Chapter Text
A month into the school year.
Lexa was quiet, careful not to disturb the careful rise and fall of Clarke’s chest by waking her up this early, knowing full well the blonde wanted nothing to do with her morning hike. As much as Lexa enjoyed staying in bed and cuddling, she knew she had to be in peak physical condition for the coming season, particularly if she wanted a chance at beating Ryder. The month of September would be bustling and unkind. Classes, work, training, the opening game, and most importantly- Clarke’s birthday.
But the last part was a secret, for now.
As Lexa moved toward the edge of the bed, aware of how bare she was without any clothing, covered in hickeys, she smirked at the events of the evening prior.
And then she felt two familiar arms pull her right back down, ruining all of her covert efforts.
“Tryna sneak away after our night together?” Clarke mumbled sleepily, eyes slitted at Lexa, a wry smirk on her lips. “Walk of shame?”
Lexa grinned at the implication, leaning back down to wrap her arms around Clarke, savoring the feel of Clarke’s warmth. She hugged Clarke tightly, pressing a kiss to her golden crown of hair, smiling faintly at the scent of her conditioner. “I doubt anyone would leave after a night with you.” She quipped.
“Right, because my sexual prowess in unmatched.” Clarke grumbled, latching onto her girlfriend like a koala, unwilling to let go.
“I’d say you’re a fast learner.” Lexa replied coolly, gently rubbing Clarke’s side. “I’m sorry to have woken you up. I was just leaving for a quick jog and hike.”
Clarke groaned. “The one downside to dating an olympian goddess.” She felt up Lexa’s rock hard abs to make her point. “She loves the thrill of exercise more than she loves me.”
Lexa snorted. “Not likely.”
Clarke smirked. “Don’t think I can’t read your mind, Woods. You dream for a more athletic girlfriend every second of every day.”
Lexa frowned. “No, I don’t.”
“Really? A Running companion isn’t attractive to you?” Clarke drawled.
“More like a distraction. Besides, there are very few people who can keep up with me.” Lexa replied teasingly.
“Oh, man. I was going to suggest joining you, but…” She shook her head.
Lexa smiled softly. “I’d love to have your company.”
“Even if you have to slow down for me?”
“Clarke, you’re my girlfriend, there’s a difference. I’d walk hand in hand and take a leisurely stroll, if that’s what you wanted.”
“Damn. I hate how smooth you are.” Clarke groaned. “How am I supposed to say no to that?”
“You’re not?” Lexa tried cutely, and Clarke couldn’t resist.
“Fine, but don’t laugh at my speed. Raven and Octavia always did during gym class, back at Arkadia.” Clarke grumbled.
“Raven and Octavia aren’t madly in love with you ….I hope.”
“Lexa, I feel death.”
“You’re doing amazing.”
“I hate you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I wish you’d never walked into Niylah’s.”
“I’m so glad I did.”
“I wish you’d never asked me out.”
Lexa grinned, pinching Clarke’s butt, enjoying her view from behind (mainly there to give Clarke a helpful, boosting push every now and again). “A few more steps, Clarke.”
Clarke wheezed in response. “You do this every day? While I’m sleeping?”
“Oh, no.” Lexa shook her head. Before Clarke could respond, she added, “I do the next three trails as well. Sometimes with weights.”
Clarke stopped, and Lexa slipped an arm around her waist, walking beside her, as they stopped at the peak of the trail, atop the mountain. The view was magnificent. The haze of fog was just barely beginning to break, illuminated to a golden orange by the sun, hidden behind. The trees, the grass, the wildflowers all swayed in harmony with the cool breeze.
Clarke had to admit, it was beautiful.
“Do you like it?” Lexa asked gently, sitting down, tugging Clarke onto her lap.
“It’s…” Clarke was breathless, and not just because of the incline. “It’s breathtaking.”
“It helps me clear my head.” Lexa replied. “But it gets lonely pretty quickly up here. This could be our new flower field.” She suggested lightly.
“It could be...if I survive the climb every time.” Clarke replied mirthfully.
“I would just carry you.” Lexa quipped, wrapping her arms tightly around Clarke, and resting her chin on Clarke’s shoulder.
“You think we’re going to need another flower field?” Clarke sighed.
“I didn’t necessarily view it as a bad thing.” Lexa admitted. “It was cathartic.”
“Yeah, I really loved it there.” Clarke replied whimsically. “I remember the first time I found you there. You ditched class, and you weren’t answering my texts. We weren’t dating, but Lexa, I was terrified for you.”
Lexa gave her a little squeeze, humming in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry.” She murmured.
Clarke shook her head. “No, don’t be. I found you, and-”
“You told me that I wasn’t alone.” Lexa replied sharply. “I remember you held me, even though we hardly knew each other.”
“But we did.” Clarke insisted. “You were my missing half.”
Lexa smiled at the thought, kissing the dip between Clarke’s neck and shoulder. “Do you wonder what the next four years are going to be like?” She asked gently.
“Of course. I wonder what the rest of our lives are going to be like.” Clarke replied, feeling Lexa’s hands ghost over her stomach, wordlessly asking a question that required no answer, save for Clarke leaning back further into her embrace as a confirmation.
“We should leave soon.” Lexa sighed. “Classes will start, and we need time to shower.”
Clarke nodded, though she gently pushed Lexa back, so that she was fully laying on top of her, Lexa’s hands threading in her hair.
“You’re right. But just a few more minutes alone, together.”
Lexa leaned against the wall outside of the art building, Clarke pinned comfortably between her arms, Lexa already in her full uniform, drawing looks from every single passerby, it seemed.
“I almost missed dating the center of attention.” Clarke quipped playfully, arms lacing around Lexa’s neck.
“Not yet, but I will be.” Lexa replied, determined.
“And I was just getting comfortable with the idea of PDA.” Clarke tutted with a sigh.
Lexa smiled supportively, nuzzling Clarke affectionately.
Students were flooding in and out of the art building, all staring, some jealously, others just taking note, it seemed.
“If you don’t feel comfortable, I can behave.” Lexa reminded gently, though Clarke was already leaning up to capture her lips.
“And give people the impression you’re on the market?” Clarke snorted, her tone light and teasing. “As if.”
Lexa chuckled into their kiss, her arms moving from the wall to hug Clarke’s waist, pulling her flush against her.
A movement in the corner of Clarke’s vision caught her attention and she turned her head to the side, Lexa tracing her gaze.
Ilan, her art TA, was already moving into the building, waving at Clarke with a friendly wink.
Clarke could feel Lexa bristle ever so slightly, as she tightened her grip just barely past the point of recognition.
“Your art TA doesn’t look like an artist.” Lexa mumbled petulantly.
“What does an artist look like?” Clarke queried, glancing back at Lexa’s hardened gaze.
“Someone who spends all their time in the studio, and not the gym.” Lexa replied with the hint of a growl.
The whole thing sent Clarke off into a fit of laughter, that immediately melted Lexa’s frown off, and a smile bloomed on her full lips.
