Friday
11:45am
You wake to the smell of pancakes and the growling sound rumbling through your stomach. It's too early, you immediately think as you clench your eyes shut tighter. Whatever the time is, it's too early. You didn't really believe that jet lag was a thing until last night when you paced through the apartment trying to tire yourself out, but the restlessness didn't go away. Not until 5 am this morning when you were finally able to lay down without the feeling of your body being lit up with fire - yeah, you're not good with feeling restless.
Lincoln and Octavia filled you in on the plans for the day, which more or less concluded a dinner later tonight. Before that, you were free to do whatever. Octavia had already gotten her dress, Lincoln's tuxedo was hung on the door of the wardrobe in the bedroom and since your dress fit it's hanging in the guest bedroom.
Some part of you can't really understand that you're back here, so soon.
It's been months, weeks spent over Skype and texting, just like it was before New Year's. Still, it feels like no time has passed. It's exhausting in itself to feel like that.
(When it comes down to it, you get this feeling because they haven't changed. They are still the people you lean on when it gets to you. They haven't changed even a little bit.)
(And if it wasn't their weekend, if they weren't the ones getting married, you would never have boarded that flight.)
After trying to find fall back to sleep, only to end up twisting and turning every few minutes, you get dressed. The smell is stronger the closer you get to the door and when you open it, it hits you like a wave. You slumber out of the guest room with a mouth-watering and eyes almost completely glued together with sleep. You swear quietly when you take a wrong step and knock into the corner of the couch, at least it's your right knee, unfortunately, it's your right knee and your no good with balancing on your bad ones.
Lincoln turns at the disapproving sound the couch makes at your body falling over it for a second there.
"Good morning, how's the jet lag?", he asks and turns back to the stove, his elbow moving now and then indicates that he's still cooking something.
"How did you- who I'm a kidding of course you know. Did I make too much noise?", you answer as you walk up to the kitchen table. Your hand grasps the back of the closest chair as you yawn long enough for your lungs to begin to scream for air, however, they quiet down when you inhale slowly. You stable yourself on the left leg as you hold yourself up by the back of the chair and massages your right knee trying to get rid of the dull pain.
"No, don't worry. Your eyes are bloodshot and you have huge bags under them", Lincoln's voice is calm and low like he knows better than to use any more volume than you can take in this state.
He's clever like that.
You stand back on both legs, biting down on that little groan that lingers on your tongue when a new pain shoots through your left leg. Sitting still for as long as you did yesterday on the plane is the worst thing you could ever do to your mobility.
"Oh thank you. Way to make girl feel beautiful", you mumble tiredly as your other hand reaches up to rub the sleep out of your eyes as best it can.
"You're always beautiful, bloodshot eyes and all".
You hum back at him. Compliments don't really take when you feel like your head is about to explode, that is if it has time for it or if your body will combust into flames first.
"Getting nervous yet?", you ask and he turns around. His hands are covered with flour and the same stains could be found on both his shirt and pants.
"I don't have anything to be nervous about. I'm getting married, not joining the army or something", he says with a shrug with his shoulders.
"What's the difference? There's still a lifetime of service". Lincoln narrows his eyes with a far from amused look. "Kidding", you add with a cute little smile. He shakes his head and rubs his hands together in an attempt to get rid of some of that flour. It only results in clouds of flour washing off his hands. “What's with this rush anyway”. His eyes look up at you from his hands, but you're too tired to read them or even give it a try. Only, giving no answer is an answer as well. Lincoln is a man of words and not that many people can leave him speechless or tongue-tied. Yet, he says nothing now. Which either means that he has an answer in mind but doesn't think you'd like to hear it, or, he's playing with you.
You hope on the second.
(But you can't help yourself to think a little further.)
“Don't tell me… Lincoln?”, you ask with a serious tone and he looks up again, surprise in his eyes shaded by confusion, both of which are probably caused by that tone.
When he gets the actual question in your voice he's eyes widen. “God no! Are you kidding me? I wouldn´t”, he says and you breathe out what feels like the same volume of air you breathe in a year.
“Thank god!”.
He follows that up with words you'd like he kept to himself.
“We're protected”.
You look at him. He looks back at you, lips trembling trying to contain a very big and silly grin. You shake your head slowly and he bursts into low laughter.
“Okay, too much information”, you reply and he gets his hands up in the air, like telling you that he's done with his games. Still, there's an answer somewhere in him and you haven't gotten one yet. “But seriously, why don't you just wait until she's done with college and like know what you both want. I don't say that you won't want this then too, but things change. People change”.
He exhales with a whole other smile on his lips - the one he wears around Octavia. “I already know what I want. She does too”, he answers. “Some things you just know”.
(It's the best answer and the worst because you understand what he means. Completely.)
“Yeah, unfortunately”, you agree with a whisper.
Your hand is uneasy as your nails dig into the wood of the chair.
Though, you don't get that much time to think of that before another voice reaches the two of you.
“Hey, you´re up”.
“Sure am”, you answer and without warning, she pulls you into a warm embrace. You lean back against her chest and sigh quietly at the feeling. “For now, at least”.
“It´s better than nothing”, Lincoln replies and you feel Octavia nod against your shoulder.
“What are you doing today?”, you ask. She lets go of you, trails around your body to then jump up on the countertop next to the stove. She breaks off the corner of the newly fried pancake and flicks the piece into her mouth.
“Brunch with Bell”. You smack yourself on the side of your head lightly, bringing a little smile to the other girl's lips. Of course, she was going out with Bellamy, she told you that last night in between the guest-list and the schedule for the big day.
“Okay, what are we doing today then?”, you ask and turn your eyes to Lincoln. You catch the smile on his lips before his eyes find you.
One that wasn't directed at you.
“I reserved the couch just for you”.
You eye him for a moment, only for your body to almost collapse over itself in contentment and you lean almost fully on the chair. “I love you”, you exhale and Octavia´s laughter fills the kitchen.
He shrugs his shoulders as he turns his eyes back to the stove. “I thought you needed some peace and quiet”.
“Well, you're also in charge of preparing for tonight”, Octavia cuts in and you jerk your hand up to your forehead to salute her.
“Yes sir”.
She laughs at your stupidity and jumps down from the countertop. “Idiot”, she says with a shake of her head, but she's still wearing a cute smile as she leans up on her toes to kiss Lincoln briefly on the lips. “Bye, call me if there´s something”. Lincoln nods and receives another kiss.
“Bye, babe”, your teas with a wink and give her your cheek. She places a messy kiss on your cheek before squeezing your shoulder.
“Don´t have too much fun without me”, she tells you and you scoff. Lincoln´s back to shaking his head, probably at the two of you, with a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Not possible”, you yell back to her as she walks through the door. When the door sure is closed and you can no longer hear her steps through the hall outside the door, you give Lincoln a serious look. One he doesn't turn his head around to see. “You are one lucky guy”, you tell him and you think it's the fifth time since you got here yesterday that those words have left your tongue.
“I know”, he replies with the biggest grin ever as he flips the pancake cooking in the pan. It´s perfectly golden brown. Cooked to perfection and your stomach agrees with you because it growls once again.
“Oh shut up and give me some of those”, you demand as you grab your plate.
