Saturday
7:14am
“Alright, alright! I'm coming!”, you yell as you stumble out of the guest bedroom, pulling up your sweatpants as you're walking over, hair still wet from the shower and a banging headache causing you to grit your teeth. You fling the door open and stand in the opening, eyes red with anger. Bellamy only grins back at you, Jasper and Monty not far behind him both with just as messy hair as you. “I should slap you”, you say instead of asking him if he knows what the time is and how incredibly stupid it is of him to bang on the door like a fucking gorilla.
Like you would run for the door if he just banged a few more times.
And it´s not like you're on edge and slightly hungover.
“You could try”, he answers and goes in for a kiss on the cheek. You grunt in response as he slips past you into the apartment. Jasper and Monty both offer you smiles, but do not try to get any hugs considering how narrowed your eyes are and how much of not a morning person you are. They learned that lesson a long time ago. When you close the door again, Bellamy´s watching you with a teasing smile. He eyes you up and down before clicking his tongue against his lip. “No beauty sleep for you, huh?”.
You flip him off, too tired to actually hit him even though he most definitely deserves it.
“Don't listen to him, Raven. He's just grumpy because his sister´s getting married before he is”, Jasper comments and Bellamy's face falls. Even though it's meant as a joke, Jasper is right on some level. Bellamy might not be the kind of person who dreams about a big wedding or meeting the one, but he is Bellamy Blake after all.
The romantic in him must be taking a good beating out of this.
You chose to not comment on it. Although you can´t help the small moan that slips your lips as you tilt your head ever so slightly and pain shooting down your neck. Jasper is quick on his feet and returns from the kitchen without you even knowing that he even disappeared from your side, holding a glass of water in one hand and painkillers in the other. You´re this close to kissing him.
“Bell take notes, this is how a gentleman acts”, you teas as you take the pills and swallow them down with big gulps of water. Bellamy scoffs.
“He's just trying to get some dirty weeding sex”.
Monty huffs, but when you look over at him you can tell that he is having difficulties with holding back laughter. Just like all the other times in the past that Jasper has made a fool out of himself or when he has been in any other state than sober. Just like that, it feels like nothing has changed like you didn't get on that plane and missed out on a whole year of being with these knuckleheads. Just like that, you're reminded of what you could have lost and will if you leave for a second time.
(The tug at your chest stays at a steady rhythm, it only hurts a little bit more.)
“Fat chance”, you mumble as Jasper´s cheeks flash red.
“Aren't you running late?”, Lincoln adds before no one else can reply from where he´s standing at the kitchen table. His tux hanging with the hook in one of the upper cupboards in the kitchen and his vows displayed on the kitchen table.
(If you didn't know better, you´d say that he´s getting nervous because he´s never this tidy.)
(He is incredibly nervous.)
“Do you need a ride?”, Monty asks and you fire off a big smile directed to Bellamy, teasing as hell. He only shakes his head, but those eyes are filled with warmth and promise of a lot more than just teasing each other for the rest of the weekend.
“No, thank you Monty. I´m taking Lincoln's car”, you say as you grab your jacket, you feel for the keys in one of the pockets before turning back to your room to get your bag. The dress is already at the church, as you should be too.
When you come back out, Monty and Jasper have moved into the kitchen and are busy talking to Lincoln about something that brings a big smile to his lips. You couldn't be happier even if all of your dreams come true at this moment.
(Or would you?)
“Remember that we drive on the right side in this country”, Bellamy murmurs as you place your hand on the handle.
“Fuck you Bellamy”.
“You´ve already done that, remember”, he replies and you throw him a look, he´s smiling well too big for his own good and then winks as you close the door.
You're wearing an irritable smile as you leave the building.
You love Bellamy Blake and his jackass comments.
The ride over to the church takes less than ten minutes, but it's ten minutes that you spend clenching to the wheel, nervously tapping your fingers against either your thigh or the gearstick whenever you stop at a red light, eyes flickering up to the review mirror three times as often than you need to. Lincoln isn't the only one who´s nervous, that's for sure. One might think that things would feel easier after last night, that it wouldn´t feel like your chest was trapped or like the pain in the back of your head wasn't caused by the amount of alcohol you consumed yesterday. No, one would possibly even believe that it could be normal to do this.
It´s not.
(Although, normal hasn´t been normal for at least the past year.)
The pain is a mix of tension and your body trying to deal with the hangover you've clearly gotten. Training does not make perfect, because if it did your body would have learned to deal with having a hangover like a master by now. (Sometimes you even believe that you're dealing worse and worse by each time you wake up with this kind of a banging headache.) As for your chest, it hasn't been the same since that day. Since that kiss. So that has close to nothing to do with this day. It only has everything to do with blonde curls and ocean blue eyes. And this day is not going to be spoiled on thinking of either of those, or pink lips that taste of coffee, or the overwhelming feeling of her body against yours.
You are jerked back into reality at the sound of a horn going off and when your eyes shoot up to the review mirror you catch the driver behind you in his blue Volvo flipping you off.
You practically jump on the gas.
When you pull up at the church two blocks later your knuckles are white from holding onto the wheel as if in a death grip.
(Yeah, blue eyes and blonde curls will ruin you.)
Your lungs seem to have gotten suddenly allergic to the taste of the air and you feel weak at the knees, idiotically enough you have to brace yourself against the side of the car. It´s not even her wedding for crying out loud, you think for yourself as your lip gets caught between your teeth. Yet why does it feel like this is the beginning of a slow and heart-aching goodbye.
Yeah right, because she has someone.
She has Lexa.
The taste of copper fills your mouth and when your hand comes up to wipe across your mouth something wet and sticky is left on the skin of the back of your hand. Your hand is stained red with drops of blood. Last night at dinner you spent all of your energy on not looking at them, on not noticing the fact that Clarke leaned towards Lexa with those blue eyes relieved from hurt (but the few times she met your gaze all you could see was hurt), on not feeling like your insides might explode if that four-letter name touched her lips again.
