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“Clarke.”
The snow fell around her, floating gently like little fluffs of magic.
“Clarke.”
The vast two-story mini-mansion loomed in front of her. Every window glowed golden and warm. Every inch of trim adorned with a twinkling light, meticulously placed and precisely symmetrical.
“Clarke.”
The soft murmur of merriment wafted around her as another person pushed open the great oak door.
“Clarke!”
Clarke shook her head, and a few flakes of not yet melted snow that clung to her perfectly styled hair fell to the ground. “What?”
“Are we going to stand out here all night? I’m freezing my tits off. And that’s a damn tragedy.” To prove her point, Octavia folded her arms under her chest, squeezing and lifting to prop her girls high on display.
“If you actually used your coat to keep warm and not just as a fashion piece, you wouldn’t be so cold,” Clarke chastised as she crossed her gloved hands over her wool coat.
“Or,” Octavia nodded towards the house. “You could suck up whatever drama you’ve got going on in that brain of yours, and we could go inside.”
Clarke’s shoulders rose and fell as she resigned to Octavia’s sound yet straightforward logic. She gave her friend a small smile and nodded her head. Octavia beamed, her smile excessively triumphant, borderline irritating as she led the way towards the front door.
The foyer was abuzz with energy.
People gathered, smiling and waving at other party guests as they arrived. An attendant stood to the side, taking jackets and hanging them in the office currently transformed into a coat closet. Christmas carols, softened through the magic of jazz, hummed on the air that smelled like cinnamon and citrus.
Clarke surveyed the entryway, her eyes skimming from face to face and her ears alert for one particular sound.
“Jesus, Clarke- ” Octavia nudged her shoulder. “You look like a meerkat who just popped out of their burrow. And trust me, that’s not a great look on you.”
Octavia shrugged out of her useless jacket and headed to the coat check. Clarke followed, not once halting her search of faces.
Clarke handed over her coat, smiling and thanking the attendant as he handed her a numbered ticket in return.
A silhouette caught her eye.
Clarke’s stomach swooped in anticipation.
Dark hair fell down an elegant back clad in a silky cream-colored shirt. Long and lithe fingers wrapped around a crystal champagne glass. Legs seemed to go on forever, perfect and lean, hugged in tight, dark denim.
Clarke swallowed down a lump of lust.
“Who the hell are you looking for?”
“Griff!”
A different mess of dark hair swirled around her as she was wrapped in a firm and enthusiastic embrace. Just as suddenly as she was engulfed, Raven withdrew and hugged Octavia.
Distraction gone, Clarke’s eyes locked back on the gorgeous woman in the cream shirt.
“Y’all finally made it,” Raven handed them each a glass of champagne. “What took you so long?”
“Clarke, here,” Octavia nudged her shoulder, forcing Clarke to pull an awkward assortment of movements to keep her drink from spilling down the front of her dress. “Decided to be all weird and stare at the house without going in for ten minutes. I think she was waiting for Santa to appear on the roof or something.”
Clarke leveled her with a glare.
Octavia smirked, and Clarke ignored her, far too intent on setting her tunnel vision back on track. But when she did, she didn’t find long dark hair tumbling down that back anymore. Someone in that woman’s little group said something. She had turned, putting her gloriously sharp jawline on display. Her kissable lips turned up in a smile as she laughed.
And Clarke sighed.
“Earth to Clarke,” Raven wiggled her fingers in front of Clarke’s face, temporarily snapping her out of her reverie. “Did you even hear a word I said?”
“What?” Clarke smiled as innocently as possible. Her eyes darted back to cream before flicking back to Raven. “What were you saying?”
“Who are you staring at?” Raven followed Clarke’s gaze and whirled around. “Oh,” she smirked. “It’s…”
*******
“Lexa.”
Lincoln caught her attention and nodded behind her.
“Don’t look now, but Clarke’s staring at you again.”
Lexa’s entire body flushed. She took a slow sip of her champagne, hiding her delight as best she could from her present company.
Not that it did any good.
Her best friends were far too observant.
“Are you ever going to make a move?” Anya rolled her eyes. “You’ve been pining after her for what? Two years now? Suck it up, and talk to her. Ask her to take you to her winter wonderland, and put us all out of our misery. Tis the season of giving. And receiving, in some cases.”
Lexa choked on her drink. “Must you be so crude?”
“Must you be so useless?”
