You fell from the sky onto my ground

Clarke had deliberately taken the road trip from California to New York.  She kept giving the same answers she had given to everyone who asked her why she was taking a nearly 2 day road trip to New York when she could perfectly avail the airways, I’m kinda stressed for my showcase and I think some open air will do good. She kept saying those words, as if trying to convince herself.

Yes, she was worried about her new paintings that were to be showcased in the renowned Trikru gallery. Who wouldn’t be? The Trikru Art Foundations had made a name for themselves for being the best, by becoming that platform for only those selected few artists who a commoner might never have even heard off. But when all the known artisans come to review your work, it’s not long to have your name in everyone’s mouth. So yes, Clarke had been nervous but excited too.

But undermining all, it was Bellamy’s proposal that was nagging her. They had been dating for nearly a year now, but when he went down to his knees, and held out a princess cut ring, Clarke was taken by surprise. She was. Bellamy had been everything she could hope for - a great friend , he took care of her, a confidante of sorts not to  forget he was O’s brother and they were also very physically compatible and since ever since his café-cum-bar “Grounders” opened, there had been no turning back. And above all, he loved her. And, yes she loved him too. And so she said yes.

Then why, was she hesitating? She kept drumming her fingers on the wheel and finally opened her phone and looked at the picture, she still had. The forest green eyes, the loose wavy hair falling lazily on her sun struck skin. The smiling girl’s arms were wrapped around Clarke whose eyes goofily stared back at her. Time had been frozen in that picture. Lexa. 3 years. It has been 3 years.

Her fingers dwindled on that delete button on the screen but Clarke couldn’t bare press it, something till date held her back. She shoved it back in her bag. She had reached New York late the previous night and tiredness was already creeping up her bones. She checked her into the Bellevue Hotel , took a quick shower, stripped of her clothing, hastily typed a text to each O and Ray, left a voicemail for Bell and her mom and crashed in her bed. And soon Clarke lulled in sleep that still echoed of green eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time and certainly not the last.

The June sun rays crept through the curtains of her room and fell on her. The sleepy eyes creaked open. It was 8 am and Clarke was supposed to meet Anya today for lunch. Looking down at her ring, she was wondering again. And honestly her head was aching from thinking. So she took out the ring and placed in safely inside the box and slid it in her purse. For now. She needed caffeine. Dressing in t-shirt and denim jeans, she headed out for a coffee wrapping the leopard print scarf around the neck.

 New York City was a concrete jungle were all dreams came true was indeed never sleeping. The roads were breezing with people already, mostly who were shagging up their coffees and running to work. Clarke was about to enter a small roadside café when one such guy run past her nearly toppling  her over, leaving a fresh drops of chocolate on her shirt. Better not be hate huh, Clarke scoffed trying to minimize the staining but to no avail. Clarke ordered her mooring poison and sat in an empty booth, and unknow-est she touched the place where once her ring was.  She didn’t know she was so lost in her train of thoughts, not until a hand jotted her out of it. 

“Clarke?,” said that ohh too familiar voice. Clarke might still have been in her haze of thoughts, when that voice talked again, “Clarke Griffin?”

Clarke then looked up to that owner of the said voice. A tall leggy brunette with doe eyes, smiling at her. That tall leggy brunette with doe eyes. Clarke remembered her far too vividly, and to she her so close for in here put of all places. Ain’t fate a bitch.  

Clarke must have shown no sign of recognition, so the brunette went to introduce herself, “You must not remember me, I’m……..”

“…Costia. I remember you well”, Clarke begrudged-ly finished for her. Yes, too well, for myliking.  Lexa’s Costia.

“Oh well, that’s good. I just thought , you know, since it’s been quite a while.”, Costia said smiling. “Mind if I seat?”

Clarke jotted again. Yes, a morning with Costia, that to soo early . What  good deeds has she done to deserve this., Clarke thought sarcastically.