It went really well, that´s why you got five rounds of whiskey in you.
(It was torture.)
It takes you another ten minutes before you're able to actually feel your feet again and then two more minutes of you staring up at the cloud-free sky before you leave the car behind and enter the church.
(It smells just like the one your parents used to take you to.)
The air within these stonewalls is cold and makes the hair on your arms stand ever so slightly. It´s nice, considering that the hall will be filled in a couple of hours, that plus a sun stretching for zenith will be enough to get the temperature up a few degrees. And you doubt that there´s any reliable air condition in this old building.
It´s quiet. Calm. Soothing. You even manage to smile without it being forced. This is Octavia and Lincoln´s day, and nothing will come between them and the happiness they deserve.
If only the quiet wasn't so easily crushed.
“It´s beautiful, O”.
The voice is soft. It´s a bright yellow and blistering fire down your spine. It draws memories of laughter and tears caused by joy out of the shaded parts of your memory, the parts that you've tried your best to drown in alcohol and nights spent worshipping libs, arms and desperate sounds of pleasure.
She sounds happy. Happy as long as you're not there.
(You cannot go through with this.)
A small whisper in your head tells you to breathe easy.
So you do. Even though it hurts more than ever before to be in her presence knowing that you'll never be the cause of her happiness.
(When Lexa later shows up with coffee, wearing a black, tight dress, putting that same smile back on Clarke´s lips, you feel like running back to London.)
--
11:00am
It´s a weird feeling that finds you as the line gathers. Your eyes are fixed right in front of you, and you swing your arms slightly at your sides trying to not be nervous. But all of your senses are occupied by the smell, voice and very presence of her. You might have coped earlier when you were getting dressed, mostly by ignoring the way your whole body ached to just being near her. Just for a second, without pretending that you don't feel everything. Octavia´s nonstop talking about their honeymoon plans made it easier too.
Bellamy falls into your side with a tender smile, His brown eyes are shining with joy and you truly believe that this is one of the best days of his life, even though it must hurt on some level to see the only family member he has left marry into another man's family. They have always been the only ones they've had. Even though they have many close friends, blood is blood and the bond they have is even stronger than that.
“Clarke, can you check my pants”, he says as he lifts his jacket and angles his back towards the blonde standing behind you in line. You shoot him a look, catching the confused look on the guy behind him - Nyko, one of Lincoln's many cousins. “I could have sat down on something that looked like crumbles”, he continues as an explanation.
Clarke lets out soft laughter. “Sure”. You don't see it, you feel it, as she takes a step closer, her arms barely brushing against yours. (You're holding your breath at that moment.) When she steps back you don't feel it or see it, this time you hear it - the heel meeting the floor sends another shiver down your back.
(You're convinced that you're going to combust before this day comes to an end.)
“You're fine”, Clarke tells him and Bellamy shakes her arms to let the jacket fall back down, then corrects the sleeves. He looks handsome.
“Thanks”.
When he throws you a look not long after that he´s brow hitches in worry, but you're quick to offer him a comforting smile. Even though you know for a fact that he can read you, almost as well as his younger sister or Lincoln.
“Where´s O?”, you ask and turn around, careful not to look right at Clarke. (God you're beautiful, you think when your gaze floats by her face.)
“Here!”, comes an answer and then follows the sound of tapping heels. “I´m here”, she says again as she stops at the very end of the line. The four of you are all mesmerized by her beauty. Maybe Lexa gets to marry her after all, you think as your lips quirk up into a heartfelt smile. Lincoln might very well faint when he lays eyes on her.
“You are stunning, O”.
Bellamy nods at your side and Nyko´s eyes reflect the smile on your lips.
“It´s not too much?”, Octavia asks and fiddles a little with the fabric of the dress.
“You look perfect”.
Now, you can't help yourself. Your eyes fall on the blonde, even though she is turned away from you and all you can see in her profile. You too, that is what you want to say. What you can´t say. Because it´s not fair, not to you or her. Nothing seems fair about the two of you, starting with the fact that there´s no you, there are only Raven and Clarke and nothing in between.
Still, it doesn't change the fact that her beauty beats all the stars and the moon.
“She´s right”, Bellamy agrees and Octavia´s cheeks flush with the slightest hint of red. “Shall we?”, he asks and Octavia is quick to nod.
“Yes, let´s get this show on the road”.
You scoff with that same smile still lingering on your lips.
Clarke turns back forward and those blue eyes of her lands right on yours, but they only stay there for a split second before flickering down to your mouth and just as quickly up to your eyes again.
It's almost as if she's asking you something, so you give her the only answer you can bear - a nod.
(When the music starts and Bellamy has you on his arm, you have to force a smile as you walk down the aisle.)
(She stole the real one. Just like that.)
--
2:30pm
Immanuel Kant once said that the rules for happiness were to have something to do, someone to love and something to hope for. Up until this point in your life you've tried your best to live without two of those three rules. The only one you took to your heart was to keep yourself occupied, to the level of extreme. But. Standing in the grand hallway of the hotel, watching the smiles, listing to the laughter, all of which are shared between friends and family, makes you think that you can find happiness. Even without… that. You did find something resembling happiness in London, working for Wick at Plan B, living under the same roof as Harper and then moving out to get your own place (although never missing to get a coffee with her at the local coffee shop every Sunday), listening to Atom and Murphy bickering about soccer, teasing Miller. All of that, all of them, provides you with joy and happiness.
You´re surfacing from your thoughts as Octavia breaks out of the crowd, clad as before and now also with a ring on her finger that shimmers in the sunlight. Behind her Lincoln´s laughing with eyes glowing with joy. That same joy still lingers in Octavia's as she stops next to you, arms barely brushing yours.
