Chapter 19
She comes to slowly.
She feels sore all over, a good kind of stretched.
Slipping out of bed in the dark unfamiliar room calls for some acrobatics. Not that she doesn’t feel comfortable, pressed against Lena in the narrow space (which is in itself surprising: she hasn’t shared a bed with anyone in so long, she’d have expected when asleep to shrink as far away as possible from contact). But she’s exhausted and sticky and a shower seems like the best of ideas. She lets her eyes linger: she can’t make much out in the darkness, yet Lena’s silhouette is enough to reignite last night’s want. The bed creaks under her careful movements. Lena sleeps on, her breathing deep and even. She manages to hunt down enough of her clothes and exits the room, closing the door as quietly as possible.
She spent the night with Lena.
Holy. Holy. Holy shit.
She would have never, in a million years, expected to ever utter such a sentence. For so many reasons. Including… anyway.
In the mirror, after her shower, she takes stock of the many marks left on her body: Lena’s apparently a biter and an enthusiastic one, at that. She’s going to have to be creative to hide some of these from the others, especially Natasha.
She tries to go about her usual routine, ignoring as best she can the recurring flashes of the previous night: Lena’s breathing in her ear, Lena’s nails digging into her sides, Lena’s thighs wrapping around her.
Fuck.
It’s not easy.
She skips her morning run, a decision she’s sure she’ll come to regret. Her phone reminds her 6AM is fast approaching: Lena’ll be up soon. She prepares her first caffeine kick of the day, the way she knows she likes it: a strong light roast with a nutty hint to it.
When she finally emerges, Lena looks drained, fresh makeup unable to conceal the shadows under her eyes. (Not to Alex at least.) And yet, she’s never been more beautiful.
So goddamn beautiful.
Alex pretends she wasn’t waiting around for her and feels foolish. There’s a slight hesitation, before Lena slides in on the other side of the kitchen island. She doesn’t want to read anything in the distance, but can’t help herself.
Their eyes lock, something soft is exchanged. Alex hands her her coffee, feeling nervous, out of her element.
Lena blows on it, takes a sip, closes her eyes and hums in approval. “Thank you.” She places the cup down and looks back up. “Alex…”
It’s all there in her tone, laid bare in her eyes. Alex has a pretty good idea of what’s coming and no desire whatsoever to participate in any of it.
She’s never been one to shy away from facing the music, but best to cut this short: “You don’t have to say it. I get it.” Her eyes dart nervously around the kitchen.
Because she does: she knows all the arguments, is grappling with them too. It’s just that… maybe, just maybe…
“No. I… I wish to explain” Lena insists with pleading eyes.
Yep, today’s irredeemably fucked. What a shame, considering the high she woke up to.
“Last night felt… Last night was really fun, Alex. I haven’t felt like this in… a very long time.”
Alex can hear the but come from a mile away.
“But between this” she gestures around them, “and L-Corp, neither you nor I have the luxury of indulging in… distractions” she looks at Alex apologetically, as if she too disagrees with the word’s implications. “– as enticing as they may be” she adds, with a small closed lip smile. “There’s too much that requires my undivided attention. Too much at stake. One single error in the calculations and Scott remains stuck in the quantum realm. One single mistake and we don’t get to make things right. I would never forgive myself. And I know you wouldn’t either.”
As let downs go, it’s a rather classy one (definitely beats that one time she got ghosted). She wonders if it’d hurt as much, if Lena weren’t so sweet about it . She kind of expected it all, yet it still bruises. If she were in a melodramatic mood (when is she ever), she’d go as far to say that it’s rather crushing, actually (good thing she isn’t and anyway, she’ll live). She reaches out, squeezes Lena’s wrist gently and is promptly cut off from what she was about to say by Scott.
(Because of course she is.)
He barges in, oblivious to the moment he just interrupted, and with his usual total lack of awareness, plops down for chitchat and a morning drink. Alex hates him a little bit then. Lena takes her leave with an apologetic glance back.
Alex’ mood takes a downturn from then onwards. She’s distracted and in a foul mood all day. Natasha doesn’t comment on the layers she’s wearing and destroys her in the ring – repeatedly, because Alex keeps on asking for more. Natasha eventually calls it a day, looking slightly worried.
“You’re sure you’re alright, Alex?”
She wipes the blood flowing from her nose off with the back of her hand, its taste bitter on her tongue: “Never better.”
She skips dinner and goes to bed early, feeling off. It’s Maggie all over again. Not when they broke up, no: when Maggie turned her down. This devastating crash after the highest of highs. Figuring herself out, putting a name to her feelings for Maggie, coming out to Kara and basking in her acceptance and love, drawing on all her inner strength to kiss Maggie, only to be let down. Worse: having to keep her composure throughout. She had felt so humiliated.
(Thank fuck they didn’t have sex in her room. Small mercies and all.)