Clarke sat cross-legged on the bed, cleaning the commander’s wounds delicately. Lexa had slayed the prince of Azgeda, but her hand was badly cut up. It was the first time Clarke had seen her bleed, and she wouldn’t have realized this fact if it wasn’t for Lexa’s unique blood. She hadn’t mentioned it to Lexa, mainly because that wasn’t her main focus (Lexa was just almost killed), but now that everything had calmed down, Clarke decided to breach the subject.
“Lexa,” Clarke muttered, rinsing off the rag in the bucket now filled with pitch-black water.
“Yes, Clarke?” Lexa looked up at her with her big green eyes, filled with love and gratefulness that the sky girl was talking to her again.
“Your blood,” Clarke started. “I don’t understand.”
“Its color?” Lexa clarified.
“Yes.”
“I am a nightblood,” Lexa explained. “Do you know about our traditions regarding nightbloods?”
“No,” Clarke looked up at her, now finishing wrapping her hand in gauze. “Tell me.”
“When a child from trikru is born, they are tested for black blood,” she began. “It is rare. Only great warriors are gifted with it.”
“What happens to those babies?” Clarke asked.
“They are sent to Polis to be raised by mentors instead of parents,” Lexa explained. “We are all raised together. We begin combat training as soon as we can walk,” she gazed out the window. “When you reach a certain age, you are ready for your conclave.”
“What is that?”
“It is a test of your physical, mental, and emotional capabilities. It is an extremely painful experience, almost no one passes. Few survive. Those who survive go on to become leaders,” Lexa looked back at Clarke. “And those who pass,” she gestured towards herself, “are next in line to take on the spirit of Heda after the previous commander dies.”
“I didn’t know,” Clarke half-smiled, looking at Lexa with great respect. “We just never had anyone with black blood on the ark.”
Despite black blood being known as superior her entire life, Lexa suddenly felt self-conscious about her own. “Does it frighten you?”
“A little bit,” Clarke replied honestly. “From a medical perspective. Do people with black blood live as long?”
Lexa tilted her head to the side, confused by the question. “Most of us die before we reach adulthood, Clarke.”
“I know,” Clarke shook her head, realizing commanders have such a short lifespan anyways due to constant threats, regardless of their blood. “Never mind.”
“I am sorry if my blood makes you uncomfortable,” Lexa frowned.
“No, that’s not it at all,” Clarke rubbed her arm to assure her. “Actually, I think it’s kind of badass.”
“You do?” Lexa’s face hinted at a smile.
“Yeah,” Clarke smiled, scooting closer. “It makes you special.”
Lexa’s eyes flickered to Clarke’s lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde. She leaned in closer, ever so slightly, enough to feel Lexa’s breath on her face. Lexa did not lean in, partly from disbelief this was happening, partly from not wanting to make Clarke uncomfortable (she never wanted to cause her any negative emotion again). Clarke leaned in further, almost close enough for their noses to touch. Lexa’s heart began racing faster, her eyes glued on the sky girl’s lips, before she couldn’t take it anymore, closing the gap herself, kissing her gently, cautiously pulling back to make sure this is what she really wanted.
“Clarke,” she whispered against the other girl’s lips. “Is this okay?”
Clarke responded by kissing her again, this time cupping her face with her hand, kissing her harder, but still slowly, savoring the taste of the lips she hadn’t felt in months. She let herself give into the pleasure for a few seconds before hesitating and pulling back.
Lexa opened her eyes slowly. “Clarke, I--” she started, not knowing where to finish.
“Lexa,” Clarke started, looking at the ground, hesitating, rubbing her neck with her hand. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“What idea is that?” Lexa’s heart dropped.
“I can’t get my heart broken again,” Clarke admitted, looking up at Lexa. “What happened last time, it broke me.”
Lexa’s face contorted sadly, ever so slightly, that if you looked away for a second, you would have missed it. “Clarke,” she breathed, regret lacing her voice. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know you are,” Clarke swallowed. “I want to trust you, Lexa. I do. I just need time. I guess I just wanted you to know,” she sighed, looking down. “I just wanted you to know that I still care.”
“I will not let you down again, Clarke,” Lexa promised, grabbing her hand. “I care about you too. It may be weakness, this is true, but,” she cupped Clarke’s face, redirecting her eyes to her own, “maybe I’m weak.”