“Hey, I wanted to talk to you earlier but meh-”, she says and you look at her when she stops, what you find is her gaze looking back into the crowd. When you follow it, something draws a sigh out of you. It doesn't hurt as much now as it did this morning. Or maybe you're simply growing numb to the pain. “Clarke”.
“What did you wanna talk about?”, you ask and turn your eyes back to her.
“That thing that happened last night”. You knit your eyebrows together, unsure of what she´s insinuating. The look on her face as she begins to speak again answers that question. “I'm so so sorry that they cornered you with that whole date thing”.
“O-”.
“No, listen to me. I´m really sorry I didn't tell her, but I thought that if I did she wouldn´t get over it. She needed to move on and if she thought that you had a reason to be somewhere else, with someone, then she could stop thinking about you”. As Octavia finishes her shoulders fall back into a somewhat relaxing position, you hadn't even noticed that she was tense, and she exhales heavily.
“I know”, you tell her. “You did the right thing”.
She nods. Perhaps out of relief. But tension grows visible around her mouth and with it a frown on her forehead. You watch her for a moment, but then your eyes are drawn back to the happiness taking place in the crowd. When she breaks the momentary silence, she does it with an unexpected set of words.
(One out of three. That was what you had, then something… changes as if a flip is turned on.)
(And something that feels like hope crawls out of the darkness somewhere inside your core.)
“That's the thing. I´m not so sure about that anymore”.
“What?”, you reply and she looks a little confused as if she can't decide on whether or not to tell you but then she opens her mouth to answer.
Your eyes search through here without luck and when she leans forward they are interrupted.
“Come on you two, it's picture time”, Bellamy yells and as the two turn your eyes towards him you find that the crowd is gathering into a somewhat organized group. Octavia hasn't given you an answer yet, so you jerk your gaze back to her, but she´s already on her way over to her husband.
Husband.
That is a word you'll have to get used to.
--
11:50pm
You found a way to escape the talk, the looks and all the people. If it wasn't for the smell of wax agent for the floors you'd be able to close your eyes and just float away, back to your own apartment, your own bed or even to the office at Plan B. You don't want to run or escape it all, just for a moment or two. Still, leaning back in one of the armchairs in the lobby gives you a chance to just breathe. Since you arrived you´ve walked around with this awkward feeling of everyone just waiting for something to happen, like one of you would snap or cause a scene. Which isn't something you´d do. You´ve grown. You´ve gotten better.
You have changed.
Just not enough to be able to say that you don´t feel something still.
Thinking of London though, that is a whole other problem. It´s always in the back of your head and the more you try to ignore it you feel guilty for not giving a straight answer.
“Hey. How are you doing?”.
You peek up through under heavy eyelids to see Bellamy standing in front of you, hands in the front pockets of his pants, the few top buttons unbuttoned and a tired smile on his lips.
“I´m not drunk enough. Does that answer your question?”. He hums in response as he slumps down into the chair across from you. “It feels weird being back here”, you tell him and his eyes stray away from yours.
"Why don't you call it 'home' anymore?".
Your lip is worried in between your teeth. You wonder, how many times you can hurt the people in your life without breaking yourself in half by doing so.
(You'll know soon enough.)
"Because I don't know where my home is", you answer and Bellamy leans in over his knees, hands clasped, eyes dark with thoughts, thoughts you can´t unravel.
(If you only knew that all he wants to do is to jerk you up and out of that chair and shake some sense into you.)
(You wouldn´t mind him doing so.)
When he breathes out you can only wait until he speaks because God knows you can´t. And so he does and it's another slap to your face. "It's with the people who love you, Raven".
"Yeah, and I got a few of those in London too. More than I got here".
That's not true.
It should be said. But maybe it makes no difference now. So you say nothing at all.
(You'll hate yourself for that later.)
//
9:24am
You paint thin and short lines, carefully connecting them with each stroke. At the corner of your eye, you form the lines into a discreet wing, almost non-existent before you go back and smudge out some of the unevenness. As you step back for a final look you pull your phone out of your back pocket. Your eyes are framed with that same eyeliner you used yesterday, only this time it's much more casual. You used a shade of brown eye-shadow to bring out the deepness of the green in your eyes and the thin tones of bronze that hide within that green dark colour. It looks good.
Appropriate.
You laugh a little because this isn't normal. Normally you wouldn't look this natural at a social event, but it seemed like today was a good day to try it out. It will fit the occasion, you think for yourself as you lean in towards the mirror again to inspect the line of the other eye again.
Simultaneously you unlock the phone and dial the third-speed dial number. As the tones go through you leave the bathroom, heading for the bedroom which of course is a mess. Clothes cover the floor and the bed, leaving but only a small track for you to try and place your feet on as you make your way over to the other side of the room.
"Hi", Clarke answers with a yawn after a couple of signals. You smile without scoffing at the obvious tone in her voice. Tired and nervous don't blend well together. Especially when you know for a fact that Clarke is neither, on a normal day that is but since this isn't one.
"I'll pick up coffee on the way over".
She moans on the other end which makes your lips quirk up. "You're my saviour".
"I could get used to that nickname", you say as you pinch the phone between your ear and shoulder while searching through your jewellery box. You know for a fact that you put that necklace in here. Clarke snickers in the background after hearing you grunt with irritation. Your fingers hook around the silver necklace with that miniature rune hanging from it. It's supposed to signify strength. To you it only holds memories of long nights spent sitting at the dock, feet jiggling over the edge, soft laughter and nose bumping kisses.
Maybe that is strength too in an emotional way.
"Do you need anything else?", you ask as you hold the necklace up in front of you. It's as beautiful as the day you unwrapped that little box and found it in it.