Lincoln, bless his kind heart, placed a large hand on her shoulder, and gave her a sympathetic smile. He leveled Anya with a glare. “She’ll tell her when she’s ready to tell her.”
“It’s not like she should be taking advice from you, Lincoln,” Anya raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been in love with Octavia? Drawing her over and over in your sketchbook will eventually come across as desperate. Or creepy. Probably both.”
Lincoln dipped his chin in embarrassment, and Lexa felt a pang of remorse for the guy. He may have been big and burly, but that massive and intimidating frame hid the warmest and kindest heart out of the three of them.
“I’ll tell her tonight,” Lexa sighed, putting the attention back on her. “I will. I only have to figure out how.”
“Just kiss her. She’s staring at you like you’re the most decadent dessert she’s ever seen. I don’t think she’d mind if you just shoved your tongue down her throat.”
“Anya,” Lexa bit. “I can’t just walk up to her and kiss her. She deserves more than that.”
Lexa glanced over her shoulder, hiding her longing look behind a curtain of her hair. Clarke laughed with her friends. Her eyes scrunched up, obscuring that shade of blue Lexa loved so much. Whatever joke was said had the whole group in stitches, and Clarke reached up, grasping Octavia’s shoulder to steady herself. Lexa longed to be the one who made her laugh.
Not that she never did.
They’d been friends for a couple of years, but friends wasn’t precisely how Lexa wanted it classified. She wanted that more. Clarke, with her sharp mind, piercing eyes, and no bullshit attitude, was exactly who she wanted to spend every day with.
Clarke Griffin was marvelous.
And spectacular women like that deserved more than just a random first kiss.
“What if it was for a tradition?”
Lexa turned to Lincoln. He stared up at the bunch of green leaves hanging in the archway.
“No-” Lexa shook her head and waved her hand in front of her, her champagne sloshing dangerously close to the lip. “No way. My first kiss with her is not going to be as cliché as under the…”
*******
“Mistletoe,” Clarke exclaimed. “That’s perfect!”
Raven nodded, high and mighty like she’d just cured cancer. “I am brilliant. You’re welcome.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself, Raven. It’s not that original of an idea. Everyone kisses under the mistletoe,” Octavia sighed. Her gaze drifted over to the man talking to Lexa.
Lincoln, Clarke remembered. She nudged Octavia playfully. “You can catch him under it too.”
“Nah,” Octavia laughed, convincing no one but herself that she didn’t care. “It’s fine. I don’t think he sees me that way.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Clarke said, full of Christmas confidence. “I get Lexa under the mistletoe, and you at least talk to him. Deal?”
“Deal,” Octavia nodded as she shook her hand.
“Operation Mistletoe is a go!” Raven fist pumped into the air.
“Okay,” Clarke took a deep breath. “Now to figure out how to get her under some mistletoe without it being too obvious.”
“You better figure it out quick.” Raven’s eyes widened. She cleared her throat two seconds before a gentle hand tapped Clarke’s shoulder.
Clarke gulped the last bit of champagne and turned to meet the softest lips curled up into the kindest smile. “Hi,” Lexa smirked.
“Lexa,” Clarke breathed. “Wow, you look gorgeous.”
She opened her arms, and when Lexa stepped forward, she wrapped her up in a friendly hug. And dear lord, Lexa smelled wonderful. The subtle aroma of roses and amber lingered in the crook of her neck, and it took a lot of will power to release her.
But she did, and then Lexa was looking at her the same way she always did. It was intense and knowing, yet soft and subtle. Lexa was this lovely contradiction, and it was why she’d never been sure if she saw Clarke the way Clarke wanted to be seen.
“How’re you enjoying the party?” Lexa smiled.
“It’s nice,” Clarke nodded as she glanced around the impeccably decorated room. “I always knew Kane had good taste.”
The conversation awkwardly died, and Raven and Octavia began staring, biting their lips and sniggering as they stared from Clarke to Lexa. It was annoying, to say the least, so Clarke raised her empty glass.
“I’m going to get a refill. Lexa?”
Lexa glanced down at her half-full flute and nodded, “Sure.”
“Great!”
Clarke linked arms with her, like she always did, and began to lead her towards the bar. But Raven caught her attention with a wiggle of her eyebrows and winked. She gestured towards the archway to their left, and there, hanging where all could see, was a bundle of fresh mistletoe.
Perfect.
They were close, so close to being under that magnificent parasitic plant. Just a few more steps and she could stop them there, look up, smile knowingly, and place a wonderful first kiss to those pouty lips.
