Chapter 3
A/N: Thank you so much for all of your positive feedback and kudos, I really appreciate it :)
Also, shoutout to my friend Will for editing the chapters and correcting the mistakes. Thank you!
I hope you guys like this chapter. Enjoy
You awake to warmth encompassing you, head still sleepy, slowly waking from a dreamless sleep. You don’t remember the last time you slept so well; you’re used to sleeping for 4 hours a day, the quality of your sleep still terrible even then. Sleep was never comforting, at least not in the sense that it was to others. You considered it as a few hours when you couldn’t think and feel, when you felt a small victory against the world and its pretenses. But you always woke up tired, you’re in the constant state of exhaustion that sleep probably just couldn’t fix anymore. That’s why you despised it. Though today was different, you feel content even if your mind still craves sleep. You feel comfortable, soft and as you sigh, you embrace the source of warmth even tighter, not fully realizing what it is yet.
“Lexa,” Clarke giggles. “You’re kind of squishing me,” she says in a hoarse voice and you can’t help but love it. Clarke’s voice is husky and beautiful, even if she recited an engineering textbook, you’d never get bored of that voice. A thought of how you’d like for every morning to be like this flies by and disappears, leaving little footprints in your hazy mind.
A second later you finally comprehend what position you are in and it is as if the whole room is suddenly out of air. You’re lying on your left side, face buried in Clarke’s chest, both of your legs intertwined, Clarke’s hands are under your shirt, on the small of your back. It should feel weird; it should feel compromising, awkward. But it isn’t, it just feels strangely normal and comfortable and so right. Something flutters in your stomach. You know that both of you are dancing towards something here, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. Not yet at least. Not when you’re still so unsure.
“Good morning,” you mutter. Your mind is not yet awake and you feel like you could sleep so much more. More minutes, more hours. It’s as if all of the exhaustion started pouring out of you slowly but surely. You’re sleepy, but not as tired as you always are in the early hours of the day.
“Good morning, Lexa,” you hear Clarke say. “Have you slept well?”
“I have. But I’m sorry I fell asleep,” you mumble into Clarke’s chest, never opening your eyes and tightening your grip on her bare waist. Clarke’s black tank top has ridden up as well as your white T-shirt, so now you’re skin to skin, stomach to stomach. It feels electric.
“I didn’t really notice until your head fell on my shoulder,” she laughs. “I was so invested in the movie,” Clarke’s hands start drawing some kind of designs on your back and you shiver. Her hands are warm against your cold skin and her touch feels like fire.
“Did it end well? I really can’t remember the ending. By the way, what time is it?” You say and a yawn escapes your mouth.
“It did, the ending was good. A bit sad, but good, it gave closure. And it’s 9:04 AM, still quite early,” she answers yawning as well, her body tensing for a few seconds.
“Can I sleep a bit more?” You ask as Clarke laughs and there’s a small vibration in her chest. “I still feel sleepy.”
“Of course you can, Lexa,” you embrace Clarke again, your abs tensing as her stomach presses warmly into your skin, her hands travelling up your back to rest just above your black bra. “Is this, is this ok?” She asks somewhat uncertainly, and you think that you’ve never heard Clarke so insecure before. This was something new, a new territory.
“Yes. It is,” your hands encompass her waist even tighter, hugging her skin and bones, noticing how well your hips fit against hers. Like pieces of two different puzzles.
“What about your boyfriend?” Clarke asks unsure. “I mean, my roommate said she saw you hanging out with this guy at the bar and,” she begins to ramble and it makes you smile.
“I don’t have one,” you reassure her with a simple statement.
“Oh… Alright then,” Clarke’s breathing becomes more even, calmer as well. “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” you say against her chest.
You drift off into a dreamless sleep again, realizing for the first time in god knows how many months, that your morning might just be all right.
*****
The smell of coffee wakes you up. You feel the absence of warmth in your bed, so you slowly peel one eye open. You see Clarke sipping coffee, holding the mug with two hands and reading a magazine. Her hair, the golden waves frame her face perfectly. She scrunches her face a bit and you can’t help but smile at how cute she looks.
“Good morning again, beautiful,” Clarke says, not even looking at you. Before you can even ask how she knew you’re awake, she continues. “I noticed the stirring.”
“Good morning,” you yawn and stretch. From the corner of your eye, you notice Clarke staring at your bare stomach. You slowly untangle yourself from the blanket around your body and get up. “You could have mentioned you know how to read minds, I’d be more careful,” you say as you sit down beside Clarke at the small round dining table.
