Ch.1 Hot Wire
Clarke was a reserved yet a determined woman, she holds herself close keeping to herself not because she doesn't trust or care to share. It's because she enjoys observing others—taking them in. People watching gives her inspiration and insight into the world around her, watching their character peer out from behind the mask they so desperately cling to. She finds it interesting when she sees the need, the sheer want in people to just be seen—to be noticed. The desire in most people to be recognized, to be reassured of their value was lost on her. Clarke already knew her value because she was the one who gave it to herself. She never felt that need to be recognizes or reassured. Clarke believes that art is everywhere as long as you took time to observe. There are always a hundred things that seem to be amiss in a day and only a few that seem right, but if you slow down and look. Really look around you; right there, in it's own little world are things that go unnoticed that are perfect. Like how tragically beautiful a lost balloon looks in the sky, like catching that exact moment a leaf lets go of it's home, or how a perfectly content elderly man sits on a bench with no where to go. Her father always told her to open her eyes and so every day she tries to leave them a little wider. The thing that stuck with her most since his passing was that he constantly reminded her to 'be better than who you were yesterday.'
And so she did.
She was.
Since then she holds herself to her own standard and no one else's. Clarke is a person that's rarely impressed or influenced by flattery. It never interested her to be fantastic in someone else's eye. It only mattered if she was doing good enough for herself.
Pre-production is underway on a new series called Royal Viridian. The last movie she did was very dark, post apocalyptic, and gloomy. She is more interested in modern film, where it is more about social interactions that she can relate to more so than science fiction depictions. She can draw anything on paper but having to constantly portray burley men in armor, 100 scared kids running around in the forest for survival, and murder was something she is relieved to get away from.
Clarke walks in to the lobby of Trigeda Studios where they were having the first read through for R.V. Usually all the important people attend like the director, main cast members, all head of departments, producers, and financiers. Although Clarke usually doesn't attend these meetings this far from production, Indra wanted her to work closely with this project. She had already met with the director on several occasions storyboarding his ideas. Clarke knew these would be on display today and wondered why Indra was so determined for her to attend.
"Clarke" a low serious demand beckoned the blonde out of her daze from looking around. The place was enchanting.
"Good, you are here. Follow me." Indra says turning on her heel.
She is wearing a tailored suit that fit her power pose effortlessly. Indra is the type of woman who thrives on duty and progressive development. She is strict, always on schedule, and took nothing less than perfect.
Clarke scurries behind her, hands wriggling around the strap, adjusting her leather bag that held her sketchpads, pencils, watercolor kit, and miscellaneous paper for storyboarding. If Indra needed an idea laid out for a director or production artist she called upon Clarke to whip it up in minutes. Illustrators weren't usually that involved in every day production but Indra was the best and had her department doing things that most production artists didn't do.
Clarke is the main Illustrator for Heda Production Company and has been their lead conceptual artist for two years now. She used to be a gaffer but ever since Indra saw her sketches lying strewn about after a long day of shooting, she was offered a new position. Indra is the most respected Art Director within the company and also one of the most demanding. It was to her own surprise how fast Clarke would excel in the trial run she gave the blonde and it was then she was given the permanent position of Illustrator. Her job consists of creating storyboards for directors and actualizing concepts envisioned by the production designer and art director. Not only did she adhere to those roles she is often consulted with in many other projects with in the department.
"Bellamy, this is Clarke. She is my Illustrator for concept designs in production." As they collected the last of her tools, they stood up together locking eyes. He noticed how blue her eyes were and seemed to lose himself. Clarke on the other hand was completely mortified, nervously opening her sketchbook to a blank page and waited for Indra's descriptive demand.
The first week Indra had Clarke as her 'second' she was talking to a very prodigious producer, she wanted him to hire her production company for his next film. Clarke remembers standing at her side; in awe of the set they were currently on. The studio was huge and they had built their very own forest inside, grass, creeks, trees, and even animals were ready for shoot. She was so enamored with the artistic scope of production that she barely heard Indra call her name. She wanted Clarke to produce the idea that they have been talking about but she clearly wasn't paying attention. The look Indra delivered her was made mostly of an ebony jaw line and a vein that was too eager to make its presence known. Clarke immediately scrambled for her sketchpad and pencils only to have them bust all over the floor. The blonde was so embarrassed she didn't look up to see Indra pinch the bridge of her nose and mumble something under her breath. Flustered she quickly falls to her hands and knees to grab her pencils that were all too betraying— rolling away from her. She was then met with soft brown eyes and wavy hair that rested so kindly on his cheekbones. He crouched down, looking at the blonde with a smile, and helped her pick up her things. Indra noticed his reaction and decided to use that to her advantage. She was always observing and using anything to gain an upper hand.