“Oh, I need to-” Lexa stopped short, squeezing her eyes shut. She shook her head as her cheeks blossomed in an adorable blush. “Bathroom. I’ll meet you at the bar in a minute.”
And without waiting for Clarke to answer, Lexa slipped her arm from Clarke’s and disappeared around a corner.
Clarke stood there, alone, feet from the mistletoe. It was unfortunate timing, but she did have all night.
“I can still do this,” she gave herself a pep talk. “There’s no way I’m letting this turn into a Christmas…”
*******
“Disaster.” Anya shook her head so disappointingly at Lexa. “You are a walking, talking disaster. You were right there! Feet away from the mistletoe. All your problems could have been solved.”
“I told you,” Lexa sighed. She glanced around the corner, making sure no one was in earshot. “I can’t just kiss Clarke without telling her how I feel first.”
“Action, Lexa,” Anya met her with a determined glare. “Actions speak louder than words.”
“What if she doesn’t feel that way?” Lexa looked up at nothing as she rambled her deepest fears about the whole thing. “We’ve been friends for two years. What if I’m reading into something that isn’t there?”
Anya huffed through her nose, and with a speed that rivaled Carmelita Jeter bursting from the starting blocks, grabbed Lexa by the wrist and dragged her through the hallways. She came to a crashing stop, cupped Lexa’s face, and planted a wet kiss on her lips.
“What the hell, Anya?” Lexa gasped, once again checking to make sure no one was eavesdropping.
“There,” Anya raised a haughty eyebrow. “Did I just ruin our friendship?”
“Not yet, but if you-”
“Point made,” Anya silenced her with a wave of her hand. “Mistletoe is the perfect excuse. If she likes you, wonderful. If she just thinks of you as a friend, it was just a silly Christmas tradition. Win-win, Woods.”
Anya may have had a point, but Lexa’s mind was made up. That burst of hope that Clarke felt the same way was too great, and if she did, and they started a relationship, she wanted a memorable first kiss, not a cliché.
She was a true romantic at heart.
Completely unaware of Lexa’s internal decision, Anya shoved her forward. “Now go on, and don’t come back until you do it. And as thanks for finally convincing you to go after what you want, you can bring me a nice bottle of…”
*******
“Champagne. Two, please.” Clarke ordered. She glanced around the dining room converted to a bar setup, searching for Lexa.
It was an awe-inspiring setup. Kane had spared no expense, it would seem. A colossal banquet table sat in the corner, adorned with all sorts of finger foods, savory and sweet, and there was even a crazy detailed ice sculpture of two turtle doves perched on a wreath of holly with damn mistletoe clamped in their tiny beaks.
The bartender slid two glasses to her, and after thanking him and depositing a decent tip in the jar, Clarke took the flutes and found an empty standing cocktail table. She’d just taken a small sip when Lexa reappeared, cheeks rosy, eyes bright, and a smile on her lips that could stop hearts.
Clarke handed her a glass, and as the champagne transferred from her hand to Lexa’s, their fingers brushed. It was weirdly electric. They’d touched before, many times, hugs hello, hands on arms when they laughed together, Clarke even fell asleep on her shoulder at an incredibly dull conference once, but this felt different.
Christmas spirit different.
And the smirk on Lexa’s face seemed to realize that too.
She raised her glass. “To us,” Lexa bit her lip, hiding a sly smile that made Clarke’s stomach swoop.
“To us,” Clarke repeated and clinked their glasses together.
A slow sip of champagne followed, and Clarke couldn’t tear her eyes off the woman in front of her. But something else did catch her attention. Just over Lexa’s shoulder, hanging in yet another archway that led to the dance floor, was a bundle of greenery.
The universe was definitely on her side tonight.
“I love this song.”
“What?” Clarke shook her head, focusing again on Lexa.
“It’s very underrated,” Lexa smiled. She closed her eyes and lowered her voice so only Clarke could hear. “When you’re still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn’t really feel like Christmas at all,” she sang.
And oh my.
Lexa could sing.
Clarke had known this woman for years, and this was the first time she learned she could sing. It might as well have been a cupid dart to the heart, not that she needed another reason to fall for her.
In a bout of impulsiveness that she was pretty proud of, Clarke grabbed Lexa’s hand. “Let’s dance.”
“What?”
“Come on,” Clarke smiled as she tugged Lexa forward. “Let’s dance.”
“Oh, I don’t dance-”
“Please?”
