Chapter 1
A/N: I thought about this fic for a while. Hope you guys love it!
You wonder how much pain you can swallow before you fall apart. The nights are long, too long. In those painstakingly long hours you breathe, uncertainty and loneliness seeps into your bones. Instead of lighting on fire, they become even colder. You try to make sense of the tragedy you call your life, but realize you know less and less every time. You try to remember a moment when you weren’t under pressure, but you can’t seem to recall it. “Future” seems like a foreign concept. You struggle to understand how you can feel so much and nothing at all at the same time. It makes your head hurt, so you stop analyzing. You just want everything to halt, to lie still; you just want to stop running around like crazy. Always searching, always waiting and… “Almost” is the word etched into your skin and bones. You feel it everywhere, weaved into everything you do, say and feel. Nothing ever is enough, and you grow weary of constantly being not good enough. You want peace and stillness and laziness, but you think about how much needs to be done and you just exhale violently. You used to like being busy, now you’re just not so sure anymore. You blame the apathy that has settled into the back of your mind, just out of reach.
You close your eyes and fall asleep to the sound of rain when there is none.
*****
Your parents always told you that you have to be the best at everything. And even when they weren’t constantly repeating this to you, you started doing it yourself. Not that you think you’re better than everyone else, no, you’re not that arrogant. You just want to be everything your parents ever hoped for. It is a weird feeling and you often feel like a hypocrite. One second you want to succeed because you’re ambitious yourself, the next – you want your parents to be proud of you. Sometimes – you just hate them with all of your heart completely. You constantly juggle these feelings and it takes a huge toll on you. You didn’t even notice the depression permeating your life until you find yourself crying silently on the kitchen floor at 3 AM. Even now, you remember the blood dripping across your skin, painting the white floor crimson red.
People say that it gets better. You haven’t noticed.
*****
You groan as you get out of bed, unhappy that you sleep far less than you should (you get 4 hours at best). You’re not sure you even know what month it is, not to mention the day of the week. Every day is the same. Your self-destructive tendencies thrive wildly. You’ve stopped looking both ways when crossing the street; you indulge in your “coffee and cigarettes” breakfast; you never eat anything else. Every day is a blur of dark colors, but the world keeps on spinning. You stop paying attention to it entirely.
You sigh and plaster on a fake smile when you walk into the university, knowing that this will get you less questions. Less questions means less talking about the things that don’t matter. You pull through, even though you see your cracked face in the bathroom mirror on every break in between the classes. You wonder if anyone notices how much your lips hurt, that your eyes are cold and dead. Probably not. Sometimes you do thank people for their ignorance.
*****
“Lexa” you hear someone shout your name from a distance. You turn your head to see your friend Octavia. You met her and Raven in your first year, when you accidentally bumped into them in the cafeteria. Your backpack slung over your shoulder, just like now, you were trying to figure out the class schedule and the locations of the auditoriums. You didn’t even notice the two girls right in front of you until you realized that you were falling. You were waiting for them to scream at you, to yell “Watch where you’re going!” or something similar, something insulting. They never did. They helped you up and gathered your things; they even bought you a cup of hot coffee because you just couldn’t stop shaking. You became friends soon after.
“Yeah?” You stop and wait for her to catch up with you in a crowded corridor.
“I wondered if you are free today after-, do you feel alright? You look kind of pale to me,” Octavia asks, concerned. You just clutch your books to your chest tighter, shutting off.
“I’m fine, just didn’t sleep much. I had to study for that social politics class,” You answer automatically. It’s easier to say that you’re tired, rather than explain why you’re sad. Especially when you don’t know either. You don’t want to worry her with things you don’t know yourself, with things you can’t understand, things you can’t seem to find the appropriate words for.
“Ok, see you later then.” You can see that Octavia is not fully convinced, but she doesn’t pry.
“Sure,” You smile softly as you go to your next class.
