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7 BC
“So you think we should fuck.”
It’s Valentine’s Day and Lexa can only roll her eyes at Clarke’s word choice. “When you put it like that, it sounds terribly crass.”
“I’m just calling it for what it is.”
“Look, Clarke, you are busy, I am busy,” Lexa argues, leaving no room for folly. “Neither of us are in relationships, nor have the time for them, but I am sure both of us need relief.”
Clarke Griffin is too busy for relationships. She has papers to write and exams to study for and friends to indulge, among other less important things that take up a lot of her time nonetheless. She’s too busy being the perfect med student to waste her time on something as trivial as a relationship.
“It is all very logical, Clarke,” Lexa continues, undeterred by the blonde’s obvious scepticism. “We are not friends and we are not attracted to each other, which means there are no dangerous feelings, and we cannot ruin a friendship that does not exist. Not to mention, we have no chemistry at all, so the risk of catching such feelings is minimal. The day one of us finds someone else, we break it off.”
Clarke and Lexa met through friends of mutual friends. Clarke’s best friend Octavia started dating Lincoln, who is friends with Lexa’s best friend Anya. They eventually became part of the same group, but have never really interacted at length. They have hung out together, as part of the group, but never just with each other, and have never felt the need to.
Like her, Lexa is studious and ambitious, but her aloof demeanour is frankly off-putting. They have the same friends, but are polar opposites in the way they interact with such friends. Clarke can count on her hand the words Lexa has said to her, and vice-versa. If she’s being honest, Clarke doesn’t find Lexa very interesting. She’s also sure it’s entirely mutual, what with the way Lexa regularly rolls her eyes at Clarke and her friends’ antics.
It is surprising, then, that the first time they find themselves alone, on Valentine’s Day of all days — both with nothing to do on this date that both simply despise — Lexa would make such an offer.
“Despite appearances, I am an emotional being, and I would much rather spend Valentine’s Day in bed with someone than completely alone,” Lexa shrugs. “The fact that I will never fall in love with you is an added bonus.” Clarke should probably feel offended, but she finds herself strangely agreeing with Lexa. “It is the perfect arrangement, Clarke, and you cannot deny it.”
*
The mess of brown curls between her legs keeps pushing inward and outward, like the push and pull of a wave; a tongue lapping up and down at her folds. Her fingers are threaded between the brown mane, nails scrapping at the scalp, drawing hums that vibrate from her centre to the rest of her body.
“Yes,” she rasps, damp hair slick against her forehead and the back of her neck, “just like that.”
Her fists clench around the linen as the tongue grazes downward and into her entrance, pushing in, before pulling out and coming back up to press against her clit. When a pair of plump lips encases her clit and sucks it in, Clarke feels her body shift.
With lips parted and stars bursting behind her eyelids, Clarke feels the orgasm ripple through her body, causing it to quiver and tense, short jerks tearing a breathy, groaned moan from her throat.
She collapses onto the mattress, then, completely spent, as her fists slack their grip on the linen and all tension drains from her body. This was a great idea, she realises.
A really great idea.
Lexa emerges from between her legs, chin shining, eyes dark and a smug smirk on her lips. “Like I said, the perfect arrangement.”
“Oh, shut up and come here,” Clarke demands, arms outstretched, pulling Lexa to her when the brunette climbs close enough, with a hand on the back of her neck. She crashes their lips together, moaning when she tastes herself on luscious, pouty lips.
They are panting when their lips part, eyes dark and foreheads almost touching, heavy breaths mingling as they leave the wild smiles on both women’s lips.
“I believe it’s your turn,” Clarke breathes in husky tones.
Lexa nods eagerly and she flips them over with ease. As she hovers over the brunette, wisps of hair snaking in all directions and wide eyes heavy with lust, she feels nothing but desire. Her resolve strengthens.
This is the perfect arrangement.
\\*//
6 BC
“It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Thank you, Clarke, I clearly hadn’t noticed all the roses and chocolate boxes flowing around the halls.”