"Nice to meet you, Clarke" He finally said amused as he watched her fall in to line. He laughed a little knowing Indra's reputation and seeing the girl fumble under command was intoxicating. Oh, how he wanted to display his dominance like that in a different way.
"Clarke, this is Mr. Blake. He is a highly revered producer." He smiles at the introduction and waited for Clarke to recognize his greatness. Clarke looked up, tucking a piece of her hair that was in the way behind her ear, "Hello Mr. Blake, I…I'm sorry about that. I have never been in a studio like this, it's stunning." Indra stepped back and smiled, seeing that Bellamy was completely smitten with her already. She named the blonde her second because she was her right hand. She had an assistant for mundane tasks but Clarke had to understand her ideas before she even spoke them. Indra noticed Clarke had an intuitive sense that just needed a bit of discipline. Little did she know how intuitive and great the girl would be. "That is quite alright Clarke, It is very nice to meet you." Bellamy smiled wide, showing his white teeth that sat elegantly in between his creased cheeks. Clarke couldn't deny the man was handsome. But something about him influenced her to manifest an attitude. She had no idea what it was about him but he was arrogant and she could smell it. She just nodded in reply, looking up to Indra for help from the thirsty trap of his brown eyes.
"Now Clarke, I will need you to pay full attention in there to what the director and I are saying. Even if I don't need you to sketch anything, I want you to observe him and the cast members in the room. He will be describing his vision in each scene and you will need to try and use their faces in them when you sketch. I know you have already storyboarded with him but please be ready for modification at any moment. After they read through the first episode, I expect you to pin scenes up on the board. This way they all get visual representation of the setting and the overall atmosphere he wants the actors to portray."
They step into the elevator as Indra continues her instruction. Clarke listens intently but she can't help but feel the nerves rolling up her legs. She is glad she wore her professional comfy attire today because she is starting to sweat a little. Clarke is wearing navy blue slacks and a white button up short sleeve blouse tucked into her thin tan belt. This was her first project of this kind and she knew that they would be more demanding on her through out production. Filming a T.V. show is a lot different than filming a movie. Movies were locked in and understood from a beginning to an end, conceptually. She would have sketches and storyboards made during development and would be required to illustrate elaborations from them seldom through out production. But this was so hands-on and dynamic; she just wants to do a good job. She nervously pins her wavy hair up into a messy bun as she tried to cool off, a few tendrils fall framing her face.
"I know this will be different for you Clarke but you have proven to be extremely valuable to me. I've been wanting to thank you for your hard work and your unwavering willingness to do what I ask." Indra states, staring straight forward, rigid and as stoic as ever.
Clarke swallows deeply in her throat at what Indra is saying. The woman never thanked anyone, let alone administered compliments. Granted Clarke has done more for this woman than the job description but to be appreciated by her was everything.
"Thank you Indra, that means a lot. I look up to yo—"
"That being said, I expect nothing more than perfection from you in there today. We will be doing a lot of read throughs before production and I want every actor to know the producers and directors desires like they are their own."
And like that, the moment is gone. Clarke grins at the almost sentiment they shared and replies, "Yes Indra, I will do my best."
The elevator dings and they arrive on the top floor of the studio office building. The building wasn't elegant on the outside, all covered in stone and concrete, but the inside was modern and chic. There were 5 floors and on every one, there was a new theme. However different each floor was from another, it some how tied together.
The top floor was made mostly of windows and rooms, the windows allowed light to hit all the movie posters that line the walls. They display every movie/work that was ever filmed here, so it created a sense of grandeur of success. Clarke has never been to this studio. Trigeda Studios was very well known in the industry and most film crew died to work here for any job. Raven wouldn't shut up about it for weeks when they heard they landed the project. Not only because it will be consistent stream of money, but also because we get to spend most of our time here. Clarke promised to give her a play by play of her day when she got home, more so who is acting in it and who is the hottest.
