Scene 9
Lexa indulged her head upon her folded hand, as she lay awake at 2 am in the morning. Distantly Lexa meandered upon the shallow contours of her blonde who had her back towards her. Lexa knew she was asleep, transfixed in her slumber and Lexa hoped she was dreaming. Not running in the wilderness of her nightmares. Distantly yet again, Lexa swayed her fingers in the air, shadowing her touch on that sleep ridden girl, nearly relishing the touch of silk smooth skin and jumbled up curls. She berated herself moments later for not being able to take her eyes off the cerulean beauty. How could she when she didn’t know what might actually happen to Clarke if she did? It was a panicking thought in itself, to wake in darkened dawn and not find the blonde beside her.
She stared up at the good old ceiling but seconds later, like a moth to a flame, her eyes gravitated to Clarke. Like an invisible string that pulled at her heart. Lexa wanted to blame it on her mommy issues. Of not being able to save her, even though Lexa knew very well she couldn’t. She tried to reason herself, factorize things but they were all a crumbled mess.
Soon after, her mind couldn’t help but wander into uncharted territories, to the story behind that anonymous ring. That graveyard shadow that had embalmed Clarke’s face when she saw it, her stutter, her guilt and the collage of her breakage. Lexa didn’t stop her thoughts there, instead she wondered about the glass pieces of a bleeding heart left on hold somewhere and frowned when she questioned herself if it was Clarke whose heart was broken. That singular thought was stinging enough for Lexa, a taunt to her own self to stop herself to dwell any further. Lexa corrected herself, to not be such a child and bicker about a silly crush that she had unearthly happen to have on someone that was most likely someone else’s, but she couldn’t somehow help but crush on her. Her, who was making Lexa feel like a love struck teenager.
Having enough wrestle in the silence, Lexa finally got up from the lumpy mattress, the chilliness of the night blinding her skin. With haste steps, she tiptoed to Clarke’s side tugging the dismembered blanket closer to her bod before making for the living room.
What Lexa didn’t notice was the slight tug of a smile somewhere in moist blue eyes who snuggled closer to the sheet.
“We should do something?” Lexa once again thrusted a low fat coffee with whipped cream on top, earning a what the fuck, again look from Clarke.
“What?”
“We should do something.” Lexa emphasized, sipping her own hot beverage.
“I don’t feel like doing anything, Lexa.” Clarke reluctantly shrugged. But her words ran into deaf ears.
“We should go somewhere. What do you say?” The idea had suddenly pricked Clarke’s ears but her reluctance still showed.
“I don’t know. What’s with the sudden spontaneity?”
“Nope. It’s more like upholding a promise we did to ourselves. I don’t know about you but I for one, don’t break them.”
Clarke bumped playfully against Lexa, feigning shock. “You are guilty tripping me? Fine. Where do you wanna go?”
“I don’t know. Where do you wanna go?”
“Anywhere.” But here.
“Wait a second.”
Lexa jumped off the mattress running straight to the plastered white wall on the other end. She picked up a dart from the board beside and handed it over to Clarke. Who was utterly confused at the gesture.
“Throw the dart anywhere on the map and we’ll go there.”
The suggestion of Lexa’s was definitely erroneous but Clarke didn’t feel much bothered by it. It seemed … doable?
The first time didn’t exactly go as planned. It kinda went a bit haywire.
“It’s in the middle of a bloody ocean.” Lexa shrieked, hands gripping her own hips.
The second time wasn’t much better either.
“It’s …. Ahhh, some place, Campo Azul? Is that even a place?”
“Nah, doesn’t sound like a place.” Clarke trivialized.
They say third time’s the charm.
“God Lord, it’s ….” Lexa peeked into the position, irked. “In some desert?”
Having had enough of the commentary, Clarke made way for the map herself. She narrowed her eyes to pinpoint the location of the thrown dart. It was true it ended at some desert which was on I-80.
Eyes widened at the realization. “You didn’t look closely, Lexa.”
She pulled up the pin and placed it to the very end of the highway. The shimmer in blue eyes had now erupted into a sharp twinkle.