“Alexandria.” Clarke sighed, still shaking with laughter, clinging to Lexa. “I think everyone here knows your name, and exactly who you are. No one messes with the top dog. I think you’re safe, here.”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “I bet he’s a douche.”
Clarke grinned. “You’re the one who walks around the apartment in only your calvins with that pouty look and those washboard abs.”
Lexa grumbled something under her breath but blushed anyway. She let go of her teasing petulance and focused on Clarke’s gaze. “Can I take you out to lunch, today?”
Clarke feigned excitement. “Like...a date?” She stammered on purpose, teasing.
Lexa smirked. “Yes, Clarke, like a date.” She leaned forward, tugging softly at Clarke’s bottom lip, drawing a soft whimper from the blonde. “I guess I have a crush on you.”
Clarke grinned, stealing another quick peck from her lips. “I have a break at two-thirty.” She replied, more serious. “I expect an update on your rivalry with Ryder, okay?”
Lexa saluted. “Yes ma’am.”
It was satisfying to know that Lexa The Commander Woods took orders from her, and with a smile on her face, to boot.
“Love you.” Clarke murmured as they hugged tightly, as if going to war.
“I love you more Clarke Abigail Griffin!” Lexa announced over her shoulder, for all to hear, as she strode off to practice, all eyes trained on her and a blushing, retreating Clarke.
Clarke shuffled into the building, a stupid grin on her face as she pushed into the designated studio for class, happy to find Murphy waiting in his seat, looking particularly bored.
“Hey Murph.” Clarke nodded as she sat beside him. “How’s your morning?”
“Really weird!” Murphy feigned excitement, his voice comically rising an octave. “I just saw the head quarterback playing tonsil hockey with her artist girlfriend! In public! Could you imagine?”
Clarke blushed, hiding her face behind her bag. “I just miss her.” She defended. “She’s gone for the whole day.”
Murphy, contrary to what Clarke expected, just nodded. “I know.” He replied.
If anyone understood longing for their partner, it was John Murphy, who was as bonded to Emori as Clarke was to Lexa.
“Do you know what we’re doing today?” Clarke whispered, hurrying to brandish her supplies.
“Art, probably.” Murphy snorted.
“Seriously, Murphy.” Clarke rolled her eyes.
“Oh. Huh. Looks like we’re drawing our beloved TA shirtless.”
“Murphy, seriously.” Clarke snapped.
“Eyes up, Griffin.”
Oh. Well damn.
“I really didn't think he could get any douchier.” Murphy quipped. “You think you know a guy…Wow, he gives Woods a run for her money.”
Clarke scoffed, cheeks turning red at the thought. “Um, trust me, no he doesn’t.”
Ilan shifted into a new shirt, drawing the attention of just about everyone in the classroom. Everyone except Clarke and Murphy, who were thinking about Lexa’s ass, and setting something on fire for the fun of it, respectively.
“Alright, class.” Ilan spoke up, waking Clarke from her reverie. “Today I’ll be calling each of you up individually to discuss your last piece, and what we can do, objectively, to improve. Sound fair?”
“Sounds like a class I should’ve taken online.” Murphy grumbled, leaning back in his seat.
Clarke snickered silently, while Ilan began calling people up alphabetically. She turned to her bag, pulling out a rather beaten looking moleskine sketchbook.
“That looks old.” Murphy commented.
“It’s an old sketchbook from high school.” Clarke replied. “I actually started it at the end of junior year, and every time I felt a rush of inspiration, I added to it.”
Murphy nodded, holding the book, feeling the soft leather against his calloused fingertips. “May I?”
Clarke nodded, mindful of how respectful he was.
He flipped through, thumbing through the cream colored pages, until he paused at a section, still near the beginning.
“Your work started picking up here.” He noted.
Clarke blinked. “How do you know?”
“The quality is better.” Murphy replied. “The pages are a bit worn. It’s like someone breathed life into your work.”
Clarke blushed heavily, propping her head up on her arm. “I met Lexa that day.” She admitted, and Murphy shook his head knowingly.
“And that day?”
“She held me during an anxiety attack.”
“..Whoah, what’s this masterpiece?”
“That was new year’s eve.”
“And this?”
“Our first-”
“Don’t say it.” He grumbled.
“-I was going to say date.” Clarke replied with a wry smile.
“Oh. And this is still ongoing?” Murphy asked thoughtfully.
Clarke nodded. “It’s kind of become exclusively Lexa’s book. I only sketch in it when I’m particularly inspired by her.”
“Inspired?” Murphy queried.
“You know.” Clarke shrugged timidly. “Whenever she inspires rushes of feeling in me.”
“This sounds a little more like an addict’s diary than a sketchbook.”
“I’d say Lexa is the best kind of drug, but...that sounds a bit cliche.”
Before Murphy could agree, Clarke was called up to the front of the room, by Ilan, who glanced at her with a smile that he didn’t seem to match for every other student.
“If he feels you up, I’m telling Woods.” Murphy grumbled.
“Look who’s suddenly Lexa’s best friend.” Clarke smirked as she patted Murphy’s back, rising to go and meet the TA.
“Clarke.” Ilan smiled, white and pearly. “I bet you can already guess what I have to say about your work.”
“...It looked like it was done at 3 am with little to no sleep?” Clarke queried, half teasing, half actually nervous that he didn’t find it up to snuff.
Well, she and Lexa technically hadn’t gotten much sleep the week prior.
...Her TA didn’t need to know the details.
“Hah.” Ilan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You have the highest grade in the class by far. You know that.”
“I...do?” Clarke raised a brow. “I mean, we’re only a few weeks in-”
“Clarke.” Ilan cut her off. “Do you ever believe that your work is just...good?”
Clarke blinked, taken aback. “I...Well, yes, but…”
“Great.” He paused. “You know, I heard you came here per Dante Wallace’s recommendation, back in Arkadia.”
Clarke looked dumbfounded. “...I did. You know him?”
Ilan smiled. “Who hasn’t heard of him? He’s kind of art’s equivalent to Beyonce.”
Clarke snorted. “That’s...an interesting analogy.”
Ilan smirked. “You know, Dante’s opened up a new gallery in the city. It’s attracting hundreds of renowned artists every day.”
Clarke perked up. “Oh my god, yeah! The Mountain, right? He named it after Mt. Weather-”
“-Academy. Yeah.” Ilan nodded. “Looks like you did your homework. I knew I was right about you.” He preened.
“Right about me?” Clarke blinked. “What does this have to do with me, exactly?” She asked, rubbing the back of her neck in confusion.
“So recently, Dante reached out to some students, to help him run things, internship-kind of jobs. I was selected to be the manager, and I get to pick a select few to help me run things and maintain them, select new pieces for the galas, that sort of thing.”
Clarke’s eyes were blown wide with surprise. “...And you want me to help you?”
Ilan smirked. “Not just help...work for me. Pay, benefits, everything. And I’ll be flexible, so it won’t mix with your class hours. What do you say?”
“I’d love to.” Clarke blurted out, heart hammering in her chest. Oh, god, this was it! This was everything she’d ever dreamed of, and in her first year of college? Her father had to have been proud, looking down on that moment. And Abby? Clarke couldn’t wait to call her and tell her the news. And Lexa! Lexa would be thrilled!
