Sex, Blood and Vulnerability
Clarke awakes to a dull, rhythmic thumping, that’s just loud enough to irritate her. “What the fuck?” She mumbles as she cracks open an eye, brow furrowing as she realizes that she is not in her own bedroom. Her mind starts to go a mile a minute as she pushes herself into a sitting position, regretting it the moment her head starts to throb.
She lets out a soft groan of pain as she looks around, spotting a glass of water and a bottle of Aspirin ln the night stand. She downed two pills and the entire glass of water, waiting a moment before getting up to investigate the apartment and to find the source of the incessant thumping. Of course she finds it as soon as she opens the door, revealing the toned, barely clothed body of one Lexa Woods, who was running on a treadmill, headphones in, a book in front of her.
Clarke can’t help the soft smile that forms on her face as she leans against the doorframe, watching the brunette work out. Her eyes wandering the tanned body from top to bottom, watching the way her muscles move smoothly just under that thin sheen of sweat forming on Lexa’s skin.
She has to shake herself out of it, panic creeping up her spine as she realizes that she remembers little of the previous night. She tries to reach back for the memories, but only comes up with scenes of her and Octavia battling it out, each trying to keep up with the other’s drinking.
“Well, shit…” She mumbles, her brows furrowed as she wonders if she had slept with her faux fiancé or not. She stays there for a moment, trying to make sense of things; she was clothed when she woke up, in a soft tank top and shorts and with a quick peek, she confirmed (with mild embarrassment) that she was still in the panties from the night before.
Clarke decides that the likelihood of them having had sex was very low, but she feels the need to ask the brunette just to make sure. So, on shaking legs she approaches the treadmill, placing a cool hand on Lexa’s over heated skin. What happens next is something Clarke will never live down.
The moment their skin touches, Lexa lets out an undignified yelp, the cool hand on her arm was enough of a distraction that she missed a beat, her foot catching enough to send her flying forward. Her face collides with the dash control panel before she hits the tread, pushing her back and off the device. Clarke is floored by the sight, surely accidents like these were saved for movies or children’s cartoons and yet, here they were.
The artist reacts quickly enough, turning the machine off, before moving to kneel next to her boss. “Shit…you’re bleeding.” She mumbles, eyes wide as the smell of copper fills the air, making her stomach churn.
“Just go to the bathroom and get me a washcloth.” Lexa snaps, her voice muffled by the hand over her bleeding nose.
Clarke does as she’s told, doing her best not to breathe through her nose as she returns to Lexa’s side.
The brunette presses the green cloth against her bruised nose, holding it there as she tips her head back slightly. “Did you need something earlier? Or are you just trying to kill me?” Lexa asks finally, her tone lighter than before. “Because you should know that you don’t get my life insurance money if we aren’t married.”
Clarke frowns slightly, eyes trained on Lexa’s forehead, wiping the sweat from her palms onto her borrowed nightshirt. “I uh…I wanted to ask what happened last night after we left.” She forces the words out, trying to focus on anything but the flips her stomach were doing. “I don’t remember.”
Lexa’s brow furrows slightly, catching onto the shift in Clarke’s mood, watching the blonde rub her hands up and down her thighs. “Nothing happened, I brought you here and helped you to bed, I slept on the couch.” She replies, placing her clean hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
The artist is quiet for a moment, her face going pale before she pushes herself off the floor and toward the bathroom, thankfully making it just in time to empty what little her stomach held. Lexa follows after her, wanting nothing more than to help. “Lexa, I need you to not be in here right now.” Clarke manages to croak out, before another wave of dry heaving hits her.
The brunette hesitates before exiting the room, a pang of sadness settling in her chest as she makes her way to the guest bathroom to clean up. She wipes away the blood from her face, inspecting her bruised face with gentle fingers. Nothing feels broken and it all looks relatively unchanged, aside from the mild swelling. She nods slightly at her reflection as she washes her hands, knowing she’ll spend the next few days looking like a raccoon.
Once her face is cleaned she moves to her room to change out of her blood stained sports bra, trading it out for a loose fitting cotton tee. She can feel a pair of eyes on her back before she turns around and finds Clarke standing in the door way of the master bathroom, just watching her. “Are you okay?” Lexa asks softly, her brows raised at her fiancé.
Clarke lets out a nervous chuckle as she nods, moving to sit on Lexa’s bed. “I just…I can’t handle blood.” She murmurs, keeping her eyes trained on her hands. “It’s a shame really, considering my mom always wanted me to be a doctor like her.”