--
1:29pm
K. Wick (1:05pm): Raven. We are getting ready to install the new system in the club. I do not want to push you, but I will need an answer at the end of next week
You drop your phone with a sigh and let it fall to land somewhere in between the cushions of the couch. You didn't need a reminder, at all. It's not like you walk around all day, every day, thinking about it in the back of your head, evaluating every choice, weighing pros against cons, over and over again. No, it´s not like that at all. Just, it is. Since Wick made that offer to you and practically served you a permanent way out, you haven't thought of anything else. In the beginning, you told yourself that you just needed one more day, just twenty-four hours and then you´d give him an answer. Well, that one day turned into a week and without knowing it you stood at the gate, ready to board the flight.
Time hasn´t been on your side lately.
Lincoln nudges your knee with his foot. “What are you thinking about?”.
He´s been watching you since you picked up your phone, you´ve felt his eyes on you, the big surprise is that he managed to keep his mouth shut for this long. You exhale heavily and sink even deeper down into the couch, leaning your head into your hand as it's propped up on the armrest.
“I don't know, Linc. So don't ask me”, you tell him.
Instead of listening to you, he turns in his seat to face you, eyes fixed at your face. He´s stubborn, almost as bad as you.
“Well, what are you thinking”, he asks and draws a sigh from you.
“I'm thinking that it´s a great opportunity and that I´ll probably never get one of these more than once”.
“Okay”. A couple of seconds go by and you think for a moment that he´s let it go. You're wrong. Suddenly the TV goes black and you look from it to him in confusion, his hand is still gripping the remote when your eyes find it. You take the hint and turn to face him too. Guess you win the one, you think as you position yourself so that you can lean your head in the other hand instead. Another set of seconds pass and you´re just waiting, while he´s watching you, searching your eyes for something you know for a fact that he won´t find. You´ve tried to find it yourself, but your reflection gives nothing away. “Why haven't you given him your answer?”, he finally asks.
You wonder how many time one can sigh before they automatically turn into a right arse.
“You know why”.
His brows furrow in that annoying ‘I'm not giving in’ kind of way. “I'm not sure I do”.
“You´re the one who made me reconsider getting back into college”, you bite back with a little bit of anger to the tone.
He does know. He does know because he was the one who made sure that that thought never left your mind, even though it was hurting you. And you let him because deep within yourself you know that you can't let go just like that.
“That's because I wanted you to stay grounded”, he replies with a mature voice.
“Stay grounded? When have I ever not been grounded?”, you ask and he shakes his head at your reaction. You'll blame this on the lack of sleep later. You can already hear the words leaving your lips and see the way Lincoln caves in a little, but it's all just a front, to then tell you that it´s okay, that it will all be okay.
(He doesn't know of the nightmares. Or the other dreams that keep you up at night.)
After a deep breath, held with your hands covering your face, you breathe out and let the anger follow it. He´s not the one to blame. Nothing is his fault. It´s all you. As usual.
“I don't know yet and until I do, I can't give Wick an answer”.
“Let me ask you this”. You nod, maybe more to yourself than in reply to him. When your eyes find their way up to meet his, his are filled with love, the kind that makes your stomach sink deeper and your heart thumps even hard as if it's trying to remind you that you are in fact not lost, you are still here. With him. He leans in and places a warm hand on your right knee, you feel it sending warmth through your body when he squeezes his fingers, his big hand on your small knee. “What's stopping you from doing it? You love working with him. London is a great city. You´ve made a lot of friends and obviously, those people have done something to you, because you´re a lot better now than what you were when you left”, he says and you nod after every statement. He´s right, he's so right it's ridiculous. From another perspective, you probably look thick or straight-up idiotic for dragging out this decision. Maybe you're both, yet, no, you´re really not.
It´s just hard.
You remember the time when you were eight and your mother asked you to choose - either going to your grandfather´s or Disneyland. Every other kid had probably made the decision on the spot, going with the one they'd never get to do again. You´ve never been like anyone else, not even as a stubborn eight-year-old. Definitely not. Your grandfather lived on a farm, one of those that had horses and farm animals running around, he was a farmer in his heart and soul.
(Which explains why your father dragged you out with him into the wild, even though you were born and raised in the city, he tried his best to rub off some of that enthusiasm for nature on you.)
(He never was as happy in the city as he was back home at that farm.)
You loved that place, but what you loved even more about it than the animals and the place itself was the people. Your grandfather had taught himself how to play the guitar and together with some old friends he had started a band back in his teenage years, they never did anything with the music or even got the slightest of acknowledgement for it. Still, throughout the years they stuck together and once now and then they used to get together and jam. That was the reason why it made it such a hard decision. You wanted nothing more than to go to Disneyland, but spending an hour with your grandfather and his old buddies, surrounded by that music and passion, that was worth much more than the temporary joy you'd get after a few rides on a roller coaster.
(When your grandfather passed away, it was the first time you felt real sorrow, but his music never died - it still lives in you and every time you use what he taught you about the passion you see it.)
(Your father used to say that talent skips a generation and you got all of grandfather's good traits.)
It's harder this time. Not only because it's not about a day, now you have to think of and the future. Not because you're older and whatever you choose will possibly change your life, forever. It's harder. That's all. And you don't have the right, or even the wrong, words to describe why.
"O and I will still be here, no matter what, you know", Lincoln says and you nod again. There's that question in the silence that follows and your eyes find Lincoln's.
(You know why it feels harder, but you can't admit it without risking breaking down all over again.)
“I don't know”, you whisper and it's Lincoln's turn to sigh.
Then he moves from his corner of the couch to sit next to you and his arm is soon around your shoulders, your head fall to his shoulder, and the TV is back on.
--
7:30pm
Monty got you in a headlock, at least he's clutching to your neck as if he's scared that you'll disappear right into thin air if he lets go. You let him have his moment because you're having one too and you're not up to showing the tears building up in your eyes. As long as he holds you like this you can hide your face in the crook of his neck and you can deal with that. He smells like something lost and found, something you didn't know you had missed this much until his arms were around your neck and yours around his waist. He smells like Monty, like letting go after finals, like herbs and musk. He smells like home.
"Okay, move over it's my turn", Jasper huffs impatiently and Monty steps back with a tender smile on his lips. His eyes are glassy too. As you turn around Jasper flings himself at you and pulls you into his embrace.
He smells just as much as home.
"You clingers", you murmur.
"Shut up", the two of them answer and you giggle a little as you snuggle into Jasper's neck.
There's something special about being around the people that used to be all of your life. They are still a part of your life, but there´s a difference between seeing each other once every three days and once every year. Yeah, you were back over New Year's, but you didn´t leave Lincoln´s apartment apart from that time you went out to get some Aspirins for Octavia´s headache. So you haven't seen them since June last year. That's scaring you. It was so easy for you to pack up your things and leave. You didn´t look back for a second. All you wanted, needed, was to get away and you left all of your friends unknowing of your plans and where you were going. You didn´t look back. That's who you are - you leave when you feel like it, without looking back.
After sending off Jasper and Monty to get some music going, they should feel really fucking privileged for that, you set the table. It's the least you can do after Lincoln spent three hours getting dinner ready.
Like a thunder rumbling through the sky a voice reaches you and it's filled with hatred.
“The prodigal daughter returns, or have they changed self-centred bitch yet”.
You had stopped in your motion at the first word, but when he quiets you put down the fork on the table next to the plate. The rest of the forks hand rattle in your other hand.
“Guess I deserved that”, you reply without turning around, tasting bitter on your tongue.