Clarke looks up from her phone to level Lexa with an unimpressed stare. “Funny.” Lexa’s tiny smirk does not go unnoticed.
“I truly do despise this day,” Lexa comments offhandedly, watching as a guy skips down the hall with a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers. “Roses are not even the prettiest flowers with romantic meanings.”
“I do love me some red tulips,” Clarke remarks as she returns her gaze to her phone, much more invested in her social media feed than Lexa’s rambling about flowers. She’s used to it and it’s never particularly exciting.
“Red tulips,” Lexa ponders absentmindedly. “Perfect love.”
“I don’t know,” Clarke shrugs. “Does everything need to have a meaning behind it?”
She earns a pensive look from Lexa. “Not necessarily. Things hold whatever meaning you wish to attribute to them.”
“Can a red rose be just a red rose, though?”
“It can, if you want. Just as a red tulip can be just a pretty flower.”
“Then that’s what it is,” she decides. “Just a pretty flower.”
*
Lexa falls back on the mattress with an exhausted, dreamy look in her eyes and Clarke all but preens at having been the one to put it there.
“I do love our Valentine’s get-togethers,” Clarke teases as she crawls up Lexa’s body with a smug grin. “I feel they’re more… Fiery.”
“I think that is a natural consequence of our frustration at consecutively being the only ones without plans for this day,” Lexa notes, ever the analytical mind.
“Which is weird, because we’re easily the hottest ones in our friend group.” She lays her body on Lexa’s and rests her chin over the brunette’s heart.
“Hotness does not a great date make.”
“Indeed.”
They remain in that position for a few more seconds, before Lexa makes to leave the bed. Clarke rolls to the side, allowing the brunette to stand up. She observes as Lexa picks up her clothes and gets dressed.
“Same time on Tuesday?” Lexa nods. “Good luck for your presentation.”
“I don’t need luck, Clarke,” Lexa says simply, so simply it’s not even possible to accuse her of being conceited. Lexa simply knows her worth and wastes no time on false modesty; it’s not a question of ego, but rather honesty. “I know all there is to know about the topic.”
“Well, still — good luck.”
Lexa finally turns to look at her and a small smile blossoms on her lips. “Thank you.”
Soon enough, Lexa is ready to leave, skinny black jeans and a leather jacket to match adorning her lithe frame. She walks to the bed and places a quick peck on Clarke’s lips, a simple ‘goodbye’ and ‘thanks for the sex’.
“Drive safely,” Clarke cautions, aware that the streets are crazy at this time of day — especially this day.
“I will.”
Lexa heads to the door, but stops short before she crosses the threshold. Clarke watches, intrigued, as Lexa walks to a chifforobe and picks up a flower the blonde didn’t even notice was there before.
Her eyes widen when Lexa approaches the bed and kneels by it, offering her the flower.
“A red tulip,” Clarke states the obvious. Then she remembers their talk, her saying it was her favourite and the meaning behind it — she frowns, thinking Lexa has forgotten that theirs is a purely physical arrangement. “Lexa, you know I-“
Lexa silences with a crooked smirk. “Like you said, Clarke,” she whispers softly. “It’s just a pretty flower.”
Clarke can’t help but grin widely as she takes the red tulip from her friend’s gentle fingers.
\\*//
5 BC
“My parents are visiting today.” Clarke watches carefully as Lexa’s eyes snap up to her. “They should be here in a couple of hours.”
Lexa stops moving her fingers, but keeps them inside Clarke. “Why would parents visit on Valentine’s Day?” she frowns. “To remind their kid of their depressing lack of date for this night?”
“Probably my mom’s thinking,” Clarke chuckles. “So. Would you like to meet them?”
“Clarke, I don’t-“
“Don’t worry, this won’t affect our arrangement,” Clarke is quick to assure. “You’re not ‘meeting the parents’,” she stresses it with air quotes. “You’re just meeting my mom and dad, because we’re the only two single lowlifes on Valentine’s Day, and I happened to invite you over for some pizza and a movie.”
Clarke watches as Lexa reflects on it and she can pinpoint the exact moment when her friend makes her decision.
