Magnets
AUGUST 2018
Clarke’s tingling with excitement. This is Lexa. The girl that made her head spin after one stolen glance. The girl who looked adorable while she pouted and cursed after missing her train. But the truth is that even though Lexa doesn’t feel like a stranger to Clarke, she is a stranger. And Clarke is eager to change that fact. They could be friends, can’t they? Nothing stood in there way of being just friends (besides the sexual tension and that goodbye kiss all those years ago, I mean).
Her impatience getting the better of her, Clarke softly knocks on the bathroom door.
“Hey Lex. Doing alright in there? I was thinking about ordering some Thai if you’re interested.”
“Oh um yeah sure. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Not five minutes later Lexa, complete with half dried frizzed curly hair, sheepishly walks out in one of Clarke’s t shirts which is of course covered in dried paint. There is something oddly comforting seeing Lexa in her shirt and sweats though. Like she’s finally home. But that thought is dangerous so the blonde decides to tuck it away in the depths of her subconscious.
Realizing she’s been staring for too long, Clarke shyly averts her gaze.
“Sorry I don’t have any nice clothes here. Sometimes I need space from life so I come here and paint.”
“You mean you rent out a hotel room just to paint? Sounds expensive.”
“I make good money off of my commissions and my hus- my um husband makes a lot of money as well. I have a art studio attached to our townhouse, but sometimes I like to get away for the weekend, revitalized the senses you know.”
There it is. The moment of truth. Clarke has a husband. Lexa knew that ever since she realized Clarke’s wearing a ring on her finger, but hearing the blonde say the words ‘my husband’ stung a little. Lexa knew logically that it shouldn’t bother her. They barely know each other but she couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. She couldn’t help but briefly kick herself for running away that day. For not giving the girl her number. For not keeping in touch. Because maybe if they did, the blonde would be saying ‘my wife’ instead. No. That’s a dangerous foolish thought. So she tucks it away into her subconscious where not even she can access it if she wanted to.
“Yeah I completely understand. Most of the time when I have writer’s block all it takes is a change of attitude and venue.”
The blonde lets out a breath she’s been holding in. There seemed to be some tension in the room at the mention of her husband but it quickly dissipated.
“How is your writing going?”
“Great actually. I’ve published a few books in the last few years.”
“That’s amazing! Anything I would have heard of?”
“Well my most popular book is ‘Love is weakness.’ It’s not as depressing as it sounds I swear.”
“SHUT UP! You’re Alexandria Woods?! Oh my god. I’m sorry I just love that book. I read the sequel ‘More than Survival’ in a day.”
The brunette tucked her head under her chin to stare at the floor, desperately trying to hide her blush. Sure, she’s met hundreds of her fans. Her books are popular. She would have to be blind and deaf not to see that. So yes, Lexa is used to being fawned over. She’s used to women throwing themselves at her because she’s this big fancy writer. But when those blue pools stare back at her with such awe and admiration. Well, that’s like a punch in the gut. All the air in her lungs feel like it’s being released in the time it takes to snap your fingers. She could get used to this feeling, but she can’t. Because this is a very very dangerous feeling to be having for a married woman. But Lexa is stubborn. Almost as stubborn as Clarke. So they both choose to believe that they can fight these dangerous feelings.
They choose to believe they can spend the night talking and catching up as old friends. But they aren’t old friends. They aren’t even ex lovers. Their title is yet to be determined. Tonight might just be the night where they seemingly figure their supposed 'title' out.
///
“Mhmm oh god Lex. I don’t know about you but I can’t even move after that.”
“Well I mean you did consume that chicken pad thai in a matter a minutes. I doubt you’ll be able to move for a while.”
“Hey don’t food shame me! You’re not much better. If I remember correctly you did scarf down that meatball sub and groaned on and on for an hour about how bad your stomach hurt.”
“That was 8 years ago! How do you even remember that? And plus, I was hungry. Train food sucks. Leave a poor girl alone.”
“I could lie and say I have a good memory, but truth is I am just about the most forgetful person ever. I never was able to get that day, to get you out of my head though.”
“Me either. Something about you Clarke. Something about that night. It has stayed with me even after all these years. It’s a very confusing feeling if I’m being honest.”
“We’ve never been anything but honest with each other Ms. Woods. There’s no reasons to start lying now.”
“In that case, I regret not staying in contact with you after that night. I regret it and I have no idea why I still think of you from time to time. But I do.”
“You know, for the longest time I was waiting to run into you again. I don’t know why either. But I knew, no I know, I want you in my life.”