He scoffs at your answer. “You have no idea what you deserve”.
You breathe out and put down the rest of the cutlery without bothering to set the rest of the table. When you turn around you find his brown, deep eyes and they reflect the same hatred you heard in his voice.
“What have I ever done to you?”.
The wicked expression on his face is worse than you've ever seen and you've seen some madness this last year. God knows you've seen some of it in the mirror too.
“You broke up me and my girlfriend to start with”.
“I had nothing to do with that”, you answer and shrug your shoulders. Finn scoffs once again, only this time you've had enough of his attitude and straight-up bullshit. “For fucks sake. We all have battles scars, Finn. Suck it up and build a brace for yours", you tell him and push off the table. Your knuckles flash white and your jaws are set with tension.
"And that's coming from the girl who took off, just like that". You don´t know what to say to that. The sensible thing would be to just walk away, but Finn cuts in before you can do anything at all. "Oh don't tell me that was you building a brace".
You watch him walk away and when he stops next to Monty in front of the stereo you leave as well. That guy can drive you nuts, has had that ability since the first time you met. You find Lincoln standing in the kitchen, doing something to a bowl of salad that looks suspiciously much like dressing it. Guess you're not eating any vegetables tonight - you hate vinegar.
"Remind me again why you're friends with that idiot", you exhale frustratingly as you scope out a piece of cucumber before he blends it with the rest of the salad.
"We're not, but he's friends with Jasper so we couldn't get rid of him", Octavia answers as she steps into your periphery and bumps your hip with her own before leaning into Lincoln.
"Have I told you I love you", you ask and the smile filling up Octavia's lips is enough to brighten up the whole room and the world with it.
"Not today, no".
"I love you, Octavia Blake, soon to be Mrs Moore", you say and blow her a kiss.
"That's right", Lincoln murmurs with glowing eyes and places a kiss on Octavia's head.
If love was a picture, this would be it - Lincoln and Octavia in each other's embraces, holding on so soft and gentle with arms, hard and long with eyes.
(This is the moment you´ll forget as quickly as you promised to always remember it.)
"What are we talking about?", a very familiar and long lost memory of a voice interrupts all of you in that sacred moment as she joins you.
She steps into your view, eyes bright and blue, curls long and blonde, lips firmly tighten into a hard smile. When those blue wonders travel around slowly to fall on you, her lips fall into a sad expression. It draws the breath out of your lungs. She is striking. It's been months and months, moons after moons, yet her eyes are still the same colour as the ones that have been haunting your dreams. She looks the same and she is beautiful.
Absolutely breathtaking.
It almost feels like they are spinning around each other, like two sides of a coin, yet everything is still. You are unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to not look at her. The tug at your chest had been something small, bearable, for months now, until this moment. She looks like a goddess - too good to be true. A living and breathing image painted by Michelangelo himself.
A feeling of warmth hits you, right there, in the chest, over your heart. It spreads, quickly, throughout your body, fills it with more warmth. That kind of grounding warmth, the kind that works like anchors to your floating mind and it settles you firmly on the ground without holding you down.
Maybe this is what it truly feels like coming home.
"So how have you-", Clarke begins and you breathe in for what must have been minutes of holding your breath, at least it feels like that long. Your chest aches. Your fingers tingle and there's a shooting pain in your stomach, reaching out and in of itself like it's trying to leave your body.
She's interrupted by another voice, followed by a woman in a black, sleeveless shirt, dark brown hair tied up in more braids than you can count, stepping up to Clarke's side. Her arm is covered in tattoos and her eyes are painted hard with black eyeliner and eye-shadow. It's almost intimidating how she carries herself with such a touchable pride and grace.
Almost.
"I think I'm going crazy pretending to be this polite, I need a drink", the woman exhales with a boring tone to her unfamiliar voice. You´ve never seen her before and right now you wish you could be able to say that same thing for another minute or two. But the reality isn't kind like that. Clarke eases visibly when the woman approaches and when they stand next to each other, Clarke almost smiles. The woman looks at each and every one of you, when her eyes land on you, dark green and full with life, her face falls. However, she doesn´t look at you for any longer than she looked at Octavia and Clarke, but she turns her body ever so slightly towards Clarke as she takes another step forward. Like she's protecting her. "Oh hey, sorry, did I interrupt something", she asks and you´d like for Lincoln to come back now so that you can kill him and then disappear into thin air.
(Whatever to make you get as far away as possible from those green eyes and the tenderness in the blue ones.)
--
11:10pm
Monty sways from side to side, unbalanced on his round feet. You take hold of his shoulders and steady him before trying to hold his gaze, which is also very unsteady. "You are the most beautiful broom in a broom closet full of brooms", you tell him as an answer to his very drunk and illogical question. He hums something clearly incomprehensible in response and you swallow back the laughter quickly growing in the back of your throat. "Okay. Get him home, now", you say and turn him 180 degrees and into Jasper's hands. Thankfully they flipped a coin on which of them would act as the designated driver for tonight, very unusual for them to be responsible like that, and Jasper drew the short stick on that one.
"Alright, you bad boy, come here. See you tomorrow", Jasper answers with a little giggle in his voice. He smiles at you as he hooks one of Monty's arms around his own neck to keep him upright.
"Bye Jasper. Bye Monty”, you reply as the two of them slowly make their way down the hall.
You turn around to finding Octavia kissing Lincoln chaste on the lips. The smile she leaves on his mouth is a promise of everlasting love, one you know that they will keep. You might be wary about this wedding and the pace they've set for themselves, but you know it's true when you look at them in moments like this - they only have eyes for each other. Octavia grabs her purse and opens it, Lincoln still standing close with his hands down his pockets, waiting quietly to see Octavia through the door. Bellamy's already left and is waiting for her downstairs. They may not be that traditional or care too much about superstitions, but they did however expressed their wish to keep some of the anticipations. So Octavia is going to stay at Bell's since she moved out of her dorm three weeks ago, whilst you're still be staying here with Lincoln.
"Raven, don forget-".
"I'll be there at nine don't you worry", you say before she gets the chance to end the sentence. She looks up from digging through her purse, probably looking for her phone, as usual, to find your eyes. A thankful expression falls over her and you walk up to her. She slumps into your embrace with a tired sigh. Some part of you doesn't want to let go, just wants to stay like this forever and never let reality destroy the peace you feel right now. Still, you step back after holding her even harder for another moment. "Get some sleep babe", you whisper and she nods. A smile plays on her lips when she pulls out her phone with a triumphant gesture.
You step to the side and watch as she puts on her shoes. She turns halfway through the door.
"Love you".
"Love you too", the two of you answer and you feel the warmth coming from Lincoln's body when he takes a step closer.
The door closes silently and after that, an unsettling silence finds its way to the apartment. It fills up every corner and turns until you feel it crawl over your skin. It's nice too. In a very complicated way, you find comfort in the silence. You fall onto the couch, fling your legs up on the coffee table and slides down a little further. When Lincoln appears two minutes later, handing you a glass of clear woody brown liquid, he's loosened his tie and got the same tired expression you saw on Octavia's face earlier.
“That went well”, he says and you roll your eyes without him seeing it.
“I fucking hate you”, you answer and take all of the whisky in one go.
(It numbs the ache in your chest. But not the tug.)
(He has his arm around your shoulders and your head on his shoulder after your third round.)
