The Decision

Clarke rolled over in her bed. She was frustrated and felt like at any given moment she was probably going to burst. Ever since Raven had mentioned how insatiable she and Lexa had been sexually, that was all that she could find herself thinking about, really – it was just killing her. Her body was hot, and begging for a release, but she couldn’t – she wouldn’t, not with her head so full of Lexa, not thinking about Lexa.

It wasn’t that she never had – she had, that much was true, but this was different. Lexa was back now, she had just seen her. Now, it was just so wrong. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she also found herself feeling grateful that Wells worked a different shift than her, because even if he was there, with all the thoughts jumbled up in her head, sleeping with him would just be wrong too.

“Ugh,” Clarke grunted in frustration as she rolled over and tossed the blanket off of her body, reveling in the feel of the cool air against her burning skin as she tried and failed to think of anything besides Lexa.

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They had been dating for a several weeks, but had been taking things slow, just becoming familiar with each other on this now more intimate level. Both of them knew that what they were feeling was way more than a simple physical attraction, but they also knew that taking that next step would change things, it would change them and though slow seemed like a good idea, it was proving to be more and more difficult as time passed.

They were at Lexa’s apartment, curled up on the couch and lightly kissing when Lexa moved her lips to Clarke’s pulse point and suddenly everything changed. It wasn’t the first time that she had kissed her there, but now, with all of the longing that was burning inside of her, Clarke was sure she wanted more. Not only that she wanted it, she needed it – she needed Lexa. Her hips pushed forward in a seductive roll and as her body found the friction that it was craving, a whine escaped her throat, a whine that probably would have embarrassed her, had she been with anyone other than Lexa.

Lexa shuddered against her as her breath hitched. Clarke scratched her nails lightly up Lexa’s sides, dragging her top up and exposing her toned stomach. Quickly she pushed at her own top and then pulled Lexa against her and when their skin met, it was fire and electricity all mixed together. Clarke instantly felt a familiar, warm sensation develop between her legs and she rolled her hips against Lexa again, practically begging for more of that same friction.

“Clarke…” Lexa breathed though her kiss as her grip became firmer.
“I want you,” Clarke told her as she fisted the back of her shirt. “Baby...please...I...I want you so fucking bad.”
Lexa whined slightly at her words and rolled her hips forward, clearly willing to give.
“More,” Clarke croaked, her voice husky and full of lust. “Please...I need you.”
Lexa pulled back and looked at her. The look was honest and full of affection, but also full of want and in that moment, Clarke knew that she was craving her just as badly.
Lexa waited, steadying her breath.
“Bed,” Clarke finally said, her voice coming way more dominant than she’d ever heard it. She paused for a second, slightly worried about how Lexa might react to the use of such a tone.
Lexa however, looked at her with increasingly darkened eyes and responded quickly, capturing her mouth in a fiery kiss and lifting her off of the couch, carrying her toward the bedroom.
Clarke couldn’t help but moan as she wrapped her legs tighter around Lexa, grinding her center against her stomach and kissing her even more feverishly.

Once in the bedroom Lexa slowly lowered her on to the bed and their bodies began to move rhythmically. Clarke felt Lexa’s hand slip under her top and up her side, finally reaching the lace of her bra, her thumb swiped over it and Clarke’s body arch into the touch before she leaned forward, forcing them upright. She broke the kiss and quickly slipped out of her top before pulling at the hem of Lexa’s shirt. Lexa hastily pulled her shirt over her head and discarded it somewhere on the floor.

“Those too,” Clarke told her, with that same dominant tone, as she motioned to Lexa’s pants.

Slowly, though without hesitation, Lexa undid her pants and as she did, Clarke undid her own and slipped them off. Now Lexa’s eyes were on her and for the first time ever, she didn’t feel nervous or embarrassed by this exposure. No, instead she felt desired and more importantly, safe. Reaching her hand back, she undid her bra and let her fall from her arms. She heard Lexa’s breath hitch in her throat and smirked. It made her feel beautiful. She waited patiently as Lexa undid her own bra and when that fell to the floor it was her turn to have her breath catch and Lexa’s turn to smirk before she leaned forward to capture her lips again.

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“Fuck this,” Clarke said as she shot up of the bed and stormed into the bathroom where she quickly stripped off her clothes and threw herself into an icy shower, determined to quash her raging libido. It helped, not a lot, but some and when she was done, finally sleep took her.

The following morning Clarke rolled over and her eyes fell on Wells, sleeping peacefully next to her. She yawned lightly and slipped out of bed, trying not to wake him. She made her way into the kitchen where she made a quick cup of coffee before pulling out her phone and firing off a text to Octavia.

Clarke: So, are you still mad at me?
O: It’s not that I’m mad at you. I just don’t understand why you’re doing this.
Clarke: It’s important to me.
O: I thought Wells was too.
Clarke: That’s not fair.
O: Maybe not, but it’s true. You’re getting married, Clarke.
Clarke: I know.
O: Then act like you know.

