Origamis

The get-together had brought to you some feeling of closeness with Lexa – closer than what it already was before, at least.

Now you call her every two days at the end of her shift to make sure she hasn’t almost killed herself on delivery. With one of her class being cancelled on Monday, she came with you to pick Aden up from childcare. Seeing her surrounded by that many kids was the cutest; she would crouch in front of a few crying ones, ruffle some hair and so on until Aden stole her entire attention. She walked back toward you while you were speaking with one of the childcare workers about Aden’s day with your toddler simply sitting on her shoulders. Aden was so happy being up there that he couldn’t stop looking all around himself.

The ding of a new person coming in takes you out of your reverie and you hope for it to be your coworker, the one that’s supposed to take over in three minutes, but sadly, nope, it’s just a few customers. You sigh but plaster your face with the customer service smile as they walk toward the counter and order some drinks. Tristan better have a fucking good excuse for not being here yet because you are going to be late to childcare if he doesn’t show up sometime soon, and this is not something you take lightly. You’re not someone to get easily upset - it takes a lot to get on your bad side - but making you late to pick your son up isn’t the smartest thing to do to you.

While preparing the drinks the customers just asked for, you don’t see your manager in the back-room replying to his phone and making a face before shrugging and letting it go. He hangs up his phone after a few more minutes of talking and turns his attention toward the counter where you just finished the last drink of your order. You politely bid goodbye to the customers when they leave, and that’s when your manager steps behind the counter.

“Clarke.”

You turn your head toward him and you feel it coming, the bad news. Tristan bailed (again) and you have to stay (again).

“I’m sorry, can you do some extra?”  

“Let me guess, Tristan is sick again?”

“I’m sorry,” he says again with a sigh, “I’m going to try to find someone to replace you as soon as possible.”

He’s about to go back in the backroom when you call after him, “I need to make a phone call.”

“You’re on the clock; you know you’re not allowed.”

“Sure,” you say with an almost groan, “but I have a son that needs to be picked up from childcare in one hour, not in three when I’ll finally be able to clock out.”

“Come on, you’re not going to stay that long.”

You give him a look, as if to ask him if he wants to bet, and he suddenly seems nervous. “Fine, take a fifteen-minute break.” 

He takes the counter as you walk your way to the back room. God, freaking asshole. Tristan is going to hear from you as soon as you see his face again. You quickly get to your phone, open your texting application, and open a group conversation with Monty, Raven, and Octavia. You ponder the thought for a second, but as you need as much help as you can get, you end up adding Lexa and Murphy into it too.

Usually, your go-to people when you need someone to get Aden from the child-care are the three formers. You trust them more than anyone, as they’ve always showed support and proved themselves as helpful allies whenever you needed something. But on a Thursday afternoon, Octavia might be at work and your two favorite nerds might be in class.

Murphy and Lexa could be in class too, now that you think about it, but you know your mom is working right now, so that’s the best you got. (And no matter how much of an asshole Murphy is, he would totally bail class to get Aden for you, as long as he can brag about it to Bellamy afterward).

[17:08]       To : Aden’s baby-sitters

                    Subject : guys, help, quick

Monty is the first one to reply, as always, and he understands the matter without you having to explain, but he’s not free at the moment: he has an exam in twenty-two minutes, tops. Then it’s Raven’s turn: she has the same exam, as it’s a class they took together. Well, that’s definitely not good for you.

You’re about to type a new message telling them not to worry and that you’ll figure something out when your phone starts buzzing in your hand and Lexa’s ID shows up on your screen as an incoming call. You pick up with a swipe on your screen and her voice is full of worry when she asks you if you’re okay.

“I’m trapped at work and have no one to pick Aden up. If no one comes to pick him up at six, they’re going to call child services on me, and I’m in mild panic because neither Monty nor Raven are free and Octavia’s not replying so she’s probably working and – “

“Clarke, stop.”

You immediately do so, her voice somehow soothing you. You can picture her calm and composed form on the other end of the line while you’re just being a mess right now. But hey, you can’t blame yourself for that. You’re not getting child services called on you and being accused of abandoning your own son because Tristan is a big enough asshole to not show up to work.

“You’re going to call the childcare center and tell them that Alexandria Woods will pick Aden up today. I will have my ID with me as proof of my identity. And if I don’t die on my way, I should be there before six.”

“I’ll text you the address of my coffee shop. Just bring him here when you have him?”

“Of course. I’ll text you when I get there.”

“Thank you, Lexa, really, you’re –“

“You’ll thank me when I got him, okay? See you in a few.”

And with that, Lexa ends the call. That doesn’t really surprise you, Lexa isn’t one for ‘thank you’s and such. She’s an action kind of woman. She probably was checking the route to the childcare center from wherever she was while on the phone with you. You make a quick call to the childcare center, relieved when Maya is the who picks up the phone – Maya is a sweetheart, which is not the case for everyone working there, and sometimes the director can be a little… bitchy. An ice cold bitch, if you’re being honest, but thank god, Maya is the best. She’s sweet and Aden’s favorite childcare worker and she understands your situation and tries to make it as bearable as she can for you.

