Chapter Eight
Clarke stood in front of her mirror, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her dress. It was a deep navy blue, hugging her in all the right places without feeling too formal. She wanted to look good—really good—but she also wanted to feel like herself. The butterflies in her stomach had been going wild all evening, but she tried to ignore them as she reached for a pair of earrings.
Behind her, Raven sat perched on the edge of the bed, watching with an amused smirk. "Damn, Griffin. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were nervous."
Octavia, sprawled lazily across the bed, propped herself up on her elbows. "She totally is. Look at her, checking her reflection for the fifth time in, like, two minutes."
Clarke rolled her eyes but didn’t bother denying it. "I just want to make a good impression."
Raven snorted. "Pretty sure you already made an impression, babe. Lexa’s into you."
Clarke bit her lip, trying to suppress the ridiculous grin that threatened to take over her face. She turned back to the mirror, giving herself one last critical look before stepping away. "Okay, rules time."
Octavia groaned. "Here we go."
Clarke shot her a glare. "Luxtyn’s bedtime is ten o’clock, and yes, I know she’ll fight you on it, but at least try. No scary movies, no crazy amounts of sugar, and absolutely no sneaking out."
Raven held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, we got this. It’s not like we’re gonna throw some wild party while you’re out."
Clarke narrowed her eyes. "That’s exactly what someone planning something stupid would say."
Octavia grinned. "Define stupid."
Clarke groaned. "Octavia."
"Relax," Raven said with a laugh. "We’ll keep her alive and in one piece. And if anything does happen, we’ll text you."
"Or not," Octavia added under her breath.
Clarke pointed at her. "I heard that."
From the doorway, Luxtyn scoffed. "Mom. I’m thirteen, not a baby. I can take care of myself."
Clarke turned to face her daughter, crossing her arms. "Mmm-hmm. And that’s exactly why I have to give the speech. Because you’re thirteen, which means I know you’re gonna try and get away with something."
Luxtyn smirked. "Depends. What’s my cut if I tell you exactly what they’re planning?"
Raven gasped dramatically. "You little traitor!"
Octavia shook her head, grinning. "Smart kid."
Clarke chuckled, shaking her head before stepping toward Luxtyn and gently fixing one of her curls. "Just… be good, okay? I don’t want to come home and find out you guys recreated a scene from Fast and Furious in my living room."
Luxtyn rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you never let me have fun."
Clarke smirked. "That’s my job."
She grabbed her bag and keys before turning to Raven and Octavia. "You two better behave too."
"Of course," Raven said smoothly.
"As far as you know," Octavia added.
Clarke shot them both a glare before stepping toward the door. "I’ll be back later. Try not to burn my house down."
As soon as the front door shut behind her, Raven turned to Octavia with a smirk. "Sooo… popcorn, candy, and a movie Clarke definitely wouldn’t let Lux watch?"
Octavia grinned. "Obviously."
Luxtyn raised an eyebrow. "Make it two movies, and I won’t text my mom about it."
Raven snorted. "You drive a hard bargain, kid."
Octavia slung an arm around Luxtyn’s shoulders. "I think we’re gonna have a fun night."
And with that, they set their plan into motion, all while knowing Clarke would definitely not approve.
Clarke pulled into Lexa’s driveway, her heart beating just a little faster than usual. She had said her goodbyes to Luxtyn, who was happily settled in with Raven and Octavia for the night, her best friends both giving her knowing smirks as she left.
Now, standing at Lexa’s front door, she took a steadying breath before knocking. Within seconds, the door opened, revealing Lexa in a fitted dark sweater and jeans, her hair just slightly tousled.
Lexa’s lips curled into a soft smile as her eyes traveled over Clarke, taking in the effort she had put into her dress, the subtle makeup, the way her hair fell in loose waves.
“You look beautiful,” Lexa murmured, her voice warm and appreciative.
Clarke felt heat rise to her cheeks but smirked in return. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Lexa stepped aside, gesturing her in. “Come in. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Clarke stepped inside, inhaling the warm, inviting aroma of a home-cooked meal. The soft glow of candles on the dining table caught her attention, casting flickering shadows against the walls, and she felt her heart melt a little at the effort Lexa had put in.
“You went all out,” Clarke noted, setting down her bag and slipping off her coat.
Lexa smirked, moving back toward the kitchen. “Well, I do like to impress.”
Clarke followed her, watching as Lexa moved effortlessly around the kitchen, finishing up the last details of their meal. She leaned against the counter, stealing a glimpse of the wine Lexa had already set out.
“Impressed, yet?” Lexa teased, glancing up as she plated their food.
Clarke tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Hmm. I don’t know, Officer Woods. I might need to taste the food first before making my final judgment.”
Lexa chuckled as she handed Clarke her plate. “Then let’s eat.”