They walk down the wide hallway passing a gear shaped reception area that opened up to a wide arena. Clarke is impressed at the architecture of this building enjoying the liberty they took with the furniture and décor to emphasize their brand. Two assistants open a conference room with tall double doors, it seems to her that this was their duty for the day so no one hurt themselves trying to enter because these doors are massive, running up all the way to the ceiling—half a foot thick. The handles appear to be half gears that are as large as an arm that form a full gear when closed. The symbol was notoriously known for power and excellence, attaching itself to the Trigeda name.
Clarke edges inside along Indra's step and observes the room. Surrounding the windowed walls are tables full of food and beverage. The main conference table is long, wooden, and obviously handmade. It stretches through the large room at least fifteen feet long, a solid slice of a trunk of a tree, and the grain is unlike anything Clarke has ever seen before. Each chair looks handcrafted and carved to portray a new element naturally present in the wood. Despite being hand carved, they were retrofitted office chairs that rolled with ease upon command.
She notices the producer and director are already inside drinking coffee with a few other classy looking individuals who have gear pins on their lapels, obviously buzzed about the beginning of production. Development took several months to green light because it was hard to find enough financial backing. But Trigeda Studios caught wind of the pitch and jumped on the opportunity to tackle this modern series along with an interested producer.
"It is a pleasure to be working with you again" Indra shakes the producers hand and steps aside to reveal her secret weapon that is Clarke.
At this moment Clarke realizes why Indra was adamant on bringing her. She delivers a half smile and steps forward to shake his hand. She had no idea he was in on this project; the inkling inside Clarke tells her that her attendance might not all be for the sake of the show.
"Indra, it has been awhile," he shifts his gaze to the blonde "Too long I would say…" He stands to greet them, extending a hand to Indra and then to Clarke. He is wearing a grey Desmond Merrion hand-tailored three-piece suit. He always dressed well and wasn't afraid to wear his wealth. The suit he is wearing is worth well over forty large. His hair is composed yet holds a playful bounce around his signature grin.
She grips his hand hard and plays her part, "Nice to be working with you again Mr. Blake."
She swears she sees hunger behind those eyes as soon as she addresses him. His stare makes her shift weight on her tan high heels clearing her throat. He shakes her hand then as soon as she tries to let go, he lifts her hand up to his lips and lightly presses them on the back of her hand.
"Always a pleasure bellezza bionda"
Indra grins stepping aside to shake the hands of the other higher ups letting Mr. Blake indulge. He holds his lips long on her hand, more than a gentleman should. She keeps her stern gaze upon his browns allowing him to finish. She can't deny he is flattering when he speaks Italian and when he respects her like some princess. They had become familiar during his film Pike's Predecessor; where he was all too friendly. Clarke knew Indra used her to get Heda Co. the film and she played along to please her. However, his intentions were apparent when he would show up on set far too often on the days Clarke was needed. His excuse would always be, "I'm hands on in everything I do."
At this time the cast members walk in causing him to break his ogle but he doesn't let go of her hand. Clarke turns her head to see whom they hired. To her surprise they were all women. Clarke knew this was a modern T.V. show that was focusing on the LGTBQ community but she had no idea that the cast was mostly women—absolutely gorgeous women. She rests her wait on the back of her heels as she watches the women pile in. Clarke can't deny that women always affected her more than men. The first is stunning; she looks like someone from an exotic place in the Eastern hemisphere. Unlike anyone she has ever seen, she has elongated features, and high cheekbones—eyes sitting confidently on top of them. Her demeanor is of a serious note; to Clarke she seems rough, like she went through a hard time at one point in her life. Her observations happen within seconds; Clarke is exceptional at reading people to where she could gather all the information she needed about a person to advance in any situation. The next one is just as beautiful; she is shorter than the first but held her own—dangerous in way, like she usually got her way. Her dark brown hair, penetrating deep blue eyes, and her tan skin created a serious package. Clarke finds her contrasting features ultimately attractive but she didn't really like this one, something about her felt like all façade.
Clarke turns just like everyone else to greet the slew of women but what she didn't realize is that Mr. Blake is still holding her hand.
That is until the third woman walks in.
