Hello there, this is my very first clexa one shot and I'm so sorry but it's filled with angst. If you liked it or not leave a review and let me know what should I do to make it better :)
I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!
Prompt: Five times you tried and one time you said something on the phone at 4 am.
The first time, it took you four bottles of rum. It took you, four bottles of rum and twenty four hours without sleeping to call her. It took you long nights whispering her name in your sleep. It took you panic and anxiety attacks on thursday because that was the anniversary of your mother's death and she wasn't there to hold you. It took you twenty six times of picking up the phone to actually call her. And what did you say? Nothing. You stood there in your room surounded by darkness, hearing a sleepy voice said something along the lines of "fuck off. I want to sleep in peace". You froze there after hearing her sweet voice, not knowing it was you because for some reason she didn't have you in her contacts. You froze there holding the phone tightly to your ear, trying so hard to make your voice make any sound and failing, one, two, three times. You fell to the ground in the small corner right next to your cabinet and you hung up and cried for the rest of the night. You didn't tell anybody, you cried alone like you used to since Clarke was gone. You held your breath every time Anya said you were a mess and that you needed help. You sighed at flowers because they reminded you of her. Because you hurt in every single way since she left.
The second time, it took you forty eight times to pick up the phone and dial her number. It took you two rain storms and five blackouts to press the button. It took you one week of morning sickness and three bottles of vodka to pronounce the words you needed her to hear. And you did call her, and she never picked up the phone, so you cried again, you sobbed because she was forgetting and you knew. You know Clarke more than anyone. Clarke didn't forgive easily, she didn't forget easily either but she was doing it. She was letting you go, and you just knew.
The third time, your room was full of papers, broken papers and empty bottles of vodka. You tried writing letters and you lost your mind in it. You failed at writing, you failed her.
The fourth time, you were crying silently in your bath tub, you tried to close your bloodshot eyes wishing sleep would come easily this time, but it never did. You heard the phone ringing but you didn't care, you didn't have strenght to go and answer it. It was probably Anya anyway, calling you again. You lie there limp, feeling nothing and everything at once, wishing time would go back and stop right there when you looked at her eyes for the last time. They were light blue breaming with tears, they were sad and angry. And every time you want to feel sorrow you just remember them, tearing you apart, Clarke hated you that day. You know she did. And you could deal with her hating you one day, maybe two but it was enough with the hate you have for yourself. So you wish time would slow by and let you go away, you wish selfishly the water could suck you out of this world. Because you don't want to live in a world where Clarke Griffin doesn't coexist with you.
The fifth time, you were drunk until your knees couldn't support you anymore, your words were slurred and your eyes blurry but you dialed the phone anyway. You knew the number by heart, she didn't answer it at first or second ring. She didn't answered but someone did. Someone who was not her and definitely not you. And you panicked. Because Clarke was really forgetting and you were drowning in your own missery.
You left your job a month ago, you couldn't write anymore. The words would stuck in your head and the writing wouldn't come out like you wanted. Your boss said you should take a time off but you just quit. You left your apartment two weeks ago because it reminded you too much of her and it hurt you, it hurt you endless times. You went to live in a hotel with your savings supporting you. Anya said you were behaving like a child and you know you were but you didn't care. The responsible and determined Lexa you once were was gone. You felt weak, stupid, useless. You still feel like that but you care less and less. And you still miss her. You miss her blue eyes and dorkiness, you miss her freckles at the bottom of her back, you miss her tiny shy smile and her brightest one too. You miss her voice, sultry and hot when horny and wanting you, and sweet and caring all the time she said "I love you too". You miss her more than anything. You miss her and you miss her love. Her sweet, fullfilling and comforting love.
You know you were and idiot that day, when she found out you were drowning yourself at drinking again, you know you were making everything harder and she trusted you and you failed her. But she left, you pushed her away though, you told her to leave you alone because you needed to drink, because it didn't matter how much she loved you or how much she fought for your heatlhtiness you were and will always be an alcoholic. She was with you for so long, she held you in your worst and she endured the worst days of your life and her life all together. And you didn't care when you held that bottle against your lips again, when you throw away all those years clean because of an stressful week at work because at some bad writing. You felt like a failure and you still feel like that. Because you promised to love her, to be okay, you promised and you failed.
Clarke never said a single thing, she just stayed until she didn't.
The sixth time, she answered right away. And you felt safe and sound. One tear slipped from your eye and a racked sob wrenched your chords, unkwon words fell from your lips, it hurt. God damm, it hurt.
"Lexa?" she said in a whisper. And you swore you died right there. "I know it's you." your lips quivered and you couldn't help but feel like dying. "Lexa. Please talk to me."
"Cla-cla" Your voice strained with sobs and drunkeness.
"Are you okay?" She sounded worried. But you weren't sure anymore. You wished she was worried but it's been months and you're not sure. "Lexa? Are you drunk?" You laugh bitterly because you are, you are more than drunk. You are broken and dying and just so scared.
"I am. Clarke" She sighed and you knew disappointment was written in her face. "I'm sorry. I can't anymore."
"What are you talking about?" you felt your knees failing you and you fell on the floor hard, making a hollow noise. "Lexa!? Are you okay?" you heard her voice in the distance and noded. She couldn't see you of course and somehow deep inside you, you know. She kept saying those words many times but you didn't really understand them.
"I love you, so much" You said weakly.
"Lex!? Please, don't do this. Talk to me. Where are you?" Your eyes started to blur and felt heavy. You were about to just lie there cold against the hard floor of your room. So you reached once more for the phone and held it to your ear.
"I'm sorry, love. Don't-don't...hate...me" Clarke yelled something you couldn't understand.
"Lex, please. Tell me where you are. I'm coming. Please stay awake. Hey, please I-I love you. I promise. I- please" You heard her sobs, you heard her strangled voice calling out your name, and keys sounding in the distance maybe a ignition car starting, you heard her until you didn't.