Just like right now, as you explain her the troubles you’re in at work and how you won’t be the one to pick Aden up today. She senses the worry in your voice and softly tells you that it’s okay. She’s the one who closes up today, which means that even if your baby-sitter is late, she won’t call child protective services on you. Thank god for Maya. You end the phone call after numerous ‘thank you’s and plenty of apologies and take a look at your watch. You have one minute to straighten yourself up and go back to the counter. You shake your head and repeat to yourself that everything is going to be fine. You can definitely trust Lexa on that one. You shot her a quick text with the address of the coffee shop before you finally walk back to the counter, glancing toward your manager.

He gives you a tight smile and moves from the cashier to let you take your post, and you plaster your perfect customer smile on your face once more and take the next order in line.

You’re so going to kill Tristan next time he shows up.

You just remembered why you usually don’t ride your bike in rush hour.

People drive like assholes.

You’ve been biking for the last ten minutes and you already almost got run over by a car three times at least. Rush hours are the worst. Sure, you totally understand the fact that people just got off work and want to go home; you also suppose that some of them, like Clarke, have to get their children back from childcare or school. But is that enough reason to forget your turning signal? Is that enough reason for running a red light?  Nope.

Driving laws exist for a reason, and not paying attention to them just because you’re in a hurry is the best way to have an accident and end up being late – if you don’t end up being dead, that is. And all the people driving on the bike/bus roads are going to drive you crazy. And you can’t even go on the sidewalk to avoid being hit by a car because, one, it’s illegal and, two, there’s way too many pedestrians at this time of the day and you’d be losing time. Time that you don’t have. 

Praying to whomever gods might be out there, you stand up on your pedals and speed up. Maybe if you go faster than them, they won’t be able to crash into you. You take a look at your phone screen, your GPS on display on your forearm, and notice the next turn you need to make. The street is right next to you, and you curse under your breath, sit back on your saddle, and make a sharp turn by slipping your rear wheel on the concrete. The sound coming from it is not really of your liking, so you know you will need to check that out as soon as you can, but you don’t stop. You’re standing back up on your pedals as soon as your turn is over, speeding up again.

The things you’d do for Clarke. And for Aden.

Seriously, you’ve known those two for something like four months and you’re already taking more risks for them on the road than you do during your deliveries – and your deliveries pay your bills, so that’s saying a lot. You don’t even know how this happened, but it’s been even worse since the get-together at Octavia’s.

A few weeks back, you and Clarke would be texting – a lot, yes, but only texting. Phone calls would only happen if necessary, which wasn’t often. But now? Now Clarke calls you like three or four times a week, and she knows when you work so that she doesn’t call you during your shifts. She calls you after Aden falls asleep around ten or eleven, and you two just share stories about your days. It feels oddly domestic and so normal that you tend to forget how much you usually hate phone calls.

You like them.

You like Clarke and Aden.

You have a massive crush on Clarke and you adore her son.

How fucked are you?

Your rear wheel screeches on the concrete when you reach the childcare center and you’re fast to lock your bike to the nearest lamp post before jogging your way into the building. Most of the kids are gone by now, the clock almost reaching the six mark, and you’re so glad you’re in time you allow yourself a sigh of relief when the door closes behind you.

Out of memory from when you came on Monday, you take your shoes off and put on the slippers the childcare center sets out for visitors. You leave your backpack at the entrance too and walk over to the main room. You also send a quick text to Clarke to let her know you arrived.

The childcare is quite big, big enough to have something like a hundred children in it. With all the doors, you guess there are a lot of a rooms that you don’t know of, but Aden, being almost three years old, is in the big section. At this hour though, you guess all the remaining kids are brought together for more facilities. That’s why you enter the main room; it’s the central one, with a lot of toys and books and mattresses and even a slide in the back of the room.

Aden is here with one of the childcare workers. She’s reading him and another kid a story. They are the last two of the day, and the blonde one still hasn’t noticed you. You walk slowly toward him and catch a few words of the story. It’s about a young knight that becomes friends with a young dragon. Aden is digging it, that much you can tell, as he’s not even blinking so that he can see all the images of the book.

When you reach the corner of the room they are sitting in, you crouch next to him and wait for the story to be over before getting his attention. The book is finished after a minute or so, and you put your hand on Aden’s head, cradling his hair like you have taken the habit of doing. It takes a few seconds for him to notice the contact, still entranced by the story he just heard, but when he finally does, he’s quick to stand on his feet and he jumps on you. Everything happens in a split second, so it takes you aback and you fall on your ass, Aden with his tiny arms around your neck as he hugs you tightly. You hug back, one arm around his back, and after a few seconds, he lifts his head from your shoulder to look behind you. He then looks back at you and asks, “Where’s mommy?”

“She’s at work. Someone didn’t show up so she had to stay.”

He makes a face, a sad one with a heavy pout, and his eyes get blurry very fast.

“Hey there, hey there,” you coo at him as you put a hand on his cheek, “we’re going to join her at work. She’s waiting for us.”

“She didn’t forgot me?” he says with a really tiny voice that almost breaks your heart.

“Like she could ever forget you, little one. She’s waiting for us. We have to go real fast, okay?”