(It holds more strength than you would ever admit openly.)
(More strength than she could possibly imagine.)
Clarke breathes out heavily, for a moment you're almost certain that she'll start crying (which wouldn't be surprising after her breakdown last night), but then she says, "only you", and her voice is clear from tears and sobs.
She'll be okay. No matter what happens, she'll be okay. You know it.
"I'll be there at 10", you answer with a tender smile playing over your mouth.
”Okay, see you soon”.
“Sure will”.
You put the phone back into your back pocket. Your eyes are still on the necklace, it´s cold in your hand but slowly heating up to your body temperature in your palm.
“Love is not weakness”, you murmur and the words are familiar to you, but the last time they came from another set of lips and sounded a lot sweeter, less fragile, less needy. The silent fuck that leaves your tongue is louder than an orchestra within your ribcage as the rune finds its place hanging around your neck.
(Today you feel nothing of that strength.)
--
11:00am
You notice the tension. The way Clarke´s shoulders never really relax.
No one else among the guest is probably watching the two bridesmaids as intensely and often as you, but you have your reasons.
So you catch the way their eyes meet and lock for a moment when Raven turns to let Clarke hold the bride bouquet.
Or, how they both jerk their hands away after their fingers touch when Clarke reaches for the bouquet.
Everyone else is busy clapping and howling at the newlyweds as they exit the church hall, but you are watching the blonde as she fixes her gaze to the floor when following Raven out and nothing about her feels right.
(You ignore the vibrations coming from your pocket throughout the whole ceremony.)
(You should know better.)
--
9:30pm
When you offered to be Clarke´s plus one, this wasn't what you expected to be a part of. The few weddings you've been to have been good, most of the time was spent wishing the newlywed happiness and success in their future years in many toasts. Your family have always been big on speeches and talking overall (which you undeniably inherited), so you expected something similar to that and a lot of food (like come on, it´s Lincoln and Octavia, of course, there was going to be piles of food).
This however is a feast.
It started as something beautiful and graceful. Lincoln shares many of his traits with the rest of his family - his calm, discipline, genuine friendliness and most of all his kind eyes - and they all seemed over the moon happy to finally get to meet Lincoln's friends. He however presented you all as an extended family rather than a group of strangers that somehow became friends. You recognized more people than you thought you would, probably because some of them came from the same background as you. It was nice to feel like that again like you had a connection to home in that way that history and tradition can make you feel.
Perhaps that is why Lincoln and you connected rather quickly when you first met.
You´ve talked to Raven a fair bit. She's just as interesting and unique as the others made her out to be. Well, even more so when your blood isn't boiling with anger. You can´t be angry at her though, you know that, so that's why you sat down with her at the end of the dinner and just talked. Raven is a mix of fire and stone - passion and set values. She is also kind, witty and undeniably put under the weight of many responsibilities. After a couple of minutes of talking, sharing your background as she shares hers, you could definitely understand what made Clarke fall for her. But also what made her depend on the stability that is Raven Reyes. You can´t imagine what life must have put her through, whatever it was or were Raven certainly turned into someone who has her feet on the ground and keeps her heart out of reach from curious hands.
That's where you are different.
(But oh so the same.)
Most of Lincoln's family dropped off after dinner considering that most of them had children to tuck into bed, the ones reminding are in the same age as the rest of you and just as willing to turn up the music and share a few more drinks. A few too many more if you're being honest. So now that beautiful and graceful, well it's still beautiful but less graceful, has turned into an extraordinary Saturday night out.
The night is still young when you're all crowded around the bar sipping on a variation of drinks. For once you're happy you didn´t take the car because now you definitely don't have a reason to not let loose. Both Clarke and you need it. You´re not sure who needs it more anymore though. Clarke orders another round of shots and her eyes are slowly becoming glassed over a little bit more by each round. It's vodka. It tastes awful and she laughs quietly at the face you make as you put down the glass.
"Never have I ever!".
Not a second goes by before most of them answer, "no", in unison.
"Come one, it's sort of a tradition", Jasper argues, pouting as you turn around. Clarke shakes her head at your side before she too turns around to lean against the bar.
You hide the amused smile lingering on your lips behind your glass of gin and tonic after taking another sip.
(This is going to be a long night.)
"Fine, Jasper. You start", Lincoln gives in and you can see Octavia elbow him in the ribs in the corner of your eye.
"Never have I ever been to a wedding".
Everyone drinks, but not without shooting him looks of annoyance.
"Lame. Never have I ever cheated", Penn huffs as he puffs up his chest. He seems to be the one other person out of Lincoln´s many cousins that also have tied the knot, and he wears his ring with dignity and pride.
Finn drinks immediately and you furrow your brows at the sight. After him, Clarke follows. She won't look up from the glass after putting it back down, fingers fiddling around it in the lack of a table to put it down on. That too confuses you for a moment, but then it falls into place and your eyes flash with sympathy.
"Lexa, your turn", Jasper tells you and you put on a focused face as you search in your mind for a reply.
"Never have I ever... seen the Four-Faced Liar".
"Wait, the movie or the tower?", Nyko asks with his glass raised towards you.
"Either works".
You hear someone mumble a silent what and a teasing smile pulls at the corners of your lips.
"Never have I ever had a foursome".
It's thrown out into the air followed by a chuckle. You can't place the voice, probably because of the slight slur to it, which in itself eliminates all of Clarke's friends. It´s probably one of Lincoln's younger cousins, one that still thinks that he can get in on some at the end of the night if he just can figure out who´s the easiest to get into bed. Poor thing. You shake your head at it, meanwhile, the younger men in the group seem to find it incredibly funny to imagine the possibility of it happening. Poor things.
(This is one of the moments you'll remember long after you leave the reception.)