Lexa smiles softly, walking toward the bed, opting to sit on the end of it, giving the blonde plenty of room. “It’s not a shame, you’re far too good of an artist to have your soul sucked away by medical school.” Lexa jokes, watching Clarke smile at the hands in her lap.
“I dunno, I could be making a difference as a doctor.” Clarke says, a breathy chuckle escaping her lips as she finally looks up at Lexa, frowning softly. “Holy shit, your face is already really bruised…”
The brunette shrugs slightly, bringing a hand up to poke at the swelling. “Shit happens, I’ll just look like a raccoon for a little while, it’s fine.” She assures the blonde. “I have some clothes you can borrow if you want to shower and then I can get you fed and take you home, okay?”
“Thank you for taking care of me last night…it can’t have been fun for you, I probably ruined your night.” Clarke murmurs, refusing to look her boss in the eye.
“Clarke, you didn’t ruin my night, I honestly didn’t want to go to the club last night in the first place, but you were going and I saw an opportunity to cement our relationship, does that make sense?” Lexa explains, wringing her hands. “When you and Octavia started going head to head with your drinks, I was kind of relieved, I mean I didn’t have to try and convince your friends that you and I are together.”
Clarke nods slightly, the words stinging though she knew she couldn’t take it personally, Lexa was in this to help herself, nothing more. She needed to grow a thicker skin if she was going to handle this. “Okay, I’m still sorry.” She offers a slight smile before sliding off the bed. “A shower sounds like a great idea.”
Lexa nods in reply, leading Clarke to her closet, opening it with a flourish. “Take anything you’d like; the pants might be a little long for you but.” She shrugs, allowing Clarke to inspect the room.
Clarke blinks at the walk-in closet, it’s nearly the size of the room and full to the brim. Everything was organized, all the suits and jackets in their own area and the same was done to even the casual clothes, organized by color and style. “Wow…” She breathes, thinking of her own closet, which was a mess of clothes that ranged from hand me downs to the designer clothes her mother bought for her every few months.
“Good wow, bad wow?” Lexa chuckles, picking out a pair of black skinny jeans and a white button up shirt that somehow looks as though it costs more than Clarke’s rent.
“Good, I mean I have a big closet, but it’s a mess and just…I didn’t think you had enough time to do your work on your own, let alone organize your closet.” She smirks, though her tone is playful as she picks out a flannel and a pair of jeans.
“Oh hush, this is merely a habit, picked up from years of moving around, if everything is in its place, it lessens the chances of losing something.” Lexa replies honestly, humming softly as she walked out of the closet.
“I’m sorry…I was just trying to tease you.” Clarke says softly, a frown on her lips as she follows the woman out.
“Don’t apologize, I didn’t say it to make you feel bad, it’s just the truth.” Lexa says, offering a kind smile to her friend before nodding toward the shower. “Now, off with you, you stink like booze and sweat.” She teases, before disappearing out of the room to take her own shower.
Clarke stands there for a moment, her heart filled with a slew of emotions, most of which she can’t decipher. It isn’t until she hears the guest shower kick on that she moves into the foreign bathroom once more, taking the time to look around.
She is unsurprised by the monogrammed hand towels on the rack, each one reading LW in an elegant script a shade of green that is only slightly lighter than the towels themselves. She brushes her fingers against the plush material before shaking her head, trying not to be too enamored by the lifestyle Lexa has chosen to live. Clarke knows she could live like this, if she didn’t have to sacrifice what she loved and believed in, but she finds that she feels slightly uncomfortable among the expensive looking toiletries lining the shelves in the large walk in shower.
She washes quickly, using as little as Lexa’s product as possible before climbing out, wrapping herself up in one of the hunter green towels folded on the counter. She dries off with deft hands, wrapping her hair up before dressing in her borrowed clothes, feeling slightly odd in the soft material. She rolls the sleeves of the flannel up and leaves the last two buttons undone, before letting her hair down, running her fingers through it to catch any tangles.
After folding up the hem of her jeans once, she exits the bathroom being sure to clean up her mess before finding Lexa. She of course was already ready, damp hair hanging around her face in soft waves, the button up she wore clinging in just the right spots. She was puttering around the kitchen, making what appeared to be a smoothie.
“What are you doing? Thought we were going out to get breakfast.” Clarke says, a smile working its way onto her lips as she sits at one of the bar stools across from her boss.
“It’s just a smoothie, it’ll help your hangover and my need for sugar.” Lexa chuckles, hitting the button on the blender, the sound of the machine whirring to life making Clarke flinch.