He nods his head with a smile and you take him off you so that you can stand up. You turn to the childcare worker who serves you a warm smile. She then tells you about his day, how he enjoyed the garden earlier during the day, played with small cars, and ate well. He did wake up during night time with tears in his eyes, probably due to a nightmare, but he didn’t say much about it. He went back to sleep after being calmed down by one of the other workers.

You note everything in the back of your mind so that you will be able to tell all that to Clarke as soon as you join her, and then the worker explains to you what you have to do now before bringing Aden back outside. He needs to dress up, his shoes and coat being in the far corridor of the building.

Maya, if you heard Aden well, stands up with the last kid, Ontari, a brunette that is probably Aden’s age, and you propose the two a race to the corridor in question as you talk with Maya.

“Does he have nightmares often?” you ask and she shakes a no.

“Not that much, but you know, two years or so is the age of nightmares. Wolf or monster and such - they scare themselves when they play and sometimes it shows up while they sleep.”

You hum in agreement as you see Ontari winning the race, reaching the door of the corridor a second before Aden. He doesn’t seem upset about it, as he makes face at her and she replies with equally funny grimaces.

“Aden talks a lot about you,” Maya says then. “He even brought the rocket ship you made him to childcare once or twice. I think he really likes you.”

“I hope so,” you say as you reach the two kids and put a hand on both their heads. Ontari makes a face and gets away from you to go hide behind Maya, and you raise your hand in apology to her before going for the doorknob.

“Alright little one, let’s get dressed.”

It doesn’t take more than five minutes to dress Aden up and change his slippers to his shoes. When he’s all set up, you stand back up and gather everything that needs to be brought back home, like his little bag in which in you can see diapers and some cookies if he ever gets hungry. You cross back to the main room to reach the entrance, and Aden says goodbye excitedly to Ontari and Maya before running toward you to the door. You put your shoes back on, grab your backpack, and pry the door open. “Let’s go see mommy.”

You didn’t really give much thought as to how Lexa was going to handle Aden and her bike. Lexa doesn’t know shit about the public transports in town, so you’re pretty sure she took her bike to go to the childcare, and now that you think about it, how the fuck is she going to carry Aden and her bike? 

She texted you about twenty minutes ago, just a fast mono word text that said “here,” and nothing else since then. You’re really worried about the logistics of the situation she’s probably in right now. Sure, Lexa is nothing if not resourceful, but if you can’t even handle a walking Aden and his stroller, how will Lexa handle a walking Aden and her bike? The stroller holds itself up on its own - her bike doesn’t.

A new customer comes in, and you recognize him as being one of the regular patrons; you greet him with a smile when he announces his order, and you don’t even bother with telling the price as he knows it perfectly but just go over to the coffee machine to prepare his drink. When you turn around to hand it to him as he hands you the money he owns you, you notice a very tall human form outside of the windows on the right of the shop. You turn your head to look better as soon as your customer is gone from the counter and walking over to find a table, and well, it looks like Lexa actually found a way to carry both the bike and Aden at the same time.

Your blonde boy is up on Lexa’s shoulders as she struggles a bit to lock her bike up on the lamp post on the side of the coffee shop with just one hand. She always keeps one on Aden’s knee, always making sure that he’s steady on her shoulders as she moves around. When she’s finally done, you can practically hear her sigh of relief and you see her taking a U-turn to get to the door of the shop. Aden’s head goes down when she tells him to watch for the door, so that he doesn’t knock his head on the door frame, and then she pushes the door open, eliciting the usual ding that usually pisses you off so much.

For once, you’re happy to hear it.

“Mommy!” Aden all but shouts as soon as he sees you.

You kind of feel bad for the noise he makes on behalf of the customers that are still here, but honestly? You’ve been on the clock since nine this morning and it’s already half past six and you don’t care. You’ve been working for way more than what you were supposed to and you really, really want to piss off your manager.

He’s still perched up on Lexa’s shoulders as the dark haired woman walks toward the counter. “Clarke,” she smiles at you, “can you help us?”

You’ve seen Lexa take Aden off her shoulders quite easily a few days back, so you raise a brow at her before she turns her back on you. “I had to carry the bike and him and, well, better safe than sorry.”

Lexa made a knot. With her braids. Behind Aden’s back to secure him.

Lexa made a knot with her braids to make sure your son wouldn’t fall off her shoulders at any given moment.

What have you done to deserve such a perfect person in your life?

Lexa is so caring and soft with Aden, so easily here whenever you need her and she has only known you for four months. It’s surprising to realize how important she is to you after just four little months of being in your life – you’ve developed the biggest crush you’ve ever had on anyone in those four little months, and it’s getting worse after each day that passes, but you can’t even bring yourself to care. When you see Lexa like this – with your toddler on her shoulders, Aden all smiles and bright eyes – you believe you two were meant to meet.

Lexa was meant to be in your life. And according to the way he adores her, Aden probably agrees.

You lift both your hands to get your finger to undo the knots Lexa made behind Aden’s back. It takes a few seconds of fidgeting with her hair before you finally free the four or so braids she used to secure your boy. When you’re done, your hands go to Aden’s armpits and you slowly ease him off Lexa shoulders and right into your arms, not really caring about being behind the counter. “Hey, love.”