Raven is the first one to drink. All eyes turn to her and there's a gasp hanging in the air, but no one says anything about it. Clarke´s face is stoic, but you can feel the tension radiating from her body and there´s something very fragile in the way her hand brush against your hip before she hides it behind her, but you catch the glimpse of it turning into a fist in the corner of your eye. There's definitely a difference between thinking that the one you love to share one of their most intimate moments with someone they love and that they let more than one person see them at that moment. You take a sip casually without the slightest hesitation and with it, you attract Clarke's and Octavia's eyes. Which quickly ends up being everyone's surprised stares.
"What", Clarke sputters and you shrug your shoulders.
You take another sip of your drink and when the glass leaves your lips you shrug your shoulders as if this is the least interesting thing in the world.
"We all have vices Clarke. Mine happen to be beautiful women", you say and she huffs. "And sex with beautiful women".
(Jasper might have gulped at that. Octavia however eyed you up and down a few times before turning her gaze towards Clarke, but she couldn´t find an answer in either of your eyes.)
"Suppose I've gathered that much", Clarke says with a click of her tongue.
"Darling, it was never a secret", you tell her with a wink and she laughs quietly, cheeks blushing and eyes glistening.
God, you love that laughter.
(You don't bother about the suspicious looks the two of you draw to yourselves.)
All you care about is the pinkish colour of Clarke's cheeks when she comes down from laughing and meets your eyes fully. (Well, you do care about something else as well but you'll never own up to it). She'll be okay, you think. She'll be okay, you know it.
(You can´t say the same about yourself.)
(When you break eye contact your eyes find Raven´s and you can't see how something has broken in them.)
--
11:15pm
You're good at ignoring things. Especially the kind that you don't want to deal with. But life has taught you that all of those things will eventually come knocking on your door if you don't choose to deal with them when you have the opportunity. That's why you're standing here now. One hand clutching to your side with a handful of your dress caught in it, and the other holding on to the phone too hard, knuckles white, eyes shaded with too many memories. You're good at ignoring things.
You´ve never been good at ignoring her.
Raven appears as out of the air, so you quickly force your lungs to take in a new breath and press down the tears caused by frustration back down into the void in your chest as you lower your hand. Maybe you should be angrier than you are about her lurking around and obviously listening in on your conversation, but to be honest, you're preoccupied with other thoughts and emotions.
"Hey, was that Trigdaleng?", she asks and you are caught off guard by her question.
"Trigedasleng. Do you speak it?".
"No, but I know someone who does", she replies and you look at her in surprise, arms coming up to fold over your chest.
"Really? It's not that common. What's their name?".
"She's not from around here. And her name is Anya", Raven replies and your eyes widen at the name.
"You're serious? Anya?", you repeat and Raven nods slightly, face scrunching up into a confused expression. "Anya Stonehill?".
"Yes?".
"She's my cousin", you laugh.
"No kidding".
"Wait, how do you know her?".
Raven opens her mouth to answer but then closes it again. You watch her stare back at you before she shrugs her shoulders casually. "I just do", she says and walks away before you can ask her anything else.
But you don't need her to say anything else.
"Aha", you mumble to yourself as you unlock your phone and quickly send a message to the other side of the Atlantic.
Lexa (11:45pm): you're unbelievable
Anya (11:47pm): what have I done now?
Lexa (11:47pm): only hooked up with Clarke's bff
Anya (11:49pm): wait go back, who are we talking about?
Lexa (11:53pm): Raven Reyes
Anya (11:54pm): oh right the bad as with a bumped leg, she's good
Anya (11:54pm): she's really really good
Lexa (11:57pm): please tell me you're not dating her
Anya (11:57pm): dating??? you´ve gone mad
You laugh, mostly at the situation. But it quickly fades as the phone starts to vibrate once again as her name flashes bright over the screen.
You´re not good at ignoring the things that hurt you.
//
9:55am
It´s torture.
Worse than that even.
You thought that today would feel okay, even after your little meltdown last night, but see, being in the same room as the one person that makes your heart literally want to jump out of your chest at each glance (really, can a pair of eyes be deeper) is far from okay. If things couldn't get worse, you're crammed into this room for the whole morning getting ready and her changing in front of you, eyes darting up to meet yours (or more like catching you on staring at her, making you turn away with the shell of your ears turning flaming red) and all you want is to be here and all you desperately need is to be with her.
The night was spent dreaming of that day.
Of the kiss and the consuming desire you felt for her at that moment and long after she ran out of you. Feel. The desire you feel for her.
When Bellamy came into your room to get Octavia and you out of bed, he woke you upright at the moment something tiny and heated rumbled through your body. Luckily neither he nor Octavia noticed the way your cheeks flushed and how you rushed into the bathroom. A cold shower didn´t wash you clean of the memory or dream of two lips making you beg for more and then giving you exactly that.
You thought that this weekend could work out okay, that if you focused on being there for Lincoln and Octavia you wouldn´t have time to think about her, but the more time you spend around her the more you feel the emptiness she left behind in your heart. That same emptiness that has been tugging and pulling at your insides, trying to get your attention, forcing you to carry that day with you.
(How could you not have known what that tug meant earlier?)
Lexa´s phone call is ultimately the only thing that brings you back down to earth. Back to not having to look everywhere but where your eyes are drawn. To her.
(After to end the call, it is you that catch Raven staring at you - lips pressed together in the right line and those eyes immediately shooting away from yours.)
You count the minutes to when she'll get here, pacing around the room while Raven´s busy helping Octavia with the last few touch-ups with her hair. The glances she shoots you in the mirror makes your chest feel small, or maybe your heart too big.