//
11:30am
The water runs down your back. Leaving your skin blemished and aching. Your lungs inhale fog and exhale worry. Time is a very weird thing. It determines your beginning and end, but all the events there in between are not bound to seconds and minutes. You know this from experience. No time was given to you and your father, leaving your soul tainted when it should have been memories of the two of you saved there. Months made you linger and hope because each day made you fall harder and faster for Lincoln and he didn't even have to be present for all of those days, you still fell deeper and deeper into the love that grew between you. Only moments were offered for you to get to know Raven, yet that was all you needed to open up your heart and give each other love greater than one that was born through friendship.
You didn't grow up longing for a day to come when you would promise your life to another. You didn't wish or hope to find the greatest of loves. It didn't become a dream until you met him. You didn't believe in having a family outside of your brother and yourself. Yet, within two years you found both love and family.
This day marks a dream coming true if all plans go as planned.
You turn off the water and lean against the wall of the shower. You wait out the fog, let it clear out for another couple of minutes before you step out of the shower and get dressed. One day at a time, that's what Lincoln told you this morning when you laid in bed, his arms holding you close to his chest, his heartbeat falling into the rhythm of yours, your fingers sprawled over his shoulders, he told you that you'd take it one day at a time. One day. Maybe they can get through this day without everything escalating into something that won't ever be repaired.
(You only needed moments to understand the depth of the love Raven held for Clarke. It only took days for you to see how destructive that love was.)
When you step out of the bathroom you spot Lincoln standing by the stove and Raven by the kitchen table, one hand on the back of the chair next to her as she needs it to keep herself upright.
“Hey, you're up”, you say and walk over to her after closing the bathroom door.
“Sure am”, Raven answers and you snake your arms around her waist, she leans back against you with a tired sigh. “For now, at least”.
“It´s better than nothing”, Lincoln replies and you nod against Raven´s shoulder in agreement.
“What are you doing today?”, Raven asks and you let go of her waist to move over to the counter. You jump up on it and snatch a corner of the top pancake resting on the plate next to the stove.
“Brunch with Bell”.
You fire off a smile towards Lincoln as the subtle taste of vanilla fills your mouth.
(It's the little things that matter.)
(And Lincoln never forgets the little things.)
“Okay, what are we doing today then?”, she asks. Lincoln´s lips form a smile only made for you before it quickly fades away as he turns to Raven.
“I reserved the couch just for you”.
Raven exhales loudly, “I love you”. And you can´t hold back the laughter spilling off your tongue.
You watch as he shrugs his shoulders when he turns his eyes back to the stove. “I thought you needed some peace of quiet”.
“Well, you're also in charge of preparing for tonight”, you remind him. Raven then straightens her back a bit and turns fully towards you, doing the most ridiculous salute.
“Yes sir”.
You laugh at her stupidity and jump down from the countertop. “Idiot”, you say lovingly with a shake of your head. Leaning up on your toes you place a kiss onto Lincoln´s lips, the smile on yours rubs off on his. “Bye, call me if there´s something”, you tell him and after he nods in understanding you give him another kiss.
“Bye, babe”, Raven teases with a wink when you're back on your heels and then she gives you her cheek. Weirdo, you think for yourself with another set of laughter ready in your lungs. Instead of saying anything you place a messy kiss on her cheek, you then squeeze her shoulder gently with your hand. It's amazing how much you miss her when she's gone and how easily all of you fall back into this when she´s back - to be closer than ever before.
“Don´t have too much fun without me”, you tell them as you walk away and you catch Raven´s scoff from behind your back. You grab your bag thrown lazily over the back of the couch on your way towards the door and put your leather jacket on before turning the handle on the front door.
“Not possible”, she yells back at you as you walk through the door.
(No words in this world could describe how happy you are to have her home again.)
After a short and brisk walk to the little bistro five blocks away your hair has air dried almost completely.
You spot Bellamy as soon as you push the door open, to the familiar clang of the doorbell, and he sees you too. He's on his feet before you reach the table and then pulls you into his arms. He smells like Clarke's shampoo and coffee, a combination you've gotten used to by now. It would almost be weird if he didn't smell like that. Just as weird as it would be if Clarke wouldn't wear his college hoodie when she's sick.
"Hey you", he whispers as he tightens his arms around you.
"Let go you big bear", you squeal and he scoffs as he lets you out of his grip.
"I'm only glad that I get to steal a moment to hang with the bride to be".
You poke out your tongue at him as you sit down at the table.
“I always have time for you”, you murmur and his lips split into a smile. “Plus, I can´t be in the apartment right now”. That comes without saying. You know that Raven trusts you and confide in you, but there are things, shades of doubt, subjects of pain, haunting of dreams, that she only confides in Lincoln with. You know this. It's not something you feel bad or jealous about, you only want what's best for her. All you´ve ever wanted is the best for her. If that meant that you had to get out of the way so that Lincoln could try and get into her mind for a bit, perhaps even sort out some of that heaviness in her eyes (or the way she shouts for help in the middle of the night, waking everyone besides herself up in terror), then that´s what you are going to do.
Bellamy's hand slides over the table to find yours where you´re tugging and pulling absently at your fingers.
"How is she?".
, Of course, he can read you like an open book, too.
"Good, I think. Stressed. In denial, the usual", you answer with a hollow laugh. But then you nod like at yourself and continue, “she's doing great and she's here, that's what matters".
You never doubted her, that she would be here that is. She promised and if there's something Raven Reyes does, it is to keep her promises. That´s why she makes so few of them. However, that does not change the fact that you're worried about her, that all of you are on edge and ready to jump ship if that's what it takes to get through his weekend alive.
Your eyes find Bellamy´s again and he exhales slowly, once again it´s like he can read the question in your eyes. "She's all over the place", he says and you knew that already, you've known it for weeks since you told her that Raven was your maid of honour.
(The unsaid four-letter name hanging in the air belongs to the one person who seems to be able to get through to Clarke.)
(You´ve already thanked the gods for her and what she does to Clarke.)
She must have understood that Raven would come, that you would convince her or drag her back here for your wedding even if it meant that you had to actually go get her. Although, Clarke probably didn't believe it until you told her about the maid of honour thing and the fact that Raven was indeed coming home. Maybe she didn't believe it, because that would mean that she would actually get the chance to save whatever there was left between them.
And the heavens know, all of you are hoping for the best. But what that is, is getting harder and harder to determine.
"As long as they survive this weekend".
“You mean we. We'll all go down if they do”, he replies. There's so much truth to that sentence it makes the hair on your neck stand. You can't afford to lose either of them. Especially now. Still, there's the risk that one of them will take off. This time, maybe for good. "How are you doing?", Bellamy then asks with another squeeze of his hand over yours.
"Stressed. Nervous. Really really happy", you tell him with a lingering smile.
"Good. Do you need me to do anything?".
"Keep an eye on them. I'll do my best to get them talking at the very least, but I got this feeling that...", the words die on the tip of your tongue. You can't really explain, something just feels off. Or like there´s this static in the air like there's thunder coming.
"Yeah, I know. I feel it too", Bellamy tells you with a worried nod of his head. Then his brows furrow and he looks right at you again. “Hey, does Raven know about Lexa?”.
(You'd want a whole day just to sort that out.)