“Cool.” Ilan smiled. “You’re uh...kinda shaking.”
“It’s just...an honor.” Clarke shook her head, thanking him wordlessly. “I just...I hope things work out with Lexa.”
Ilan cocked a brow. “Lexa Woods? Quarterback protege?”
“My girlfriend.” Clarke clarified. “The girl I was, um, kissing...earlier.”
“Right.” Ilan frowned. “Wait, what do you mean you hope it works out with her?”
Clarke balked. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean our relationship. I just...She has a crazy busy schedule, and I like to be available for her…”She trailed off as she realized how pathetic she sounded. “Nevermind. I’ll uh...email you about it?”
Ilan smiled, ripping a sticky note from the desk, scribbling his number on it. “Better yet, text me.”
“Right. Thanks.” Clarke grabbed the paper and turned around, making a mad dash for Murphy, but mostly, her phone.
Her insides were tingling with a strange feeling.
Murphy snorted as he looked up and found Clarke clutching the paper, picking up her phone. “Dying to add his digits in and send him some pics?” He teased. He knew damn well why she was itching to get to her phone.
“I have to text Lexa.” Clarke waved him off with a blissful grin. Lexa was going to be so proud of her.
She just hoped it wouldn’t put too much time between them, as things were already getting harder and harder with Lexa’s busy schedule.
She opened up their messages, firing off a quick:
Hey baby! You’ll never guess what happened to me!
I can’t wait to see you for lunch. I love you so much.
It was warm and comforting to know, despite everyone who’d told Clarke pursuing art (And by extension, her dreams) was a mistake, Lexa would be ecstatic to share her happiness.
Stretched and invigorated after dropping her girlfriend off at her class, Lexa was more than ready for a day of practice, drills, and utterly demolishing Ryder.
Lexa was competitive, sure, a trait instilled in her by her parents―as little as they’d been around to instill anything in her―and cultivated throughout her years of sports, rigorous academics, and a general desire to be better than her peers. Since her first practice, Sterling introducing her to their teammates, she’d known that Ryder was the man she needed to beat.
Plus, he was a total, complete jackass.
From the moment the practice started, he’d had it out for Lexa. Granted, she’d expected this, since she was the rookie freshman―a girl , no less, and some men were still stuck in the 1800s―and after his position. She’d been battered, jostled, and bruised, but damn if she wasn’t going to exceed expectations just to spite him.
Coach Davis, for his part, also seemed somewhat fed-up with Ryder’s power plays and poorly disguised sexism.
Around halfway through tackling drills, another player came jogging onto the field, helmet hanging in his hand. His hair was blonde and curly and his blue eyes bright, and Lexa was immediately reminded of the lovely girlfriend she had waiting for her after practice let out.
If Ryder didn’t keep practice late, she thought vindictively.
“When I was told we had a late start,” Ryder’s voice echoed over the resting team, a few breathing heavily, “I didn’t think you meant late to practice, Wissing .”
“Sorry,” the newcomer apologized with a half-hearted grin, “there was a―”
“No excuses,” Ryder snapped, “laps, ten of them. Go.” He cast a disdainful glance in Lexa’s direction. “When you’re done, you can partner up with Woods, seeing as you two have so much in common.”
His mouth curled around the words as though they hid a double meaning Lexa couldn’t quite catch, and the other boy, Wissing, colored, before nodding and setting off on his assigned laps.
“Fucking testosterone,” Lexa muttered under her breath, wiping at her brow before continuing with the drills laid out for them.
“Ease up, dude,” Artigas wheezed, hands on his knees. Even he, the fastest member of their team, was winded, “don’t want us to choke at the game because you buried us all six feet under.”
“Don’t you think that should be my decision to make, being captain?” Ryder shot back, eyes narrowed.
“Stop being an ass and get back to drills!” Davis yelled over the clamour. “Ryder, ease up or I’ll have you run across the field with Michaelson tied to your back.”
The need for males to jockey for alpha position, in Lexa’s opinion, was quite frankly ridiculous.
Not that she ever threw herself into such competitions and always came out on top.
No, never.
That’s a lie and you know it, a sing-song voice in her ear that sounded suspiciously like Clarke chimed, you’re the most alpha personality here and you know it.
Which was partly why Lexa was so annoyed. She wasn’t used to being the powerless newcomer, wasn’t used to getting bossed around, wasn’t used to not being in charge of things. She’d grown accustomed to commanding power, attention, being the leader and paving the way. Being on the other end of it was exceedingly annoying.
“Alright, let’s go!” Davis called. “Shirts and skins, boys.” He shot Lexa a small grin. “And Woods. Ryder, pick the teams.”
“Woods, you can be a skin,” he leered, and several of the other fresh recruits in the back whooped and whistled, to which Davis threatened laps, “you too, Wissing.”
The others who had somehow managed to piss Ryder off during the extent of their practice also ended up on the skins team, including an exasperated Artigas and an incensed Sterling.
“I’m Lexa,” she introduced to Wissing as she shucked her shirt off, revealing her goddess-level physique for all to see.
“Luke,” he responded, grinning as he shook her hand, “guess asshat just really hates people with the initials LW, huh?”
“AW,” Lexa corrected with a shrug, “but close enough.”
Luke pealed his sweat-stained shirt off over his head and threw it on the quickly-growing pile of clothes and soiled towels on the bench. Underneath his pecs was a defined, if a bit faded, long scar that wrapped across the entire front of his chest. Suddenly, Ryder’s earlier digs made sense, and Lexa’s blood boiled.
“Let’s kick his ass, yeah?” Lexa prompted, and the rest of her team―because there was no doubt, now, that she was in charge―nodded, eager to upshow Ryder after his lackluster behavior. “I’ll call the plays.”
From the first snap, it was like going to war.
Though they were supposed to be a team, working in tandem and supporting one another, Ryder’s obsession with power had split them into fractions, and the competition was just as fierce as it would have been against a rival.
Lexa’s team was ahead by quite a few points when Ryder finally snapped.
Literally.
In a move reminiscent to the time Ontari had sent her brother crashing into Lexa, one of the bigger players on the team―colloquially dubbed ‘ Big Guy ’, very creatively―charged at her at Ryder’s command, and Lexa was only spared by her quick reflexes and Luke’s warning.
The sharp trill of the whistle interrupted before any damage could be done.
“What were you thinking!” Davis roared, eyes alight. “This is your team , Ryder, and you’re trying to pummel one of our best players!”
“She isn’t even that good,” Ryder brushed off, bristling, “too hyped up.”
“Oh, so not only are you an idiot, but you’re a blind idiot,” Davis scoffed, “Woods has more raw talent in her pinkie finger than you have in your entire body, Johnson , consider yourself off first-string and you can kiss your captaincy goodbye.”
Ryder stood still for a long moment before he spun sharply on his heel, only to meet Luke’s innocent, unassuming leg, stumbling forward and falling on his face with little grace.
“Whoops,” Luke apologized entirely unapologetically, “my bad.”