“We are so going to Las Vegas, Alexandria.”
The enhanced joy skimming out of Clarke’s made Lexa do a sort of an internal dance. Clarke was happy, even it was for the moment and that was a success in itself. She clapped her palms together,
“I don’t think we should waste money on planes. I’ll look up for buses or trains.”
“Lexa, let’s drive.”
“Ark?”
Clarke hummed.
“Hey, Gus. It’s me. I …. Won’t be in New York for some time. Staying with … someone… a friend, I guess. But I’ll be back soon, so don’t worry about anything. Take care of yourself and An. And the company, while that lasts. Well, gotta go. May we meet again.”
Lexa twirled her phone in her hand. Thinking and thinking and thinking. Should she be doing this? Is it even viable for her to leave when your company and your men were at distress? What would the others think? Should she really running into the wild, unknown like a child who has no weight on her shoulders when she should be actually standing her ground here? Should she even go with Clarke? If she didn’t go, would Clarke be disappointed? Thinking, thinking and thinking. The pros and cons of her benignantly long list.
Give me a bloody sign, I don’t know what to do.
“Coming, Lexa?”
Lexa twirled the phone in her fingers. She hesitated but she plucked up her residual courage from the ground. Finally, she placed her phone on Clarke’s desk, picked up her duffel bags, locking the blonde’s apartment behind her.
Life in New York was rushed, fast paced. No time to flip flop and if by any fault you weren’t able to keep up with their breakneck pace, then you must let others pass you peacefully. That was one of the first rules that Lexa had learnt in a bad way. But now they were almost on the outskirts of the city lights. The highway traffic was there but everybody was in their own pace. No ear rupturing honks nor the scream of scurvy cab drivers cab drivers. Lexa tugged one leg over the other, her eyes scanning through the final few pages of Wuthering Heights. She appreciated the endurance of the almost crippled book but the yellow pages in front of her were more than just a book. Books were her silent companion. No complains. No demands.
“The silence is killing me, Lexa.”
Her eyes didn’t leave her book but her ears picked up at the blonde’s rant. Personally, she had been wondering when the blonde who throw out her limbs and seek attention.
Her book might had covered a good portion of her face but Clarke could nearly catch the small smile that the brunette teased her with.
“We haven’t been driving for more than 40 minutes.”
Clarke exasperated. “Whatever. Wanna play 20 questions? come to think of it, I actually don’t know much of you. So…”
She turned her head, clipping fingers tips in front of the woman who was nose deep in her book. Lexa’s eyes widened dramatically,
“Ok but just keep your eyes on the road. We are on a highway after all.”
“Ok, geez, Grandma.”
“So are you a cat or dog person?”
“What?”
“What what?”
“Ok, umm …. I’m more like a fish person. Had one too, once upon a time. I named it Fish, seemed convenient and easy to remember. But An’s horrendous cat soon made Fish it’s new dinner. Her cat eats anything and everything.”
Lexa scowled at the memory and even felt pity on the goldfish that hadn’t even had the chance to complete a month’s anniversary.
“Oh my god. Amen to that demonic stomach. By the way, Fish is an innovative name.” Clarke nodded her head, chuckling hysterically.
“No pets?”
“I wanted one. But mom was allergic or more like “I like it from afar but don’t make it come close to me”. You get the picture.”
A messy bun never had any appeal to Lexa until now. Until she saw that way those curled locks which were scrolling hastily above the driver’s pale forehead. Clarke’s both hands were tight on the steering wheel and often Lexa would find her tilting her head a bit to move the strand of hair. The brunette had to quench her urge of controlling her hands lest they did it themselves.
Her staring was caught red handed when Clarke cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Any crazy stories you want to share, Griffin?”
“Yeah. So, there was this one time where I was dared to annihilate the campus by drawing up lovely graffiti in my underwear. Got caught though. Fuck, Titus wasn’t happy that day.”