“Mommy!” he exclaims once more before snuggling up against you, head on your shoulder and face hidden in your neck.

You look over at Lexa as you soothe Aden’s back with your free hand, the other one holding him against you, and mouth her a ‘thank you’ that she simply shrugs off. You turn your attention back to Aden and drop a kiss to the top of his head before making him break the hug. “How was your day today?” you ask him.

“Fun!” he replies and starts telling you all the things he has done and how he didn’t win the race against Ontari because she’s really fast. You smile at him, listening to everything, and add that maybe next time, he might win against her. He smiles happily at that and nods his head, saying that he’ll try to run the fastest he can. You drop a kiss on his cheek this time before the ding of a new customer coming in takes you aback and you almost sigh.

“Hey, little one,” Lexa says as she steps closer to the counter, “let’s go get a table, and I’ll show you something.”

She lifts her arms in his direction, but his grip on your neck gets tighter and his face goes to your neck again.

“Hey, buddy,” you say as you put a hand on his head for him to look at you, “it’s okay. You’re going to play a little with Lexa and once I’m done with work, we’ll play together, okay?”

“When?” he asks with a pout, and your hand goes to his cheek. Before you can even reply, though, the person you thought was a customer turns out to be your colleague, Harper, and dear god finally.

“Right about now,” says Harper with a sweet voice. “Clarke, get away from my counter.”

“Hell yes,” you reply. “Aden, go with Lexa and I’ll be with you in a few minutes, okay?”

Lexa lifts her arms once again, and this time he opens his toward her as she takes him against her hips, one arm secure around his back. “Wave to mommy. She’ll be back before you even notice she’s gone.”

He listens to her and waves at you, and you smile fondly at the sight of your little boy in your crush’s arms. Sometimes, you wonder who you sold your soul to to deserve those two.

Harper comes behind the counter and orders – an actual order that takes him so aback he actually listens – your manager to take the counter so that you two can go to the changing rooms. Once the door is locked behind you, your literally rip your working shirt off your body and throw it in your locker.

“Sorry I couldn’t come earlier, exams just started and things are kind of crazy in my schedule,” Harper says with a sorry smile and you raise a brow at her.

“Are you kidding? You’re my savior. I thought I was going to be trapped for three more hours.”

“Wait, when did you start?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrug, “at nine this morning.”

“Alright, I’m calling Zoé. We’re staking Tirstan first thing in the morning.”

“Wait, who’ll take over when you two are in jail and he’s dead?”

Harper gives it some thought before making a face. “Fair enough. But maybe they’ll hire new people.”

“Please,” you scoff, “we both know that’s never going to happen.”

Sadly, she nods as she buttons up her working shirt. “So that was your boy?”

A smile immediately plasters your face at the mention of Aden and you nod your head. You close your locker and start organizing your backpack.

“I must say, he’s cuter in real life than in pictures. But that’s maybe because you suck at taking pictures.”

You send a glare her way but you can’t help the playful smile on your lips. Harper is your favorite co-worker. She’s nice and hardworking – Zoé is too, but Zoé is kind of scary sometimes, and with Tristan being an asshole, it’s not really hard for Harper to be your number one.

“Who was with him? One of his god moms?”

“Oh, thank god no. Believe me, when you meet them, you’ll know. Octavia would be teaching Aden how to fight and Raven would be trying to blow up the shop.” You sigh because that’s so true, and you wonder how you ended with those two sometimes – you love them so much though. They’re the best, just a little bit too weird for anyone’s good.

“It was Lexa.” You pause for a second, but you feel the need to ad that she’s ‘a friend.’ Harper narrows her eyes at you for a second before nodding.

“Yeah, totally a friend,” she says sarcastically and you shove her away with your shoulder when you walk next to her to exit the room. She follows suit, all ready to clock in as you go to clock out.

You finally step out of the counter after what feels like an eternity when Harper gets her shift started. “Can you make me a latte, a cappuccino, and serve me a glass of milk, please?” you ask her and she nods. You chatter with Harper just a little more as she prepares your drink, and you would have been able to stay focused if it wasn’t for the paper plane that just landed in your hair. You hear Aden giggle on the side of the shop and look toward the table where he’s seated with Lexa. The brunette looks at you with her best innocent impersonation while Aden keeps giggling. You glare at them as you take the plane out of your hair and throw it back in their general direction. You’re not as good as them at throwing it because it just crashes a few meters from you, far from them, and Lexa throws a playful smile at you, at which you stick your tongue out.

“Totally friend, huh?” Harper says as she displays three full cups on a tray on the counter.

“Shut up. How much?”

“Just get away from my counter, Clarke. Go see your son and your friend.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah yeah. By the way, I’m opening tomorrow, so like, take your time.”

“Okay, now I love you.”

“Don’t I know it.” She smiles at you and you wave her goodbye with one hand while the other holds the tray. You walk to the table and put the tray on it before sitting next to Aden, in front of Lexa, who had made a few paper planes for him to play with.