But she knew how to draw up the perfect pretence of a smile, she done it too much already. Her eyes curiously eyed that Costia’s gold band , wrapped in her ring finger. So giving Costia , the Griffin signature smile, Clarke greeted her, “Yes, sorry. Where are my manners?. Please sit. So what would you like to have?”

“Oh no, I have already ordered”, Costia shook her head, “So, I didn’t know you were a New Yorker? Or are you simply visiting?”

Small talk, that Clarke can do. Yes. And Costia hadn’t don’t anything to her. It was her. Did she even know?  “Well, my showcase is going to be presented by the Trikru Gallery this week. There were some last minute details and stuff”

“The Trikru Gallery? Wow. Well I guess I should be taking your autograph now before you become the new sensation huh”, Costia stated sweetly. She herself was a pioneer of arts. She knew Clarke had always been good just didn’t know she was this good. Well, Lexa was right. She was glad.

Clarke actually smiled. It was small but she smiled. She asked her how she was doing. Costia put it out simply that, life’s been going good for her now, New York was always in a fast pace, her clinic was doing good and she was expecting soon. She was expecting soon? Soon ? What the bloody hell ? It might not be what she was thinking was it?  Clarke might actually need something stronger now, like a carton of whiskey perhaps?

“Expecting? Like baby,  babies expecting?”, Clarke stammered out. She just had to ask. Yes, ok, she might actually vomit. The question that had been burning in her, to know how Lexa was, maybe she missed her a little but no, she was had already moved on with her life. Without her.

“Yes, baby, not babies. We had applied to for adoption but the process per se is so lengthy and there are too many orphaned children these days…” Costia left that sentence, smiling happily.

They were happy. So happy. Clarke felt angry, ashamed. Its not like Lexa and she made promises that she was obligated to keep, it’s not like they were something. But they weren’t not nothing either. She must move on too. She had to.

For her sake. Her face was getting warm. She knew the moment she would get out of these shop, she’ll burst in tears, but she had to know one last thing. She had to ask.

“Is she happy? “

Costia appeared, to what seemed to Clarke, a bit confused.  She halted before replying, “Well if you are talking about Lexa yes, she’s definitely better than she was in the past.” Costia still sounded confused.

“Hey”, a voice said, as he leaned in to kiss her cheek “Here’s your green tea. Well, drink it then we’ll have to head out.” The dirty blonde guy then turned at Clarke who couldn’t believe what was happening. What is happening?  

“Oh yes, I forgot to introduce you both”, Costia said while sipping her tea, “ Clarke, this is Dylan Skylar, my partner. And Dylan, this is Clarke Griffin the soon-to-be art sensation.” Dylan held out his hand but Clarke feebly shook his hand asking , “Out of curiosity, how long have you been married?”

Costia could see that the blush creep on Dylan so she choose to answer for him.

“We aren’t married….yet at least.” As if on assurance, she slowly patted her hand on his.

 “Are you alright , Clarke?”, concerned Costia asked her.

“Yes, tired a bit. I’m going to go. Why don’t we talk later?”, Clarke suggested and as immediately Costia took hold of Clarke’s phone and saved her contact number in it.

“Ok, sure. We’ll definitely talk but are you sure you are alright? We can drop you off at your hotel”, Costia suggested and Dylan was already taking out his keys but Clarke reluctantly refused, “Its just a few blocks, I’ll be ok. Bye”. And they waved their byes.

Clarke barely reached her hotel room when the feeling of nausea made her run over to the bathroom., vomiting the contents out. She hadn’t eaten anything apart from the coffee and that bagel anyway. Nothing was making sense. No. No. Clarke stopped herself. She wouldn’t ruin herself again by thinking about her. Her head felt light and kicking of her shoes she snuggled inside the fluffy bed sheets. They were really soft and fluffy.

