Chapter XVII
Lexa has been awake for a while now. She doesn't know for how long exactly, but it feels like forever. It feels like it could've been half a day but it doesn't make sense because it's still dark outside, nearly pitch black from what she can see through the blinds.
She lies completely still in the darkness afraid that if she moves the tiniest bit she'll break. The silence around her screams at her, the muscles in her body are exhausted from the tension, her heart beats in what feels like an uncontrollable rhythm.
Her body is uncomfortably numb.
Her eyes hurt from having stared at the shadows in the ceiling for too long and when it gets too unbearable she instead turns her head to watch the sleeping form of Clarke next to her. It eventually leaves an echo of pain in her heart, rippling through her veins, which is infinitely worse, so she goes back to staring at the ceiling again.
Today is December 2nd.
Costia's anniversary falls on a Sunday this year.
Nine years.
Those are the only thoughts going through her mind and no matter how hard she tries, she can't silence them.
She blinks a few times finally accepting that she can't fall back asleep. She thinks that maybe breaking isn't the worst that could happen right now, so she dares herself to move, flexing her toes and unclenching her fists. She looks one last time at Clarke, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead before tiptoeing out of their bedroom, slowly and soundlessly closing the bedroom door behind her.
She feels disoriented walking around the house in the dark like this, sleep-deprived and utterly shattered.
It's 5am. Or maybe 6am. She stopped glaring at the alarm clock on the bedside table hours ago.
She goes to take a seat at her piano and for a while she just stares at the keys, a row of white and black slim rectangulars. She knows there's a system, she knows it's a long row of eighty-eight keys, but right now they seem randomly spread all over the place and they seem to go on forever in all directions.
She feels weird.
Oddly misplaced, firmly anchored. In a mental state that feels foreign to her... or just forgotten, maybe. In a physical space that feels like home, comfortably so.
There's a corner of her heart that has been hungry since she woke up.
Like, it suddenly awoke from a deep, deep sleep and craved to be fed, demanded to be fed.
Like, it only just realized it was supposed to mourn Costia instead of enjoying life with Clarke.
Lexa hasn't been to Costia's grave since she said goodbye and on this particular day she feels a little guilty about it.
Wherever Costia is, does she feel abandoned? Lexa doesn't know what's more sad, that she doesn't know the answer or that the answer might be a yes.
Lexa closes her eyes and inhales some much needed air. It stings in her lungs and it stings her eyes. When she opens them again, her vision is blurry from the tears stubbornly pushing their way into her eyes. She swallows the lump in her throat and places her right hand on the keys. She doesn't need her sight to tell which notes are under her fingertips, her muscles know.
Softly, she plays the first phrase for 'The Dock Of The Bay'. She lets the last note ring until the tears start spilling and she uses her free hand to wipe them away.
She doesn't know that Anya is watching her from the hallway, she doesn't know that Anya has just stopped Clarke from entering the living room. "Let her do this," Anya whispers and Clarke accepts despite the ache in her heart and the lack of air in her lungs. Because Clarke knows Anya is right.
From the living room, Lexa cautiously plays another phrase. The third phrase follows right after and then she slowly builds it up adding soft harmonies to accompany the melody.
It's beautiful.
It's painful.
It's melancholic.
It's haunting.
It rips at both Clarke and Anya's heart but most of all it rips Lexa apart.
Images of Costia's last moments flash before Lexa's eyes and for only a moment it feels like she's back in that hospital room with her, holding her hand, singing to her.
She keeps playing, forcing all of it out. All of it. All that is weighing her down.
It's cleansing.
Her voice is rusty. She hasn't sung in nine years and she can feel the uncomfortable tugging at her vocal chords, she can hear the raw notes not quite in tune. She chokes on words and most of them she just hums.
When the song is over, she's empty. She sits by the piano staring at her fingers as she lifs them off the piano and she turns them over to look at her palms.
She's calm. No anxiety. No shaking. Just... Calm.
Her heart aches, but she's calm.
No more pain over Costia. When she said goodbye to Costia she didn't say goodbye to the pain. But she does now.
No more pain over Costia.
She inhales slowly and controlled, drawing air all the way into the smallest corners of her lungs before she gets up and walks back towards her bedroom, back towards Clarke.
Anya and Clarke are paralyzed in the hallway slowly waiting for Lexa to notice them, holding their breath as they wait for her to lift her gaze to see them.
It happens in slow-motion.
When Lexa does lift her eyes, Clarke watches as they widen in surprise. Lexa stops walking and stares at her, both of them.
There's a split second where Clarke doesn't know what Lexa is going to do. Will she reach out for her or will she retreat into herself. That split second feels like hours.
There's another split second where Lexa sees the pain in her sister's and in Clarke's eyes. She didn't mean for anyone to witness that scene. She's not broken. She's just... She woke up with a feeling she couldn't describe and she went to the piano to help her figure things out.
She's okay.
It hurts but she's okay.