He’s a tiny ball of excitement and you’re so entranced by what he’s telling you – the first plane is like a plane people take but the second one is a really fast plane that can travel the whole world faster than anything else – that it takes a few minutes to notice how fucking perfect Lexa is. She made him take his coat off and opened his light jacket so that he wouldn’t be too hot while inside.

She thinks of everything, always. And smiles softly at you when you push the latte cup in her direction. Pushing the planes to the side, you put Aden’s milk cup in front of him and Lexa stands up, going to the counter before coming back after a second, a straw in hand.

See?

Thinks of everything, just freaking perfect.

While explaining to Aden that he has to be careful with his cup, you extend one of your legs under the table. While your eyes never leave your boy as he takes the straw in his mouth, your foot finds Lexa’s. You’re afraid she might take hers away at the contact, but after a few seconds, you realize that she will not. Her foot against yours under the table is as steady as she is in your life. It actually softly knocks against yours once in a while as the three of you chatter together, just a reminder that she’s here.

She’s here.

She’s here, and deep down inside, you know that she’s not going anywhere.

She’s here and for the first time in a while, you’re not afraid. Lexa is here and she is not running away.

You’re in a hurry. In a fucking hurry because it’s already half past seven and Aden goes to bed around eight and you have to make it in time. Maybe she’ll put him in bed a bit later than usual since they only went home about fifteen minutes ago and she still needs to bathe him and stuff, but still, you have to be freaking quick or else, it won’t do.

You walked Aden and Clarke home after you guys shared a drink at the coffee shop. You talked for a while and you made extra paper planes for Aden to throw at home. He has enough paper planes to fill the Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport, but he was so cute while asking again and again for a new one that you truly couldn’t say no – you wonder if you could ever say no to that one. He has his mother’s eyes, and the pout he makes when he’s sad is so heartbreaking it could melt the North Pole.

That’s all you’re thinking about while on your bike on your way to an old friend’s shop on the Far East of town. Well, old friend doesn’t quite cover it. Gustus has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember, but that’s more because he and his biker gang used to visit the orphanage when you were a child. They would come in, all big and scary as hell, and sit down with the kids, read them stories, play house and dolls for as long as the kid wanted. And when Anya reached the age of sixteen and left the orphanage, they took her in and she became one of them. She’s still an honorary member at the moment, but Gustus made her go to college when she turned twenty because she had capabilities, and sure, it’s great to be a biker, but he wanted her to see every turn her life could take before she made a final choice. Five years later, Anya graduated with a degree in art history, and she has been working in a gallery for the past year. She still visits Gustus and the rest of the gang quite often, whenever she has enough time to do so, and Gustus visits the gallery she works at whenever a new exposition happens.

Gustus is family; he’s the uncle you never had.

Gustus also happens to own his own shop in town and keeps it open sometimes when he’s not on the road. It’s not really a shop; it’s more of a counter he stands behind all day with things made of metal and string and wood and pretty much everything he and his people can find. It’s pretty cool. You remember how your eyes would light up whenever Gustus would bring things to you and the kids at the orphanage when they were visiting with the gang. You particularly remember the dream catchers he brought once, one for each room so that the kids would sleep well. You need one for Aden.

Now, let’s be honest, you’re twenty-two, you don’t really believe it works like you did when you were eight. But kids like Aden? They believe in magic. With the right words and the right amount of persuasion, he will believe it works too. And he kind of needs one, because while talking with Clarke earlier today, you told her about Aden’s nightmare at naptime and she told you that he has had a few in past nights too, waking up crying around two or three in the morning. A dream catcher could do him some good.

Your rear wheel screeches when you reach the counter, and you stop right in front of it with a sigh of relief. It’s still open – well, Gustus is cleaning and packing so that he can close soon, but it’s you so you know he won’t be mad.

“Hey,” you say as you get down from your bike and put it against the wall of the counter. When the heavy bearded guy lifts his head to see you, his face lights up and he stands from his stool only to knock his head on the ceiling and groan. He sits back right away, a hand on his head, and you smile when you ask him if he’s okay – you know for certain that pretty much nothing can actually hurt this guy. He’s probably made of steel or something.

“Lexa,” he replies with a smile, still rubbing his head. “Yeah, I’m good. I just really need to find someone smaller to hold the shop.”

You smile at that because he probably knocks his head on a daily basis, and yet, he’s still here. And whatever he says, you know he would never give the shop to anyone else.

“What are you doing here this late?” he asks then with a raised brow.

“Do you still have dream catchers?”

Gustus’s brow goes higher on his forehead, almost disappearing behind the fuzzy hair on his forehead, but he nods nonetheless and turns on his stool, reaching down and moving a few boxes on the floor before finding the one he needs. Then he turns back to you and opens the box on the counter you’re resting your arms on.

“Any color you’d like?”

You give it some thought, pondering what might be Aden’s favorite color. You remember his room at Octavia’s. “Blue or purple. Or both.”

The tall guy nods, reaching inside the box and moving a few of the dream catchers on top before he finds one that suits the color you asked for. It’s a simple one, not as intricate as the green one you can see on top of the others in the box.