Clarke was walking from the grocery store. Two paper bags full and walking all the distance, that to under the blazing sun in July of California was giving her a migraine. Her car, why didn’t she drive yes, that is a  good question.

Her car was supposedly sitting in her garage due to a busted tire and broken glasses since last night someone thought it would be a good idea to go for a drive out in a drunken state. Raven has yet to suffer her wrath. And above all, when Clarke had woken up to a groveling stomach the fridge was empty. Well if you can count some millennium old yogurt and a bit frozen pizza ,as food! So Clarke had to walk.  

Clarke was barely struggling with her bags when something tickled down her leg.  Ok she was imagining things. She walked a few steps with something tickled, no, rather licked her leg. She glanced down and a massive bull dog with big chocolate eyes was staring back at her blue ones and wagging his tail. Clarke might just be a tad bit afraid of dogs, especially massive dogs with saliva dripping down their mouth.

“Shoo… go, boy. Go” coyly Clarke said but to know avail. It just sat and stared back. And then it happened.  She started to move, ok, sort of ran when the dog chased her and practically jumped over her making Clarke, fall on her butt, dispelling all her food and contents., “Jesus”, she exclaimed from pain and also the dog who was licking her face now. “Get off me….”

“Fluffy? Hey boy ,come here” came a voice from the distant. The dog immediately ran to the said person. Who happened to be a girl. A very beautiful girl. With  braided hair. In denim shorts. And a tee with “Hogwarts” embroidered  on it. Really? Hogwarts?

The girl, not once even glancing at Clarke, took up that monstrosity in her arms and asked, “You , ok, Fluffy?”. Really? Can she get more surreal?

Clarke had enough. She finally voiced herself and pointing to the spilled contents that were a total waste now and to the bruises on her arms, “You are seriously asking that bulldozer if he’s alright? He bulldozed me. And Fluffy? Really? I mean, Fluffy is not even a name and shouldn’t the name bear some sort of similarity to its owner?”,  all the while pointing to the dog.

Green eyes finally spoke, “Well aren’t you being narrow minded by judging the book by its cover?. And about the bruises, I think you’ll live.  Apply some anti-septic or should I have to buy you that too?” Clarke couldn’t  believe her ears.

“And those contents from where I can see they are not going to be a total waste…” and her eyes pointed out to the contents which were apparently being eaten up by “Fluffy”

Clarke raised her eyebrows at that. “yup, he can eat anything. I even fed him some rum once, he lived through it. God has gifted him with such a strong stomach, one , you and I could only dream off. Amen to that”, she simply shrugged her shoulders. Clarke had to turn about to contain her smile.

“So where to, Goldilocks?” the stranger asked Clarke. Clarke, turned around and waited. “your place or my place?” Clarke’s ear had the growing pink tint and she was about to question her intentions straightforwardly when , “I’m kidding.  Jesus. So grocery  store?”

When Clarke returned with her necessities, she noticed Green Eyes already chatting up with the blonde counter-girl who not-so-secretively passed her number to her. Lexa must have felt her staring when she glanced at her and then at her carts.

“Either you are trying to pinch a pocket in my hole or you are being obnoxiously generous today by feeding the whole neighborhood?”. Lexa questioned her, a smile tugging somewhere.

Clarke was again struggling with the packets and  Fluffy had apparently left Lexa’s side and was following Clarke around.  Lexa was walking ideally beside Clarke and Clarke couldn’t get more frustrated, would it kill her to take a packet?

“It looks like you need help carrying those”, Lexa said ideally.

“yes, it would seem so”, Clarke huffed. Each word said with extra pressure.

They walked a few steps more. Clarke’s hand were killing her. And it didn’t help when the other girl was making obnoxious faces at her.

Are your hands killing you , she would tease. Yes. Clarke would reply. Your house seems away, long distance to carry the bags, she would say. Yes. Clarke would reply. She would talk about the weather, how blue the sky seems, how hot it was, how Fluffy was being Fluffy but the distance didn’t shorten. They turned the corner and finally she saw her house. Good heavens.  She almost ran to the porch to lay off the weights. Thank God, she grumbled, stretching her arms.