She spends the next split second walking towards Clarke, cupping her face and pulling her into to a kiss. One of those kisses that tells Clarke that Lexa is still right here.
She then wipes the tears off Clarke's cheeks, giving her one of those half smiles she knows Clarke loves. When Clarke smiles back, Lexa goes to pull Anya into a hug.
Anya may be the most broken of all three of them. Beautifully broken. It's the kind of broken that happens when you realize your sister, the one person in the world you feel most responsible for, fully responsible for, is finally and fully healed. It's been a long time coming, a time she never dared hope for.
Nine years.
Nine years of staying strong for Lexa.
Nine years worth of tears soaking Lexa's shirt.
"I love you, sis." Anya chokes out because that's all she has to say.
"Love you too," Lexa whispers, comforting her older sister for maybe the first time in her life.
"Does that mean you're ready to talk again?" Anya prays through her tears.
"No."
Anya pulls out from the hug and finds Lexa smiling softly at her.
"I like you better when you don't talk back, anyways," Anya chuckles, playfully narrowing her eyes in an accusing glare, wiping her cheeks one last time.
Raven emerges from her bedroom with sleepy eyes but a determined mind. "You all look like you could use some bacon and eggs," she says, leaving a kiss on Anya's cheek as she walks by the three of them on her way to the kitchen.
"Twenty minutes," she smiles as she looks over her shoulder, three women exhaustedly smiling back at her.
*
"Are you going to visit Costia today?" Anya asks, then sipping her coffee.
"No." Lexa says thoughtfully. She said her goodbyes already.
Clarke steals a strip of bacon from her plate, "The park?"
"No." Lexa shakes her head. She plans on staying right where she is, with her family, for the rest of the day.
"So... one-cyllable answers is your new thing?" Raven teases her.
"Yes." Lexa smirks.
"Well, shoot... I was kinda hoping you could tell me all of Anya's embarrassing childhood stories." Raven feints disappointment.
Lexa grins back at her.
It looks like a promise.
*
The four of them spends the rest of the day watching movies, hanging out. The dark has settled around their house long before Clarke decides she needs to go to bed. She gets up from the couch about to pull Lexa with her but freezes halfway through.
"Lex!" She squeals. "Look!"
Lexa follows her gaze towards the piano, no, towards the wall of windows that surround the piano.
And then she sees them too.
Snowflakes.
They're the big and sort of heavy kind that looks like tiny feathers and still falls towards the ground elegantly slow.
It's the first snow this winter.
Clarke is grinning like a five year old on Christmas morning when she pulls Lexa up from the couch and towards the windows until they're both standing close enough to fog up the glass with their breath.
There's something magical about snowflakes. Ever since she was a kid, Clarke has loved snowflakes. They're beautiful in their strong, yet fragile structure and they remind her of Christmas holidays with her family. To Lexa, snowflakes will always be connected to Clarke and their love.
Clarke snakes an arm around Lexa's waist and Lexa snakes one around Clarke's shoulders and their bodies move in one fluent motion until Clarke is fully encircled by Lexa's arms, her arms around Lexa's waist and her head supported by Lexa's chest.
Clarke sighs peacefully.
She can hear Lexa's heart beating and so she moves her head slightly, just enough to press a soft kiss against the spot she knows holds Lexa's snowflake tattoo, before melting back into the comfort that is Lexa.
Lexa smiles.
She feels Clarke's lips against her tattoo and her heart melts under it. She tugs Clarke a little closer as she looks towards the sky. For a moment in time she wishes it'll never stop snowing.
"Wanna go to bed?" Clarke asks softly.
Lexa nods, yawning against golden hair.
On their way to their bedroom they stop for a moment to appreciate their framed snowflake drawings in the hallway, they share a soft kiss before Lexa tugs Clarke along with her.
They brush their teeth side by side. They don't do it often, but on days like today where the need to be close speaks louder than anything else, it's something they do with a smile on their lips. Clarke pushes Lexa playfully hip against hip and Lexa pinches Clarke just below her ribs in response causing Clarke's soft laughter to fill the bathroom with Lexa's favorite sound.
When Lexa undresses them both before going to bed it's not about sexual needs, it's entirely about needing Clarke as close as possible, it's about feeling Clarke in the purest form against her naked skin, it's about being one with Clarke.
They stand in the darkness of their room, in each other's arms, breathing the same air together. Lexa runs fingertips down Clarke's back and Clarke kisses Lexa's tattoo not for the last time that night.
They stand like that until Clarke whines about being cold. Lexa chuckles as she pulls Clarke to bed and pulls the sheets over the both of them.
"Thank you," Lexa whispers, because it's been a long day, because Lexa has had a hard day and because Clarke made it better.
"You're welcome, Lex," Clarke breathes, placing a soft kiss on Lexa's jaw.
They fall asleep an entangled mess of limbs, their hearts beating the same rhythm, Lexa feeling reborn, not for the first time since she met Clarke.