And Lexa looked at her again, eyes big and kind, and Clarke knew she was about to give in. Her body hummed, and her skin tingled in anticipation because they absolutely would have to pass right under the mistletoe to get to the dance floor. And all this waiting and wanting was just beautiful…
*******
Torture.
Clarke smiling at her like that, and the idea of their bodies pressed so close together. It was exquisite torture. But one that Lexa wasn’t going to stop herself from experiencing.
So when Clarke tugged once more, she let herself be led.
Clarke grinned wickedly and bit her lip, and the sight made Lexa’s stomach drop. What she wouldn’t give to touch those lips.
Clarke glanced upwards, and Lexa followed her subtle gaze.
Oh, no.
Just how many of these stupid archways had damn mistletoe hung from them?
Lexa froze in her tracks, and Clarke snapped towards her, worry and panic evident in her suddenly wide eyes.
“You okay?”
Lexa backed away, struck inarticulate and bumbling. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just-” she glanced around them, desperate for an excuse not to walk under that arch. Her eyes landed on the kitschy ice sculpture. “This is just, wow. Look at the details on this thing!”
“Yeah,” Clarke nodded as her brows knitted together. “It’s impressive.”
“I saw this woman do an entire ice sculpture with a chainsaw once.” She leaned on the table to get a better look. “I doubt whoever did this used a chainsaw, though. Too precise.”
Clarke tilted her head in confusion and, if Lexa read it correctly, disappointment. She couldn’t really blame Clarke. She kept acting like a total and complete weirdo, and she really should just tell Clarke how she felt and get it over with.
Lincoln, that wonderful man, appeared at that very moment, providing the perfect avoidance distraction.
“Linc!” Lexa waved him over. “Hey.”
His grin was contagious as he weaved through the small crowd in the room, giving Clarke a big hug when he reached them. “How’re you doing, Clarke?”
“Can’t complain,” Clarke smiled. She took a step back, appraising Lincoln. “Damn, you clean up real nice.”
And Lexa had to remind herself that Clarke was just being friendly with another coworker, but that tiny dragon of jealously sputtered in her belly.
“I try,” he winked at Lexa. “You look amazing yourself.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir. Hey-” Clarke waved over Lincoln’s shoulder. “Octavia’s here.”
“Calm,” Lexa mouthed to Lincoln as his muscles tensed under his shirt. “Breathe.”
“What’s up, bitches?” Octavia snatched a cookie off a platter and took a bite. She offered the rest of it to Lincoln, who blushed as he took it from her.
“Not much,” Clarke shrugged. “Just discussing how good we look tonight.”
“Cheers to that.” Octavia raised her glass, and Lincoln blushed further. It was all pretty…
*******
Cute.
Octavia and Lincoln 100% had chemistry. Clarke smirked at Lexa, who was definitely thinking the same thing. Sure she had Lexa’s attention, Clarke mouthed a subtle, “Let’s go.”
Lexa cleared her throat. “Clarke, have you seen Kane’s library yet?”
“I haven’t.”
“Oh, you have to see it. It’s impressive.”
Octavia glanced at her, playing with her necklace. She pleaded silently for Clarke not to leave her alone, but Clarke could see the potential there. They just needed a little push, so she smiled and winked.
“Lead the way, Lexa.”
And while her stomach dropped in disappointment when Lexa led them through a different, mistletoe-less hallway, Clarke’s spirit remained high. If she didn’t get to kiss her, alone time was just as lovely.
They stopped in front of a pair of large oak doors.
“This is my favorite room in the house,” Lexa grinned as she pushed open the heavy door.
The library was gorgeous.
High vaulted ceilings reached at least fifteen feet, and every single wall was covered from the floor to the top in books. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, it’s multi-colored lights casting a rainbow of colors on the walls.
“You talk like you grew up here.”
“Might as well have. Kane and my mother have been friends since I was a child. But don’t worry,” Lexa teased. “Nepotism had no hand in my position at the company.”
“I wouldn’t think so. You’re pretty much the smartest person who works there.”
“Hardly.”
“Well, I think you are,” Clarke breathed.
And screw the mistletoe.
The warm glow of the understated lighting mixed with the colorful ballet dancing off the Christmas tree made Lexa’s eyes sparkle. She was damn beautiful.
Her throat bobbed up and down as she stepped forward.
She was inches from Clarke, and the heat of her body tickled Clarke’s skin.
Lexa leaned in farther, her voice no more than a melodious whisper, “I want to tell you something…”
*******
“Clarke!”