“Hey Grumpy, hands dead or something?”, Lexa just loves toying with her.

“Well, yes, no thanks to you”, Clarke snapped back.

“Well, you could have simply asked for my help, oh with a please of course”, Lexa replied without any ounce malice. “I loved it when they say, “pleaseeeee” you know”. Lexa punctuated the last word too much, so much that Clarke slammed the door on her face on that day. And that was how Clarke Griffin met Lexa Woods.

Clarke’s eyes well on the alarm ringing from her phone. Oh, shit. She’s going to running late. She looked at herself in the mirror. She felt so tired.  Washing her face again, she dressed herself in  a tailored white blouse with a navy blue pencil skirt . Straightening  her hair , giving herself one final look , she headed out with her handbag.

The Trikru gallery was everything she had hoped for and more.  The collection of modern and contemporary art at the Gallery was noteworthy for exemplary works from the 20th century and the early years of the 21st century. Particular strengths that stood out was the outstanding collection of mid-20th-century American paintings. The clicking of heels on the porcelain floor echoed the empty room. There stood in the middle on the room dressed in absolute contrast to the white, Director Anya Trikru, or so Clarke presumed from the extremely poised way she stood in a short black dress with a blazer topping it. 

Not that Clarke knew it for sure, but word was it that Anya Trikru wasn’t even in the art business, it was in a way her secondary job but her desire to be the best in about everything had turned her into what she was today : A woman who deserved, no almost demanded respect. And Clarke respected her for that.

“Hello, you must Miss Griffin”, the voice said, “And you are late”. Yes, definitely Anya Trikru. She loved punctuality, apparently.

“Yes, I’m late by merely 5 minutes and you may call me Clarke”, Clarke held out her hand and the woman took it without a work, “Then you may call me Anya, Clarke Griffin. If you may follow me, we have some work to do.”

 And that work had apparently stretched for 6 hours straight. From the invitees to the placements of her paintings of space which she would be sharing without another proclaimed sculptor Aleixandre Montez to every other minute details. Anya was apparently nothing short of a perfectionist. And when Clarke whined about the time, Anya had glared her down.  But she was decent enough to let Clarke with her as it had been going on pretty late and when she glanced at her phone, she felt guilty. 4 voice-mails and 8 missed calls from Bellamy.

She walked to her hotel and soon enough she stripped down her dress to her pajamas and settled on the couch. She stared at her phone and scrolled down the contacts list. Costia. Clarke wondered if she should give her a call and thought otherwise. She needed sometime. Instead she found herself dialling Bellamy.

“Geez, who is it?”, he groggily answered his phone, probably didn’t even see the call id.

“Hey, it’s me”, Clarke answered into the phone.

“Clarke? Clarke, hey I called…….” But Clarke stopped him midway, “I’m sorry, Bell , I was just so tired and the gallery thing here needed some work out. It ended late, so I couldn’t call earlier”

“Yeah, that’s ok. So you….”

“…. Can I talk to you tomorrow, Bell? I’m hitting the bed.”,  Clarke was already yawning.

“Yeah sure. Love you, Princess”, he said sweetly, too sweetly.

“As I you. Bye.” And the call ended. Clarke was tired, but sleep wasn’t coming. The clock showed 1.04 am. So she wrapped the night gown around herself and walked out to the balcony. She gazed out at the Empire State and Chrysler buildings standing at what seemed like within arm’s reach. It was picturesque.

The city was brimming with life still, the night didn’t seem so bleak here as it did in California. It irradiated colors, lighting up the stark black sky.  It felt a bit chilly so Clarke clutched her night gown close to her as seated herself comfortable on the long arm chair.  She loved the way New York felt, she was a stranger here, but even midst strangers she felt at home. She again looked up to the city. Indeed it was insomniac. Insomniac.