“Fuck, you couldn’t have warned a girl?” She asks, holding her head in her hands as Lexa pours them both a glass, setting one in front of the blonde.
“Well, I mean you saw me making the smoothie, I figured you’d be prepared for the noise a blender makes.” Lexa rolled her eyes, downing the drink in a few gulps before rinsing her glass and the machine out, placing them both in the dish washer.
Clarke grumbles lowly as she sips her drink, humming at the sweet taste of berries. “Okay, but my brain is not exactly functioning at the moment, cut me some slack, Commander.”
Lexa sighs softly, leaning against the counter to watch her friend finish the drink, brows raised. “Why must you insist on calling me that? You know I’m not really like that.”
The blonde grins, her eyes twinkling with something unknown that makes Lexa wonder just what’s going through her head. “Maybe, because I know you secretly like it.” Clarke winks, before getting up to rinse her glass out, mimicking Lexa as she places it in the dishwasher.
Lexa’s cheeks are tinted pink when Clarke turns around, her sapphire gaze only serving to deepen the blush. “You have no proof.”
“The proof is written all over your face, sweetheart.” Clarke grins, standing on her toes to peck Lexa’s cheek before moving to the door, surprised to see her flats from the previous night sitting next to it.
Clarke is slipping her shoes on when a pouting Lexa joins her, a pair of worn converse on her own feet. “You are not to tell anyone.” Lexa murmurs, a dangerous tone in her voice, despite the slight smirk that curves her lips.
“Now why would I do that?” Clarke asks, allowing Lexa to lead them out of the apartment and toward the parking garage. “I have power now, I wouldn’t give that up to anyone, not even you.” She chuckles lowly, watching her boss blush once more.
The brunette is quiet the entire walk to the car and even a short time during the drive, but after a while she starts to thaw, chatting with Clarke about Aden when the subject is brought up. “He was so small when he was first brought to the group home, I was about thirteen, nearly fourteen and poor Titus had never had a child that age in his group home.”
“I remember Aden just crying and crying that first night and I had finally had enough and I took him from our caretaker and bounced him in my arms slowly while I made a bottle for him, I had been in and out of enough homes by then that I knew the basics of taking care of children.” Lexa continues, even as they’re pulling into the parking lot of the diner. “He quieted down pretty quick and I guess I just sort of fell in love, I helped raise him and protected him.”
Clarke watches Lexa with rapt attention, her bottom lip pressed between her teeth, she had never seen the brunette like this before, so open and vulnerable. “Then what happened when you were adopted?” She asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lexa lets out a quiet laugh, though Clarke knows it isn’t genuine. “I was playing in the yard with Aden, it was just like any other day and we had come inside to get something to drink, he was only three then…” She takes in a slow breath, leaning back in her seat, eyes glued to the steering wheel.
“Titus came in and said I had a visitor, it was Gustus Woods, he had visited me a few times before and expressed interest in adopting me but I had always turned it down, I was going to filter out of the system around that time anyway and I didn’t want to leave Aden.” She runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head a bit.
Clarke can’t help but rest a hand on Lexa’s thigh, though she doesn’t say anything, she hopes that her support is known. The brunette moves her hand over Clarkes, squeezing it gently before she continues her story.
“Titus gave me this speech about how I could do more as the daughter of a man with money and influence than I could as a former foster kid trying to find a job and housing, he was right…but it didn’t make leaving Aden any easier.” Lexa sighs softly, fighting off the tears that threaten to spill. “I made Gustus promise to fund the home, make it better for kids and he did more than that, he even flew me down to visit Aden every month...”
Clarke sniffs softly, unaware she was crying until she felt the tears cooling against her cheek. “Sounds like you made the right decision.” She says finally, moving her hand to grip Lexa’s tightly.
“I think so too, but it still kills me…him still being in that home.” Lexa takes a soothing breath, wiping her eyes with her free hand. “I thought maybe someone would adopt him, but I don’t know if he’s been sabotaging his chances because he’s waiting for me…or if he’s just going through what I did, some foster parents think they want a kid until they realize the government check isn’t really worth it.”
“I’d like to think he’s waiting for you, you were the only mother figure he had for those times and it seems like you two love each other very much.” Clarke murmurs, rubbing slow circles against the back of Lexa’s hand. “And I think if we’re going to do this…well, I’d like to meet him.”
The editor pauses for a moment, pulling her lip between her teeth before she nods slightly. Though she was terrified for the future, she could tell Clarke was kind enough to see things through, to help her fulfill the one promise she had ever made. “Okay.”