Clarke looks down for a brief moment when a warm feeling begins to radiate from her toes, she turns her attention back to the entrance and her eyes go involuntarily wide, her heartbeat slows, and her mouth goes dry. The first thing she notices are her unbelievable green eyes, they are delicate yet determined. As soon as the actress shifts her sight to the blonde, her heart kicks into gear and takes off. Her chestnut hair falls graciously over her left shoulder curling around her slender formed body. Clarke is frozen; breath barely escapes as her eyes make their way down over her resounding cheekbones, to her perfect nose, to her lips—where they halt—Damn… lips… Clarke parts her own to allow more air in her lungs when she notices the actress glance at her hand in Mr. Blake's raising an eyebrow and smirks before turning to her seat. Clarke notices the lift of her lips into this kind of smile that effortlessly cups the underside of her cheek… that smile is—
she then realizes her hand is gripping harshly at Mr. Blake's like she just fell off balance and quickly regains composure yanking her hand away in total regret. Great… She thinks to herself. She blushes and questions why she feels so spotlighted all of the sudden. When she looks back up the girl is already sitting down and preoccupied with the script that lies in front of her. She can't get a read on the girl, her heart sputters at the loss of electricity.
What the hell was that?
Clarke evaluates her reaction to the girl. Her palms are sweaty and her heart is beating against her chest like she just had a near death experience. But in this case she would call it a near life experience, for she has never felt this vibe from just being in someone else's proximity. She has never felt so aroused. Three more girls and then one guy come walking in to complete the arrangement along the tree table. Indra is seated on the other side and has a seat saved for Clarke. She glances at Mr. Blake once under her brow before making her way to the other side of the table. He grinned at her trying to figure her out. The director starts to speak into his ear and while leaning down to listen, his eyes never leave the blonde as she takes her seat. Clarke notices, feeling like the whole room is watching her she bites her lip in nervousness. But she doesn't care about the whole room; all her energy is flowing to one particular seat.
She sits down in her chair that is conveniently placed right across from green-eyes. She steals a peek toward the girl but swiftly darts her eyes down to her bag when she catches those disarming eyes looking back. Shit… Clarke smiles into a rejuvenated blush and digs her watercolor paper and sketchpad out to begin the meeting. Get it together Clarke.
Chitchat commences as everyone gets food and drinks while getting comfortable in their seats. Clarke gets her favorite pencil sharpened, her travel watercolor set out and some water and starts sketching the room. The director speaks to each of the suits before he begins the meeting. Once he shakes Mr. Blake's hand he begins,
"Welcome to the first read through of Royal Viridian!" They all applaud and holler with excitement.
"I first want to extend my thanks to Trigeda Studios for catalyzing this beautiful project into production, and most of all I would like to thank Mr. Blake for entrusting me to run the show. For those of you who don't know, my name is Finn Collins." Some who knew his reputation clap in this moment. Clarke is already sketching away in her book to warm up; she starts sketching Finn's flowing hair and his chubby cheeks. He seems too young to be a renowned director but he bleeds pompousness so he must be of caliber. During their meetings together he definitely made sure to show it to the blonde.
"I am personally treating this show as my own child, this will be—"
Clarke zones out feeling an overwhelming desire to look at her again.
Why am I so nervous?She rolls her shoulders trying to relax and as slowly and as nonchalantly as she can, Clarke turns her head to look across the table at the girl. She finds her looking at Finn with her hand below her chin, fingers resting on the pad of her thumb, occasionally nodding at what he is saying with a slight smile. Her smile never reaches her eyes but she raises the corner of her mouth so lightly like he doesn't quite impress. This makes Clarke grin with satisfaction as she starts to sketch the girl. Her other hand lay across the script while the one below her chin props up her gaze. Her features are so soft yet sharp enough to turn her pencil in a completely new direction. She doesn't want to stop looking at the way her skin hugs her body, the light making it glow in certain areas and shadows over others to where all you want to do is reveal what they hide. Clarke feels a shift in the air and turns to find the other actress blasting her with a fierce icy stare. Clarke doesn't avert her eyes; only she shifts to a blank page and begins sketching the sass right off her face. She isn't intimidated, in fact she is intrigued on why she has such emotion pouring out of her. When Clarke doesn't seem affected by her glare, the girl scoffs and turns her gaze back to the director and then steals a glance at green-eyes. Clarke notices, taking note that they might know each other. This causes her lips to purse and her legs to cross subconsciously.
"And now I would like everyone around the table to introduce themselves before we begin."
