Birthdays and celebrations
Birthdays meant celebration and happiness, but what use was there for joy when Clarke was not there with her.
Lexa was not pleased, no she wasn’t. Her 12 year old self was throwing a tantrum because her best friend had extra classes and wasn’t at her party. Sulking, she jabbed at her slice of cake with a vengeance, not noticing her father give her an amused glance.
“Lexa, sweet pea, why are you so down?” Gustus knew the precise reason, and yet he also knew that the same blonde girl was already in her father’s car being driven to the party.
He heard a mumbled reply, “Clarkes-not-here…”
Gustus glanced up to see that his daughter’s personal angel clambering over the garden gate and stumbling towards them.
“Well, then I don’t suppose you know anyone with blonde hair and blue eyes, goes by the name of Clarke?”
“Wha-”
“LEXAAAAAAAAAAAA”
His daughter’s entire demeanour changed, her back straightening and eyes brightening, she whipped around just in time for the blonde to crash into her, her limbs already tightly held in place.
To say Lexa was confused was an understatement, “You’re here?! But-bu- i thought yo- huh?”
“You didn’t think I’ll miss my best friend’s birthday, silly? I did all my work at home and the tutor said i could end early!” Clarke’s chest puffed up, her voice slightly muffled from being buried into Lexa’s neck.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Clarke,” Lexa sniffled, tears already threatening to spill from her wide green eyes.
“Me too.”
-
8 years later:
Lexa was yet again in the same sulking position, holding a similar fork and stabbing a similar cake, her father sitting across from her wearing the same amused expression.
“Where’s Clarke?” he teased.
“You know where she is, dad, don’t be mean,” she flicked a dollop of icing at him, which he promptly avoided.
“Bet you’re missing her, huh?”
Lexa sighed, of course she missed Clarke. Clarke, with her sun-kissed hair and creamy skin. Clarke, with her sky-filled eyes and gentle voice. She missed Clarke, even her over-protectiveness, and Lexa? Lexa was an emotional mess.
“You know, too bad you miss Clarke,” Gustus began, “because guess who’s right behind you.”
“What?”
“LEXAAAAAAAAAAAA”
“Oh-mygodmmph!”
In the process of being surprised, Clarke had yet again clambered over the garden fence and through the crowd and decorations, settled herself on Lexa’s lap (careful not to jostle the slight bump protruding from Lexa’s belly), smothering her with tiny kisses.
“You didn’t think our miss our own baby shower, did you?” her hands gently easing out the small frown on Lexa’s face, letting out a small giggle when lexa’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Clarke.” Damn the pregnancy hormones, her wife was here and their child is growing, and Lexa is happy.
“Me too.”