Lexa’s blood ran cold at the ensued “underwear”. This was not Lexa was looking for. Her vulgar mind, side-tracked Lexa’s pleas to not indulge in semi-nude imaginary pornographic pictures of Clarke Griffin. But no, Clarke youthful tale had added the fuel that it needed to gear up its unsavoury engine in action. The result, the tightness in the pit of her stomach and the shot of pleasurable pain in between her thighs. Lexa tapped her feet, giving Clarke the best impression of her smile. She couldn’t have Clarke know what her treacherous mind was dwelling in, she just couldn’t die of embarrassment.
“Titus?”
Thank god, Clarke didn't take notice.
“Yeah. Just a guard but thinks the campus as his own kingdom. I heard he had taken up a secluded life, you know, nun kinda. No wonder he has no hair, must have been dying off sexual frustration.”
“Any hidden talents I should know off? You know your way in the bar pretty well, you can drive a boat …..”
Lexa smirked. “Can’t give up all tricks up my sleeve, now can I?”
“Hardy har har.”
“I know krav manga, if that helps.”
“Badass, Commander.”
Lexa nodded her head, eliciting a hearty laugh.
“What?”
“Back at my office, I’m called the Commander. Wow, the coincidence.”
Gleefully, Clarke mused on that thought as well. Fucking coincidence, indeed.
“What’s your middle name?”
“What makes you think I have any? What’s yours?”
“I asked you first.”
“Well, I asked you second.”
“That’s okay, Clarke Dolores Griffin.”
The pregnant pause and the almost shrieking of tire wheels jotted both of them, but fortunately the car didn’t actually stop.
“What the fuck, Lexa. What the fuck … how did you know?”
Lexa snickered in pure delightment, hands clapping against her thigh skin to control herself. The utter shock on Clarke’s face, the mouth gaping perfect O at the slip of the supposed-to-be hidden truth was such an icing on her cake.
“Your insurance bill. Don’t be mad, I think it’s a pretty cute name. Clarke Dolores Griffin, has a nice ring to it.”
“I’m gonna stop my car and choke you.”
“Then I’ll use my safe word. It’s Dolores, by the way.”
“Fuck you, Mikealson.”
“So, what do you do?”
“Stockbroker. Pretty decent one, or I used to be. What about you?”
“Artist. I think you might have gathered that. Have my own gallery back home. It’s all been pretty good.”
“Lucky you.”
Lexa almost didn’t hear her say, “No, not at all.”
“So a closet romantic, huh?”
Clarke was about to look at Lexa who somewhat hissed to keep her eyes on the road ahead.
“What?”
“I had to say something to break the ice. And a certain someone promised me a mind baffling adventure.”
Lexa folded her knees and sat diagonally on her seat, facing Clarke. It’ll be almost an hour since they have been on the road now.
“Have you read Wuthering Heights?”
“No but why do I think I’ll be going to a crash course on it now?”
Lexa nervously bit her bottom lip.
“Well, most doesn’t consider Wuthering Heights to be a romantic novel. It’s not compassionate nor heroic but more petty and devastating. It’s like an antithesis to the concept of heroism. The protagonists are too proud to tell their true feelings to each other, they fight and rage yet long for one another, shed blood tears and to that add the social barrier that separates them.”
Clarke, much to her own annoyance, found herself peeking at towards Lexa. The lazy ponytail and those flickering evergreen colour of her eyes shimmering with fascination, all she while as she ran her long fingertips against the bashed cover of the supposed antique. She was beautiful.
Clarke cleared her throat. “Then why do you like it so much?”
“Because it’s more realistic than others. Love should be epic, not just a beautiful quite bloom. It should be rampant, fuelled with passion and faith. Interbred with lust and longingness.”
“You have a way with words. Such a goofy nerd, Commander.”
“Clarke.” Lexa side glancedly glared at the blonde but it was more of a playful glare.
“What, doofus?” Clarke gave Lexa a light shove on her shoulder.
“It’s words. Words are all I have to take your heart away. By Boyzone.”
Something tethered inside Clarke. Maybe it was the way Lexa said it, the mere way those gentle words made safe passage through those pillow lips, green eyes lashed on blue. It was evoking some substance inside Clarke, the detonation of warmth and Clarke wondered if Lexa felt the same.