By this time, Ryder’s face was an ugly purple color, and Lexa fought the urge to cheer when he stormed off the field. Wait till I tell Clarke about this.
“Clean up,” Davis sighed, shaking his head, “Sterling, you’ll be taking over captaincy until our rookie here proves herself. Woods?” Lexa turned to look at him. “Don’t let me down.”
“Of course not, coach,” Lexa agreed with a small smile.
“Now get out of my field, I need to get to tea time with my girls.”
Freshly showered and new clothes donned, Lexa walked out of the girl’s locker rooms with a wide grin spread across her face. She fished her phone out of her bag and unlocked it quickly, smiling when she saw Clarke’s text notification.
Hey baby! You’ll never guess what happened!
I can’t wait to see you for lunch. I love you so much.
Knowing you it’s probably something spectacular.
I have news too, but let me hear about yours first.
Love you too baby :*
Though they’d been dating for almost a year, Lexa never failed to feel the same small rush of exhilaration when she saw her girlfriend typing away, butterflies flying around in her stomach. She often wondered if they’d ever leave the cute, butterfly stage of their relationship, but it was hard to not be utterly enamored when the person she was dating also happened to be her best friend.
You remember Dante Wallace?
The guy in charge of your scholarship? Of course.
She also remembered, very clearly, his asshole of a son, but didn’t want to sully Clarke’s excitement by bringing up Cage Wallace.
Well, he’s opening an art gallery here called The Mountain.
After Mt. Weather?
Yeah, exactly (conceited much? lol)
But anyways, he spoke to Ilan about taking on some students as interns.
!!!!
Ilan invited me to join personally!!!!
I’m so excited!!!
That’s fantastic baby! I’m so proud of you :)
My favorite artist, moving up in the world.
Lexa still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about Clarke’s TA, though she supposed she was just wary of any people who looked at her girlfriend for a little too long. Not that she blamed them, Clarke was gorgeous, but Lexa was oddly territorial sometimes.
I love you so much.
You’re perfect.
!!!!
I can’t wait to start I’m gonna learn so much!
So what’s your news?
Lexa grinned at the very memory of it.
I kicked Ryder’s ass.
He’s been removed from first-string.
Captaincy here I come.
Lexa! That’s amazing! Knew you could do it.
The commander bows to no one.
Except her lovely girlfriend of course ;)
You know it, babe.
Omw to pick you up and romance you.
Oh thank god I’m famished.
I thought you were Clarke?
Ur sex privelleges just got provoked u dork.
Lexa grinned when she strolled up to the art classroom she’d left Clarke in, stomach doing the somersaults it always did when she saw the ethereal beauty she’d gotten so lucky as to call her girlfriend.
“Hey baby,” she greeted, smiling when Clarke pressed their lips together, “missed you.”
“Missed you more,” Clarke insisted, eyes alight.
“You were seperated, for like, an hour,” a familiar voice drawled from behind them, and Lexa took a moment to flip Murphy off before recapturing Clarke’s lips in another kiss.
“Fuck you, Woods.”
“You aren’t my type,” Lexa brushed off once she and Clarke parted, her arm moving to wrap around Clarke’s waist comfortably, “and I wouldn’t want to get in a fight with Emori.”
“Damn right you wouldn’t,” Murphy scoffed, “she’d kick your ass.”
Lexa hummed in lieu of a response, pulling Clarke closer to her side.
“We’re going to get lunch,” Clarke reported faithfully, snuggled into Lexa contentedly. Murphy raised an eyebrow before following them.
“You can be gay later,” he huffed at Lexa when she rolled her eyes at him, “after you feed me.”
“Who says I’m buying your food?”
“Woods, after all the trauma you and Griffin have put me through, you kinda owe me.”
Clarke and Lexa had barely seen each other, with Clarke preparing for her job, while Lexa balanced work and intensive practices for her upcoming game.
Two weeks after their lunch meeting, Lexa’s opening game against some local university was rapidly approaching. Lexa spent more and more time at practice, and Clarke spent more and more time studying alone. And the two barely had any time to be with each other in a relaxed state.
That was, until the morning of the game.
Lexa was finally granted some rest, and to boot, their morning psychology lecture had been canceled.
Clarke was keen on enjoying every second with Lexa, relaxing her and pumping her up for the game, even though it was much later in the evening.
Even though Clarke was insistent on pampering Lexa, making sure each and every muscle in her body was relaxed, Lexa didn’t seem to care. She seemed more entranced with Clarke’s company, instead.
The girls had finally, finally gotten a chance to sleep in.
And, god, it was good.
Lexa was laying with her head on Clarke’s chest, breathing in deeply and blissfully as Clarke ran her hands through her hair, gently massaging her scalp.
Lexa’s fingers were tracing patterns against Clarke’s stomach, expressing her delight at Clarke’s presence and calming touch without words.
“You ready?” Clarke asked, voice gravelly with the weight of sleep.
“Yes.” Lexa answered softly. “As long as you’ll be there.”
“You’ve played games without me.” Clarke teased.
“You’re my good luck charm.” Lexa insisted.
“I will be right there in the stands, watching, cheering, and swooning over you.” Clarke insisted, hugging Lexa a bit tighter.
“Stands? No, you can get a seat near the bench.” Lexa insisted.
Clarke chuckled. “Baby, that was back at Arkadia, where the rules weren’t as strict, and you were already the star.”
“You don’t think I’m the star?” Lexa quipped.
“I think you’re my star. As far as the team, you’ve got some work ahead of you. But, with your playing...it’ll probably take a single game to convince the rest of the school.”
Lexa smirked, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s chest. “You make a good pep-talk.”
“What are best friends for?” Clarke replied teasingly.
“Lazy morning sex?” Lexa tried, lips grazing Clarke’s breasts over her sleep shirt, drawing a moan from the blonde, stiff peaks rising as a result, tented by her shirt.
“Lex.” Clarke fingers tugged slightly in her hair. “I thought you were supposed to take it easy, save your energy for the game.”
Lexa groaned. “I don’t want to hear another word about the game.” Her fingers ghosted Clarke’s side, leaving chills in their wake. “I want to make sweet, sweet love-”
Clarke’s phone rang out into the silence, prompting the blonde to stretch to reach it from the night stand. “It’s my mom.” She sighed, and Lexa paused, looking for direction. “...I can call her back.” Clarke pulled Lexa’s head towards her breasts, feeling hot need pool in her lower stomach.
Lexa nodded, slowly peeling at Clarke’s shirt, licking her lips in excitement for one of her favorite views.
Instead, her phone began blaring out, interrupting the sexy tension between them.
Clarke frowned, leaning over to Lexa’s side to grab it, Lexa still splayed out on her chest, waiting petulantly.
“...It’s my mom.” Clarke sighed. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Clarke, she called both of us.” Lexa smirked. “It’s okay, I’ll still be here.”
“Thanks.” Clarke retorted, rolling her eyes as she accepted the call. “Hey mom.”
“Clarke!” Abby’s voice was alight at the other end. “Oh, thank god you picked up.”
“What?” Clarke immediately stiffened. “Why? What’s wrong?”