“Fine,” Lexa sighs. “But no inappropriate touching or anything that might hint at us being in any kind of… not strictly friendly relationship.”
She beams at Lexa’s awkward fumbling and agreement. “Thanks, Lex.”
Lexa shrugs and resumes thrusting her fingers into Clarke, but stops again after a few moments, “I feel I should introduce you to my parents too, now. It feels oddly unbalanced.”
Clarke is barely able to hide her excitement at meeting Lexa’s parents. For some reason, she wants to know the people who raised the person she’s been fucking on the regular. It’s more than a little weird.
“Invite them to dinner here,” she suggests nonchalantly. “What’s the difference between making dinner for four and dinner for six?”
“It’s a big difference, Clarke.”
“Whatever. Just invite them over.”
*
Dinner is not a simple affair. To Clarke’s shock, Abby decides to grill Lexa all throughout dinner and Lexa’s mother, Indra, doesn’t once relent on piercing into Clarke with a scowl.
It confuses her; they told the four parents that they are just friends. No romance of any kind between them. Clarke even changed her bedclothes and sprayed her room to get rid of the smell of sex, lest her mother go in there and start sniffing for evidence. Which she did.
She tries to ignore it, but Clarke can see the way Lexa bristles during the meal. It’s her fault, the blonde admits. She never expected their parents not to believe their (true enough) story.
Now that she thinks about it, it probably has something to do with the brand new red tulip in a jar in her bedroom. But it’s not like she could just throw it away, it was a gift from Lexa. It’s their tradition.
So when they have all said their goodbyes, with a bear hug from Gustus and a warning glare from Indra for Clarke, and a warm hug from Jake and ‘don’t mess it up’ from Abby for Lexa, the blonde can’t say she’s really surprised when Lexa waits for her to close the door and then storms off into the kitchen.
She can’t really blame the brunette, either. Still, Clarke follows with a sigh. She finds Lexa pacing in the kitchen.
“It’s not meeting the parents, you said. We’re just two single lowlifes spending Valentine’s Day together. They will never see more to it, you said.” By now, with the intensity of her pacing and the harshness of her voice, Clarke is afraid Lexa will open a hole on the kitchen floor. Then the brunette turns to her, green eyes burning with anger. “You said this wouldn’t affect our arrangement.”
“And it won’t!” Clarke reacts at last. “Just because our parents think we’re dating, doesn’t mean we are, or that it will affect our relationship! We barely ever see them!”
“Their opinion still matters to me, Clarke!”
“So what, you’ll just tell them we broke in a few weeks!” Clarke takes a few tentative steps forward and is relieved when Lexa doesn’t step back. They calm down considerably when Clarke comes to stand just a foot two feet away from the brunette. “It’s not like they think this is serious.”
“My father thinks I’m in love with you, Clarke.”
“So what?” she shrugs. “My dad thinks I’m head over heels in love with you, too.”
“Well, I don’t love you,” Lexa grows lowly, menacing, and Clarke smirks.
“I don’t love you too.”
*
“They’re right.”
Lexa perks up, lifting her face from the pillow and turning slightly to look at Clarke. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know,” Clarke mumbles, fingertips still brushing up and down, over the tribal patterns on Lexa’s upper arm. “Whoever said it first.”
“Whoever said what first?”
“That make-up sex is the best sex there is.”
Lexa nods in understanding and lays her face back in the pillow. Clarke’s fingertips traverse from her friend’s arm to her back, tracing the lines and circles of Lexa’s tattoos. “Beautiful,” she breathes, never tired of the sight, nothing short of a work of art.
Lexa doesn’t reply. For a long moment, the only sound between them is that of their synced breathing.
“Are we friends?”
The question surprises her. It’s not something she really thinks about, if she ever has. Still, she knows the answer.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” Lexa echoes, looking over her shoulder. She seems hopeful, maybe relieved even.
“Yeah, I mean, we don’t really interact much among our friends, but I think that after two years sleeping together, we’ve reached the level of intimacy where we can call ourselves friends.”