This one is actually perfect. Just one circle to which three blue feathers are attached, and inside the circle, purple strings cross each other in the middle and draw an intricate pattern, similar to a mandala. Perfect.

“How much is it?”

He raises a new brow at you, as if to ask you if you’re serious, and yes, you are, so you take your wallet out of your pocket and start opening it.

“Lexa, put that down right now.”

“No,” you reply without even batting an eyelash, and you take a ten-dollar bill out of your wallet.

“Alexandria Woods.”

That stops you in your tracks because no one calls you that, and you lift your eyes to the guy. “Indra is going to murder me if I tell her that you paid for it, so just take it and leave so that I can close.”

You grumble a few curse words under your breath before taking the dream catcher that Gustus enveloped in some craft papers and putting it inside of your backpack, safely inside of one of your heavy books so that it won’t deteriorate on your way to Clarke’s.

“You’re lucky I’m in a hurry. Say hi to everyone for me.”

He nods his head with a smile and tells you to leave, and you smile back at him before getting back on your bike. Alright, now you had to go back to Clarke’s place, preferably before a quarter past eight. You wave one last time at Gustus, who waves back, before making a U-turn with your bike and leaving. As soon as you can get down from the sidewalk and get on the actual road, you stand up on your pedals and speed up. Now to hope you can make it on time, because Clarke kind of lives at least twenty minutes away from here, and it’s already getting late.

Time to be on time and to not die on the road.

When you put PJs on Aden, you have this habit of sitting on the floor, legs crossed, with your boy usually sitting on your legs. He sits here like he’s on a throne, back straight and hands on your knees as if they were arm chairs. He sits like a king, and that’s seriously the cutest thing ever.

Oh, and he’s ticklish. He’s ticklish as hell, so whenever he tries to escape – like, just now, he’s only wearing socks and a diaper and he’s trying to get something under his bed – you trap him against you with one of your arms and tickle him until he asks for a truce.

It takes a few minutes of laughter today, but eventually he gives in and sits back on your legs so that you can help him put his pull on. It takes some more time to dress him completely – especially because you almost die of laughter when Aden tells you to “stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” you asked, because you weren’t doing anything in particular. He’s used to you putting his slippers on his feet, so that probably wasn’t it. But then he said “breathing” and it took you aback for a second. You realized after laughing for a few minutes that he was talking about puffing air on his ear because it was tickling him, but your son just told you to stop breathing, and honestly, toddlers are fantastic.

Once he’s all ready, dressed up for bedtime, you tell him that he can play for a bit, just long enough so you can clean everything from dinner and bath time before you put him in bed. He complains a bit, but you shrug it off, reminding him that bedtime is bedtime and that if he’s too tired tomorrow, he won’t be able to play with his friends at childcare. That seems to convince him enough – that or the fact that the Captain America doll Monty bought him a few weeks back that he just found had made him forget about being mad at you.

Cleaning is easy. You didn’t really cook, just heated some leftovers from yesterday for Aden, so you just have one plate to rinse in the kitchen. Then there’s the bathroom, where you have to hang to dry Aden’s bathrobe along with his towel.

Once everything is hung and cleaned and all the useless lights are off, you go to Aden’s bedroom.

“Teeth brushing, love.”

Aden groans but puts his doll down nonetheless and follows you to the bathroom. He has a footboard he stands on so that he’s high enough to reach the sink. You get his toothbrush ready while he makes faces at himself in the mirror above the sink. You hand him his toothbrush and remind him to brush his molars as well as he brushes his incisors. For three minutes, he brushes and brushes again all of his tiny teeth before spitting and rinsing his mouth with a cup of water. 

“Bed now,” you say as you lift him in your arms to carry him to his bedroom and put him in his bed. You lay him down first before taking his slippers off his feet and putting them on the floor. Then, when you’re about to put him under the covers, you hear a knock on your door. Which is weird considering the hour.

“Did you hear that?” you ask him, and he nods.

“Maybe it’s a thief!” he says, and you smile.

“Thieves don’t knock, love.”

The knock happens again, and you sigh. You grab the first thing you can find – the Captain America doll he was playing with earlier – and hand it to him. “Stay in bed. I’ll be quick.”

He doesn’t even nod as he starts playing, and you stand up from your spot on the floor and walk toward your front door. When you open the door, slowly because you’re kind of worried of who that might be and you’d rather be surprised slowly, you see an almost cloud of messy black curls and raise a brow. You open the door wide and look at the newcomer. “Lexa?”

She’s fidgeting with a small paper bag, and that makes your brow rise even higher on your forehead.

“Sorry,” she replies. “I know it’s late, but – here.”

She hands you the bag, and you’re even more skeptical now. You open it anyway, and Lexa starts talking again. “It’s a dreamcatcher. I know two to four years old is the age of nightmares and stuff, but it’s also the age of magic so… with the right amount of convincing, he’ll believe in it and his nightmares should decrease. At least, it worked for me.”

Now that you have the dreamcatcher in your hands and have looked at it for a few seconds, you lift your eyes and look at Lexa. She is her usual self, calm and steady, her voice unwavering, but you can see it in her eyes: she’s a least slightly embarrassed. That brings a smile to your face.