Clarke doesn't notice him wrapping up his speech until green-eyes opens her mouth. She whips away from the fierce one as soon as she hears a voice that hugs her ears in delight.
Oh my god… that can't be how she sounds. Fuck… Clarke turns to focus on her once again.
"My name is Lexa Woods, I am from Australia but moved here to expand my acting career. I am really glad I did because I have been given so many great opportunities and this one by far is one I am most excited about. I will be playing Alycia Taylor."
Okay, hello Alycia… Clarke's mouth can't seem to shut itself as her heart slows back down to a crawling rhythm. She notices her breath slows too, where it feels like she can't breathe. Tearing away from the trance, she winces down at the table trying to catch her breath. I should really call my mom after this; there is seriously something wrong with me… She chalks it up to some kind of arrhythmia.
Clarke closes her eyes clamping down on her chest in a jerk reaction, noticeably enough where Indra leans forward to look at her.
"Are you alright?" She whispers.
Clarke nods it off, taking a deep breath and returns her attention to the cast introductions. Glancing over Lexa, who is looking at her in concern, she darts her attention elsewhere and starts to sketch the other girl beside her wrapping up her intro.
"—and that's how I ended up here. I will be playing Carey Adon."
Clarke manages to miss her real name but sketches her anyway with her screen name below her. Now it was the fierce girl's turn to speak and her voice matches what Clarke figures it would sound like—sharp, forward, confident and bitchy.
"My name is Costia Villeneuve and I will be playing Siobhan Fraze. I've been an actress since I was 4 and am the daughter of Grant and Frida Villeneuve, the all time director and star of the Hollywood classic era. I am here because I wanted to experiment with my sexuality, plain and simple."
Wow, flaunt yourself much?
Clarke sketches her with a bit more caricature essence than she normally does with a tiny quote beneath 'Hollywood Classic Bisexual Breed'. This makes Clarke laugh to herself, which was more out loud than she would have liked. Looking around she is thankful that no one really noticed…except her.
Of-fucking-course.
She was doing that half smile thing that Clarke realizes is a huge factor in her sudden arrhythmia. Damn it… She averts her eyes back down to her sketch.
She focuses on shading and adding some color with her watercolor set when suddenly it was her turn to speak. Clarke hadn't realized she would be introducing herself until it was dead silent with Indra nudging her from the left. She looks up and finds all eyes are on her. Clarke isn't usually afraid to do anything in front of a crowd but her eyes glimmer over the green eyes stuck on her and she chokes.
"He…" she clears her throat "Hello everyone, my name is Clarke Griffin. I am the illustrator and conceptual artist in this project." Picking herself up she regains confidence; "I have never worked on a T.V. series before but have worked on movies with many great people such as you and cannot wait to begin this journey. I am happy to be a part of the LGTBQ community and I believe this project will create a new standard in entertainment as well as destroy the trope out there that kills off our representation. I'm glad to be a part of something that I've looked for in television growing up. I would like to thank Indra and Trigeda Studios for this opportunity."
Clarke surprises herself with how much she revealed but it felt right. A few claps around the room erupt, including her with that damn smile. Clarke smiles nodding her head as she averts her attention to Indra, purposefully avoiding the verdigris gaze.
"My name is Indra Malone and I am the Art director of this project. I also am family to the LGTBQ community and am proud of how far we have come creating a standard in film and television. I am happy to say that we will push those boundaries in this show. Thanks to Trigeda Studios, Mr. Blake, and Mr. Collins we will be able to show the world what we can do. Now lets work hard and make this pilot into the next hit new series of the year."
She looks down at Clarke and gives her a smirk; obviously she changed her introduction to pair well with hers and was thankful for it.
During the meeting, Clarke sketches out the introduction scene after the director describes what he wants to open with, she sketches the bars that they will frequent, and the homes that they live in based on the main character's personality they portray. Then she focuses on sketching each of the cast members as they read their lines. She tries to sketch in the moment their expression, atmosphere, and feeling. How each person makes her feel versus how they portray their character to feel. She learns their names, Anya, Costia, Ontari, Echo, Fox, and Nathan. Mostly Clarke focuses on Alycia (is that her name?), who has the most lines so it made it easy to stare and sketch her most often. In this moment, the artist internally thanks Indra for dragging her to this meeting and wishes that it would never end.