Lexa hums musingly. “I agree.” After another long moment, Lexa breaks the silence again. “What time is it?”
Clarke over the shoulder at the alarm clock sitting on her bedside table. It’s late; much later than any of them has stayed over. “Five past one.”
Clarke can see Lexa is about to say something, so she cuts the brunette off by pressing her front to the girl’s back and hugging her waist snugly. She rests her cheek on Lexa’s, a soft smile on her thin lips.
“Stay the night.”
The wheels in Lexa’s head spin much faster than she expected. “Okay.”
A content feeling wells up in Clarke’s chest and she feels the need to lift her head slightly so she can look at Lexa, whose eyes are soft and drowsy, both blissfully unaware that things will never be the same between them. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Clarke buries her face in Lexa’s hair, nuzzling the back of her neck, and tightens the old on her waist. Later on, she will not remember who said it first; only that it became their tradition:
“I don’t love you.”
“I don’t love you too.”
\\*//
4 BC
It’s Valentine’s Day and Clarke is buying a red tulip. Just a pretty flower. She’s kind of bending tradition, true, but she feels it’s time to return Lexa’s yearly sweet gesture.
Her phone rings and Clarke beams at the called ID. “Hey Lex.”
“Clarke! So good you picked up. Can you meet me in an hour?”
Clarke frowns, not used to being with Lexa so early. “Yeah, sure. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, more than okay.” She can practically hear Lexa’s soft smile from the other end of the line. “Actually, I have exciting news to share.”
“Ohhh, exciting,” Clarke chuckles. “Okay, I’ll meet you at yours?”
She can hear Lexa’s hesitation. “Actually, can we meet at yours? Just to make sure there are no-“
“No, sure, wherever you want,” Clarke grins. The call holds in silence for a few seconds, before she realises that Lexa is waiting for her to speak. “Oh-kay, gotta go now. Lots to prepare before you come.”
“All right, don’t let me stop you. I don’t love you, Clarke.”
She can’t prevent her smile from widening and the oddly giddy feeling to spread from her chest. “I don’t love you too, Lex.”
*
Clarke looks around her and takes pride in the sight of her house. Lit up candles sit atop every single piece of furniture, paving the way from the living room to her bedroom. Lexa loves candles and Clarke is very thorough, but she thinks it’s justified since Lexa is staying the night, as has been their habit since last year’s Valentine’s Day.
She’s wearing casual chic clothes, but the true treat is underneath — an extremely sexy lingerie set that will make Lexa’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. In her hands, a single red tulip.
The bell rings and Clarke can barely curb her enthusiasm. “It’s open!”
When the door opens, it reveals a hesitant Lexa, whose eyes widen at all the candles that litter the room. “Clarke, this-“
“-is for you,” Clarke declares, pushing the flower into Lexa’s fingers. The brunette takes in the gift and smiles softly, gaze locking with Clarke’s in a silent thank you. “You said you had big news.”
Lexa lights up at the mention. “Yes! Great news, actually,” she beams.
Clarke looks at her expectantly, thinking what her friend might have ‘great’ news about. “Oh, did you get a good grade on your exam?”
“Well, yes,” Lexa chuckles. “But that is not why I’m here.”
“Then what is it, Lexa?”
Lexa’s smile widens like never before as she speaks her next words: “I’ve got a girlfriend.”
*
A punch to the gut.
That is, incomprehensibly, how Clarke would describe what she felt in that moment. She doesn’t care to explore the why, but it felt a bit like her whole world crumbled.
Her smile certainly faltered.
Unaware of Clarke’s discomfort, Lexa went on a tangent about Costia, the girlfriend, who is so sweet and kind and the most beautiful woman she’s ever met. All while Clarke just stared, unsure even as to how to react.
Their arrangement ended that afternoon, naturally, without even a kiss to tie it up in a nice little bow. No closure.
She just met Costia, who, unsurprisingly, is everything Lexa said she was. Clarke can’t even bring herself dislike her. She can’t really point out a flaw on the girl. Costia is simply perfect.