Lexa sprung backwards, alarmed by the extraordinary amount of energy radiating from Clarke’s friend.
“There you are, Clarke.” Raven’s shoulders fell in relief. She bounded over to them, wrapping her hand around Clarke’s wrist and tugging her away as if Lexa wasn’t even there. “Octavia’s making some solid progress out there. How’s your Operation-”
She froze, wild smile on her lips, as she finally landed eyes on Lexa. “Oh,” Raven’s grin entered Cheshire cat territory. “Hey, Lexa.”
Lexa swallowed her pride and disappointment at being interrupted when she finally, finally dared to tell Clarke the truth. But Raven was one of Clarke’s best friends, and if she wanted to form any sort of lasting relationship with her, she’d have to get in good graces with those closest to her.
So Lexa plastered the sincerest smile she could muster and greeted this smirking woman.
“Raven, right?”
Raven offered her hand. “The one and only.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Clarke’s told me a lot about you.”
“Oh,” Raven mercilessly chuckled. “Likewise.”
And Lexa really hoped that giggle was a good thing.
“So,” Clarke rocked back and forth on her heels. “Raven, was there something you wanted?”
“Yeah,” Raven shook her head clear of whatever she was thinking about Lexa and refocused on her best friend. “I was just going to update you on Octavia and Lincoln, but I get the feeling you were busy.”
That last part was said more as a question than a statement, and Lexa silently, selfishly hoped Clarke would say she was. It wasn’t often Lexa mustered up the courage to confess her true love to the woman of her dreams.
But when Clarke glanced over at her, Lexa saw the conflict in her eyes, and being the smitten sap she was, let Clarke off the hook.
“So you two are rooting for Lincoln and Octavia too?”
“O’s been lusting after that man for months,” Clarke sighed. “We’re all for her finally figuring her shit out tonight.”
Lexa let out a stifled laugh. “My friend was just saying the same thing about Lincoln.”
Raven grumbled under her breath. “I’m surrounded by…”
*******
“Idiots.”
A tall and sharp-looking woman strolled through the door, shaking her head. Clarke recognized her instantly. Lexa’s scary friend, Anya.
“In an attempt to gain courage,” Anya deadpanned. “Lincoln has taken three shots of peppermint schnapps. If you want some solid entertainment, I suggest making your way to the dance floor. Shenanigans are coming. I can feel it.”
Lexa mumbled something about Lincoln and schnapps, and before Clarke could protest, Lexa stormed out of the library, followed by a bemused Anya.
“Did I interrupt something,” Raven wiggled her eyebrows at Clarke. “Because it felt like I interrupted something.”
Clarke heaved a large sigh. “You definitely interrupted something.”
“Sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Sorta,” Raven shrugged. “But, Clarke, you’ve got to see O. She’s…”
*******
“Out of control.” Anya gestured to the dance floor, where Lincoln whispered with the DJ, hands animatedly gesturing to the stage.
“Oh, no,” Lexa gasped. “He’s going to-”
Anya grinned like a menace. “Just like senior year.”
“We should do something.”
“Or,” Anya shrugged. “We let it play out. I’m down for a good laugh.”
“Anya,” Lexa sighed.
As much as she enjoyed Lincoln belting a song karaoke-style, the annual work holiday party wasn’t the best situation to completely let loose. And Lincoln wasn’t exactly known for his velvety voice.
“What?” Anya smirked. “It’s not like you’re shooting your shot. Might as well let the man shoot his tonight.”
Lexa whirled on her, frustrated that yes, she was about to tell Clarke the truth if it weren’t for a bunch of meddling friends. “If you must know,” Lexa set her jaw. “I was about to tell Clarke…”
*******
“I’m in love with her.” Clarke half-laughed, half-gasped. “Raven, I’m head over heels, ‘want to spend my life with her’ in love with her. And I think she feels it too. We were so close, but…”
“Just pull her under the mistletoe, Griff,” Raven grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her right in the eye. “You just gotta do it. So do it. Don’t let anything else get in your way.”
“Yeah,” Clarke nodded, gaining confidence and volume. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right. I’m going to march out there, lead her under one of the many many mistletoe hanging around this McMansion, and kiss her.”
“That’s the spirit.” Raven clapped her back. She grimaced. “But first, you really need to come with me. I think Lincoln is going to surprise…”
*******
“Octavia!” Lincoln bellowed into the microphone. His too eager voice distorted with feedback, and Lexa rubbed her bleeding ears. “We’ve been friends for a while, but there’s something I want to tell you. I feel a song can say it better than me, so this one is for you!”