--
7:50pm
To have all of your friends over for dinner seemed like an excellent idea. Lincoln's family have been in town for the past week, so they didn't mind having some time for themselves after all the last-minute planning. So it really did seem like a good idea to spend your last night of freedom with your friends, that way you could escape all the hen and bachelor party mess.
(Finn almost jumped at you when he found out that you basically stole Lincoln from him and his last chance of getting him drunk. He didn't know that the dinner was Lincoln's idea.)
It s seemed like a good idea until you came home and found Raven chopping up onions without watching the knife. You were on her in a second and quickly took the knife from her hand, Lincoln watched with furrowed brows and an innocent look in his eyes. Raven was immediately put to get the drinks ready, with her being a bartender and all, and to set the table. She did look both relieved and disappointed at your order, but you guessed that all of her emotions were up and running. You know yours were then and certainly are now. However, you are set on making sure that all of you arrive at the venue tomorrow with all your fingers intact. This won't happen if Raven is anywhere closer than a five feet radius of a knife, grater or potato peeler without supervision.
(You know that she feels the same way about you and music. Which often leads to the two of you arguing.)
(She usually wins.)
How she has survived this long is surprising to you, yet again, it´s only in the kitchen that she's in danger. Put her in any other situation with real danger and she handles it with bravura. Though, if you´re right (you are), she has survived on takeouts and leftover takeouts these last months. She hasn't got any practice at actually cooking since she left.
So it was a good idea until Lincoln and yourself had to get everything done before the others started to arrive.
You rushed into the bedroom to change the same second the doorbell rang the first time. Behind the closed door, you could hear Jasper and Monty greeting Raven. The laughter made all that stress lingering in your body dissolve into nothing, not even a whimper of a memory. You know for a fact that everyone is really excited to see her again and you think it will do her good to see that for herself.
When you leave the bedroom, black dress on and hair sprawled over your shoulders, you lay eyes on Lincoln and Raven coming his way with clutching fists at her sides.
"Remind me again why you're friends with that idiot", she says frustratingly as she pulls to a stop.
"We're not, but he's friends with Jasper so we couldn't get rid of him", you answer as you step into the kitchen, you bump hip with her to then lean into Lincoln.
"Have I told you I love you", she asks and you can´t hold back the smile growing on your lips.
"Not today, no", you say and Lincoln´s chest vibrates with laughter, but it doesn´t reach the air.
"I love you Octavia Blake, soon to be Mrs Moore". She blows you a kiss.
"That's right", Lincoln murmurs before placing a kiss on your head.
If love could be captured and saved forever, you´d want to save this moment - Lincoln and you, holding each other with such a gentle touch, eyes filled with the passion you only share in sacred moments when no one else is around. Well, Raven's around but doesn't really count.
(You see her coming before she makes the others aware of her presence. Before Raven knows she is here.)
"What are we talking about?".
You watch her change in Raven. In Clarke. Even feel the small but yet noticeable change in Lincoln.
This is what the calm before a storm feels like.
“Hi Raven”, Clarke´s voice is only a whisper
How much can be shared between eyes. That's a question you'll never get an answer to. But something is exchanged between deep brown and bright blue, right before your eyes and neither of them says anything. This is a problem, especially now when Clarke has made an attempt at being civil. You eye Raven, worrying your lip between your teeth, anxious for her to say something.
Anything.
Just spit it out for Christ sake, you yell inside your head.
"The fact that Octavia soon won't be a Blake anymore", Lincoln answers and you know he does it to save Raven.
"I'll always be a Blake. Speaking of Blakes, where's Bell with the ice?", you say, frowning as you turn to scan through the apartment for your brother.
"I'll go find him", Lincoln offers. You squeeze his waist in an agreement where your hand has been resting.
He lingers for a moment at Raven's side as she passes her, leaving her with a fury in her eyes. Another silence falls over the three of you. You don't mind it, really don't. Yet again, you do mind them being like this. They used to be best friends and no they are this - awkward, quiet, out of place.
You cough, forced of course. It seems to be the only way to get any attention from the black-haired girl. Raven looks more confused than you feel, but also like she might actually say something.
But unfortunately Raven can´t speak before Clarke does.
Yet she doesn't say much either.
"So how have you-", Clarke begins but is interrupted by another voice, followed by Lexa making her way into their little circle.
She´s wearing a black, sleeveless shirt. Together with her dark brown hair, tied up in those impressive braids you loved from the first time you saw them, she looks like something the most foolish girls would fall for. God knows, if you were single you'd be falling for it in seconds.
"I think I'm going crazy pretending to be this polite, I need a drink", she says and you smile towards her. Those green eyes of hers look at each and every one of you, when her eyes land on Raven though, her face falls. However, she doesn´t look at the other girl for any longer than she looked at Clarke and you, but she turns her body ever so slightly towards Clarke as she takes another step forward.
Always so protective, you think for yourself and bite down on your bottom lip.
(Here goes.)
"Oh hey, sorry, did I interrupt something", she asks and you're not sure there's a good answer to that question.
--
11:12pm
"I'll see you tomorrow", you murmur against his mouth, lips brushing against his with a little smile playing in the corner but not quite reaching far enough to fill them.
"I can't wait", he answers and kisses you. It's soft, gentle, deep and holds every single emotion you share for each other.
I can't wait to be yours, in all ways there are. You put those words into the kiss as his tongue graces your bottom lip, but lingers there instead of deepening the kiss even further. I can't wait to be your Lincoln, you hum quietly before pulling back.
"Me neither", you reply with a small smile on your lips, you press it to Lincolns with a silent beat of your heart.
You can´t wait to share your insignificant forever with him. It may be small in the significance of the great big world, but it's never-ending when he's around. So you'll give him every second of it and even more if time allows it.
Your eyes fall from his at the thought of it. Not that it scares you, but you're barely capable of keeping your hands off him for long enough to say goodbye. If he saw the reflection of those thoughts in your eyes, not even the gods would be able to keep the two of you apart. You grab your purse from where it hangs over the couch and open it with lazy fingers, still feeling Lincoln standing close by your side.
(His very presence is all you need to feel loved.)
"Raven, don't forget-", you begin as you´re still searching through your purse.
"I'll be there at nine don't you worry", she interrupts and draws your eyes to herself. You exhale as a calm falls over you and soaks through all those nerves. She notices, she can read you like the open book you are and comes up to you. You almost fall into her arms with a desperate sigh. You would survive on Raven´s hugs alone. When she steps back you catch the same feeling reflected in her brown eyes. "Get some sleep babe", she whispers and you nod.
A smile plays on your lips when your fingers grip hold of your phone deep down in your purse and you pull it out with that same smile still on your lips.
She steps to the side to let you pass her. You're on your way out the door when all of those feelings hit you, so you turn to find both of them watching you. "Love you", you say and your heart sings the words as well.
"Love you too", the two of them answer and you feel the warmth spreading through your body, and it doesn't stop until you're back at Bell´s.
(Truth be told, that warmth never leaves you.)
--
11:57pm
Lincoln (11:57pm): The bed is cold without you in it
Octavia (11:58pm): I know the feeling
Lincoln (11:58pm): I love you so much
Octavia (11:59pm): Love you more
(You fall asleep smiling and dream of strong arms holding you through the night.)
//
11:15am
The room smells of anguish. It´s almost touchable.