Clarke is not. She doesn’t even know why she’s comparing herself to Lexa’s girlfriend, but she is and now she can’t stop.
At least she can drown her confusion in some Ben & Jerry’s.
\\*//
3 BC
It’s Valentine’s Day and Clarke is spending it alone. She has tried dating, but never managed to keep someone for more than a couple of months. Lexa, however, seems to be head over heels in love with Costia and Clarke wouldn’t be surprised if she popped the question.
Just thinking about it makes her feel nauseous. Her friends know something is wrong with her, but given that she and Lexa don’t interact much when they’re all together, they’ve probably chalked it up to Clarke feeling bad about being the only single person in their friend group.
Oh, because there’s also that making her even more miserable.
Clarke has just reached her floor, a ridiculous and depressing red tulip in hand, bought for no reason than to maybe keep up tradition somehow, when she spots a familiar figure sitting on her doorstep.
As she approaches, Clarke can see that Lexa’s demeanour is all but sulky and sad. One arm lies on her knees and the other is propped on one knee, palm holding her temple. It makes Clarke’s heart ache. Still, there is resentment still — for what, she is yet to figure out — and she can’t afford to be weak in front of Lexa now.
“Lexa Woods on my doorstep,” she observes coldly, crossing her arms. “Rough day?”
Green eyes are the picture of exhaustion when they meet hers. “You could say that.”
Clarke tries, but she can’t really keep the angry façade. She unfolds her arms with a sigh, blue eyes shining with concern. “Wanna talk about it?”
“No,” Lexa mumbles, and when she looks back at Clarke, jade eyes are aflame. “I want to fuck about it.”
*
Lexa stays the night. Lexa worships her and she worships Lexa and Lexa stays the night and it’s the best she sleeps in a long, long time.
She doesn’t ask Lexa about Costia. She knows Lexa would never do anything wrong. She also feels guilty for being happy that Lexa is here, with her, even though she’s clearly still heartbroken.
Lexa stays the night and they go grocery shopping together the following morning, and it’s the happiest Clarke has been in a long, long time.
As they walk side by side to the store, she feels Lexa’s hand take hers. Clarke halts and looks at their joined hands, then at Lexa, and the brunette is smiling shyly. “Is this okay?”
Clarke can’t hold back a smile of her own. She lowers her gaze bashfully and utters a simple, timid: “Yeah.”
When Clarke squeezes Lexa’s hand, the brunette takes it one step farther and laces their fingers together.
Their hands never separate. Clarke smiles so widely the whole way to the shop and back, that by the time she falls asleep, her cheeks still hurt.
They don’t have sex that night.
*
Lexa stays the night again and Clarke can’t even begin to describe the feeling that wells up in her chest when she opens her eyes, the morning after, to soft green ones.
Clarke grins widely and pulls her in for a kiss, and Lexa happily obliges. It’s blissful for a moment and two and three, until Clarke feels the dampness of tears tinge her cheeks. She pulls back with a frown and her heart breaks at the sight of Lexa, beautiful strong Lexa, crying.
“She broke up with me,” Lexa sobs, and even though she already figured it out, Clarke feels a wave of revolt and sadness pierce through her body.
“Oh baby,” she whispers, taking Lexa’s face between her hands and wiping the treacherous tears away with her thumbs. Lexa throws her arms around Clarke’s waist and buries her face in Clarke’s shoulder, holding her tightly; desperately even. Clarke can only wrap her arms around her friend’s shoulders and neck, keeping her close.
Lexa mumbles stories of constant fights and disparate tastes and foolish jealousy, but Clarke is not really listening, knows she doesn’t need to. Lexa only needs her to hear.
All Clarke is focused on is holding Lexa in her arms, rocking them back and forth soothingly, hearing the slowly steadying beat of Lexa’s heart.
For the following weeks, whilst Lexa deals with the heartbreak of the break-up, Clarke is her rock. Not even two months later, she will be Clarke’s rock, helping her through the devastation of Jake’s death.