“Insomniac”

Lexa, yes that green eyed Casanova actually had a name. She was called Lexa. But she preferred Hot Ass Lexie, since she had a hot ass or so her fan girls told her. Abby, Clarke’s  beloved mother had apparently invited their new neighbor Indra Woods to dinner  so that she would feel welcomed in  the neighborhood and Lexa, her niece came in with her as a package deal.

If one saw Indra Woods, then they would categorize her as the "strict, abide by the rules, stick up the ass" kind of a parent but in reality she was that but she was very delicate around Lexa. The small smiles, the warm touches and the stern looks, and that pat on the shoulder.  

Oh, how could she forget, so had Fluffy the monstrosity as Clarke beautifully called it. It’s a him, Griffin, Lexa would time and again correct her. Lexa had a journalism degree from NYU and presently she was working as a free-lanceror so she told her.

And also she had a nag for writing about places she has visited and the list was actually very long. Clarke soon learnt Lexa was a traveler, a dreamer, she was not a constant. Moving to and fro, but never static. And god, she was a storyteller. When Lexa would tell,  Clarke would listen in rapt attention as if she could see it right through her eyes, as if she was with her in that moment. 2 weeks. Clarke had known Lexa two weeks and she was growing on her like a mold on a plant. And so was Fluffy. Slowly. 

Every comment till date that she said made Clarke roll her eyes but she couldn’t help but smile either.

“Insomniac?”

“Yea, New York City is insomniac”, the way Lexa told her it was as if she was reminiscing her days, “It really is. One day, you should just sit in a balcony of a hotel room and look at the city. Not just look, feel it, you’ll know what I mean.”

Lexa and Clarke didn’t have anything better to do so they thought to have a movie night. And the movie turned out to be Cleopatra. Fluffy was already drooling on Clarke’s lap and apparently so was Lexa. Her one arm was wrapped over Clarke’s shoulder and her face was somewhat lost midst Clarke’s golden mane. Her breathing was soft and low on her neck and Clarke looked over the face. Lexa looked younger. Innocent. Dare she say, captivating.  Clarke switched off the TV and tired to move from her position, but to no avail.

Lexa and her mutt, did weigh a ton. No more animal crackers for either of them. Clarke decided to give it one final try, but this time Lexa simply hugged her closer, burrowing her face into her neck. Clarke didn’t see any further usage in trying so gave up and it wasn’t long before she got lulled into sleep in the growing warmth.

Clark would sometimes wonder where Lexa would disappear, no sign of her, nothing, just disappear as if she was never here.  Maybe she was out another one of her “lady gals” as Lexa so graciously put it so she never bothered asking Lexa where she had been, no matter how much she wanted to and Lexa never bothered telling her.

And sometimes she would often feel her staring at her, as if silently asking her to dare to ask her. But Clarke never did. It had been 2 days now and still no sign of Lexa. Clarke had gotten worried. Patience was failing her so she paved her way to Indra’s house.

“Is Lexa here?”, Clarke nearly barged in, looking around as if waiting for her to poof out from behind a furniture.  But Indra nodded her head in a no but she assured Clarke that she’ll come home soon. She gave her a sad smile, as if trying to convey unspoken thoughts.

It was nearing to 11pm when there was a knock on her window. More like as if someone was throwing small pebbles at it to get her attention. Clarke got up, she had a few guesses on who it would be at such hour and on opening the window pane she saw a goofily smiling Lexa.

Her green eyes were looking at her at a child like innocence . Lexa signalled her to come down. Clarke nodded her head in a negative. Lexa again signalled that if she didn’t come down, she would climb up. Clarke debated and there was a staring contest for 2 mins and then Lexa made a fish gape which made Clarke blink. Cheating, that was so Lexa.