You woke up with the feeling of it choking you. Your legs were trapped in the sheets after a night of twisting and turning. The pounding headache was the only thing that was any indicator of you actually being alive, still. You got up and opened the window to ventilate some of that heaviness in the air. You´ve been pacing back and forth since that first blow of wind caressed your cheeks.
Your head is still pounding, but it's not just that - your chest feels tight, almost like you're out of breath and no matter how many deep breaths you take, your lungs still scream for help.
You're pacing to keep yourself from thinking because thinking leads to putting one and one together. Because you've felt like this once before. That time you stood by your father's bed, with his hand in yours, his heartbeats counting down and then coming to a jarring stop. If you stop, you'll hear that ear-deafening sound again. You're pacing because you're scared out of your mind.
You almost jump out of your own skin with a sudden jolt at the light knock on your bedroom door.
“Bye, babe. See you and Lexa tonight”, Bellamy shouts and you exhale with your shoulders sinking to a normal level again. Right, he´s getting brunch with Octavia and then he´s off to work.
“Bye, Bell”, you answer and some sort of a relieved smile touches your lips.
Your heart doesn't calm until long after you've heard the front door shut after him. You blame your nerves for that.
Octavia has forbidden everyone from arriving before seven, which fits perfectly since Lexa doesn't finish until then. The problem is; you can't stand the quiet.
You spend most of the bed doing nothing. Or more like, you try to spend the day in bed doing nothing. The air is too heavy. You is too heavy and it drives you completely insane. So you throw on that white blouse Bellamy got you for your birthday and the black ripped jeans you stole from Octavia. After you've stopped sighing and complaining about your hair for a good few minutes you do your makeup, you keep it light and mostly contouring your eyes, to then leave the apartment with Lexa´s leather jacket on.
It clock has barely passed three pm.
There is a low buzz in the cafe when you slip through the door, you've gotten used to it by now after spending at least four nights a week here. It´s comfortable, soothing even. You don't even have to look for her, your eyes are drawn to her like magnets and they find her standing behind the counter.
A lock of her hair has escaped its braid and is irritating her eye. She tries to blow it out of her face, but it immediately falls back down again, leaving a frustrating tension around those full lips. She leaves it hanging after a while, too busy keeping track of her own hands as they work at their own accord.
Something you've noticed about her is the way her whole body shifts when she stands back there. Her posture is always perfect but it's enhanced when she's working as she puts her every bit of pride and strength into what she does. More than once have you listened to her arguing to herself about the work she does, that she only serves coffee, but it never ends with her being negative about it. She´s never negative, not even after a whole day of serving coffee to nonchalant people that (somehow, you don't really get how) doesn't spare her a second glance.
You know for a fact that that attitude will end up giving her the chance to do great things in this world.
God knows, she´s already started doing great things to you.
Her green eyes scan through the cafe and widen with surprise when they find you. It quickly changes into joy as you walk towards her.
"Please tell me you have some booze stashed away somewhere around here", you mumble as you throw up your bag on the countertop at the very end of the line to then place your head on it with a desperate sigh.
She snickers quietly. "I think we have some liqueur. I can make you a macchiato with... hazelnut liqueur?", she replies and you lift your head just enough to meet her gaze. You grunt in response and she continues to snicker.
She places the cup of steaming coffee in front of you before going back to work. When you take the first sip, a smile touches your lips and then your eyes find hers watching you. A little smirk pulls at the corner of Lexa´s mouth, but it stays there since she's caught up making conversation with her coworker, her name is Indra and she's the most scolding woman you've ever met, but also the most respected one too, while juggling taking care of the coffee orders and the customers.
When you're out of coffee Lexa somehow manages to slip by you and replace the mug with a glass of cold water. You don't touch it.
You observe her work as in a haze. Your fingers tingle with that familiar feeling, one that often creeps up on you when you're around her. Normally you'd be able to get rid of it, let it flow through your fingers and stick to paper instead, but you didn't bring your sketchbook. In the rush of getting out of the apartment you completely forgot to put your sketchbook in your bag, the one thing you tend to always have on you nowadays. Thanks to Lexa. She bought you that book as a consolation prize as she called it. Evidently, you succeeded in not quitting last year and actually stayed in college, but you still got a long way to go. So she got you that book as a small but healing bandage on the wound, her words not yours. It was cute and thoughtful (which of course made Bellamy watch you with big eyes when you showed him, he didn't actually say anything but you could see it on him and he wanted to say plenty). You have sketched her so many times by now, in all different styles and environments, but that does not change the fact that your fingers still tingle whenever you watch her in that mood.
Time, minutes followed by hours pass and you don't move an inch.
After returning from a quick wardrobe change Lexa comes to stand next to you, she leans against the counter with her back and you feel her presence there even though you can barely see her in the corner of your eye. You´ve been laying with your head in your arms on top of the countertop for the last half hour or so and every bit of energy has left your body.
"Do you wanna talk about it?", she asks.
She knows you. Better than you do sometimes. She has the ability to read you and tell you all the things you need to hear but will never ask for, it's sweet, it's harsh, it's honest and pure. She helps you see what you forgot and what you need to discover all over again. She´s pain and happiness.
"I don't know what there is to talk about", you mumble and the way Lexa nudges your arm lightly with her elbow sends shivers down your spine, or more like tiny electric shocks.
"I think her name starts with r". You grunt in response and breathe out heavily. The emptiness echoing in your chest replaces the tug you've still not gotten used to. "Hey, look at me". Lexa´s voice is strong and demanding, as is the hand she cups under your chin and uses to lift your head from its place on your folded arms. Her eyes shine with green forests and life. "I'm with you".
"Okay".
"I will not leave you".
"Okay", you whisper again.
The smile filling up those green eyes is brighter than the sun itself and it scares away the last of the emptiness. "We are going to have a good time, together", she says and you nod slightly. Her hand travels up over your cheek, fingers tangle in your hair before running through it fully. That smile reaches her lips before she leans back against the counter as she did earlier. You sit back up straight and let your eyes close during a few breaths, but they quickly find hers again when they open. "You're all good honey", Lexa continues. She sounds confident.
(You don´t know how she can do that.)
"As long as I got you, right?".
She laughs a little and runs that same hand over her own hair. "Oh yeah baby", she answers with that silky voice of hers.
It's first now that you see it. Her sleeveless black shirt and pine green pants. Her green eyes are framed with black eye-shadow and clean lines of eyeliner. She reminds you of Egypt, kingdoms, war and epic love. She reminds you to take a breath. You may not be made by steel, but she has shown you that even trees can stand tall in their loneliness, battle through every storm with roots digging deeper than the wind can curb. Her hair is tied up in those immaculate braids.
She's a vision.
"Like what you see?".
Your eyes jerk up. Her brow is hitched in question and the little glimpse in her eyes is too cute for you to handle. She can definitely do some damage with those eyes.
"You know I do", you answer and she laughs that raspy and healing laugh you've grown to miss when the rest of the world just gets too much.
"Come on heart eyes, we need to get going", she tells you and bumps your shoulder with her fist.
You follow her as she makes her way out of the cafe, leaving more than one person looking at her when she passes them. It makes you grin, in more ways than you´d explain. And it doesn't hurt as much anymore.
Lexa has the ability to chase away the fragile memories of dark hair, brown eyes, flower petals covering an ankle and rough hands.
At least for another minute or two.
You check the time on your phone as you enter the building, it´s a quarter to eight. And you are not ready for this.
(Will you ever be ready for this?)