It´s beyond confusing how she makes your blood buzz when only a couple of hours ago she made you cry yourself to sleep, suppressing your sobs by stuffing your face down into your pillow to make sure that Octavia wouldn´t hear you. Still, your body seems to remember how it used to be, and it's almost like hers does too because you move around each other without having to say a word. As if there hasn't been over a year since you lived together and got to know each and every single one of one another's habits. You have exchanged only small words, commentaries on Octavia's makeup or dress, still words wouldn't be enough to explain the tension in the room.
(The small smile lingering on Octavia´s lips is a testament to how ridiculous this is.)
(That smile is only a cover.)
The knock on the door makes Raven move over to cover Octavia from prying eyes.
“Yes?”, you call out and step up to the door, ready to jump on it if Lincoln would by any chance actually be the one knocking.
“It´s me”, a voice filled with warmth answer.
And your chest is relieved from the tightness.
As you open the door you almost believe that you hear a silent sigh behind you, but you couldn't care less because two green eyes meet yours.
“I love you”, you breathe as you throw your arms around Lexa and pulls her into your embrace. She laughs against the crook of your neck, lips brushing over the skin and then pull back with a lingering smile on her mouth.
“I know. Double espresso to you. O, a small latte”, she says as she hands you the takeaway cup and then steps into the room.
“You´re the best”, Octavia answers as she receives a cup of her own. You leave the door on ajar but turn around as you put the cup to your lips and lets your mouth fill with the wonderfully bitter taste of newly brewed coffee. To your surprise, or rather lack thereof, Lexa walks over to Octavia´s other side. To Raven. Her hand reaches out and in it is the third cup. “Raven, I got one for you too”.
The coffee burns your tongue, but you can't stop watching what´s happening in front of you. There's no need to say it - Lexa dislikes Raven just as much as Raven apparently dislikes Lexa - the way they look at each other is enough. Reasons why are something you haven't wrapped your mind around just yet, at least why Raven would feel anything like that towards Lexa.
“No, thank you”.
Octavia scoffs and whips her head around. “Oh don´t tell me you´ve quit coffee for tea?”, she replies to Raven´s answer and can finally swallow. Your hand falls slowly, just as slowly as Raven´s shoulders sag as she breathes out.
“Alright, it´s here anyway if you change your mind”, Lexa says and puts the cup down on the table in front of the mirror. She saves a second look over at Raven before turning back to you. “I got to go. You look beautiful”. She makes you smile and when she's at your side she turns around. “And Octavia, if Lincoln by any chance faints up there, can I take his place?”.
Octavia laughs, with a relieved smile lingering on her lips. “Thanks, Lex”.
“No problem. And Clarke”.
She turns her attention back to you and you fall into those green eyes.
“Yeah?”.
Her nose crinkles, just like it does when she's about to grin well too big for her own wellbeing. Then she leans into you, hands touching your arms light, making your own hands come up to hold onto her, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“Breathe”.
(If only she knew how hard that is.)
(If only she knew that as soon as she leaves the room and brown eyes meet blue ones, setting off a wave of mixed emotions, breathing is out of the question.)
As she leaves and closes the door as she goes, you catch Raven looking at you. This time she doesn´t look away as quickly as before. Maybe she holds your gaze for more than five seconds, less than what your heart desperately craves as it thumbs against your ribcage trying to get out. Yeah. The taste of air has never been as repulsing as it is at this moment.
(Maybe you haven't done much of that this last year at all.)
It's ten to eleven when you find yourself leaning against the wall just outside the doors, doors that are still closed but will open in ten minutes. Hands hid behind your back so no one will notice how much they are shaking, eyes to the floor to keep you from looking straight forward and right at her, stomach fluttering with excitement and nerves, chest cramped and vibrating with tension as you force down another breath.
“Hey”, Bellamy says as he falls into your side, arm reaching to hook with yours. He tugs gently at you until you learn more fully into his side, lips brushing against your hairline. “You doing alright?”.
(He´s been watching you for five minutes.)
(Whatever you answer, he knows the truth.)
You nod before you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “I'm fine”, you tell him. But. His brow hitches and his eyes are too kind, too friendly and sweet. And he knows. You exhale heavily and squeeze his arm. A small smile touches his lips and your head falls to his shoulder. He always knows. “Ask me later, okay”.
“Okay”.
--
6:00pm
The atmosphere in the dining hall is beyond uplifting. Every single person that you've met today have been so nice and happy. More than that, everyone seems to think that this day couldn't have come any later. Octavia has made an impression on Lincoln's family, especially his parents who both clearly adore her. It makes you grin to think about it, the thought that little ass-kicking Octavia can make people like Lincoln's parents light up with such joy. She sure is fierce, but even more lovely and kind. Those are the traits that people fall in love with, the others are those they'll learn to appreciate when they are put in distress or threatening situations and Octavia comes to their rescue. She's strong like that. More than she probably knows.
You slink around the corner, out of reach from any noise. Well until you don't have to raise your voice to be heard. Only then do you pull your phone out of your purse. You flip through the contacts until you reach ‘J’. After dialling the number you lean back against the cold wall and close your eyes as the first, second and third signal go through
”Hey you”.
“Hi”, you breathe, a smile touching your lips. “So, I´m calling as I promised”.
”Yeah. You're getting better at this, Wells answers and you can hear the lightness to his voice. He´s right - you're getting better with calling him. You talk almost twice a week nowadays. It´s easier now too, his voice does still remind you of home and your father, but it doesn't send shivers down your spine anymore. Aren't you at a wedding? You should be drinking and dancing.
“Well, we always talk at this time so”, you argue and he scoffs on the other end. “What's you're up to?”.
When you come back into the dining hall your eyes (almost sarcastically) land on black hair and dark eyes. Raven's face is glowing with joy, laughter spilling from her lips in that pure way that reaches her eyes. It almost diminishes all of the hurt that lays within them. Your own lips pull up at the sight of her, of her happiness, and you don't feel the slightest bit bad about it.