At those words, Lexa stiffened as well, blinking up with worry.
“Nothing! I just need to speak with Lexa before her game!” Abby huffed in excitement. “Is she there? She’s not eating too much, I hope? And her knee, I know how it acts up-”
“She’s right here.” Clarke rolled her eyes to the high heavens, growling in annoyance, but it was tempered with a light sense of humor. “One sec.”
Clarke pressed the mute button momentarily, glancing at Lexa. “She’s your biggest fan.” Clarke grumbled. “She called to check in on her favorite player.”
Lexa smirked, pressing a wet kiss to Clarke’s stomach in response to her annoyance.
“Never thought this day would come.” Clarke mumbled, passing the phone to Lexa.
“Good morning, Abby.” Lexa’s voice was polite and chipper, and it made Clarke grin at her sudden change of pace.
“Hi honey, how’s my champion?”
Lexa grinned. “This is just the first game.”
Abby’s reply was quick. “Oh, we know.”
“We?” Lexa prodded amusedly.
“Oh, honey. Your mom, dad, brother, his boyfriend, Kane, Jaha, and even Niylah and her new boyfriend are coming over to watch it.”
“Oh.” Lexa blinked, sounding shocked, as if she hadn’t remembered that it’d be televised. “Wow, that’s-”
“The whole town is buzzing about you, sweetie. Marcus even spray painted Pauna in your colors.”
Lexa wheezed in surprise, while Clarke doubled over on the bed, snickering gleefully at all the attention Lexa was receiving.
“I just wanted to check in, and see how your knee was doing. It’s not acting up anymore, is it?” Abby asked, concern in her tone that made Lexa’s heart melt.
“No, thank you.” Lexa replied softly. “Just my nerves. Lots of pressure.”
“Oh, I just know you’ll be great. Your parents will likely call, I just wanted to make sure I spoke to you before work starts. We’re all rooting for you back home, okay? Love you, Lexa.”
“Love you too, Abby.” Lexa replied gently, disconnecting the call after a a few more words of farewell.
Clarke sat forward on her knees, wrapping her arms around Lexa, squeezing her comfortingly.
“Your mother is so sweet.” Lexa noted gently, leaning back into Clarke’s embrace.
“Never thought I’d hear you say that.” Clarke answered wryly. “To be fair, I never thought you’d end a phone call to Abby with “I love you” either, so…” Clarke drawled, tickling lightly at Lexa’s sides, eliciting a chuckle from her.
“It’s okay to be nervous.” Clarke whispered softly, hands slipping up Lexa’s shirt and running gently, soothingly along her abs.
“My parents are watching.” Lexa admitted shyly.
“They’ve seen you play before.” Clarke reminded.
“Yeah, but this...I mean, I’m trying to prove to them that it’s a viable career, if I choose not to work full time for the company.”
“Alexandria Anastasia Woods.” Clarke whispered soothingly. “Always challenging yourself, love. Well, I know you’re too stubborn to be dissuaded.”
Lexa smiled softly, toothily, feeling at ease with Clarke’s words and the soft lilt of her voice.
“But, I can assure you that no matter how you play, where you work, what you do, any of that…” Clarke began with a long breath. “I will still love you with exactly all of my heart.” She squeezed Lexa in her embrace, love dripping from each syllable.
Lexa blinked back the overwhelming emotions, wishing she could bury herself inside Clarke, her words, her warmth, her love, forever.
“...now.” Clarke drawled, lips pressing against Lexa’s shoulder. “Breakfast of champions?”
The pregame ritual of their tenure at Arkadia hadn’t changed a bit. It had all the same elements: Clarke, Lexa, a jar of eyeblack, an empty women’s locker room, and hushed whispers of affection, and reassurance.
Just, this time, a lot more nerves.
It was rather interesting to Clarke.
She’d never seen Lexa so...antsy. So unsure of herself. Where the girl’s chin would usually be up, her eyes holding a clear sheen of intensity, her thoughts clear as day- her gaze was down, her thoughts muddled, her face in the crook of Clarke’s neck, clinging to the girl.
Clarke knew how difficult it was for Lexa to be vulnerable with those around her. This was the ultimate trust, and Clarke knew better than to try and ameliorate it with with a bout of light joking.
“Hey, look at me.” Clarke suggested lightly, leaning back to cup Lexa’s chin, directing her gaze into Clarke’s.
Her mind flew to her days in high school, fresh after Jake’s death, after the incident.
She remembered her mind’s tendency to spiral, rapidly, uncontrollably, jumping from topic to topic, feeding off Clarke’s happiness, leaving behind the shell of the girl she normally was.
Her mind flew to one moment in particular, and one person.
She remembered the way Murphy, a fellow sufferer of post traumatic anxiety, had consoled her over and over again.
“Clarke, look at me.” He’d command, voice gentle.
“Lex, look at me.” Clarke repeated softly.
Green eyes met blue, nervous and unsure, so unlike their usual confident glimmer.
Clarke knew a lot of it had to do with her parents, with the added responsibility, with the lack of sleep.
“ I want you to clear your mind. I know it sounds hard, but it’s not, okay? Close your eyes.”
“I’m gonna help you relax.” Clarke soothed, softly rubbing Lexa’s temples. “Close your eyes, baby.”
Lexa obediently shut her eyes, trying her best to relax under Clarke’s grip.
“ Take a deep breath. It’s important to breathe.”
“Breathe- there you go, nice and deep, slowly, Lex. Perfect.”
“Clarke, tell me what you hear? List things.”
“Lexa, baby, tell me what you hear. Anything at all.”
Lexa took a breath, as directed, and began softly reciting things. “I...I hear the water, in the pipes.” Lexa noted. “I can hear...my own heart. God, that’s faster than usual.”
“Because of the game?” Clarke prodded softly.
“Or because you’re touching me.” Lexa quipped with a wry little ghost of a smile.
Clarke resisted the urge to roll her eyes, because that was a good sign. Her Lexa was coming back: playful, flirty, arrogant, but good-intentioned.
“I hear your breathing.” Lexa continued, eyes still closed. “You’re worried.”
“...Not about your performance.” Clarke admitted.
“The likelihood of me getting injured.” Lexa spoke sagely.
Clarke sighed. “Lex, these are bigger, older, scarier-”
Lexa smirked, cracking an eye open. “I know, Clarke.”
Clarke cupped her cheeks. “Be careful. That’s all. And if you ever feel like you’re lost out there, I’ll be in your corner.” Clarke reminded, placing a tender kiss on her lips.
Lexa smiled into the kiss, finally at ease. “I love you.” She whispered, as Clarke brandished the jar of eye-black, and a makeup brush.
“A brush?” Lexa quipped.
Clarke smirked. “I’m an official artist now, right? Might as well upgrade the way I operate, since you and I both seem to be going pro.”
Lexa grinned. “I am your canvas.” She bowed her head respectfully to further her point.
Clarke chuckled, dabbing her brush into the jar, noting how thick it was. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Commander Lexa. And no smart comments about me seeing her in the bedroom, Alexandria.”
Lexa fought the urge to laugh, holding still under Clarke’s touch.