“Come in,” you say softly and hand her the dreamcatcher. “You’re doing the convincing.”

That makes her smile, and you move away from the door so that she can come in. She does and discharges her bag and shoes at the entrance, along with her jacket which she puts down on a chair in the living room. You motion for her to follow as soon as she’s comfortable, and you two go to Aden’s bedroom.

“Love,” you say when you enter the room and he looks at you, “look who’s here.”

Lexa enters the room right behind you, and Aden’s face lights up when he sees her. He opens his mouth to say her name, but a yawn escapes his lips instead. “Lexa,” he says once he’s done, and she smiles at him before dropping on her knees next to his bed.

It’s hard for you not to melt while watching the scene that follows. Lexa is showing the dreamcatcher to Aden, but instead of explaining him what it is, she tells him a story. A story about a young knight: he’s very brave during the day, fighting dragons and thieves and all kind of evil that may show up. But when the night comes, when he tries to sleep at night, he fears. He can’t bring his sword to bed, and there might be monsters under his bed or in his drawer. How bad would that be, if he couldn’t protect himself from the monsters? The young knight could never sleep well. But in the town he was living at, there was a magician who said he could cure everything. The young knight went to visit him and told him about his troubles. The magician gave it some thought and then went looking into his shop. Eventually, he found something that could help the knight sleep better: a dreamcatcher.

“A dreamcatcher no different than this one,” Lexa says as she points at the one Aden is holding in his tiny hands. “The magician told him to hang it beside his bed: the dreamcatcher will protect him at night. He would have nothing to fear.

“The young knight was skeptical, but really needed a good night sleep. So he took the dreamcatcher and went back home with it. When bedtime came, he put on his PJs, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. He took his slippers off and lay in bed, the dreamcatcher in hand. He looked at it for a few seconds before hanging it on the nearest wall…”

Thanks to the pin you had the presence of mind to give her while she was telling her story, Lexa helps Aden. Together, they hang the dreamcatcher on the wall near Aden’s head so that he can see it even while he lies down.

“Then,” Lexa says as she helps Aden back down on his bed and covers him with the covers, “his mommy came to kiss him goodnight.”

You understand what she tries to say and walk toward them, bowing down over Aden’s bed. His eyelids are already heavy with sleep, but he raises his arms for you to hug him anyway, so you do so. The hug lingers for a few seconds before he lets go, and you drop a kiss on his forehead, wishing him a good night and reminding him that you love him.

“Surrounded by his mommy’s love, all of his stuffed animals, and with his favorite pacifier in his mouth, the young knight started to fall asleep. Thanks to the dreamcatcher hanging on the wall, he knew he had nothing to fear. Because the dreamcatcher would be keeping him safe during the night…”

Aden is asleep by the end of her sentence, his tiny lion plush resting on his chest. You and Lexa stay in the room for a few more minutes so that he can drift deeper into sleep before you move out of the room. Two small lights are still on, one on a stool not far from his bed and another one coming from your room – he sleeps with the door open and it reassures him to see light coming out of your bedroom, the door of which faces his directly.

After five minutes and with Aden breathing evenly, you tap Lexa’s shoulder and nod toward the door when she looks at you. She nods and stands up silently from the floor. You glance one last time toward the sleeping form that is your son at the moment and smile fondly at the sight before you follow Lexa out of the room.

“How did you come up with this?” you ask her once you two are back in the living room, out of Aden’s ears’ reach – one sound could be enough to wake him up, so your voice is barely above a whisper.

“I just… did,” she shrugs, “I kind of expected you to kick me out after I gave you the dreamcatcher, because it’s late and everything, so I had to come up with something.”

“Well that was impressive. I think I should tell that to Murphy so that he can come up with this kind of story for kids.”

That makes her smile. “If he wants dreamcatchers, I know of a place.”

It’s your turn to smile, and she looks at her watch and her wrist before she sighs, “I should go. It’s getting late, and you’re working tomorrow.”

You nod your approval of that, but something sinks in your stomach when you walk her to the door and watch her retrieve her bag and put her shoes back on. Something that has been here for a while, now that you think about it, but you never had the courage to do anything about it. You like Lexa. You really do. And Lexa is here and taking care of you as much as she takes care of Aden.

Lexa is here.

And she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

Lexa is here.

Except that she’s at your door right now, about to leave to go back to her place when she could, actually, be staying.

The door is open when you call after her, just when she’s about to go out, one foot inside and the other out on your doormat. The brunette turns her head in your direction with risen brow, as if to ask you if everything is okay. And you want to say that, yes, everything is okay. It’s even more than okay since she stepped into your life, but the words are caught in your throat. You can’t find anything to say. So instead, you take a step forward, cup Lexa’s cheek with your hand and kiss her.

You kiss her.

You kiss her and after the first seconds of surprise, she kisses you back. She’s soft against your lips and tastes like an endless spring day where everything is green and the flowers are blooming and – seriously Clarke, how fucking deep are you?

One of her hand gets to your neck while the other rests on your hip, and when you pull back slightly, you swear you can hear her whimper. You drop a peck, and then another one, on her mouth. “You sure you have to go?”