“Oh, no,” Lexa whispered as familiar intro music blasted over the speakers.
“Oh, yes,” Anya nodded.
“You’re here, where you should be…” Lincoln sang at the top of his lungs.
“He can’t hit those Kelly Clarkson notes,” Lexa covered her face with her hands, already feeling the second-hand embarrassment for her friend.
Anya laughed. “This is going to be good.”
“I’ve got to help him.”
“He’s fine.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Wait-” Anya grabbed for Lexa, but it was too late. She had to save her friend. She barely heard Anya’s last-stitch plea over the loud music. “Leave him be. He’s got this…”
*******
“Lexa?”
Clarke gaped as she stared at the stage. Lexa stood there, mic in hand, back to back with Lincoln, belting out a banger of a Christmas carol.
And Clarke fell a little more in love.
The smile on her face grew massive as Lexa nailed her performance, balancing out Lincoln’s low voice with perfect harmony.
Their spectacle was good, and a decent crowd gathered around the stage, clapping and smiling along. Lincoln, clearly a little tipsy, pointed straight into the crowd at a beaming Octavia, who was loving this serenade as much as she loved ranting about poorly written sci-fi shows she couldn’t help but watch.
At the music break, Lincoln hopped off the low stage and grabbed Octavia by the hand. The gathered group of onlookers parted to give them some space, and he laughed while he danced with her. Clarke clapped and cheered with the crowd, and in her moment of joy for her friend, she’d lost sight of Lexa.
A woman in a cream-colored shirt appeared in front of her, holding out her hand.
Lexa smiled, bigger and brighter than she’d ever seen, and the butterflies ignited in Clarke’s belly. She placed her hand in Lexa’s just as the lyrics started up again.
“And then one day, everything change,” Lexa sang, never breaking eye contact with Clarke. “You're all that I need…”
Clarke swallowed down her anticipation.
“Underneath the tree!” Lexa belted perfectly.
She tightened her hold on Clarke and spun her out before pulling her close.
Their bodies pressed together, and Clarke felt everything. Lexa’s warmth, the silky smoothness of her shirt, the way her muscles tightened as Clarke snuggled closer, the rapid beat of her heart as she handed off the microphone to a more than willing Octavia.
Lexa held her tight, swaying slowly despite the upbeat tempo of the song, graceful and balletic.
“I thought you said you couldn’t dance,” Clarke whispered in Lexa’s ear, smirking as she felt Lexa’s chest tighten with a longing gasp.
“I said I don’t dance, not that I couldn’t.”
Clarke hummed, keeping Lexa close. They might as well have been in a deserted room because nothing else mattered at the moment. Clarke didn’t hear Lincoln and Octavia finishing the song in unison. She couldn’t see the mass of people clapping for the new couple. There was only her and Lexa and the way their bodies fit together.
“You make me want to dance,” Lexa confessed.
And Clarke was sure Lexa could hear her heart beating as loud as…
*******
The music.
It was there, Lexa was sure of it, but she couldn’t hear it. Clarke was holding her. They were dancing, and Clarke was staring at her with this beautiful little twinkle in her eye.
This was that magical moment Lexa was waiting for.
She tilted her head and leaned in, smiling as Clarke met her half way.
Her lips were tender and soft, and she tasted of champagne and cookies, and Lexa never felt more eager for just life.
It was her perfect first kiss.
They broke apart, grinning like fools, and Anya appeared, throwing her arm around Lexa’s shoulder.
She squeezed her close, and Lincoln grunted from the other side “Fuck,” Anya shook her head. “I love a good cheesy Christmas miracle. So happy everyone took my advice.”
“I didn’t,” Lexa protested.
Anya raised a haughty eyebrow and looked up.
Hanging underneath the spinning disco ball was…
*******
Mistletoe.
Clarke kissed the woman she was in love with under the mistletoe. She’d done it, but by god, she wasn’t done.
She intertwined her fingers with Lexa’s and pulled her away from the crowd of coworkers and friends, leading Lexa back to the library.
Clarke closed the door behind them and marched right up to Lexa. “I’ve been in love with you for a while,” she confessed.
To her delight and surprise, Lexa burst out in a fit of laughter. “We really are idiots.”
And then Clarke kissed her again. And again. And again.
No mistletoe necessary.