“The world is going to fall in love with you, Lexa..” Clarke murmured, buried in thought as she dipped her brush down along regal, defined cheekbones, creating the teary mask that defined Lexa’s entire on-field persona.
The unspoken words died in her throat.
Just don’t forget me along the way, okay?
It was game time.
Clarke was enthralled by the sheer number of people lining Polis U’s local stadium. It was otherworldly, compared to Arkadia’s maximum turnout of about three thousand students.
People lined both sides of the stadium as it wrapped around the freshly maintained field, where the kickoff had just occurred.
Clarke felt small, insignificant somehow, as she leaned back into the comfort of Murphy, Emori, Lincoln, and Octavia, who’d all made it for Lexa’s first game.
While Lexa wasn’t exactly the prime star yet, she’d managed to land them all seats at the very front, as close to her bench as possible.
Clarke had taken in each of her players with a scrutinizing look. God, they were huge. They all looked as if they were built to lift a truck. Lexa, in all her muscled, goddess-like glory, looked like a mouse between them.
Or, she would have.
If her appearance didn’t look entirely vicious, commanding and sharp.
Clarke had never seen so many cut-out’s of Lexa’s head, masked in her war paint. Was that a thing? Cardboard cutouts of the player?
And the jerseys.
Clarke had seen nearly a thousand jerseys, black with a deep red trim, sporting “WOODS” across the back in bold lettering.
She was wearing Lexa’s actual away jersey, and felt pride, though it was a little petty, that she wasn’t wearing some knock-off.
Still, some people chose to don Ryder’s jersey, or Sterling’s, and a little less than half the stadium wore blue, the color of the rival team.
Lexa still had a lot to prove.
And damn, did she go to work.
From the minute of the kickoff, Lexa was summoned over Ryder, a choice that shocked a good amount of people. From over the sounds of Lincoln’s booming shouts and Octavia’s cheers, Clarke could hear Lexa barking out orders left and right, calling plays that she couldn’t fathom.
With every loss of yardage (though there weren’t many instances), Clarke found herself clenching the arm of whichever unfortunate soul was beside her. With ever touchdown made off a play Lexa had wisely chosen to run, Clarke would heave a sigh of relief and often lose herself, screaming Lexa’s name in the process.
But that was all part of the game.
What really stunned Clarke was just how many students were screaming even louder for the attention of her girlfriend, roaring their approval, shouting their support.
It was almost as if Lexa was an object of the public.
And Clarke didn’t like that.
She found it hard to focus on Abby’s excited texts of: “DID YOU SEE THAT?” or “THAT PASS, CLARKE, WOW”.
She found it hard to focus on Lincoln’s critical analysis of each play, which she usually found exceedingly insightful and helpful.
She found it difficult to laugh at Emori throwing popcorn at Murphy whenever he grumbled something about all the places he’d rather have been (and every just knew he was dying to support Lexa at heart).
Why?
Because Clarke had finally opened her eyes. Just beside her, two girls were wearing cropped versions of Lexa’s jersey that ended above the midriff, and they took photos of Lexa for snapchat and instagram, with captions Clarke could see, often too suggestive (read: crude) for her liking.
But all it took was one smirk from Octavia and a prod from Murphy in the form of, “Oh, is princess jealous of all the hearteyes Lexa is getting?”
Clarke huffed a quick, “What? Of course not.”
Because no girlfriend in her right mind would be upset with her partner’s success, right? That’d be selfish. And Clarke had grown. She wasn’t the insecure girl from Arkadia, anymore. She was her own person, independent of Lexa, and she didn’t get jealous anymore.
It was a crushing victory, in the end.
So when the game ended, and Lexa bounded over to lean against the wall where Clarke was waiting, she pretended not to be disappointed when Lexa was, instead, ambushed by the wannabe professionals that the school paper and news stations employed, Clarke seemingly forgotten, in lieu of an interview.
Better get used to it, Clarke. This is the way things are going to be.
Clarke didn’t notice Lexa’s eyes following her as she left with her scattered group of Delinquents to go get ice cream, seeing as Lexa wasn’t coming out anytime soon.
Clarke left.
“Lexa, what can we expect from you as far as the captaincy, moving forward?”
“I...that’s not up to me. That’s at Coach Davis’ discretion.”
“Do you expect to have it as a first-year player?”
“Is that really a fair question?” Lexa replied coolly, arrogantly, channeling her mother’s prowess when it came to avoiding questions that could frame her in a poor light.
“Anyone you’d like to say hi to?”
“Just my parents, my brother Aden, and my girlfriend, Clarke.” Lexa answered, wiping the sweat from her brow as she contemplated where on Earth Clarke could have gone. She always stayed to kiss Lexa after her game.
Lexa tried to stave off the betrayal she felt. She probably saw the cameras and got uncomfortable. Not everyone enjoys this, Lexa, don’t be selfish. She scolded herself, and before she could answer another question, she was swept up by Coach Davis and Sterling, who ushered her back into the tunnel, where the press couldn’t reach them any longer.
“Great game, kid, wonderful.” Davis adjusted his cap, chewing his gum thoughtfully. “You seem to know how to handle yourself around the parasites.”
Lexa quirked a brow. “My family is...used to it.” Lexa noted, feeling the post-game ache settle into her bones, now that her adrenaline was sapped.
“Right.” Davis nodded. “That’s what Sterling is here to talk to you about, before you go off and change. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”
He clapped Lexa on the back and Sterling jumped in. “Hey. First of all, great game. You look like a better prospect than Ryder already.”
Lexa smirked at that.
“...Just don’t let it go to your head.” Sterling chuckled at her expression. “Players come and go, the team is what matters. Think of every game like a test Woods.”
Lexa nodded, used to the pressure-talk. She desperately needed him to get to the point, so she could go see Clarke.
“So, as you noticed- you’re kind of a hot topic around here.” Sterling informed her. “You have a twitter handle, too.”
Lexa nodded. She’d already maintained some-thousand followers, just from being who she was, born into one of the wealthiest families around, and with their looks? An instant call to attention.
“So, word of advice- you’re gonna skyrocket, from here on out. Everything you do is under the public eye.”
Lexa nodded, blinking. “So you want me to set my accounts to private?”
“No!” Sterling laughed in surprise. “That’ll kill your momentum, Woods. But...think of yourself like a business.”
A business, and not a person. Lexa thought. How apropos.
“You want to attract as many followers as you can. Build yourself up, if you’re even thinking of looking at the pros. And hey, that’s a long shot. But despite every single odd against you, you’re here. So...word to the wise. Interact, with your fans. Be public, be open. But also, be smart? Get what I mean? If you’re gonna get shitfaced, don’t broadcast that.”
“Right.” Lexa droned.
“Alright. Cool.” Sterling grinned. “Good game. I’ll see you at practice?”
Lexa nodded, their hands clapping as they parted with what Clarke would fondly dub as a “bro hug”.
Clarke.
Lexa was somewhat unsettled as she set out to find her, Sterling’s words bouncing around in her brain.
