She felt like shit. Her girlfriend had slammed the door. Lexa just stood there staring after her.
Clarke just left...it was past midnight.
She had to be somewhere. This was becoming normal... and every time she went to stop her. To ask. To beg.
The blonde just muttered under her breath. "Tomorrow. Ask me tomorrow."
The next day came and went. Clarke just ignored the question, as if it hadn't been said. Walls up. And what needed to be was left hung in the air, like a corpse that was overlooked despite the stench.
Lexa had enough. If Clarke wasn't going to tell her, she was going to follow her. Even if it led her to the ends of the Earth.