*****
You sit in your copyright law class and try to pay attention, to take notes, but your mind just keeps on wandering. You think about things that are definitely not related to copyright law by any means. You think about the stars, the universe, the planets and their landscapes. You think how peaceful it would be if you had your own little planet, how you would solemnly float in outer space, alone. Someone coughs nearby and you break out from your thoughts. You sigh as you put away your pen, understanding that you won’t write down much anyway. You tuck a strand of your curly hair behind one ear and look around the auditorium, observing other students and their ways of coping with this boring as hell class. You decide to count how many students are in attendance, how many of these little individual planets are floating in this general spaces of yours. You’re impressed that most are listening to the lecturer, or maybe they are just sleeping with their eyes open, who knows. When your eyes land on a blonde that is clearly drawing something, your breath hitches at how beautiful she is. Her shoulder length wavy hair cascades down her face, framing it. The sun hits her hair just right; it looks like everything around her is dyed in gold.
You seem to forget how to breathe.
*****
This becomes a habit somewhat. You watch the beautiful blonde in your copyright law class. Sometimes she talks with a girl sitting nearby and they’d laugh at something. Sometimes she pays attention and even takes notes of the class. But most of the time she spends drawing. You’re not sure though, you think that she’s drawing. It’s in the way she intently holds the pen in her left hand, how her jaw clenches and unclenches at times, how she stares attentively at the paper in front of her. You somewhat find it funny, because this class is one of the more difficult ones this semester, but it doesn’t seem that the blonde is fazed by this at all.
Sometimes she looks around the auditorium herself and when your eyes meet, she just smiles softly as you pretend to be looking somewhere else entirely. But you’re smiling, too.
*****
“Lexa!” Someone yells your name. The voice is unfamiliar, so you just feel very confused. You turn around to see the blonde from your copyright class stare at you expectantly. Wait, it can’t be? How does she know who you are? She’s more beautiful than you thought, now that you finally see her up close. Her wavy hair, her blue eyes, the dimple on her chin… A weird feeling sets into your stomach. You realize you still haven’t answered though.
“Ye-, yes?” You stutter as your voice is hoarse from not speaking for a while, your hand is gripping the strap of your backpack, your sleepy mind awake in seconds.
“You forgot your notebook in class,” she says casually, waving your forgotten notebook in front of your face while smiling. Her smile is so bright you have to stare at the ground for a bit.
“Oh… Yeah, thank you,” you say lamely as you carefully take the book out of her hands, not really understanding how you could have forgotten it in the first place. “By the way, how did you know my name?” You ask curiously, realizing that you have never introduced yourself. You would have remembered, you’re sure about that.
“It’s written on the first page, silly,” the blonde answers simply. “Lexa Woods,” she says your name as she starts walking in the opposite direction, probably making her way to another class, or maybe back to the dorms.
“Wait!” The blonde slows at your words and stares back at you, waiting. “And you are?” you try as she smiles widely.
“Have fun figuring it out, Lexa,” she smirks and then turns around, quickening her pace and vanishing from sight.
You are left standing in the middle of the crowded corridor, holding the notebook, intrigued.
*****
“Raven,” you start. “Do you know who that girl is?” You point out the blonde as the two of you, plus Octavia, are having lunch in the cafeteria, sitting at the table and watching the girl that is a little further ahead.
“Which one?” Octavia interrupts, playfully showing the food in her mouth, stretching her neck and looking around. “Clarke?” She asks, but you just shrug, not certain.
“Yeah, it’s Clarke,” Raven confirms. “Why do you ask?” She wiggles her eyebrows and bursts out laughing as your cheeks burn a bit.
Clarke. You like this name. You like how it rolls off of your tongue when you pronounce it. It’s not a common name; you’ve never heard a girl’s name like that, but still, you think it suits her.
“I just have copyright law with her and she returned my forgotten notebook the other day,” you say, picking at your food. “How do you know her?” You glance towards Clarke again. She’s sitting with 4 people and they are all laughing heavily.
“We’re good friends with her,” Octavia says, her mouth full. “We hang out together.”
“Yeah?” You stop eating for a bit, surprised. “Why have I never seen you at the university together?”
“We usually hang out after classes,” Raven interjects, holding out her empty fork for emphasis. “Cause all of our classes are so different but they usually end at the same time.”