At the end of the meeting everyone is cheerful and vibing off of a fantastic first reading. Indra thanks Clarke for her good work and proceeds to approach the suits for a post-meeting meeting. Picking up her things she doesn't even bother looking up to find green-eyes. Even though she desperately wants to. She figures she would be long gone with her busy actress life and Clarke doesn't need to feel her heart freak out on her again anytime soon. Clarke always secretly wanted to become an actress but was realistic with her ability, being part of the film crew was as close as she was going to get. Where she is now, is actually way further into her passion than she realized. She loves art and film, so being able to do both was more than she could have dreamed.
Taking a deep breath, she put the last of her supplies in her bag and makes her way around the suits, avoiding Mr. Blake's stare. Once she exits the room, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders and couldn't wait to get home to Raven. As she began her gallant steps toward her escape she gets interrupted.
"Hey, the artist Clarke, right?"
The artist Clarke stops dead in her tracks. That voice…She couldn't turn herself around but she didn't need to because in a matter of moments she was by her side. She smells like sweet flowers and a musk she cannot place. The type that you would find after it rains in the middle of a meadow.
"That would be me" Clarke barely gets her voice to project noise but it sounds solid enough to be heard. She stands still, not moving her head or turning her body in greeting.
What does she want…what could she want…
"You're green—I mean Alycia right?" She nearly turns red at revealing her little nickname for the girl.
"Um…No, I am Lexa but I will be playing Alycia. Nice to meet you." Lexa moves from the blonde's side, stepping in front of her with a wide smile that reaches her eyes. She extends her hand expecting it to be shaken.
Clarke doesn't shake it.
She doesn't even register that she should be touching the girl right now— embarrassed she has been calling her Alycia in her head this whole time. Her smell and proximity hot-wires her heart again and she cannot seem to focus on moving. Lexa lowers her hand down with out a thought and steps closer.
"I saw you sketching in there and am curious to what you drew that made you laugh. May I see?" Her eyes are bright, interested and waiting for Clarke to react.
The blonde looks into those green eyes and decides to mentally kick her own ass into action,
" Um… yeah sure…" her confidence is wavering and it's pissing her off.
Not only does this girl make her heart malfunction but she loses all senses of herself. This does not please Clarke; she begins to feign annoyance as she reaches in her bag to grab her sketchbook.
She flips through a few pages, not realizing how many sketches she has of the girl and vehemently finds the sketch of Costia, hoping she hadn't seen them. Lexa just waits patiently stepping beside the artist again but leans in a lot closer. Lexa laughs lightly at the sketch, reading the caption underneath Costia. The sound of it causes Clarke to jump a little causing her to lean a few inches away. Mmm, shit…
"You're really talented…and funny." Her voice is low and sultry.
Is she trying to sound like that?
Clarke only hums, glancing at Lexa's partially unbuttoned blouse, to her collarbone, slowly up her throat and then to those lips.
Plump…
Lexa notices her gaze and leans further in, reaching her arm over the artist to unnecessarily touch the image with her fingers. The edge of Lexa's elbow glides up Clarke's bicep sending a searing charge to her thighs. Clarke subconsciously bites her lip as her eyes shift to the spot where they're touching; it burns like dry ice. But that is about the only dry place on her body in this moment.
oh god oh god oh—
She barely notices Lexa moving to flip the page. Her heart sinks when she sees the next page is of her green eyes in vivid detail and color with the caption 'Sexy Sage'. Clarke slams the sketchbook shut nearly closing Lexa's hand within the pages and shoves the book back into her bag.
"Sorry, I have to go." Clarke tucks her hair behind her ear walking quickly away as fast as she could. She curses when she approaches the elevators forgetting they were on the top floor. Clarke desperately glances behind her to the door labeled stairs but being several floors up she doesn't dare walk in high heels down five concrete flights. Shit shit shit…What she wouldn't give to have her Converse shoes on so she can run far away. This never happens, she is always on top of herself. But this girl is derailing her thoughts just as she has them. Her body rebelling against every law and lesson she has given it. This girl causes cataclysms inside of her, knocking down walls and uprooting her self-stature. She challenges everything Clarke understood about herself.
A few moments later she sees ankles wrapped in black leather Walter Steigers approach, she keeps her eyes on the floor.