Clarke was faithfully waiting for Lexa in her locker room, and Lexa’s worries dissipated as soon as she felt Clarke leap onto her, arms going around her neck as she peppered Lexa’s face with kisses.
So maybe she was just camera-shy. Lexa knew better than to confront it. She didn’t want to make Clarke feel like her social anxieties would ever be an issue in their relationship.
“Hi.” Lexa breathed, slightly stunned, as she felt Clarke kiss every inch of her face.
“Congratulations.” Clarke murmured, feeling Lexa’s arms tighten around her.
“Thank you.” Lexa beamed. “My good luck charm was there.”
Clarke smiled, warm and bright. She pushed down the creeping sentiment of, “Which one?”
She knew Lexa was referring to her. She couldn’t understand why she felt the way she did. She was what Lexa wanted. She was enough.
“So, all the nerves are gone?” Clarke asked caringly.
“Yes. I think it was just...first game jitters.” Lexa shrugged it off. She paused momentarily, setting Clarke down, cupping her cheeks. “Thank you, for believing in me.” She whispered.
Clarke’s eyes glimmered with genuine awe at Lexa’s loving gaze. “Always.” She murmured, turning her cheek to kiss Lexa’s hand, tenderly.
“Where are the others?” Lexa asked, moving to remove her jersey, leaving her in just her bra and shoulder pad above the torso.
Clarke licked her lips. “...Out.” She mumbled.
“Oh. Well, I’ll be quick with that shower.” Lexa replied, pulling her things out of her duffel bag.
“...Or….” Clarke shrugged innocently, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. “You and I could just...celebrate a little? You do remember what I promised if you won, right?”
Lexa paused, blinking rapidly. “I...um, I…”
Clarke suppressed a husky laugh. She loved how she could make the fierce Commander stumble over her words like a child.
“I want you to paint the insides of my thighs with that war paint, Commander.”
Lexa gaped, heart thumping in her chest, as Clarke tapped her shoulder, silently requesting to be held.
Lexa obliged, pulling her against her chest as she leaned back against the lockers, meeting Clarke’s lips in a hot, overly-charged kiss.
“I love you, Lex.” Clarke mumbled against her lips, feeling safe, once again, as the sole bearer of Lexa’s affections.
It sounded a lot like I’m sorry I overreacted.
She realized how ridiculous she was being in the heat of the moment, but confidence did not come easily to her. But that was what this year was about, wasn’t it? Growing, changing, re-affirming that she wasn’t Lexa, nor was she Lexa’s girl, but Clarke, her own person, with her own wants and needs.
It would take time, Clarke knew.
But with Lexa’s love, she could.
In the aftermath of Lexa’s victory, her fame was slowly but steadily rising, alongside her number of twitter followers.
Lexa had given Clarke a brief talk about her social media, giving her a quick update over breakfast one morning, while Clarke was still numb from a round of mindblowing wake-up sex.
So, maybe, the intensity of her words hadn’t exactly set it.
If Clarke had thought that dealing with her girlfriend being exceedingly popular in high school was bad, this magnified all her feelings of insecurity and insignificance tenfold. Of course, Lexa adored Clarke with every fibre of her being, and showered her with reassurances and compliments every time they were together, her lips soft on Clarke’s own and hands gentle.
When she was around, at least.
Clarke couldn’t blame Lexa at all for her absence. What with the rigor of college classes, football practices, and shaping up for the management position at her parents’ company, Lexa had her plate full. And Clarke, too, was kept busy with art and prepping for her new job alongside Ilan. Though a bit egotistical―as most men were―he seemed to have his heart in the right place, and her gratitude towards him was never-ending. It wasn’t often that a freshman in college was allowed to intern at the galleries of one of the most well-known people in the arts circles.
Dante Wallace just kept looking out for her, so it seemed.
In a rare moment of free time, sketching the familiar lines of Lexa’s jaw for an art project, Clarke smiled when her phone buzzed.
Lexa was at practice, without her phone, and Clarke found the source of the notification the smaller, blonder Woods sibling.
Clarke did you see???
Buzzfeed made a video on people reacting to Lex!
BUZZFEED, CLARKE. BUZZFEED
Aden’s excitement was palpable, and Clarke radiated with pride for her girlfriend.
No, I haven’t. Link me?
[attachment: 1 link]
Clarke it’s crazy.
She’s gotten like, a thousand more followers in the past couple hours.
Someone DM’ed me asking if I had pictures of her abs.
Clarke frowned at that bit.
Though Lexa had been popular in high school, most of the people who pined after her did so quietly and with the discretion of a hopeless, lovesick teenager. When it came to the internet, and specifically fame on the internet, people tended to be a lot more invasive, and much more bold.
Instead of freaking out about it, though, Clarke brushed her concerns aside.
How much harm could a few fangirls do, anyway?
Well did you? ;)
Ew no :p
I have pictures of my bf’s abs
But I don’t think she’d have appreciated
Don’t tell Lex I said that.
Pls
Clarke rolled her eyes fondly.
I won’t.
You’ll forever be a toddler in her eyes.
Aren’t you in class? Do your work.
But Trikru :(((
Aden Augustus
Fine :p
Clarke watched the video as she sketched, eyes drawn to the well-oiled form of her girlfriend gliding across the field, muscles moving gracefully as she displayed her absolute physical perfection, and was struck, suddenly, at how lucky she was to be able to call Lexa her own.
Hey baby.
I know ur at practice.
Just wanted to let you know that I’m so in love with you.
I’m so lucky.
Love you commander :* :* :*
Sure enough, just as Aden had faithfully reported, Lexa’s twitter followers had once more climbed. A few had strayed over to Clarke’s twitter, and she fought the urge to put her account on private. It was just a few strangers, she could handle them. Besides, being hidden from the eyes of the public just made them more interested in what they thought you were doing. When they saw her twitter was mainly comprised of jabs at the other delinquents’ stupidity and hearteye emojis at her girlfriend’s tweets, they’d get bored and move along.
I love you so so so much
Practice is running late, might not be home for dinner.
Will shower you in kisses when I get home.
And I’M the lucky one.
Clarke smiled at the response to her messages, though couldn’t help but feel slightly disheartened. Interruptions kept springing up on the limited time they had together, and she sent a quick text to Murphy asking him to come over.
By the time he’d made it, Clarke already had chinese delivered, and he wordlessly accepted a takeout box of lo mein and jabbed a potsticker with a chopstick.
“That’s barbaric,” Clarke huffed, nodding at his less than stellar chopstick abilities.
“I’m white, Griffin, I’m not supposed to know how to use these properly,” Murphy snarked over a mouthful of noodles. “Your lady lover still at practice?”
“Unfortunately,” Clarke huffed, poking at her fried rice moodily. “I don’t know how you do it. Lex leaves for two seconds and I feel so hopelessly lonely.”
“Lots of naps,” Murphy responded seriously, “and facetime, and Emori sends over sweaters.”
“I’m a mess,” Clarke groaned.
“A gay mess,” Murphy agreed, “college will be good for you two, Griffin, teach you how to be a little less co-dependent.”