The quiet beating of your heart quickens at that moment but settles back into its normal rhythm when your eyes fall from her face.
(You almost believe it - that things can be better - but just almost.)
(That beating heart of yours is already filled with smouldering hope.)
--
10:45pm
Finn comes walking towards you, fingers fumbling to unbutton the button on his blazer, round on his feet he stops just in front of you and reaches out with his hand. “Can I have this dance?”, he asks.
The two of you have barely talked all day. Not that you've been avoiding him. Not really anyway. You miss him. Being with him. Walking around town, talking about nothing, watching the people on the street from your table at The Busy Bean through that painted window. So when you look at him now, hand reaching out, eyes kind, hair messy after dancing like a lunatic with Jasper and Monty earlier, you take it.
“Yes”.
The music has slowed down, so Finn pulls you in and holds you close enough for your chests to flush together every once in and while. His left hand on your lower back is firm and stops you from stepping out of his arms, the other is holding your right one in a gentle grip. You can feel the muscles of his shoulder move, how every tug and pull makes them shift when he steers you in one way or another in a slow waltz. He´s good at leading, you´ll have to give him that.
“So, what do I need to know”, he says suddenly and your head jerk up. You immediately notice the way his straw from yours and the way his lips are pressed together.
“What are you talking about?”.
“Come on Clarke, I have eyes, I can see the way you look at her”.
“Finn-”, you start but he interrupts you and those eyes of his, the ones that used to look at you with warmth and love, almost pierce through you as they look on yours.
“Just tell me. Is it true?”.
“Is what true?”.
He laughs hollowly with his head whipping to the side. Your stomach tightens at his behaviour and you try to push away from him in the next step, but he pulls you even closer. Then, he looks back at you. His voice is cold, bitter, puncturing when he finally answers you. “That you fucked her”.
First you wonder who he's talking about.
(It doesn't matter.)
Then you put one and two together and you realize that he can't be talking about any other than her.
(Which makes you squirm with anger.)
“Excuse you?”.
You refuse to move and he doesn't try to force you, even though his hands are still on you and holding you tight. Much too tight then you´d like. He says nothing. Only stares at you, as if he believes that he can drag the answer he wants out of you with his bare eyes. Only, you don't have an answer and even if you did you wouldn´t give him the pleasure of knowing it.
His fingers press into the small of your back and his lips part as you resist his attempt to pull you impossibly closer to his body.
Bellamy appears by your side in a blink of an eye and Finn immediately lets you step back. The heart in your chest beats heavy with distress and your hands clutch into fists at your sides. You don´t run. You don´t. Even though you would like to get as far away as possible from Finn at this moment. Bellamy reaches out to you, fingers brushing against your wrist gently without trying to grab you. “Clarke, would you mind?”, he asks and your eyes jerk up to him. When he nods relief fills your chest.
You let out a trembling exhale. "Please".
“I do mind, thank you very much”, Finn cuts in.
The shift in Bellamy's eyes is visible and when he turns them towards Finn tension contours them.
“I think you're done, Finn”, Bellamy says and steps in front of him, giving Finn his back.
Your eyes stay on Bell's, almost as you're trying to absorb his calm through eye contact until Finn walks away muttering under his breath. He leaves and your eyes flutter close for a second. The thought hasn't occurred to you before, mostly because you were trying to not feel anything at all or at the best not what hurt to feel, but hearing Finn´s anger takes a toll on your thoughts. As if in a flashback you remember the night you came to him and practically forced yourself on him, how you just needed to feel but not feel and the only person that could make that possible for you was him, and then how he told you that it wouldn't happen again. When he said it all those weeks ago you thought it was because he was moving on, that he didn't want to get involved with your crazy anymore. Maybe, just maybe it was because he couldn't be with you anymore. Maybe, he felt just as hurt being with you as you do being around Raven. And now when she´s here he´s reminded of it too, of how you walked away.
Bell turns his head to watch him go, scoffing before he returns to watching you. Only, your eyes have fallen to the floor. “You okay? Clarke”, he tries and you hear him, but you don't hear him because your head is suddenly filled with moss.
You shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind.
“What?”, you ask him.
“I asked if you were okay”. Once again, you hear his voice but the words fall into blackness. “What is it?”. You´ve been so hurt. And you have hurt others too. “Clarke?”, Bellamy's voice finds its way through the blackness and you jolt back into your own skin. His eyes are on yours, searching as they flicker over your face and back to your eyes.
“I need a minute”, you mumble as you turn around and start to walk away from him.
You only make it a couple of steps before you feel pressure over the small of your back and then the shape of your hand gently steering you out of the room. When you don't step away from the touch Bellamy pulls you to his side as he walks you to the far end of the hall.
"Together".
“Thank you”, you breathe the words heavily and he nods encouragingly.
He stays by your side until you´ve gotten yourself out of your head, careful not to let his hands leave either your back or arm, and you didn't know that you needed him as much as you do.
(It´s a lie - you've known for months and months.)
--
Bellamy walks you back in, one arm securing you to his side and your head on his shoulder in an awkward position, but all you need is to be close to him for a moment longer. He stops just within the doors and you look up to him, to find his eyes softening and your eyes follow his.
Lexa.
She has her hands down folded behind her, eyes looking you up and down just like they did yesterday after dinner and you love her. She´s wearing a blazer, probably provided by one of Lincoln's cousins in hope of getting closer to her. (Boys tend to do that around her - hope for more than she'll ever give them). You love the way she understands without asking. How she steps up to you, relieving Bellamy from his duty. Maybe that should make you feel worse - for being watched. But. All that you are is grateful for having friends, for having a family, that knows you enough to see through your walls.