--
7:57pm
"Oh hey, sorry, did I interrupt something".
"No", the both of you answer. You catch the surprise in Raven´s eyes when she looks at you, it must be reflected in your own because she looks away just as fast again.
"Good", Lexa says but the way she peeks over at you tells you that she would like to say a whole lot more.
Not that you wouldn´t mind her talking because that means you don't have to and you're not even sure you can really talk in this state.
Because seeing her feels like a slap to the face and someone knocking the air out of your lungs, but at the same time like something fills out all the holes and voids in your body.
It´s not being able to breathe even though your lungs finally understand that it's okay to breathe oxygen instead of anxiety.
Like the blood running through your veins has stilled and is boiling, like your eyes are blinded but all you see is light like the world has come to a jarring stop and at the same time spins more now than ever before.
Still, Lexa is great but also very very blunt and that could go all kinds of wrong in this particular situation.
So you take to words before she can.
"Lexa this is Raven. Raven, Lexa".
"Hi", Raven says with what you recognize as a forced smile. Good god, you think and bite the inside of your cheek.
"So you're the infamous Raven Reyes", Lexa replies and now you're chewing the inside of your cheek. Raven's eyes narrow once again, this time in Lexa´s direction. "They talk a lot about you", she explains, but it really doesn't clarify anything at all.
You can see the darker shade of something that looks similar to jealousy play on Raven´s eyes for a second. The same second she licks her lips and then asks, “they?".
Lexa nods. You bite even harder on your cheek, hard enough for your tongue to taste iron. "Lincoln, O, Bell, everyone really".
"Oh, so you know all them", Raven comments and the way her mouth is contoured with tension makes you wonder why, for Christ's sake, did you bring Lexa. Yeah right, you couldn't imagine surviving this weekend without her by your side. You couldn't imagine seeing her again without your support system and that was undeniably Lexa. That is why you brought her.
Because you need her, now more than ever.
"Yeah, we're all buddy buddies. Aren't we?". Lexa nudges your shoulder and you break away from Raven's mouth with your eyes. The last time your eyes were locked on them like this they were swollen and wet after your kiss. You can taste the memory of her on the tip of your tongue.
And it hurts.
God, it hurts.
"Yeah, yes", you stutter as you swallow hard.
"Definitely", Octavia adds with a half-smile. She's not buying your poor attempt at playing good and nice. You know it, it's written all over her face when she locks eyes with you.
“How´s London?”, you ask in an attempt to prove yourself wrong, to prove that you can do this, that it can be normal and good between you even though it's far from any of that.
“It´s good”, Raven answers with a short nod.
“Don't over exaggerate”, Octavia cuts in and nudges Raven´s side with her elbow. Raven flinches, but a smile does touch her lips for a split second. “She sounds like some cockney guy sometimes, it´s appalling”.
“Oh thank you dear”.
Raven's voice is kind and warm when it's directed at Octavia.
And it hurts.
“But you got a job or something?”. How you even find the words to ask that will remain a mystery, but you do and Raven´s brown eyes are back on you like fire.
She tilts her head to the side like she's trying to see you from another angle like she's trying to see through you. “Yeah, at a club”.
A silence falls over you, maybe the whole room.
And it fucking hurts.
The tension in your shoulders and neck will most definitely leave you aching. Just like the tug at your chest will leave you twisting and turning when you find your way back to your bed. You can already feel the sweat down your back and how you'll sit up with eyes blown open with terror from yet another nightmare, or wishful dream. The last one is worse. Ten times worse. Because it´s an evil reminder of how stupid you were and how you'll never get what your heart desires, what your body lusts for. You will never have her and that hurts in ways that shouldn't be humanly possible.
Lexa´s hand brushes lightly against your hip, enough to break you out of the storm of thoughts, not long or hard enough for them to fade away again.
"So where's your date?", she asks and you know it's meant to distract you, and it does, but it also brings up the one topic you've avoided since that afternoon Octavia sprung that piece of information on you.
"What?", Raven laughs and you furrow your brows at the sudden humour. It almost sounds like she's genuinely surprised by the question.
"Yeah, Octavia said that you were dating someone", you add and Raven's eyes widen at your words. You look over at Octavia for some support, but the only thing you find is the panicky look in her eyes. It's almost like you can hear her breathe fucking shit, over and over again.
"I don't...", Raven's voice fades quickly as she turns her eyes to Octavia as well. You watch the sudden anger in those brown eyes and swallow hard when you realize what it means. "I don't have a plus one", Raven continues and every word is hissed through gritted teeth.
Oh fuck.
You can hear yourself mumble the words and when you glance over at Lexa, she seems to think the same thing.
Oh fucking shit.
"Sorry, maybe I got it wrong", you say and Lexa scoffs quietly beside you.
"Yeah, definitely".
"Okay, I think we should go. You said that Monty was here? We need to do some collecting. He hasn't paid me back for that escort yet", Lexa hurries and drags you away from there by your arm, though there's no need to drag you because you already feel like running far far away from this place.
When you glance back at the girls with the same dark coloured hair, you see them standing closer, Octavia got her hands in her pockets whilst Raven's are open in front of her in a desperate gesture, Raven's talking fast and low, Octavia nods once and then twice. You turn back forward because it feels wrong to stare. Yet you can't help yourself, because you can still see the anger in Raven's eyes, one you´ve never seen before. So you glance back again, this time to catch Raven run her right hand through that hair (your fingers tingle at the motion) and then Octavia has hers on Raven's shoulders, they look at each other without saying anything. You turn back forward when Raven nods before crashing into Octavia's embrace.
(Your heart thumps desperately in your chest.)
--
10:40pm
You can not help it.
It's hard enough as it is to not look at her, to not listen a little bit more intense when she speaks, to not notice how your lungs hold their breath or how your whimpering heart jumps when you watch her smile.
You can not help the way you feel like your whole world has been concentrated around her. It has in a way - all of your friends are here and even though it's supposed to be Lincoln and Octavia's weekend they have given her more than enough room. Jasper and Monty, mostly Jasper with his big and curious eyes, seemed mesmerized by Raven´s stories. She talked about her life like it was something given, something that shouldn't be spent too much time talking about, like she hasn´t changed at all. She has. In so many ways. You sat across from her, two chairs to the left, perfectly able to watch the way her eyes lit up when she talked about quiet Sundays walking around London's busy streets, or how her lips quirked up ever so slightly when she spoke about a girl named Harper and a guy called Miller. (Or how her jaws tightened when she talked about her boss.) You had the chance and took it, soaked in every second of just looking at her.
Lexa didn't say anything about it, but her green eyes were filled with a mix of confusion and anticipation whenever they met yours from across the table.
You watched her on and off, trying to not stare too intensely or long. But it's hard to not look into the sun when you finally have the chance. Her eyes didn't meet yours, even once. Whenever you participated in the discussion, her eyes were somewhere else, on you but not available from direct eye contact. It frustrated you. It scared you. She seemed almost indifferent, like your presence did nothing to her, meant nothing to her.
Maybe it doesn´t.
Lexa went out after dinner to make a call. You bit back the teasing smile you would gladly give her, but you could save that for later when there wasn't an audience. Jasper dragged Finn with him to grab a smoke, even though most of you protested and give him a piece of your mind. Finn isn't the best role model for someone as sweet and innocent as Jasper. Yet, none of you can really do anything about it. When it comes down to it, Jasper might be the one affecting Finn more than Finn believes he can affect Jasper. At least Monty went with them, after assuring the rest of you that he wouldn't let either of them do anything too stupid.