\\*//
2 BC
There are two red tulips in the jar and Clarke and Lexa are tangled in a mess of limbs, hair, and linen. One of the blonde’s hands is holding one of the brunette’s and the air around them bursts with an elated feeling.
“I can’t believe we’re still doing this,” Clarke chuckles huskily. She knows how much her gravelly morning voice turns Lexa’s on. “Are we such… unappealing prospects?”
Lexa scrunches up her nose in thought. “I think it’s the fact that we seem to come in a package deal.”
“Hmm. That’s true. Maybe we could do that thing straight guys fantasise about and have a threesome.”
“I would not do that if you paid me, Clarke.”
She can’t hold in the laugh that bubbles out at Lexa’s words. “I was kidding, silly!”
A kiss is all they need to settle the ‘disagreement’. It takes them a while to come up for air, but when they do, Clarke suddenly feels nervous. What she is about to ask could end their arrangement if not taken well.
“Lexa, I have something—“ She breathes in once, twice, thrice. “I have something important to ask you.”
Lexa gives her undivided attention, gentle eyes wide in expectation.
“Yes, Clarke?”
“We’ve had this arrangement for five years and since… well, you know. Since her—“
“You can say her name, Clarke,” Lexa reassures gently, but unaffected, which boosts her confidence enormously.
“After Costia, we’ve been spending nearly every night together, having sex or otherwise. So I just thought that maybe it would be more useful- I mean- easier, I guess? If we just- if we just moved in together.”
Lexa’s response is the widest grin Clarke has ever seen stretching those beautiful plump lips. “I think it would be easier too.”
It takes only a week to move in together. For comfort. Obviously.
\\*//
1 BC
“I can’t believe Octavia and Lincoln are getting married.”
“I know, Lexa,” Clarke practically squeals into the phone. “I know. I’m beyond excited. I think I might be a bit hyperactive right now.”
Her best friend’s chuckle is a tender gift from the gods. “I can hear that.”
She enters the store, pushing the door open with her free hand. “Octavia and Raven are here already. I’d better go.”
Lexa answers just as she walks up to her friends, who greet her with one-armed hugs. “I won’t keep them waiting, then. I will see you later, Clarke.”
“See you later,” Clarke agrees, silently ushering Octavia into a fitting room. “I don’t love you!”
“Love you too.”
Clarke freezes. The world stops. The call disconnects. Raven stares at her.
“Well damn, I guess it finally happened.”
*
“ANYA!”
“Jesus, kiddo, calm down.” A lanky Anya shows up from the bathroom, still zipping up her pants. She stops in her tracks when she sees Lexa’s pale expression of shock and fear. “What happened?”
“I told Clarke I love her.”
Anya clearly doesn’t get the gravity of the situation. “Okay… So?”
“Anya, I told Clarke I love her!”
“Okay,” the taller woman repeats. “So?”
“Anya, I told—“
“Okay, stop! This is getting ridiculous. Why is there a problem with telling Clarke you love her?”
Lexa’s dumbfounded expression says it all. “Because… I don’t?”
“Hm,” Anya hums with a serious nod. “Now try that again, but with the truth.
“Anya, I don’t—“
“Don’t you even try to come up with another excuse. You share an apartment, for fuck’s sake.” Lexa goes to argue, but again Anya is quick to cut her off: “And don’t you even dare say it’s for comfort.”
“But it is,” Lexa argues weakly. “Everyone else shares a house with their significant others, so we guessed if we shared the rent- it works because we are both sing-“
This time, it’s Anya’s loud guffaw that interrupts her. “Lexa, you don’t really believe you’re single, do you?” The brunette frowns in confusion and Anya officially deems her a lost cause. “You have a girlfriend, you idiot. She has blonde hair, blue eyes, an annoying personality, and goes by the name of Clarke. Oh, and in case all those things don’t ring a bell: you share a bed with her. Where you fuck her almost daily. Honestly, you should hear what your neighbours have to say about you two.”
*
“What do you mean, ‘it finally happened’?”