You notice the huge pot of coffee on the table, the fruit and pastries that you both bought yesterday for breakfast. You grab an empty mug from the table and pour yourself some hot coffee. As you bring the cup to your lips, you can’t help but to notice how breathtaking Clarke is in the morning. Well, she always is, but there’s just something about the way she looks in morning light. Her messy hair, the muscles of her shoulders, the length of her bare legs, the blissful smile on her face and-
“See something you like?” You hear Clarke say and your cheeks heat up as she giggles.
“You’re such a tease, Clarke,” she giggles again. “When did you wake up?”
“About 20 minutes ago,” Clarke says as she takes a look at the clock on the wall, then brings the mug to her lips and takes a small sip of the drink.
You both sit in silence for a while, Clarke’s still reading the magazine while you eat breakfast and drink coffee. You can’t help but notice how nice it is. Finally having a good night’s sleep, eating a normal breakfast, having someone to wake up with…
“Lexa?” Clarke’s voice snaps you back, but you don’t realize it yet. “Lexa?” Clarke tries again.
“Yeah?” You look at her. “Sorry, I was thinking,” you spark her interest right away.
“About what?” She puts the magazine aside and asks you, picking up a croissant from the plate in front of her.
“That this is nice,” your voice trembles a bit as you stare at the dark liquid in the mug.
“It is,” you take a look at Clarke as she gives you a warm smile and takes a bite of the croissant.
You finish drinking coffee at the same time as Clarke finishes eating. You stand up to wash your mug in the sink, but Clarke stands up as well and you feel a bit confused. She comes closer and takes the mug right out of your hands, places it back on the table. You gulp as you hear your pulse pounding in your head.
“I said I’ll take revenge. And revenge is a dish best served cold,” Clarke tackles you and you both fall on your bed, still warm. You struggle, but it’s futile as she lifts up your shirt a bit and grabs your waist, her hands icy cold.
“What the fuck?” You squeal as Clarke pins you down and you can’t move, you desperately try to shove her hands away, but her grip is unrelenting. “Why are your hands so fucking cold?”
“It’s because I chilled the mug that I was holding,” Clarke laughs as you try to wriggle your way out. “I tricked you into thinking I was drinking coffee when it was like super cold water.”
“You’re like a criminal mastermind, you’re dangerous,” you can’t help but to notice how cunning and smart Clarke was and how she played you. You’re really impressed.
“Am I really?” Clarke lowers herself and puts her head on your chest, her cold hands never leaving the skin of your waist, stroking it gently.
“No,” you say simply.
Neither of you say anything else; you just hold each other tight in a mess of limbs and hair.
*****
You and Clarke are in a weird phase. You like each other. “Quite blatantly” Raven once stated. Octavia said that you both need to get it on before you go crazy or drive Raven and Octavia crazy. The thing is that you don’t know how to act. It’s like a game of who breaks, who makes the first move. You’re not afraid; you’re just insecure and not sure. You have never talked about relationships or what they mean to you. What if it’s just having a bit of fun to Clarke? No, you don’t believe it to be so. Either way, you’re grateful that Clarke seems to know how to comfort you in just the right way, never pushing and asking too much. You’re grateful, but you never tell her. She knows it. It’s an exchange really. You comfort her as well, when she’s fighting her own demons, her own battles, her own nightmares. You just usually hold her hand and never say a word.
Silence is golden.
*****
It’s Wednesday and the both of you decide to see a movie in a theater. You invited Raven and Octavia, but they were both busy with their physics homework (“I hate this professor” Octavia screamed at the phone while Raven groaned in the background). Does it make this a date? Is this a date? Like a proper date? You have no idea. You’ve spent so much time together with Clarke that you’re not sure you even need a date. You watch movies in your room, you go grab coffee together, but you’ve never really went out somewhere. Is going out to the movies considered a date? No? Yes? Your head just starts hurting from overthinking. This is probably just a friendly outing. No, this sounds silly. But does it? You overthink as you dress and you get a text from Clarke, saying that she’s waiting outside. You speed up and practically run to the door, not quite understanding why Clarke is not waiting in the hall like always.
“Hey,” you hear Clarke say and you turn your head. Clarke’s in a brown skirt that rests above her knees, but not too short, with a white sleeveless blouse with a cute black embroidered design. You lose the ability to speak for a few seconds. “Let’s go?” She asks, and you look at her dumbfounded.
