Clarke doesn’t want to leave Lexa, she really doesn’t. They’ve hardly spent any time together all week, and she misses her girlfriend. A lot.
“Are you sure that you want me to go, Lex?” She asks. She almost wants her to say no, despite the fact that she’e already dressed and standing by the door.
Lexa rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time that night, but then looks at Clarke with a serious expression.
“Yes, Clarke. I’m sure. Go out. You’ve been working all week, and you deserve to have a little fun. You know I’d come, but…” Her eyes drift off to her laptop, which is sitting on her desk. She has a paper that she has to finish, though she doesn’t want to.
Clarke sighs.
“Have fun.” Lexa smiles to reassure Clarke that she means it.
She studies her for a moment before nodding. She can tell that the brunette really does mean it.
“Okay. I’ll be back by one,” Clarke tells her firmly.
“Okay.”
Lexa kisses her on the cheek, but Clarke moves in for one on the lips with a small smile.
“Bye,” she whispers.
Clarke exits their shared apartment to go out with Raven and Octavia, her two best friends, though she is reluctant.
It isn’t that she doesn’t want to go out with them because she does, she really does, but she misses her girlfriend. Between her classes and painting the mural for her mother’s hospital, Clarke has been busy for the last week.
She misses her friends too, but she’d much rather be under the covers with Lexa, watching Netflix all night.
Clarke knows that she needs this, though, so she goes out. She even gets a little – a lot – drunk, and comes stumbling inside the apartment just 15 minutes before one a.m.
Lexa is waiting up for her, to her surprise.
The brunette is curled up on the couch with a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other, her reading glasses on.
“You’re hot,” Clarke says in a quiet voice, startling Lexa.
“Yes,” Lexa says with an amused smile, “and you’re drunk. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“Or we could do something else,” Clarke says in a low voice. She waggles her eyebrows in what is probably supposed to be a suggestive way, but it only makes Lexa chuckle.
“You’re drunk, and the only thing you’ll be doing is sleeping. If you can’t control yourself, Clarke, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No!” She replies. “You’re my cuddle buddy!” Her voice is whiny, and Lexa can’t help but laugh again.
“Alright, Clarke. Let’s go cuddle.”