You leave the table after Octavia´s strict order to leave the dishes for her and Lincoln.
The three glasses of wine you happily took run through your veins, spreading warmth and heaviness through your body. You look over at where Lincoln and Octavia are fighting over the sink, laughing and giggling, splashing water at each other. The concept of love has changed a lot over the years, but it has had a constant definition since you got to know Octavia and the way she shared all of her being with Lincoln. What they have is the kind of love the younger and untainted version of you wished for.
It's amazing how fast it changes. How fast you can go from feeling happy and at peace with the whole situation.
It´s like gravity.
One second you're floating, watching the happy two at the sink, listing to their chatting and giggling. Then, you're crashing, your head turns and your eyes land on the back of a girl you once knew, and all the memories comes flooding back, they hit you all at once, knocking the air out of your lungs.
You felt it earlier at dinner, maybe even before, but know that´s the only thing you feel.
She's gravity.
She was comfort, stability, the one embrace you needed after a long week, the burned toast passed over the kitchen island on Saturday mornings. She was sanity. She was the cuddle you desperately needed during a horror movie, the one you fell asleep spooning and woke up entangled with. She was warm, with coffee, Thai food and cheap beer. She was home.
She was.
Not even yours. Not even close to being yours.
She is not yours.
Nor will she ever be.
Tears are rushing down your face before you can take another breath. Lungs screaming low and loud in your chest. It´s a ten. If you had to define the pain from one to ten, this is a ten. And you have no idea where it hurts. It only hurts. You suck in a ragged breath through shaking lips and when your tongue licks at your bottom lip you taste salt.
She was.
And you fucked up.
You practically jump out of your skin when a hand gently brushes over your arm. Your head jerks to the side and your blue eyes find a pair of green ones.
“Clarke, what's wrong?”, Lexa asks and her eyes scan you for any physical evidence or explanation for your tears. If only she could see the way your chest is tightened.
“Nothing, just”, you lick your lips before biting down hard, trying to not let out another sob. Lexa´s hand strokes up and down your forearm, while her eyes are still trying to make any sense of your sudden breakdown. You shake your head and make one last attempt at getting your shit together, if only for one single minute. You exhale and inhale slowly, eyes meeting Lexa´s. She´s worried, it's written all over her face. And angry. Her shoulders are tense and her jaws locked. “Just take me out of here”, you breathe and watch the way those green eyes wander to the side and that anger in them flashes red.
You slip one of your hands into hers to get her attention again.
(And avoid her going off on one.)
Lexa´s fingers lace together with yours and then she exhales heavily. “Okay, come on”, she says and leads you to the door, picking up your bag and jacket as you pass them.
(She doesn't let go until she has to, only to pull you into her arms instead.)
(You haven't stopped crying even after you say goodbye and see her go back to the stairs.)
(She calls you two minutes later, not taking no for an answer.)
--
11:38pm
Tears break through your guard and you clench your eyes shut in protest. How it's even possible that there are any tears left in your body is beyond incomprehensible. Your lashes are heavy with salt and sticky because of the not so waterproof mascara that ran down your face like watercolour earlier. The skin on your cheeks sting from all the rubbing and you still have remains of mascara tracks stretching from your eyes down to your cheekbones. The skin stings, your head is pounding and your chest feels like it's trapped underneath a car.
You suck in another short breath. Letting out a shaky sob as you exhale again.
”Are you going to be okay? I can come back, you know. I can be there in half an hour”, Lexa´s voice is close and far away. Too far away. Still, her voice is the only one you need to hear to be able to try again, maybe even try a little harder.
“You´ve got work tomorrow. No, I´ll just go to sleep”, you answer and wipe at the corner of your eyes. Lexa breathes slowly, calmly and steady. “Lex, thank you”.
“What for?”.
“For being there for me, for being here for me. I don't know what I'd do without you”, you answer and you can almost hear the smile she makes, how it spreads from ear to ear, you can see the way her eyes light up with warmth and happiness.
“You would be fine, Clarke”. You're smiling too. It might be weak and stained by what's left after crying for almost an hour, but it's there. Then, her voice is there again, strong and confident, “I meant what I said, I'm not leaving you”.
“Goodnight Lex”, you whisper because there are so many other things you could tell her. All of which she already knows. She has always known.
“Sleep tight, Clarke”.
You let your arm fall to your side, the phone feels heavy in your hand and the screen goes black as the dial window closes. You can't explain it. There is no explanation as to why it felt like the world came crashing down at that moment. Still, you do know. It's been an enormous build-up to that moment, to that significant moment when you would stand face to face with her again. Yes, it´s been a year. Yes, you have moved on. Yes, you are better now than where you were last August.
No.
Simply no.
She shouldn´t be able to make you feel like this. But you've been carrying around the memories you hold of her for months, cherishing them, resenting them, crying over them. You´ve spent so much time thinking that you would never see her again and then Lincoln and Octavia got engaged. And she had a reason to come back again. She didn´t come back for you, or for what she felt for you. She came back for them. Only for them. She didn't even want to see you, you know it, you saw it in her eyes when she looked at you. She came back for Octavia and Lincoln, and she had to see you even though she'd rather forget about your existence.
So no. It's been over a year, you have been trying to move on and even though you are better now, all it took was for her to be there for you to feel like your whole world came crashing down. Because, even though you were blinded, she was your world.
You push off your bed at the click of the lock being turned and you step out into the hallway as Bellamy opens the front door. Octavia slips past him and her eyes catch you briefly before turning to hang up her jacket.
“Hey”.
“Hi”, you answer, voice husky and low. It comes out almost like a croak.
Her brown eyes look back up at you. Her brows hitched with confusion. “You alright?”.
“Yeah, I just talked to Lexa”, you answer, like that would explain anything at all. It doesn´t. Octavia doesn't let go of your gaze, so you break it instead. What your eyes find instead makes your brows jerk up in confusion. “What are you smiling about?”, you ask and Octavia turns her head to spot the same goofy grin smeared all over Bellamy's face.
“Us”.
You huff. Octavia looks like she's trying to solve a very difficult and complex mathematical problem. She walks over to you and stands by your side. “Do you know what he´s talking about?”, she then asks as she leans to you.
“Don't look at me, I'm not a Bellamy whisperer”, you scoff and Bellamy laughs quietly as he kicks off his shoes.
The two of you are still watching him when he´s done. The smile on his lips isn't fading.
“I know we´ve all been through some things this year and I just want to say that I'm really glad to have you both in my life”, he says and it´s Octavia´s turn to scoff, and she does it loudly as she holds her arms over her chest.
“Okay, what's with the emotions”.
“I don't know, I just needed to say it. I love you both so much and I couldn't imagine life without either of you”. You are about to fall into a burst of very confused laughter at those words, but then he steps up to you and there's something in those dark eyes. Something you haven't seen before. And, it doesn't hurt as much at that moment. "I got myself another sister", he says and you blink away another set of tears.
Octavia huffs playfully, “I wasn't enough, huh?". You break into laughter your body doesn't quite recognize, it has just a long time since you could really laugh and it fills your heart with warmth to be able to set it free. You fling your arms around the two of them.
(Yeah, the Blake siblings are the best.)