“Wait, why are we going to the parking lot?” You ask confused, but follow her nevertheless.
“Becauuuse, Raven let me borrow her car,” she waves the car keys and laughs a bit. “Come on!” Clarke yells excitedly.
“Raven let you borrow it?” You ask because you can’t believe that Raven would do that. The point is that Raven talks about her car almost as much as she:
- a) Talks about Finn;
- b) Calls everyone in her engineering class an idiot;
- c) Complains about her physics professor with Octavia.
“She did,” Clarke opens the door for you as she smiles. “Right after she made a few inappropriate jokes that I had to withstand, but all is good,” she says as she gets behind the wheel and starts up the engine.
“But it’s not really that far, Clarke,” you say as you put on the seatbelt. “We could’ve taken the bus.”
“I wanted to pick you up, I wanted a proper date with you,” Clarke says as she carefully drives out of the parking lot of your dorms.
You feel nervous and as you glance towards Clarke, you can see that she is as well. She keeps tapping her fingers on the wheel and looking at you every five seconds.
“I feel like I’m underdressed for a date,” you say as you stare at your lap. White sneakers, black skinny jeans and a simple black T-shirt. The evening was weirdly warm for an autumn one, but you don’t complain. You’re just glad you don’t need to dress up in three layers of clothing, at least not yet. Still, you would have dressed a bit differently had you known.
“No, you’re not. You look perfect,” Clarke says, staring at the road. You wonder if she understands what these words mean to you.
“You look… I can’t even find the right word for it,” you try. “You look stunning, Clarke.”
“Thank you,” Clarke turns her head and smiles at you. You lace your fingers together over the gearbox.
*****
The movie was great, you leave the theater chatting cheerfully, discussing the plot and the events of the movie. You talk about the characters, and as Clarke says she liked the tattoo of this one character, you remember something. You ask to see her tattoo, which she has mentioned before, but you have no idea where, nor what is it. Clarke smirks and just pushes her skirt a bit down, lifting her blouse up a touch, and your mouth flies agape for a second before you compose yourself. The tattoo on her hip is a small array of every planet in the solar system. It’s simple, but beautiful. As she starts explaining the meaning and when she got it, you smile at her story. She smiles back.
“But that was stupid, what he did there, wasn’t it?” You ask as you and Clarke slowly walk back to the car.
“Oh god, it was,” the blonde laughs. “Reminds me a bit of this thing I did way back when I was a freshman, though it’s not related to what he did in the movie.”
“Really?” You’re intrigued. “Do tell, Clarke,” you lightly nudge her with your elbow.
“Well,” she starts. “This one time, I wanted to send a paper plane to this guy I was briefly crushing on. I don’t really remember what I wrote exactly, something funny and not to the point I guess. I was in my literature class and when I threw it, the paper plane hit this girl, because apparently, my aim is terrible. So she read it and interpreted the message as something offensive, and after class, she threatened me. But Raven interfered and saved my ass. It appears she was an acquaintance of Raven or something. Raven saved me, and that’s how we became friends,” Clarke laughs, tears in her eyes.
“Our one and only, our lord and savior - Raven Reyes,” you laugh and your stomach starts hurting. “But that was kind of stupid, you never knew who you’d hit.”
“I know, right?” Clarke continues to laugh. “For some reason, I thought it would land gracefully on that guy’s desk and I’d look cool, but the paper plane hit that girl right in the head,” she giggles.
The both of you pause and stand on the sidewalk because you can’t stop laughing. Your stomach is hurting so much and your lungs are not getting enough oxygen. Clarke’s laugh echoes in your ears and your stomach flutters when you think how beautiful she is. Once you calm down, (after 5 minutes or so) you reach the car and stand quite awkwardly, not sure what to do. Clarke is weirdly awkward too, going silent as she starts smoothing her skirt, but then she looks at you, eyes full of determination of some sort.
“I’m going to do something stupid now,” she whispers as she takes a step forward, and you feel weak in the knees.
“It’s not stupid, Clarke,” you whisper against her soft lips.
Her kiss is tender and careful, she doesn’t push, but you are still somewhat caught off guard, so you don’t react right way. You’re afraid she will pull away, so you reciprocate because you want to, because you have nothing to lose, because she is everything you crave. You stand in a half-empty parking lot and she kisses you like there’s no tomorrow. Your brain shuts down because you can’t comprehend that this is happening. You never thought you wanted something like this so much. Clarke captivated you since the moment you first saw her. The moment the sun hit her hair and turned it into a golden crown. The moment she returned your forgotten notebook. Clarke turns her head a bit, adjusts the angle, her tongue tracing your bottom lip as you oblige and open your mouth. Her tongue slips in as she wraps her hands tightly around your waist, slipping them under the hem of your black T-shirt. You gently cup her warm cheek as your other hand finds its way on the small of her back.