They settled at the table, the soft flicker of candlelight casting a warm, golden glow over the carefully set plates and glasses. The intimate setting only heightened the tension between them, a quiet anticipation thrumming beneath the surface. Clarke felt herself begin to relax, the nervous energy she’d carried all evening slowly melting away as conversation flowed effortlessly between them.
Lexa smirked as she took a sip of her wine, setting the glass down before teasing, "So, Ms. Griffin, how many times today did you have to stop your students from turning the art room into a disaster zone?"
Clarke let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "You don’t even want to know. One of my freshmen somehow managed to spill an entire jar of paint water all over their project—and their desk, and their clothes. And instead of fixing it, they just sat there and watched the mess spread, like it was some kind of art experiment."
Lexa chuckled, her green eyes dancing with amusement. "Sounds like they’re just embracing the creative process."
"That’s one way to put it," Clarke said, rolling her eyes. "I swear, some days I feel more like a babysitter than a teacher."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I had to deal with a guy who thought he could talk his way out of a speeding ticket by complimenting my eyes." Lexa smirked, shaking her head. "Points for creativity, I guess, but it didn’t work."
Clarke laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I bet he thought he was being smooth."
"Oh, he did," Lexa confirmed, taking another sip of wine. "But I don’t let flattery get in the way of the law."
Clarke raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smile. "Oh, so flattery doesn’t work on you at all?"
Lexa tilted her head slightly, considering her for a long moment. "Well," she murmured, voice dropping just enough to send a pleasant shiver down Clarke’s spine, "I suppose it depends on who's doing the flattering."
Clarke felt warmth bloom in her chest, her heart picking up pace under Lexa’s intense gaze. She reached for her wine glass, taking a slow sip before setting it down, trying to ground herself.
"This is really nice," Clarke admitted softly, glancing around at the effort Lexa had put into the evening—the candlelit table, the home-cooked meal, the careful attention to detail. "I know you probably didn’t have a lot of time to put all this together."
Lexa shrugged lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "It was worth it. I wanted tonight to be special." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Because you’re special to me."
Clarke felt her breath hitch slightly, the sincerity in Lexa’s voice settling deep in her chest.
Lexa’s gaze held hers, unwavering as she continued, "And I guess I just wanted to do something that showed you that."
Clarke felt her cheeks warm, a slow, genuine smile spreading across her face. "Well, you definitely succeeded."
Their eyes lingered on each other for a beat too long, the air between them thick with something unspoken yet deeply understood. Clarke felt her pulse quicken, anticipation humming beneath her skin.
Lexa smirked slightly, leaning back in her chair. "Not unless you count me being completely distracted by you," Lexa said smoothly.
Clarke bit her lip, shaking her head with amusement. "That was really cheesy."
Lexa grinned. "Maybe. But it’s also true."
Clarke could only shake her head, a laugh slipping from her lips as they continued to eat, conversation flowing effortlessly. The warmth between them only grew stronger, an undeniable pull that neither of them wanted to resist.
Halfway through the meal, Lexa leaned back slightly, swirling her wine in her glass. “So, I was thinking…”
Clarke raised a curious brow. “Dangerous.”
Lexa rolled her eyes, but a small, nervous smile played on her lips. “I’d like to meet Luxtyn. If you’re comfortable with it.”
Clarke blinked, a little surprised but not in a bad way. If anything, warmth spread through her at the thought of Lexa wanting to be a part of that part of her life.
“You really want to meet her?” Clarke asked, setting her fork down.
Lexa nodded, her expression sincere. “Of course. She’s your world, Clarke. If this…” she gestured between them, “…is going to mean something, I’d love to know her too. No rush, just when you’re ready.”
She hesitated for a moment before exhaling softly, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her wine glass. “And, I—" she paused, meeting Clarke’s gaze, “—I’d love for us to be something too. But I feel like I can’t ask for that—not without making sure that everyone important in your life would be okay with it. I don’t want to step on any toes.”
Clarke felt her heart squeeze. The way Lexa spoke about her daughter, the respect she had for Clarke’s boundaries, and now the careful way she was making sure not to rush things, made her fall just a little more in that moment.
“You want to be my girlfriend?” Clarke asked, her voice soft, touched with something undeniably warm.
Lexa let out a breathy chuckle, a little nervous but entirely sincere. “Yeah,” she admitted, shaking her head slightly. “I do. But I also know that your life isn’t just yours, it’s Luxtyn’s too. And Raven’s. And Octavia’s. I want to do this right.”
Clarke stared at her for a moment, overwhelmed in the best way possible. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing over Lexa’s hand. “That means more to me than I can put into words,” she said honestly. “You already are doing it right, Lex.”
Lexa’s lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just squeezed Clarke’s hand in return, a quiet understanding passing between them.
“I think she’d like you,” Clarke admitted softly, a small smile playing at her lips. “She’s a little firecracker, though. You sure you can handle that?”