Raven is too smart not to raise her hands in surrender at Clarke’s scorching glare. “Come on, Clarkey, let’s be real. You guys have been beating around the bush for way too long.”
“Wha—“
“You’ve been fucking Lexa for six years,” Octavia states bluntly as she leaves the dressing room. When Clarke’s eyes go wide as saucers, the bride-to-be can only roll her eyes. “We’re your friends, Clarke. We have eyes and functioning brains.”
“You moved in together,” Raven points out the obvious. “And no, it wasn’t for comfort or to avoid paying two rents or whatever lie you tell yourself to feel better.”
“So,” Octavia starts when Clarke is still unresponsive. “What happened on the phone?”
Clarke wakes up to reality and stares at her phone like it holds all the answers to her questions. “We have- we have this special goodbye thing—“
“Oh yes, the ‘I don’t love you’ shit. Lamest shit ever, if you ask me.”
“No one asked you, Rae,” Octavia chides with a pointed glare. “Go on, Clarke.”
“And she- she forgot the ‘don’t’ and said I love you.” Her two friends hug her, though exactly why they’re not certain.
“Well, it was bound to happen,” Raven comments, now more understanding. “You’ve been giving each other heart eyes since like the second or third year of your little arrangement. Then Costia showed up and you were miserable and it kind of made us doubt Lexa’s feelings for a moment but… Well, we all know how that turned out. And the heart eyes are even more pitiful since then.”
“But we had an arrangement,” Clarke argues. “We weren’t friends—“
“She’s your best friend.”
Clarke glowers Octavia into silence. “There weren’t supposed to be any feelings—“
“Yeah, you definitely got that covered,” Raven sneers.
“We didn’t have any chemistry!” Clarke whines. “This was not supposed to happen, we don't have any chemistry.”
By now, Raven and Octavia are staring at her with matching frowns. “Clarke, sweetie, if there is one thing you and Lexa have, that’s chemistry,” the light-eyed brunette reveals. “It was obvious from day one.”
“Yeah, I even bet Anya on long it would take you two to get together,” Raven adds, rather unnecessarily.
“But I- I wasn’t attracted to her.”
“Maybe you weren’t,” Octavia shrugs pensively. “Two people having chemistry doesn’t mean they want to jump each other the minute they meet. You guys had physical chemistry, regardless of physical attraction. You’re not always immediately attracted to the love of your life. But then, you know, as people get to know each other, different kinds of attraction start to develop, and feelings are a natural consequence.”
“Yeah, no one really believes in love at first sight,” Raven supports. “There can be immediate attraction, but that’s not even a must. And if you want my honest opinion, I think that love that grows from nothing is even more precious than love that comes from that instant spark. It was built on getting to know each other, slowly but surely, rather than being rushed by that surge of first-sight attraction.”
“But our arrangement,” Clarke tries feebly.
“Look, Clarke, if you want my opinion, I think you and Lexa are meant to be together.”
“I agree with Raven,” Octavia chimes in. “And I think you do too. You guys have been so worried about your rules that you failed to notice that you’ve really been a couple all along.”
Clarke is still freaking out, her friends’ words still reach her with slight distortion, but she’s starting to understand. There is a reason why she never clicked with anyone else since Lexa, even if she tried. There is a reason why she was so miserable when Lexa was dating Costia. There is a reason why Costia broke up with Lexa out of jealousy. And there is most definitely a reason why Lexa moved into her apartment and they spend half of their nights just sleeping.
*
It’s Valentine’s Day and when Clarke enters their apartment, she finds Lexa standing there, candles paving the way to the bedroom, a single red tulip in her hand.
It is painfully reminiscent of the year that Lexa told her about Costia. Yet it’s also oddly endearing that Lexa is trying to replicate what she ruined that night.
Clarke walks in, closes the door, drops the keys onto the bowl. Her purse is now lying somewhere along the hall. She approaches just enough for Lexa’s whispers to be heard, but far enough for safety.