You stand in a half-empty parking lot and realize that it’s easier to breathe.
*****
“I’m just worried that yesterday you kissed me back on reflex,” she says in the corridor as you walk her to her drawing class.
“I don’t kiss people I don’t want to kiss,” you reassure her, stopping to prove your point before fixing your white button up shirt. “I don’t kiss people if I don’t mean it. I’m not that kind of person,” you tell her.
“I really like you,” Clarke says and stares at the ground for a bit, then adjusts her loose white shirt. “I don’t want to ruin it, I really don’t.”
“You won’t. I’m sure of that,” you smile and Clarke looks at you, smiling as well when she takes your hand in hers. You notice Raven in the corridor, so you wave to her. She comes closer and hugs the both of you at once. Raven is in her signature red bomber jacket and there’s a smirk on her face.
“I see that the date went well,” Raven says as she looks at your intertwined hands. “I’m so proud of you two,” she pretends to wipe tears off of her face.
“Raven, you’re like the dad of the group,” Clarke says as the three of you make way to your classes.
“I do make all the dad jokes and always embarrass you, so that’s fair I guess,” Raven laughs.
You chat, saying that you’ll definitely have lunch tomorrow, the four of you together. You briefly talk some more about what’s been going on, before Raven says how proud she is that Clarke returned her car in one piece. To which Clarke protests by saying she is quite a good driver. You just laugh at their constant bickering. You walk a bit more before you stop in front of Clarke’s auditorium.
“Ok, I’m off to this boring as hell class. See you later?” She kisses your cheek and you nod weakly. Raven just curiously observes.
“What about me?” Raven pretends to frown as Clarke walks away.
“In your dreams, Reyes,” she shouts and then she’s gone the next second, closing the door.
“Well that was rude,” Raven laughs and turns to you. “So Lexa, tell me about the date,” she wiggles her eyebrows as she throws her hand around your shoulders, and you burst out laughing.
You try not to smile too much while talking about your date, but you overdo it and Raven just asks what happened and why you’re so grumpy.
*****
You don’t see Clarke until late in the evening. You’re just finishing your essay when there’s a knock on the door and Clarke storms right in. You don’t even manage to ask what’s wrong before Clarke grabs you and slams you against the wooden door she just closed, her lips latching onto yours. You feel intoxicated, drunk. There’s a hunger in her dilated pupils that you’ve never seen yet. Her hands find their way to your collar and start unbuttoning your shirt frantically.
“Clarke?” You ask her.
“I just, I just really want you,” She says. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and your skin, and how I want to make you scream my name.”
You feel fire in your lower stomach as you give in to the hunger, grabbing Clarke’s waist, pulling her closer, your hands slipping under the hem of her shirt, massaging the soft skin there. Her breath hitches.
“Lexa, your hands are cold,” Clarke complains as she undoes the last button and parts your shirt, taking in the sight in front of her. Clarke looks like a child who just unwrapped her Christmas present, her eyes are full of adoration and raw hunger.
“Get used to it,” you say as your hands travel higher and higher until they are on her breasts, your mouth sucking in Clarke’s lower lip. Clarke moans a bit.
“Oh I will,” she shudders and you return your hands to the hem of her shirt, discarding the material and throwing it somewhere on the floor. The desk lamp casts its pale light as you and Clarke try to shed your clothing.
Clarke pushes the shirt off of your shoulders, watching as it falls down with a soft thud. Her hands then tentatively travel to the button of your skinny jeans. She undoes the button with ease and then unzips your pants. Clarke leans down to pull them off of your long legs as you kick off your socks. You stand in the middle of the semi-dark room, clad only in your black bra and underwear, your skin exposed to the cool air of the room.
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Clarke says as she grabs your hips and guides you towards the bed, kissing you again. You fall into the bed with Clarke on top of you, her hips bracketing your thighs. Clarke gently caresses your cheek and then buries her other hand in your long, wild and wavy hair. You look at her pale skin and realize you need so much more, you want so much more.