“Wait, it’s the same Clarke you always talk about? The same one that is studying art?” You can’t believe how stupid you are. Though Raven and Octavia have never mentioned what she looked like so you can’t really blame yourself that much for ignorance.
“Yeah, the same one,” Octavia confirms, shoving more food into her mouth and chewing aggressively.
“We’re grabbing coffee after classes today,” Raven smiles and finishes eating, pushing the empty tray away from her. “Want to join us?”
“I’m not sure,” your throat is suddenly very dry. “Can I?” Your voice is tentative, unsure.
“Of course you can, Lexa, you’re our friend,” Raven says while getting up. “Text you later?”
“Sure,” you nod as you get up too, finished with your lunch, carrying the tray in one hand and your backpack in another.
"Come on, O. We need to get to our physics class. Mr. Johnson won’t like it if we’re late,” she pushes Octavia playfully and you hear Octavia complain for the hundredth time to not call her “O” and how Mr. Johnson doesn’t like anyone anyway.
*****
“Wait, let me get this right. So you’re Lexa, the Lexa that is studying international politics?” Clarke asks astonished. “And I only get to meet you now, even though we’ve had copyright law for an entire month?” She stares at you intently and you just laugh and take a sip of the warm coffee in your hands.
“Raven, why the fuck have you never told me that Lexa and I have classes together?” Clarke turns and nudges Raven, who’s been complaining about her engineering class to Octavia.
“How am I supposed to know who you have classes with? I know tons of people who have tons of different classes,” Raven says, annoyed, as Octavia drinks the whole cup of black coffee in one gulp, crumpling the paper cup afterwards.
“Easier, Octavia,” you warn her. “Don’t want your heart to jump out of your chest,” all of you laugh while Octavia grumpily mutters something under her breath.
“I’m just pissed that I have to write an essay for tomorrow and can’t meet up with Lincoln tonight,” her head is down and long dark hair cascades over her face, her sharp jaw is tight, fists clenched.
“Same, I wanted to meet up with Finn,” Raven says sadly, tightening her ponytail and taking a sip of her coffee. “Why the hell does the lecturer need an essay due tomorrow when he only told us about it today?” Her angry face scrunches as her hold on the paper cup tightens.
“Easy there, you will both manage,” Clarke says, smiling warmly and getting up. “Should we head back to the dorms?” The blonde asks, as you and Raven finish your drinks and get up as well.
“Yeah, we need to write that idiotic essay,” Octavia says as she starts gathering up her things.
“What about you, Lexa?” Clarke asks while the four of you leave the coffee shop, not that far from the dorms. Though it’s early autumn, the wind is really chilly and all of you complain about the cold immediately.
“Nothing for tomorrow,” you answer shyly, suddenly not knowing how to act around Clarke. The Clarke that Octavia and Raven told you so much about. The funny, beautiful Clarke Griffin who is studying fine arts and is incredibly talented and smart.
“Good, your classes are as hard as they are, you need to relax sometimes. Especially when all of us are already in our third year. It’s tiresome,” Clarke says dramatically and laughs, but you feel your chest tighten with a feeling you can’t recall.
The four of you walk to the dorms, chatting. Raven and Octavia are roommates and live in the 1st dormitory building which is the closest. You and Clarke live in the 3rd building, just a bit further. You say your goodbyes to Raven and Octavia, wishing them good luck with their essays. They just groan in response and you giggle lightly as Clarke laughs wholeheartedly. You can hear Raven yelling “It’s not funny!” inside of the building, her voice echoing. You and Clarke continue walking towards your dorms.
“I’ve had fun today,” Clarke interrupts the somewhat awkward silence as she searches your face.
“Yeah, me too,” you look up at her and it suddenly doesn’t seem as cold as it was. But maybe it’s just your imagination. You’re both silent again, but it is much more comfortable. You finally reach the building and take the stairs as you climb to the second floor. Then Clarke suddenly stops. You almost walk into her, not noticing how abruptly she stopped in the middle of the hall.
“This is my dorm,” she points with her head to the door and starts searching her bag.