Clarke set her phone out and released a sigh. She didn’t know how to explain it. She couldn’t find the words.

The time that she had spent being with Lexa had been unlike anything that she had ever experienced and somewhere, deep in her heart, she secretly feared that she would never feel that again. To her, it had been real – realer than anything else. Being with Lexa had made her feel complete in a way that no other thing, human or not, ever had, but this wasn’t about that. This was something different.

Clarke: I don’t know how to explain it. We were so close, Octavia. I just – I really miss that.
O: If you were so close then where the hell has she been for the last six years? She walked out that night and never so much as spit in your direction again. Not one phone call, an email – nothing!
Clarke: I know.
Clarke: But, if we can look passed it, why can’t you? Why are you so hell bent against us being friends?
O: Seriously?
O: Not only did the girl break your heart, but she ripped it out of your chest and then stomped on it while you watched.

Clarke stared down at her phone. It was true. If she had to describe it, that would be a pretty accurate way to do it.

O: Look, Lexa talked a great game – she had us all fooled, but face it, Clarke, when it came down to it – you just couldn’t compete with billions of dollars.
Clarke: That was way harsh, O.
O: I’m sorry, but it’s true. Lexa hurt us all, but she hurt you the worst. What was it that she said to you that night? Do you remember?
O: “You always knew that this would happen eventually.”
O: Damn it - she used you!
Clarke: Octavia!

Clarke slammed her phone down. She wouldn’t believe that. She couldn’t. Octavia was wrong.

She and Lexa had been connected from the moment that they’d met and that connection, they both openly admitted later, was stronger than anything that either of them had ever experienced before. It was in every way and on every level, and it brought them both a sense of peace, calmness and happiness. It was the most significant and satisfying thing that Clarke had ever experienced. They understood each other, balanced each other – protected each other and took care of one another. It was real. It was.

Clarke: I’m so done with this conversation.
O: Clarke.
O: Come on, Clarke.
O: Ugh fine. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow.

Clarke stared at the message. Fuck. She’d forgotten that she and Wells were supposed to be having dinner with Octavia and Lincoln tomorrow night. Great. Just great.

It wasn’t that what Octavia was saying didn’t make any sense – it totally did. Lexa had leapt at the opportunity to run a new division at one of her parents companies and in the process, had left all of them in the dust and never looked back. It wasn’t just her that had been hurt, she knew that, though she did tend to forget.

No one was really surprised that Lexa had gone to work for her parents, she always said that she would, regardless of her own ambitions. In fact, when it came to business, Lexa always put her own wants on the back burner.

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Clarke was pacing the living room furiously. Lexa had been offered the opportunity to perform with the city’s symphony for a month over the summer and had turned it down because the dates conflicted with her work schedule.

Clarke: I seriously can’t even
Lexa: It’s not that big of a deal.
Clarke: Seriously?
Clarke: It was a great opportunity and you passed on it!
Lexa: Of course I did. I have my internship with my father.
Clarke: Exactly! With your father. Just ask him to push it off for a few weeks.
Lexa: Yeah, sure – I’ll get right on that.
Clarke: Lexa :(
Lexa: Drop it, and I’ll bring Chinese food when I come over?
Clarke: Ugh!! That’s cheating!
Lexa: Maybe.
Lexa: Did it work?
Clarke: No.
Lexa: Are you sure?
Clarke: Don’t forget the duck sauce.

A few hours later, they were sprawled out on the couch when Clarke started again. “Can you just help me understand?
“I fed you.” Lexa said without looking at her. “You said that you’d drop it.”
“Technically, I didn't," Clarke pointed out and then whined a little.
Lexa sighed and looked at her. “I enjoy music, but let’s be real,” she shook her head. “I’m never going to pursue it.”
“You don’t enjoy it, Lexa.” Clarke retorted quickly. “You love it.”
“Perhaps, but it doesn’t matter. My future is already written.” Lexa explained with a shrug. “You know this.”
“Why though?” Clarke asked briskly. “I don’t understand why you can’t just tell them that you don’t want that future.”
Lexa repositioned herself on the couch and took a deep breath. “Clarke, we’ve had this conversation,” she said firmly. “Eventually, I’ll be working full time for my parents, regardless of anything else that might come along. Professionally speaking, for lack of a better term at the moment – that’s my endgame.”
Clarke let out an exasperated breath. “Yeah,” she huffed as she got to her feet, “and how about personally speaking?”

As she went to walk away, Lexa reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, quickly standing up. “I thought that was obvious,” she said, looking her right in the eyes. “It’s you.”
“Me?” Clarke’s eyebrows went up. “I’m your endgame.”
“Clarke,” Lexa took a steadying breath. “I don’t care about where I end up professionally – I always knew that it was set and it’s never really bothered me. As far as music, I don’t even care if I never play again. What I do care about, is you. You, are all that I really want – all that I’ll ever want. As long as I have you,” she shook her head, “the rest doesn’t matter.”
Clarke’s heart warmed and swelled at her words. “You’re all that I want too,” she smiled, feeling her cheeks flush.
Lexa pulled her closer and dropped a light kiss on her lips. “Endgame,” she whispered.