“No,” she mumbles against your lips as she softly pushes you backward. “I was just being polite.”

“Screw that,” you reply as you kiss her again. You can feel her smile against your mouth as she closes the door behind her, both of you still very inside. You then help her out of her backpack, and you two stumble into the living room while still kissing.

And that is how the most intense make-out session you ever had in your entire life started.

It ends with you straddling her on your couch, in the middle of the living room, biting at her lower lip lightly.

“We should have done that sooner,” you say before you drop a peck on her mouth, and she smiles. Her hand gets to your face and she pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in the process.

“Definitely,” she says as she leans in and kisses you again.

Her lips are sweet and soft, and she kisses you slowly yet deeply. Her hands are calloused and her thumb is steady on your cheek, her other fingers brushing some baby hair on the base of your neck. God, you can feel hardship behind those palms, time and time of work. All the days she spent taking care of kids at the orphanage, all the hours she spends biking for work. This woman who is twenty-two and who has been living enough for two already, this woman who is so sweet and soft toward you and your son, this woman who is so lovely and caring, is kissing you right now and you can’t help but whimper when she nips at your lower lip. You grant her the access right away, and when her tongue meets yours, you swear you can see stars as thousands of butterflies get free in your stomach.  

You’re about to deepens the kiss when you here a distinct knock on your door, and you groan against Lexa’s mouth. Seriously? Now of all time?

“Are you expecting anyone?” the brunette asks as she leans back.

“No one that I’m aware of.” You sigh when the knock strikes again and stand from your position on Lexa’s laps to go get the door. Your friend is right behind you when you open the door, because it’s late, almost ten, and only god knows who could be knocking at your door at that hour.

Raven appears behind the door, and you open it wide to take a proper look at her. “Rae, you look like hell. What the fuck?”

She does. She looks like she hasn’t sleep in two days and/or has been crying for three hours, which is weird.

“Geez, Griff, again with the sweet words.”

The Latina spots Lexa in the corner of the door when she walks to come in and stops right in her tracks.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have come.”

“Raven, get your ass in my house,” you tell her before she can actually turn and leave without a word. She looks at Lexa, who moves to give her enough space to come in, and walks in after a few seconds of awkwardly standing in the corridor. When you close the door behind her, you turn your attention back to Lexa who gives you a soft smile. “I should go.”

“Sorry,” you tell her, and she shakes a ‘no,’ still smiling. She gathers her stuff, her backpack from the floor, and retrieves her phone and strap from inside of it before putting it on her back.

“Text me when you get home?” you ask, and she makes a face as she looks at her phone.

“I’ll text you when I’m at Anya. She seems to be having an existential crisis; I need to go check on her.”

You make a face too, because Anya doesn’t seem like the kind of person to have existential crises. She’s stoic and fierce and seems to be the kind of woman that is strong enough to destroy any kind of wall life could put in her way. Weird.

“Okay,” you say then, and Lexa lifts her eyes toward you once her phone is in its strap around her arm. You lock eyes for a few seconds, forgetting about everything surrounding you. But then Raven groans, “God, just kiss the damn girl already,” before leaving the living room for the kitchen. That makes both you and Lexa chuckle, especially when the brunette mentions for only you two to hear that you already did that. But nonetheless, Lexa takes a few steps in your direction and drops a fast kiss on your lips. “If I don’t text you in twenty-five minutes, assume I’m dead.”

“You need to stop talking about your death.”

“Your mom is the one who always brings it up.”

“You two need to stop talking about your death.”

Lexa smiles before kissing you again. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

And she does. She turns on her heels and goes for your door. When she opens it, she looks one last time behind her shoulder, throwing a smile your way before she steps out and closes the door behind her back.

You retrieve your phone from the living room’s table before going to the kitchen where Raven is pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Care to tell me why you look like you’re about to die?”

“Please tell me you and Lexa were making out.”

“That’s beside the point, Raven.” she groans as she takes a sip of her drink and you sigh. “Yes we were, but still not the point.”

“So you two are getting somewhere, right?”

“Uh, I guess? We didn’t really talk.”

The brunette groans again, and just as you’re about to ask her why she’s here again – spying on your love life at ten on a Thursday night is sure as hell classic Raven, but she actually looks exhausted, so – your phone buzzes in your hand. 

You take a look at your screen and can’t help the smile that blossoms on your face at the sight of Lexa’s name. You open the text she just sent you with a simple push on the right part of your screen, and when you can finally read the few words she wrote (probably while walking down the stairs of your building), your smile gets even wilder.

“Yes, Raven, Lexa and I are getting somewhere.”

“Ugh, finally.”

“But you still look like hell.”

“Fuck you.” 

“She’d be doing just that if it wasn’t for you. Care to tell me why you look like a truck ran you over?”

She knows you don’t mean it, that it’s not an accusation or anything, but she apologizes anyway – and okay, that’s weird. You’re in for a long night.

You put your phone on the kitchen table, screen still showing Lexa’s text. It’s a simple sentence, but right now, it almost means the world to you:

[10:08] From: Lexa

             Subject: Just so we’re clear: I’m pretty serious about this.