Text Me No Secrets, Tell Me No Lies
The first time she notices it, they’re sitting on the sofa, sharing a blanket, while catching up on episodes of the Netflix series that they promised to only watch together. The muffled sound of rhythmic vibrations against the wooden coffee table, accompanied by the soft glow of the cell phone’s screen in the otherwise dark room, draws Clarke’s attention away from the television screen. Lexa leans over, grabs the phone, and smiles as she quickly types out a text before setting the phone back down on the table. Screen side down.
It happens several more times over the subsequent weeks, so much so, that Clarke’s anxiety is getting the best of her. Different times, different places, but always the same basic scenario. Lexa gets a call or text, her pretty pink lips curl into a curious little smirk, and when she’s done, she places her phone somewhere out of Clarke’s view. Words she doesn’t want to say (doesn’t want to acknowledge the possibility of) get stuck in her throat and it feels like she can’t breathe.
Clarke stuffs the negative feelings down as deep as she can, and tries to focus on their upcoming anniversary. Four years ago tomorrow, on Valentine’s Day, Lexa officially asked her to be her girlfriend. The memories warm her from the inside out, and she’s finally able to focus on something other than who is on the receiving end of Lexa’s phone.
The next day, after brunch at their favorite bistro downtown, they’re walking hand in hand down the sidewalk when it happens again. Lexa pulls her phone out of her pocket and her face beams, despite obviously trying to conceal the emotion. Without dropping Clarke’s hand, she types something out hastily, and stuffs the phone back in her pocket. Her smile lingers.
Clarke’s jealousy ignites and she roots her feet into the ground, grinding their forward movement down the path to a sudden stop. She drops Lexa’s hand and crosses her arms against her chest, out of anger or an act of self-preservation, she’s not quite sure which. Maybe both. The only thing she’s sure of is that Lexa is keeping secrets and that she feels incredibly disrespected by it.
“Who was that, Lex?” Her voice is stern and direct and a little too loud to go unnoticed by passersby. Lexa’s emerald eyes go wide despite the afternoon sun shining directly in her face, and her brows furrow in confusion. “Who are you talking about, Love?” The term of endearment only adds fuel to the fire of her jealousy. She’s thoroughly convinced Lexa is cheating. “Whoever it is that keeps texting you. That keeps making you smile,” she pauses as she swallows down some bile that’s bubbled up, “…making you smile at your phone the way you used to smile at me!”
She watches as Lexa takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, the realization that she’s not been as inconspicuous as previously thought written all over her face. She takes Clarke’s hand and coaxes her forward with some resistance, angry blue eyes boring a hole in the back of Lexa’s head. Lexa eventually leads her off the main sidewalk, into the entrance of the park. The one that has the glass conservatory at it’s center that they’ve visited at least a hundred times together. Curiosity now overtakes jealousy in Clarke’s mind.
Lexa hold’s open the door of the white Victorian structure, made entirely of glass and metal, and allows Clarke to enter first. They walk the well-known path to the center, where an elaborate fountain cascades into a koi pond. They’re completely surrounded by beautiful flowers in every color of the rainbow, greenery that rivals the shade of Lexa’s eyes, and butterflies that thrive year round. Clarke loves this place. They love this place.
With wonder in her eyes and an involuntary smile on her face, Clark admires her surroundings, until her eyes meet Lexa’s. She steels her features once more, “Why did you bring me here? What does any of this have to do with whoever you’ve been talking too?” Lexa momentarily recoils from the bite in Clarke’s voice, before softening and taking Clarke’s hands into her own. “Everything.”
On cue, their friends and love ones emerge from the greenery in every direction. Abby looks on adoringly, while she hold’s Marcus’ hand. Anya and Raven beam, as little Tris wiggles in Anya’s arms. Lincoln stands stoic, despite his tiny smirk, while Octavia hangs off his arm grinning wildly. Indra looks on approvingly, nodding her head in their direction.
The warmth of her hands in Lexa’s, radiates from her fingertips to her chest, and flushes to her cheeks until they grow pink. Lexa squeezes her hands, before taking a shaky breath. “It wasn’t easy getting everyone together at the same time, especially on Valentine’s Day, but I knew you’d want them here. I’ve been planning this for months.”
Clarke watches the bob in Lexa’s throat as she swallows hard and then lowers herself to one knee. “How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?” Lexa produces a small wooden box from her pocket and slowly tilts back the lid, revealing the diamond engagement ring of Clarke’s dreams. Clarke gasps and reflexively covers her gaping mouth with her right hand. “Clarke Griffin, will you marry me?”
Clarke bites her bottom lip and looks down into Lexa’s expectant gaze. A thought rushes into her head and she grins suspiciously as she reaches into her own pocket and produces her cell phone. She furiously types something one handed, hits send, and replaces the phone in her pocket. A split second later, Lexa’s text alert chimes. Lexa stands and takes her phone out, looks down at the screen, then back up at Clarke. Lexa pulls Clarke in and crashes their lips together, their bodies slotting into one another like pieces of a puzzle, and Clarke completely melts into the kiss. Once they reluctantly part for air, Lexa holds up her phone victoriously and declares for all present “She texted yes!”