Lexa smirked. “I think I can hold my own.”
Clarke laughed, shaking her head fondly. “Alright, Officer Woods. We’ll see.”
They finished dinner, conversation never wavering, and once the plates were cleared, Lexa led Clarke toward the couch.
“I have a surprise for you,” Lexa announced as she grabbed the remote.
Clarke narrowed her eyes. “A surprise?”
Lexa simply pressed play on the TV, and as soon as the familiar opening of Notting Hill started, Clarke gasped.
“No way,” she said, turning to Lexa with wide eyes. “How did you—?”
Lexa shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “You mentioned it was your favorite. Figured I’d earn some extra points tonight.”
Clarke’s heart swelled, and she bit her lip to keep from grinning too hard. “You are dangerously close to winning me over, Woods.”
Lexa smirked. “That was the plan.”
As Notting Hill played softly in the background, the flickering candlelight from their dinner cast a warm glow over the room. Clarke could feel the weight of Lexa’s gaze on her rather than the movie, and when she turned her head, her breath caught. Lexa wasn’t even pretending to watch anymore—her eyes were locked onto Clarke, filled with something intense and unspoken.
“You’re staring,” Clarke teased, a small smile playing on her lips.
Lexa smirked, but her voice was soft, sincere. “Can you blame me?”
Clarke felt her cheeks heat at the words, the way Lexa said them like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She didn’t have time to respond before Lexa reached out, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. The simple touch sent a shiver down Clarke’s spine.
Then, as if drawn together by something magnetic, they leaned in at the same time. The kiss started slow, a gentle press of lips, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Clarke sighed against Lexa’s mouth, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, and Lexa responded instantly, her hand sliding to cup Clarke’s jaw as their lips moved in sync.
The warmth of the moment quickly turned into something hotter, needier. Clarke shifted closer, her hand gripping Lexa’s thigh, and Lexa let out a quiet groan, her fingers slipping into Clarke’s hair, pulling her in deeper. The soft brush of tongues sent a pulse of heat straight through Clarke, and she pressed herself against Lexa, feeling the way their bodies fit together perfectly.
Lexa’s hands roamed, slow but deliberate, exploring the curves of Clarke’s body as they moved against each other on the couch. When Clarke shifted, straddling Lexa’s lap, a soft moan escaped her lips as Lexa’s hands settled on her hips, pulling her down firmly.
“Clarke,” Lexa murmured against her mouth, voice thick with desire.
The sound of her name like that, breathless and full of need, sent a thrill through Clarke. She rolled her hips experimentally, drinking in the way Lexa’s breath hitched, the sharp exhale against her lips.
“We should…” Lexa started, her voice uneven as Clarke kissed down the column of her throat, biting softly at her pulse point.
Clarke pulled back slightly, meeting Lexa’s gaze. “Go to your bed?” she offered, lips slightly swollen from kissing.
Lexa nodded, her grip tightening for a moment before she helped guide Clarke off her lap. Clarke took her hand, pulling her up from the couch, and together they made their way to Lexa’s bedroom, the tension between them thick and crackling.
The moment the door shut behind them, they were on each other again, lips crashing together, hands roaming with more urgency now. Lexa backed Clarke up toward the bed until the backs of Clarke’s knees hit the mattress. She fell onto it with a soft laugh, but it was cut short when Lexa climbed over her, slotting their bodies together seamlessly.
“You’re gorgeous,” Lexa whispered, her hands slipping under Clarke’s shirt, fingertips trailing over her bare skin, making Clarke arch into her touch.
“So are you,” Clarke murmured, reaching to tug Lexa’s shirt over her head.
Clarke took a moment to appreciate the sight before her, the toned lines of Lexa’s body, the way her dark hair framed her face. But then Lexa leaned down, capturing her lips again, and everything else melted away.
Clarke’s hands roamed, nails dragging lightly down Lexa’s back as their kisses grew more heated, more desperate. Clothes were removed piece by piece, tossed somewhere onto the floor, and soon, there was nothing between them but skin and heat.
Lexa kissed her way down Clarke’s body, taking her time, savoring every sound she pulled from Clarke’s lips. And when her lips finally traveled lower, Clarke gasped, fingers tangling in dark hair as pleasure crashed over her in waves.
The night was slow and intense, every touch deliberate, every kiss filled with meaning. It wasn’t just about the physical—it was about everything they had been building toward, the connection between them deepening with every shared breath, every whispered name, every moment where they fit together so perfectly it felt like they were made for this.
Much later, as Clarke lay curled against Lexa’s side, tangled in the sheets and still catching her breath, she realized something.
She hadn’t just fallen into bed with Lexa.
She had fallen for her.
And judging by the way Lexa was holding her, pressing the softest kisses to her temple as they lay in the dark, she was pretty sure Lexa felt the same.