the tips of Lexa’s hair.

“Not so bad. No damage. Just tired.” Lexa yawns again. “And I’ll be extremely light sensitive for a couple of days.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Mhno, just cuddles,” Lexa mumbles sleepily.

“Cuddles?”

“Mhyeah, and kisses.”

“I think I can do that,” Clarke says, smiling warmly at Lexa who’s already half asleep. She presses a kiss against Lexa’s hair and Lexa responds by pressing lazy lips against thin air.

“An’m’laundry,” Lexa mumbles.

Clarke chuckles. “No.”

“Okay,” Lexa breathes, barely a sound, and it’s no more than ten seconds before her body melts into sleep in Clarke’s arms.