“You’re overdressed, Clarke,” you say as you sit up and reach to unhook her dark blue bra, doing so in one swift motion and throwing it on the floor where the rest of your clothes are. She then gently grabs your shoulders and softly lays you down, pinning both of your hands on either side of your head gingerly.
“Patience, pretty girl,” she grazes your lips with hers, teasing you with her tongue. Clarke then unhooks your black bra as her mouth kisses the valley between your breasts. She expertly takes off your underwear and then sits back on her knees.
“I have never seen a girl more beautiful than you. I’m in awe,” she says quietly, but with so much passion. “You’re the most breathtaking person I ever laid my eyes upon.”
Clarke then unzips her own jeans as she strips the rest of her clothing completely. She lies down on top of you.
“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined,” you say as your hands hungrily touch the skin now available to you. Her hands are ghosting over every curve of your body, her lips kissing your skin and leaving a trail of fire in the process. Her slim and talented fingers find their way to where you need them most, making you inhale sharply.
Even with your eyes closed, you still see the stars.
*****
You wake up in the early hours of the day and realize it’s not even dawn yet. Clarke’s naked body is pressed up against your back, spooning you. Your muscles are deliciously sore as you recall just what you did a few hours ago. Your body shifts a bit and you feel Clarke possessively tighten her grip on your waist.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” She kisses your shoulder slowly and you smile.
“I randomly woke up,” you say as you shift again, turning to face Clarke, her eyes closed. “Let’s go back to sleep, Clarke,” you say groggily.
“Yeah,” Clarke yawns as her hand travels the length of your back and you burrow yourself into her warm body. “Who knew you’re such a bottom though.”
“Shut up, Clarke,” you groan and pretend to be angry while you wrap your arms around her.
“Easy there, babe,” she laughs and it is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep again.
*****
She kisses you every day at least once. She kisses you when you’re upset, when you’re happy. She kisses you no matter what just to show how much she needs you.
“Why are you doing this?” You ask one day as you both lie in bed naked, your back turned to Clarke, her head propped on her hand.
“Because I’m committed, because I accept you no matter what,” she whispers carefully in her husky voice. “There are so many reasons of why I’m doing this, but does it really matter?” She asks as she caresses your bicep.
“I guess not,” you say with your eyes closed, blissfully tired from what you and Clarke have been doing for the past few hours.
“This is beautiful,” Clarke traces the tattoo on your back.
“I got it on my 20th birthday. I wanted to get myself something that lasted.”
“Will you tell me what it means?” Clarke asks as you turn to her. “I want to know.”
“I will. One day,” you reach out and touch her face; she brings her lips closer to yours. “I promise, Clarke,” you whisper against her mouth.
You let her kiss you again; enjoying the feeling of her tender lips and gentle hands.
*****
Clarke. She’s good. She’s great. She knows what to say and how to say it. She’s brave, braver than you, and for once you are glad because your confidence has shattered a long time ago. It’s fast and at the same time, the pace is slow. It’s good because you both seem in no rush. You feel grateful. Everything is funny and cheesy and somewhat easygoing, but you don’t care, not really. She smiles and smirks, makes you laugh. She also touches you the way you need and makes you feel wanted. She gives you comfort and you tell her that everything will be alright. That’s how the both of you survive.
Things are by no means pretty, you’re difficult and stubborn, self-destructive and melancholic, but she gives you a chance and you take it, you don’t look back. She’s patient, she’s willing to take a gamble, and that’s what is pushing you forward. That is enough for you. It’s new, and it’s terrifying, but you try not to overthink it.
*****
Clarke’s in your room. She’s frantic, and all over the place while searching for her things, as you calmly drink coffee and review the material for the test you’ll have in a few hours.
“Where the fuck is my drawing stuff?” She mutters and you point to the chair besides you, where her bag with supplies lies.
“Thank you,” she smiles and takes the bag, opens it and checks if everything she needs is in there.
“You’re a bit distracted. Is everything ok?” You ask Clarke.
“Yeah, I’m good, just nervous. We’ll have to draw a model in class. I need to run or I’ll be late. Bye,” she says as goes through the door. She returns a second later only to grab her phone on the nightstand. “Sorry,” Clarke apologizes.
She disappears through the door again and you hear footsteps as she returns once more.
“Really? Again? What is it this time that you forgot?” You joke, but Clarke just places a soft kiss on your lips and smiles.
“You,” she says. “You look so beautiful, I wanted to kiss you,” the blonde whispers and then she’s gone the next second.
You sit by the dining table, frozen for a couple of minutes. She really is something, huh?