“Clarke,” the brunette croaks, tears already making her eyes shine. It’s only the second time she has seen Lexa even close to tears. “I’m sorry.” Clarke stiffens. This is not how she wants it to go. “I’m sorry that the moment I accidentally said- well, that- I was too much of a coward to call you back and ask me to meet you sooner.”
“Lexa, you don’t—“
“Yes I do, Clarke,” Lexa says earnestly. “I do, because despite it being an accident, it was also- I would not say purposeful, but it did have purpose to it. And truth.”
Clarke’s frown deepens in confusion. “What do you—“
“I love you, Clarke. I am in love with you and I hope that maybe, someday, you will love me half as much as I love you,” Lexa finishes simply, humbly.
Clarke’s only response? To jump into her best friend’s arms and initiate their most passionate kiss yet. She loves Lexa, Lexa loves her, and—
Wait.
Lexa doesn’t know Clarke loves her.
Clarke asks Lexa to return her to the ground and tucks a stray strand of brown curly hair behind an adorable tiny ear, her smile soft and elated. “I love you too, Lex.”
Lexa’s grin is even bigger than the one last year and when she gets down on both knees, Clarke’s eyes go wide and terrified.
“Clarke,” the brunette starts, offering Clarke the red tulip. It was never just a pretty flower. “We have spent seven years dancing around each other, going so far as dating other people, only to come back home. You are my home, Clarke. I love you and I want you, all of you, no rules and all strings attached. So Clarke,” Lexa restarts, clearly nervous, or maybe just really wanting to say her name, “will you be my girlfriend?”
\\*//
1 AC
For the first time in over eight years, Clarke and Lexa are not single on Valentine’s Day. Two red tulips sit inside a jar, intertwined, as two bodies writhe against one another on the bed.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Clarke rasps, unable to say any words outside of a vocabulary of four, maybe five interjections if we’re feeling generous.
Two pairs of breasts dance together, the nipples rubbing and edging Clarke closer to her climax. A strong arm circles her torso, while one of her own wraps around flexing shoulders. Soft whines sound from her neck, where Lexa is nuzzling her, too lost in her pleasure to even realise the sounds she’s making.
Clarke’s fingers are buried deep inside Lexa, who fucks herself on them to the rhythm of the thrusts of her own fingers into Clarke. Everything in the blonde’s mind and heart is Lexa, Lexa, Lexa, and she’s not sure she will ever be able to think anything else for the rest of her life.
Lexa speeds up her thrusts, her fingers curling inside Clarke’s heat and hitting that spot that drives Clarke to pierce her nails into the skin of the brunette’s back, which is slick with sweat and coiling with the muscles rippling underneath.
Clarke also curls her fingers, knowing her girlfriend is close. There is nothing she loves more than the resulting jerk of Lexa’s hips, who starts fucking herself on Clarke’s fingers harder, faster; begging for release.
With a whine that makes Clarke dizzy, Lexa starts nipping at the flesh of her throat and licking it better. It takes only a couple of well placed thrust and curls for Clarke to come undone.
Clarke falls, but she makes sure to take Lexa with her with a brush of her thumb against the brunette’s clit, and soon they’re both tensing, quivering, moaning, white pleasure exploding within and between them, yanks and pulls of pleasure delaying and delaying and delaying their warrior’s rest, always another wave of choking bliss that keeps them on the edge of reality, bodies trapped together and screams fusing as each woman worships the other’s name.
Finally, after what seems like days, they come back from their high, and fingers leave their nests to allow for an unrestrained embrace, arms tightening and pulling and vainly trying to make them one.
Lexa is the first to break her hold, hands searching for Clarke’s and entwining their fingers together, foreheads and noses and lips touching without merging just yet.
“I love you,” Lexa breathes. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Clarke fastens her legs around Lexa’s hips. “I love you too.”
The next day, they will ‘meet the parents’ again, reunite their friends, and announce the engagement. Tonight, though, the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
Clarke has long since moved beyond being elated that Lexa will spend the night or that they will wake up next to each other. Those things are her everyday now, her life. Still, she never ceases to be grateful for those times when each small step felt like a leap of faith, for it led them to where they are now.