“Well, I never did play fair,  Prisa”, Lexa whispered in her ears. And then led Clarke to her old Mercedes Benz.  She opened the door for Clarke, but Clarke just shut the door hard. “Easy there, Grumpy, it’s a classic”, delicately touching it as if it were wounded. Then, she again opened the door, gesturing Clarke to get in. Clarke again shut the door but delicately this time.

“Come on, Prisa, please” and thus Lexa again opened the door. Lexa had Clarke at Prisa, but the word please was a cherry on the top . And this time Clarke slid in.  20 mins, they had been in the car 20 mins but Clarke didn’t talk. Not a single time. No matter how much Lexa insisted . Finally feeling defeated,  Lexa asked her, “Am I forcing my company on you, Clarke?”. The engine stopped and Lexa repeated her question gently.

“No”, Clarke replied after a pause.

“ What did I do wrong?”, Lexa couldn’t understand her.

“You left. Without a word. I never ask you why you leave and you don’t even bother telling  but you could have least told me, I was worried. ”, was all Clarke said looking straight ahead.  Lexa remained silently at her seat, then, moved towards Clarke and forced her chin up to look at her. The blue eyes were glassy.

“It won’t happen again, Clarke. Next time onwards I’ll tell you.”, Lexa spoke with  finality in her voice and Clarke understood the sincerity behind them.  Lexa didn’t say where she was but she promised her and that was okay for Clarke for now.

“So where are we going?”, Clarke asked her for the nth time. It had been 35 mins and she was losing her patience, all the while fidgeting with Lexa’s braids. And like 35 mins ago, Lexa just shrugged her shoulders yet again.

It had not been another 4 mins when the car finally stopped in front of a bar. Bar? Really? As usual, Clarke gave her a questionly look raising her eyebrow.

“You know, I sometimes wonder what would happen if you eyebrow got stuck there?” Lexa teased almost in a whisper, gesturing Clarke to follow her. “And this, Prisa, is Somona’s best pub with killer cocktails amongst other things. And I thought, you should live a little and what better time than twilight.”

The pub cum bar might have been a bit deserted out on the front but the interior was screaming with people. Lexa and Clarke went to the bar to order but there were too many heads demanding their poison and far too short hands to hand them over. It had been 20 mins since they had been waiting but their drinks, let alone their pleas were falling in deaf ears.

“Well that’s a bum.”, Clarke grumbled out.  They stood far end towards the bar with no bartender in view, so adjusting her Bowler hat, Lexa jumped to the other side.

“What the heck are you doing, Lexa?”, Clarke angrily hushed out. Oh God, Lexa would sure kick us out.

“What? I thought you wanted a drink, miss?”, Lexa smirked feigning innocence and starting mixing drinks. Her hands flew literally, midst the strainer, muddler and the shakers, licking up the appropiate drinks and finally pouring it out for her. Clarke eyed it for a moment and said, “I didn’t know you were a bartender as well?”

“Well I can do a lot of pleasurable things with my hands, “ Lexa pointed out , a little red herself and Clarke nearly choked on her drink. “It’s a Boulevardier, by the way. “

Clarke took a slip and she must say, it was damn good. “ Hmm, that’s very good, Lex. Maybe you should go for bartendering instead. Wherever did you learn it?”

And their talking’s flew. Sometimes, Lexa would mix a few drinks for the customers who came without any charge, Ok, that was certainly not ok but no one noticed. Nonetheless, not for a moment,  she never took her eyes off Clarke.

Even when a apparently hot red-head asked or rather shamelessly offered Lexa a one-night thing all the while leaning over her, flashing her chest, Lexa had immediately refused, she said, she was already  someone’s company. The said redhead took a look at Clarke as if trying to break a hole in her skull before disappearing in the crowd. That was the first time Clarke noticed that Lexa never even looked at others when she was with her, she was just with her.

The clock was nearing to 2am and Lexa had yet to do the final thing to end the night.