“Mine is just a bit further,” you say, dumbfounded. “I can’t believe we never ran into one another.”
“Weird, right?” Clarke shakes her head in disbelief, both hands shoved in her bag. “I mean, you just live down the hall and we even have classes together. I have no idea how we’ve never met.”
“Well, I don’t really get out that much; I usually spend the time in my room studying,” you answer shyly as you avoid her eyes and stare at the wooden door of her room.
“Nerd,” the blonde smiles. “What about your roommate?” Clarke asks still searching her bag, not able to find the key.
“I don’t have one,” you state simply. “I live in a single dorm room”.
“You do? Damn, I’m so jealous. I mean, not that my roommate is horrible but sometimes I’d like some privacy or something and I never-” Clarke rambles a bit and then stops. “It was really nice meeting you. Those two idiots talk a lot about you.”
“Really? What do they say?” You’re somewhat concerned because Raven and Octavia are not exactly predictable people and you wonder what they could have told her.
“Only the good things, I assure you. But I’m mad they never told me…” Clarke finally takes out the key to her room and unlocks the door.
“They never told you what?” You don’t understand as Clarke observes your curious face for a bit.
“That you’re so breathtakingly beautiful,” Clarke smiles that bright smile, and then slips into her dorm room without a sound.
You stand near her door for quite some time. Just until your cheeks stop burning. Just until you remember how breathing and walking works.
*****
Weeks pass and you and Clarke spend more and more time together. You grab coffee at the coffee shop, silently read books together, listen to music in your dorm room and hang out whenever you have the chance. You feel as if you’ve known her as long as Raven and Octavia, even if it isn’t true. You always wait for her (or the other way round) after the copyright law class and you go to the dorms together. You start spending more time together, the four of you – often grabbing lunch and making fun of Octavia’s way of eating. Clarke is a great listener, she always has her opinion and it is always backed up. Clarke is funny, smart, beautiful, charming… You like the weight of her hands on your shoulders when she pulls you into a hug and your face burns bright red. You like how your shoulders bump into each other when you sit together during lunch, listening to Raven complain about how everyone in her engineering class is an idiot. But today…
But today is weird as hell. You feel as if something is about to happen, you’re not even sure what, but it haunts you like a bad omen. The copyright class is boring as always. You sneak a glance at Clarke. She’s just staring somewhere blankly, not really seeing anything and something unknown rises in your chest. Is it possible for your heart to beat this fast when you’re dead inside? The class is over before you know it, and you just stare at Clarke, distraught. Your hands are shaking and you curse yourself for being such a coward. Why are you afraid to talk to her? You became good friends, you talk almost every day, what is it that today is so different? But it’s as if you’re rooted to the ground, unable to take a step forward, unable to breathe. You see locks of blonde hair even from where you’re standing in the auditorium. You ignore a short flutter. As you mutter “Fuck” to yourself multiple times, you carefully approach her.
“Hey, Clarke,” you say, trying to act casually but something deep down feels so wrong.
Her head hangs low as she’s putting books back into her bag, getting ready to go to the dorms, but you feel a certain, almost invisible, sadness in her movements. Your stomach turns.
“Hi, Lexa,” she barely mutters, her voice shaking.
“What’s on your mind?” You try, but you realize that these are dangerous waters you tread. Clarke says nothing, just smiles sadly and walks away.
You wonder if you are not the only one broken here, too.
*****
You and Clarke haven’t talked for a few days. You don’t want to push her, you want to give her time, but you feel pain in your chest because you don’t know what happened. And you don’t want to be intrusive and pry, you never like when other people do that to you, but Clarke is not you and you’re not really sure what you should do.
“I’m fine, just tired,” your smile is guilty as you lie through your teeth and Raven shakes her head in disapproval. But nobody else notices because you’re that damn good. “I’m just sleepy/ tired/ had so much shit to do/ drank too much” any of these work like a charm every time. Nobody ever questions it because they know how seriously you take your studies. It’s just that you’ve been depressed and absolutely unmotivated for the past few months but you never tell anyone. You hide the scars under long sleeves of your shirts.