“It’s just so hard ,” Clarke whined in a rare indulgence of self-pity, “I just want to be with her all the time.”
“That’s love for ya,” Murphy responded simply, stabbing another potsticker. “Does some crazy shit to you.”
“Amen to that,” Clarke agreed.
“So,” Murphy opened, “did you finish that shirtless portrait of our self-absorbed twat of a TA?” Clarke shoved his shoulder slightly and Murphy’s eyes narrowed when she then proceeded to grab for a potsticker, cradling the container to his chest protectively.
“You just pushed me,” he complained, “no greasy fake chinese goodness for you.”
Clarke took one anyways.
“He’s not that bad,” she said after she swallowed. Murphy raised a manicured eyebrow―the product of a spa day with Emori―and waited.
“Okay, maybe he’s a little self-absorbed,” Clarke consented, ignoring his utterance of, more like a lot , “but give him a chance! He did get me that internship, after all, and he seems like a nice guy.”
“I know plenty of nice guys who are absolute dickwads,” Murphy said, “I mean, take Bell for example. Shithead’s a menace.” His words were contradicted by the fond expression on his face, and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. “But seriously, dude gives me the creeps.”
“How so?”
“I dunno,” Murphy shrugged, holding the potstickers above his head as Clarke tried to make another grab for one, “just does.”
It was along Clarke’s walk, on the way home one friday, that she realized it was her birthday.
Yes. She’d forgotten her own birthday.
But, that didn’t seem to hurt the most. Clarke’s mom called her the night before, telling her she’d be on trauma call the following morning, and told her all of her loving sentiments ahead of time.
Clarke’s social media, though, was silent.
And in her rush for classes, she hadn’t checked her email to see the offers lined up for the special occasion from various companies and eateries.
But, Lexa?
It wasn’t like Alexandria Woods to forget her birthday.
In fact, Alexandria Woods remembered exactly how many days (And hours) it had been since they’d shared their first kiss.
But Lexa hadn’t said a word to Clarke. She was up and gone before Clarke was even awake, leaving a note and a little breakfast. They didn’t have psychology together, either, so Clarke didn’t see her there.
In fact, Lexa had texted her saying, “ Office after practice, I’ll be home late. I’ve ordered dinner for you. Love you to infinity .”
Clarke had given the screen of her phone a melancholy smile, and continued on with her day, as that was becoming the norm, these days.
She decided that she could have her own fun with Murphy, at the very least. Calling him up, she groaned when she heard the familiar monotone voice of the answering machine protocol.
Even Murphy had forgotten.
Clarke blinked back tears. Birthdays were unimportant , she lectured herself. She didn’t need to celebrate a non-achievement.
Or, so she told herself.
Clarke sadly ascended the stairs to their apartment, bag heavy, and heart heavier as she slid her key into the lock.
Clarke nearly had a fucking stroke when she opened the door and the lights blasted on, a chorus of “SURPRISE” shaking her to the core. Lexa smirked from near the light switch, holding her arms out to a shaky Clarke, who immediately began tearing up, her body shaking with laughter.
She was stupid, genuinely stupid, to have thought that “Lextra” Woods would forget her own girlfriend’s birthday.
And those voices- Bellamy, Octavia and Lincoln- Raven and Anya, Murphy-everyone who’d gone to school in the state (save for Bellamy) made an appearance.
At Lexa’s behest.
God, Clarke was so, so, so lucky.
“Clarke.” Lexa was chuckling softly, kissing her head. “Happy Birthday, my love.” She whispered in her ear.
“I...I thought you’d forgotten.” Clarke admitted lamely, clinging to Lexa’s shirt, ignoring her friends all around them. “I’m an idiot-”
“Shhh, no.” Lexa laughed genuinely, brightly, filling Clarke with joy. “It was all planned. It was very hard to resist cuddling with you and bringing out your cake this morning.”
Clarke laughed into Lexa’s shoulder, buried safely into her girlfriend’s arms. “Thank you.” she croaked. “I love you-”
“I love you to infinity.” Lexa mocked her text, grinning, placing a kiss to Clarke’s head. “I really do. And as much as I would love to hold you forever, I worked very hard to bring your friends together.”
“Oh, yeah.” Clarke blinked hazily, turning to find all of her friends snorting and chuckling with laughter at the success of their grand plan. “Hey...guys.”
Bellamy grinned and pulled her into one of his trademarked bear hugs, lifting her feet somewhat off the ground in his effort.
“Missed you, princess,” he grinned, “Woods sweet-talked my dean into letting me play hooky for a week.” Clarke shot Lexa a dazzling grin from Bellamy’s shoulder, to which the other girl responded with a small smile. It meant a lot to Clarke that, regardless of the problems Lexa might have had in the past, she had still gathered them all together for Clarke’s birthday.
Well, except for―
“Monty and Jas are kinda preoccupied being geniuses on the other side of the country, they send their apologies,” Raven cut in, squeezing her way between Clarke and Bellamy with a sharp jab to Bell’s side, “and some goodies.” She looked pointedly with her eyes towards a platter of brownies. “Missed you Griffster.”
“I missed you, too.”
After a round of hugs and reunions, they settled, catching up over food and alcohol, eerily reminiscent of their high school days, but without the chaos of Jasper trying to impress girls and Monty trying to rein him in.
Clarke snuggled into Lexa’s side, soaking up her company as she bantered with Bell and Raven. There was an air of familiarity to it, comfort, and she smiled from her position nestled in Lexa’s arms.
“God I forgot how much I hated being around you all,” Murphy grumbled, “obnoxious, the lot of you.”
“You know you missed us, Murph,” Bell grinned, arm slung over the sulking boy’s shoulders, “must be so boring around here, with just Woods and Griffin.”
“They traumatize me every single waking moment of my existence,” he deadpanned.
“That I don’t miss,” Raven consented, “all the sappy, lovey dovey grossness.”
“Like you and Ahn aren’t sappy,” Clarke accused, and Raven rolled her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to Anya’s cheek.
“We’re too badass for sappy,” Raven shrugged.
“Badass,” Anya agreed, and her look left no room for discussion.
Cake was served after a horrible rendition of happy birthday , because Bell’s singing voice in general left much to be desired, but with wine, because they were, to quote Raven, classy motherfuckers.
“I distinctly remember you chugging rocket fuel by the ladle a few days ago,” Anya hummed, and Raven rolled her eyes dramatically.
“That’s in the past, babe, we can’t focus on the past.”
“Oh, so not even―”
“Don’t even start, Griffin, I’ve got so much dirt on you.”
Even Lexa, with her insane, health-nut diet, indulged in a piece of cake in celebration of the anniversary of the birth of her favorite person in the entire world. As for Clarke, surrounded by her surrogate family and in the arms of her soulmate, with a stomach filled with cake and wine, she was at home.
The first month had been hectic, and she knew little of the mountains she and Lexa would have to climb as the year (and their lives) progressed.
But, in the words of the dearly departed Jake Griffin, who'd always preached “ Don't miss a shooting star because you're too busy looking at the road ahead”, Clarke snuggled just a bit closer to Lexa, and took a breath.
The road could wait.