“I don’t think the night’s complete without a dance, yes?”, Lexa words brushed over her eyes as she was pulled to the dance floor and yes, Clarke let her sway in the beats of the music with warm arms surrounding hers. It wasmt the same with Raven and Octavia. They were her besties but Lexa was someone, someone that she found special. Her. Only her. There were several instances when Lexa hands would travel down her body and Clarke would press into her, but neither minded. It was comfortable for them both.  Then her phone vibrated and the moment was lost.

“I’ll be right back” Lexa screamed over the loud music heading for the doors.  Clarke, herself needed to catch her own breathe and was about to leave someone roughly stopped her. It was apparently belonged to an absolute drunkard or so she thought.

“What’s  a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” and he words were apparently backed by another 2 or 3 men who nodded their heads as their eyes roamed all over her body. Clarke suddenly felt anger and a twinge of fear flash throug her. The little bit of tipsiness immediately vapoured out of Clarke and she struggled to get her hand free.

“You are not exactly the type of company I keep, boys” and saying that Clarke her hand to move away from them only to be stopped by another one, “Oh is that so now?”

“Yes, and if you can get out off my way” but her words fell to deaf ears. They were preying at her as if she was a deer caught in their headlights .

“When  a lady says no and that too so loud, I think, it means she had rejected you and whole self”, Lexa squeezed her way and wrapped her hands around her waist pulling her out.

“And what do we have here? Two beautiful women and that too dykes? Maybe you haven’t received the correct treatment, girls” and the first guy who apparently tugged at her, violently seized Lexa pulling her away from her.

So Clarke did the first thing she thought. Ok, she didn’t think, at all. Her right hand just went up and smashed the guy’s jaws with her utmost vigour. Pain instantly wormed up her hand and she shrieked but it wasn’t like the guy who’s scream rung through the walls. Her hands were smeared in red and Lexa rushed towards her, uttering the one word, she didn quite expect. “Run, Clarke”

And they did. It turns out that small town men doesn’t take it very kindly when a girl, yes, a girl punches them hard enough to break her nose adjourning a very black eye. So Lexa took Clarke’s left hand and ran, ran until they were away and safely in the confinements of the car. The engine rumbled into life and by the time, those guys had come out , they were already gone in the wind.

They didn’t stop until they reached a departmental store where Lexa had get a packet of frozen peas on Clarke’s very swollen hand.

“You really shouldn’t have done that”, Lexa finally said. Clarke gave her the eye, like Lexa shouldn’t even be asking that question. She would do that again in a heartbeat! Lexa simply stared at her. No words could convey their thoughts at that moment.

“Well, on the bright side, I know what will happen if I pissed off you”, Lexa nudged her softly on the elbow and Clarke laughed.

Clarke had been on the elliptical for quite some time now and when her legs finally gave up she took a break.  While washing up, she tried to massage the neck muscle, it might have accidentally been twinge due to the wrong alignment she had fallen asleep on the arm-chair the three nights ago. Yesterday, she had spent entirely within the four walls of her hotel room and the hotel gym.

And when she had tried to paint, it was the same pair of green eyes staring back at her. She stared at them , as if waiting for them to speak up, why were they torturing her so wordlessly. She huffed and puffed and fumed but still it did her no good.

She couldn’t wait until day after tomorrow. In two short days, finally her art would be showcased in the heart of the City of Love and Anya had been very certain that the turn out would be very appreciable so Clarke was waiting until tomorrow. Her another turning point of her life. Clarke didn’t know if she would ever come to New York again, at least not anytime soon in the future since all life, her work and family were in California, she couldn’t uproot her life just on a whim.

She didn’t find anything in New York yet that would wish her to stay anyway. Clarke hasn’t done much or rather any sightseeing in New York, but she thought she might as well give the much celebrated Central Park a tour. Dressing herself in a green sundress and with brown leggings and deep knee boots, Clarke placed her sketch book inside her bag and made way for the said destination.