“I know that you’ve been feeling down lately, is it because of your parents?” Raven asks.
“No,” you answer as you pull out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of your leather jacket.
“Lexa, talk to me,” Raven pleads as she leans into the corridor’s wall, concern evident in her eyes. You break a little because you want to but you just… can’t.
“I can’t really explain it,” you put a cigarette between your teeth and walk into the rain knowing that she won’t follow. No umbrella to cover you as you struggle for a few seconds with a cheap lighter before it finally gives in. You purposely inhale too much and feel lightheaded, barely able to suppress a cough coming from your chapped lips. You brush it off and repeat the action again. You repeat it multiple times, again and again. You think about how some people can be dead while still being alive.
*****
You barely sleep, just think and think about everything going wrong. You spend your day vacantly staring through the window, listening to the same song on repeat for hours. You never really hear it.
It takes an immense amount of energy to get up. You don’t want to go to classes, you just want to stay inside and forget about the world and its pretenses. But you know that this is not the way it goes. You lock the door and pretend that you don’t notice the dark clouds and the rain.
*****
You just stand there observing her, your eyes travelling the length from her shoulders to the small of her back. She turns to you and gives you a warm smile. You return the smile, but instead of meeting her eyes, you stare at the ground. “Is everything fine?” You think. “You should just talk to her.” You don‘t know, you‘re just coming up with reasons to hear her voice, to see those blue eyes, to listen to that laugh. Maybe you should give her space? But maybe you should at least try to talk to her? You need to try, just a bit, just a little more, but you feel conflicted. A million thoughts fly by. You open your mouth, at that same moment you hear a short “Bye” and the thought is lost forever.
*****
You fucked up big time. And you can’t even blame it on anyone, you weren’t even drunk.
He leans in and kisses you over the gearbox and you revel in the moment, having longed for any sort of human contact. Your brain screams at how wrong it is, but for once, you just shut it off completely. He has been eyeing you all evening, asking things. You know that look; you’ve learned to read men well. But not women. Who cares, right? He tells you jokes and asks you relevant questions. He is nice, polite and smart. He smiles and you think how easy it would be. The bar is full and the birthday party of your friend is going well. You sip your drink and think that this is fun, to go out, to meet new people, to forget. The bar is full of people and you don’t even notice it, you give all of your attention to him. You talk more; he later gives you a ride home. You think about how liking him would be easy, it should be right, not the disastrous way that you fall for women who don’t give a fuck about you. No, not that, not entirely. They just never seem like you back.
You forget about how it’s seven in the morning. You forget about the possibility of leading him on. You forget about the girl with locks of gold and a sad smile. You forget about everything and just kiss him back.
*****
You smoke a second cigarette and take a big gulp of the bitter coffee. Your head pulses and there’s a surge of caffeine in your blood. You close your eyes and let yourself forget everything for a few seconds. But when they end, you’re drowned in the heaviness of reality again. You walk down the corridor, the space seems so confined, so narrow. You sit through a boring copyright law class and don’t listen to anything at all. You just think about how complicated everything is. About how you never are able to make it better. Not for yourself, not for anyone else. Useless.
“You’re distraught,” someone says and you just murmur something about a birthday party and a fucked up sleeping schedule. There’s a headache threatening to bloom, but you just ignore it and continue staring through the window. The world disappears altogether.
*****
“Lexa,” Clarke says silently as you are trying to unlock the door to your room. You freeze at the sound of her voice. You turn to find her there, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Both of you are silent and staring at each other.
“Clarke,” you nod at her, emotionless.
“I’m-, I’m sorry,” you hear her say. Your heart might flutter if it wasn’t so dead. It takes seconds for you to acknowledge the fact that you’re about a meter away, and it’s so close, yet not close enough. The clock is ticking and time is melting away painfully.
“I’m so sorry,” Clarke repeats. You can hear the hurt in her voice, she is hurting.
You open your mouth; you want to say something, anything. Casually tell her how beautiful her smile is, ask about her plans for the weekend. But you just quietly watch her leave, regret bitter on your tongue.