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The following night Clarke sat having dinner with Wells, Lincoln and Octavia at a local, but fancier restaurant. They were discussing wedding venues when Clarke noticed Lexa and Anya several tables away. Come on, really?

“Uh oh.” Wells suddenly said. “Should I prepare for bloodshed?” He had noticed Lexa too.
“No.” Clarke smiled and shook her head. “No, we’re fine.”
“Excellent.” Wells smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Just then Lexa looked up and noticed them, she raised her glass, giving them all an acknowledging nod and they all returned the gesture before returning to their meals and conversation.

Later, they ended up at the front doors at the same time and Clarke groaned internally. Seriously, what were the chances?

“Hello Lexa,” Clarke greeted her politely.
“Clarke.” Lexa nodded and turned. “You must be Wells,” she extended her hand. “Lexa Woods.”
Clarke couldn’t help but hold her breath.
Wells shook her hand. “Pleasure,” he told her.
Lexa shifted her gaze and nodded to Octavia, then turned all of her attention to Lincoln. “How are you?” She questioned him, swallowing hard.
His smile was slight, but warm. “I am very well,” he told her as he tightened his grip on Octavia.
“Actually, I believe that there are some congratulations in order,” Lexa said as she gripped one of Lincoln’s shoulders and one of Octavia’s as well, “however late it might be. I was thrilled for the two of you when I heard that you’d gotten married.”
“Bellamy about burst,” Lincoln grinned at her.
“Oh, come on,” Lexa grinned waved her hand. “There was never any doubt that you two would end up together. Everyone always knew it. You two were totally endgame.”

Instantly the air seemed to be sucked from Clarke’s lungs and she couldn’t get it back. Her heart began to pound and she thought the pressure in her ears might crush her. Turning quickly, she pushed through the double glass doors and tried to get away.

Well’s followed behind her and grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong with you?” He questioned her quickly.
Clarke didn’t answer, in fact she couldn’t. She was gasping for breath, but not receiving any and her heart was now racing painfully in her chest.
“Let go of her,” Lincoln’s voice filled her ears. “She’s having a panic attack.”
“Clarke, it’s okay,” Octavia tried.

Clarke turned away from them, placing her forehead against the building and continuing to gasp. It was getting worse. Her eyes were starting to burn and her body was trembling. She needed more air, now.

Suddenly arms came around her waist, two hands holding her firmly at her stomach. She knew instantly that they didn’t belong to Wells.

“Hear my voice,” Lexa said calmly in her ear. “Focus on it.”
Clarke placed her hands on top of Lexa’s, continuing to gasp.
“Breathe,” Lexa’s whispered. “I’m right here with you. You’re safe.”
Clarke dug her blunt nails into Lexa’s hands and tried again. Nothing.
“Hear my voice.” Lexa’s voice was soft but commanding. “Stay with me.”
Clarke gasped again, finally feeling some air slip into her lungs.
“Good. Now again,” Lexa said quietly, “I’m going to count now. You just focus and breathe.”
Clarke nodded feverishly.
“Five”
The floor that Lexa’s apartment was on. Clarke she inhaled painfully.
“Four.”
The number of glasses that she had broken on Christmas. Clarke took another breath.
“Three”
The three musketeers. Clarke inhaled deeply. It was working.
“Two.”
Me and you. Clarke inhaled sharply, her brow knitting up in anguish at the very thought.

Before Lexa could get to one, Clarke squeezed her hands tightly. “I’m ok,” she assured her.

Instantly Lexa let go and took a step back and Clarke immediately missed the comfort of her embrace. Wells moved forward and put his hand on her shoulder, it didn’t help.

“Thank you for that,” Wells told Lexa as he looked at her with wide eyes.
Lexa nodded firmly at him and then brought her eyes to Clarke’s, her face was showing nothing but concern and compassion. They held their gaze for only another moment, before Lexa nodded again and walked away, followed closely by Anya.

An hour later, Clarke was back in her apartment, sipping on some wine and feeling both mortified and devastated by what had transpired.

“I’ve never seen that happen to you before,” Wells said as he walked into the kitchen.
“It hasn’t happened in a very long time,” Clarke told him as she set her glass down.
“I’m glad that your friends were there,” he admitted as he poured his own glass of wine. “I wouldn’t have had the slightest idea what to do.”
Clarke nodded, but really didn’t know what to say. There was nothing that anyone could have done, with the exception of Lexa, apparently.

She was in trouble and she knew it. She pulled out her phone.

Clarke: I have a problem.
O: No shit.