Bellamy exhales heavily and you lift your head off of his shoulder, his eyes find yours and they make you soften too. “Let me know if you need anything. Both of you”, he says and places a kiss on your head.
“I got her”.
Both Bellamy and you turn to Lexa at that. Bellamy nods, but his arms around your waist holds you tighter, then he walks away leaving Lexa to take his place.
Her face is stoic, but those eyes of her are mirrors to all of her emotions and right now they are worried crazy. “You okay?”, she asks and you know better than to lie to her.
You can't lie to her.
“No. But I will be?”.
It's not meant as a question, but it puts a small smile on her lips. And maybe that can be enough for now. She leans her forehead against your temple and breathes out, her breath tickling your neck and cheek. Yeah, this is definitely enough.
“Yeah, you'll be okay”, she whispers and you are starting to believe her.
(You´ve finally found someone who's more stubborn than you.)
You feel her frown before you see it before you see her phone flashing bright between your bodies as she pulls it out of the pocket of the blazer. The thoughtful lines forming on her face worry you and you reach out to lace your fingers together with hers.
“How long?”.
She sighs and looks up from the screen. You know that face all too well. “All day”, she says and it sounds like a confession. Perhaps it is one this time.
“Lex”.
“I know. I´ll take care of it”.
She too places a kiss on your head before leaving your side, her fingers sliding over the screen before she lifts her hand to her ear, you hear her answering with a bothered tone to her voice before she disappears out of hearing range.
You need a drink.
--
11:38pm
“The third year is going to kick ass. Probably mine to start with”, Monty laughs and your lips form an easy smile. Monty then nods as his eyes flicker to something behind you, “hi Raven”, he exclaims.
When the name meets you turn your head to find Raven approaching the two of you. She meets your gaze for a moment, tongue reaching out to wet her lips and then her head turns around.
"So where's your date?", she asks, voice thick with disliking and lack of interest.
Monty excuses himself swiftly by mumbling something about getting another piece of cake. As he leaves Raven takes his place, swearing a little as she straightens out her legs. The motion is so familiar to you after all the times she used to come home after a long day or a night out and slump down into the couch, face wincing as she used to rub the pain away from her knee after taking off the brace. She hides it now - the pain. But you know it's there.
You fiddle with your napkin, eyes falling to your hand, stomach tightening with a kind of numbing feeling. You give it another minute before you take a deep breath and lift your gaze back up to meet Raven's brown one. She's beautiful. And you wonder if that will keep hurting as it does right now.
"Probably somewhere around here on the phone with her girlfriend", you finally answer and Raven's eyes go blank. The mix of emotions and thoughts are on dispel any in those brown and deep eyes, just before her face scrunch up into something that reminds you of her laughing her as off at Jeff Dunham. Which of course doesn't make any sense. But. It makes you laugh a little, that face has always made you laugh. "What's that look?".
She licks her lips, slowly, far too slowly for you to not look down at her lips. When her hand comes up to run through her hair you quickly jerk your eyes back up to hers. "I thought you and her...", she starts but the words die out and you have to pick up to pieces yourself.
"Oh, no, we, don't", you reply in between laughs. She actually looks relieved at that. Just as relieved as you felt when you found out that she wasn't dating anyone last night. "We're just friends. I didn't want to go alone, she offered to go with me”. She nods in understanding and a quiet falls over the two of you. You can feel it, the ache, the wanting to reach out and just touch her hand or knee, just feel her touch again. But you don't cross over that line. You can't. It wouldn't be right. “So here we are", you mumble when the silence becomes too much for you to handle.
"Please tell me that I'm not the only one thinking that this is rushed", she replies and you scoff without thinking.
"You're not”, you say and she hums. "I think it's rushed but honestly, they would have ended up here at some point anyway so why not now. They just love each other".
"Yeah, I do know".
It´s unsaid. Hell. What isn´t unsaid when it comes to the two of you. But, that sentence. Those four words are something else. They stir up something that feels old and new at the same time. They rip open a wound inside of you that could never close completely. And you draw for breath, even though your chest aches for something just as essential as air.
"Raven-".
"I heard about Finn and all that. I hope it wasn't because of-", she interrupts and you laugh hollowly as she mentions Finn´s name and then the words fall off of your tongue so easily it should frighten you.
"Of course it was because of that. Partially, at least. Mostly the lack of love I felt for him, but also the fact that you changed something".
You see the tension over her forehead, but it doesn't break out into a frown. Instead, she shakes her head and seems to reconsider how to reply to what you just said.
"What, what did I change?", she finally says and you don't laugh this time.
"Me. You changed me". Her eyes scan your own and you hope, wish, that she finds something, anything, that will earn you her forgiveness for driving her away, for being reckless with the friendship you had. But when you've started, you can´t stop. "I slept with him", you stutter and this time she leans back in her chair, tension moving from her face down through her neck until it has tensed up her shoulders. "With Finn. After the break-up", you explain.
As if it needed an explanation.
"Why?".
"I found out that you'd been home over New Year's".
That gives you the clearest reaction you've seen from her this far - a gasp.
It´s practically unnoticeable, but you catch the way she gulps afterwards. And when you do she looks away, giving you her cheek.
"You know, the only reason I came back was that you weren't going to be here", the look on her face makes you believe for a second that she didn't mean to say that, that it just slipped out, but the pain that vibrates in your core doesn't care about reasons (pain is pain just the same). "I couldn't face coming back here if I knew that you'd be around", she says and her head turns slowly until her eyes find yours again.
"Oh". That is the only thing that comes out of your mouth. But it isn't the only thing on your mind. “Do you still feel like that?", you ask and she breathes out heavily enough for the air to brush against your face.
When she leaves you with the quiet something cracks like you actually had something whole left inside of you.
(The next time you lay eyes on her, minutes after that conversation, she's ordering a second round of tequila.)