The brunette’s eyes widen as her heart begins to erratically flutter. Clarke has to stop looking at her like that. Like she’s the world. Like she’s the center of her focus. Like there’s nothing and no one else beyond her because there is someone else. And that someone else is the girl’s husband, whoever that may be. But despite that fact both lean in closer. Hesitant but excited just like the first time. There’s this pull. This unexplainable undeniable pull.
Clarke’s lips are dangerously close to Lexa’s. Their hot breath mixes as they shake in anticipation. Hearts beating faster than they should. Bodies inching forward closer than they should. Their worlds are colliding in this one sweet moment. Once their lips touch, something goes off in both of them - something almost primal. The kiss lingers on, continuing as their hands begin to rampantly roam over one another figures. The kiss is no longer just a kiss and it is quickly verging into territory that is no longer innocent.
Lexa can’t get enough. Clarke smells like strawberries and fresh linens. Her mouth tastes of red wine and chicken pad thai, but it’s perfect. Everything about this moment shocks her alive. Everything is going so fast: her mind, her hands, her mouth, her heart. The curves of their bodies meld together as if it was made with that exact intention in mind. Soon Clarke is on top of her, clawing at her scalp. The brunette moans quietly into the kiss, trying to contain herself, trying to think about why this is so wrong. To remind herself that this is wrong. But it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels like the only right thing she’s done in awhile. Her body is tingling and her mind is racing. A familiar ache conjures up in her lower stomach. This feels so right. This feels so wrong. This feels so -
Her thoughts are cut off as the blonde all but throws herself off of the couch. Clarke is crouching over, grabbing at her swollen lips as if to check if that really just happened. Lexa is panting, trying but failing to catch her breath. Trying to return back to her normal fine composure, yet again failing miserably. Because they both know what they are doing is wrong. It’s oh so wrong. The only thing forcing them apart is the shiny rock on Clarke’s finger. So they both stare at the offending object as if staring at it long enough will allow it to disappear. But it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t.
A few moments later, after their heart beats normalize. Their actions begin to sink in not with just their bodies, but their minds. Both girls share wide eyes tinged with fear. Clarke is the first to speak.
“Fuck! Fuck. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I - I obviously am attracted to you, but that’s no excuse. I can’t believe I just did that. I shouldn’t have done that I - I’m -”
“You’re married.”
Lexa timidly interrupts, not quite able to meet the blue eyed beauty’s gaze.
“You’re married. And that can’t happen again. I know that. I can’t deny that I want to spend time with you Clarke. Get to know you. Keep you in my life. I’ll regret walking away again, but you’re married.”
For a moment, it looks as if Clarke is going to argue with Lexa, argue that she’s not married. But she is. She can’t change that fact. She has a husband. Finn. Finn Collins. Son of Senator Preston Collins. Everything in her life would be ruined if this came out. Not only her hard work as an artist, but her family’s reputation. Her step-father is the Mayor. Her mother is running for a seat in senate next election. She can’t do this. No the fact is, is that she is married. And she barely knows this girl. She barely knows this girl. That’s all she has to keep telling herself. All she has to do is lie.
“I’m married.”
Clarke’s voice is quiet and defeated. Quieter than Lexa has ever heard her before. The brunette feels the need to soothe the younger girl standing in front of her. It’s as if Lexa saying ‘you’re married’ to the blonde pained her. It’s as if Lexa insulted her just by stating fact.
“I’m married.”
Clarke says it again, as if she’s reminding herself.
“Are you repeating that for me or for yourself, Klark?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a bit of both.”
Lexa takes one of the girl’s shaking hand, while tucking a strand of blonde tousled hair behind Clarke’s ear with her free hand.
“I can leave right now. It took eight years to run into one another again. More likely than not, we will never cross paths again.”
Clarke’s response was almost immediate.
“I don’t want that.”
“You’re married Clarke. Whatever just happened, it can’t -”
“Happen again. I know. I’m not trying to make you a mistress Lexa. I feel like I already know you better than I've ever known anyone. But still, I want to know more. I want to be in your life in some capacity. Considering what just occurred I don’t think it would be too forward to ask to be your friend?”
“I would love to be your friend Clarke, but do you think that’s possible?”
“What? To be just friends?”
Lexa looked down to the floor and mumbled a small “yes.”
“There’s obviously a connection here. An attraction. But that’s not something we have to act on. We aren’t animals. Despite what just happened, I think we can control ourselves around each other if we put in the effort.”
Lexa hesitantly meets her gazes.
“So friends?”
“Friends.”