Fuck…
As they wait for the elevator doors to open, the blonde feels her heart stabbing at her chest to escape; she winces and puts her hand to her chest as to urge it to calm the fuck down. Son of a biscuit eater… Christ on a cracker quit killing me damnit…. Living with Raven has definitely increased her use of profanities and she laughs internally at her current mindful monologue.
Lexa notices her in pain, steps closer and lightly places her hand on the artist's shoulder.
"Clarke, are you okay?"
Oh for Christ sake, don't say my name…Clarke perks up at the sound recoiling from the burn of her hand on her shoulder the pool between her leg becomes evident,
"Yeah, fine." She basically whimpers.
She doesn't mean to be so rude but her insides aren't really cooperating. To manage any sense of self, Clarke turns, strides to the door labeled stairs and busts through without hesitation. She screams in her mouth at how stupid she is being. After reaching the fourth floor, she removes her high heels and proceeds to take her time down the rest of them in hopes Lexa would be long gone by the time she makes it to the first floor. She approaches the doors to the lobby with caution, as she exits she looks out around the lobby and sighs. She is gone, okay… safe to say that was totally fucked.
"You know, I hear using the stairs with a heart condition is frowned upon"
The blonde jumps, nearly losing her balance.
For fucks sake!
Annoyance takes over her disposition; the artist tilts her head to the side to find Lexa leaning her back against the side of the stairwell entrance. After putting her heels on, Clarke turns around crossing her arms and tries to figure this girl out by looking her up and down. She couldn't get a read on her before, so she tries to find any information through that smug demeanor of hers.
Clarke shakes her head. The audacity on this one.
"You know nothing about my heart" she throws.
Clarke delivers a comeback with agitated confidence. Finding that she can trick her body into fortitude, she holds on to this newfound umbrage. She sees Lexa's cheek pull her lips into that dastardly grin she is teaching herself to dislike—an internal battle ensues.
They are but a yard apart committing themselves to a stare off, both girls unsure how to react to the other. Clarke's eyes flutter from her face to her body; just now noticing her attire. It's stylish yet casual with her fitted black slacks that stop before her ankles and some white Chanel looking blouse with black trim that bellows out poetically from being tucked into her slim waist. For a moment she wishes it were more fitted to her body.
Whatever, she isn't that hot… really sh—
Lexa has both hands in her pockets as she kicks off the wall wearing a side smirk. She struts toward the artist in slow motion. Well to Clarke it was definitely slow motion, the sway of her hips cutting through the air, her knees kicking the fabric of her paints out just to be pulled back in drove daggers into her core. Clarke notices the girl's overflowing confidence causing her thoughts to shut down leaving only curses to pile up in the forefront of her mind. She stands her ground.
"We'll see about that," she nearly whispers this into Clarke's ear as she brushes by shoulder to shoulder and exits out the front doors.
Meadow musk is—
Clarke scoffs as she picks up her metaphorical jaw off of the floor. She adjusts her bag on her shoulders with firm force and practically stomps out of the building.
We'll see my ass!She makes her way to the parking lot digging for her phone from her bag, as she taps on her favorites to call Raven she spots Lexa getting into a car with that Costia girl.
"Knew it…" Clarke says giving a glare in their direction.
"Knew what Griffin, you sound grumpy!" Raven remarks with amusement in her voice.
Clarke shakes her head, "You have no idea. This girl in the cast is…" She doesn't quite know what she is but it's nothing Clarke wants to figure out. Or so she tells herself.
"Is what? A total babe and you want to bone her already?" Raven laughs knowing Clarke's sexually frustrated voice all too well.
The blonde coughs into her phone and shakes her head furiously while unlocking her 59' Ford F-100. Her dad and her worked on this truck through out her teenage years. It was their little bonding project that they didn't get to finish. Clarke cherishes the car more than anything for it holds so many memories of him. One-summer years ago Raven finally convinced her to let her work on it so she could experience the car more than she was just letting it sit in the garage. They both worked on it over one summer and finally got it running. Since that summer Raven held a very special, very permanent place in her heart.
"Shut up Ray, like you know me…" Clarke jests starting her engine.
"Oh but I do, all too well if that summer has any constitution"
Clarke blushes at the thought, "Yeah whatever, so are you home? I need a drink. Care to celebrate?"
"Hell yeah princess, Always am! Where do you want to go?"
Clarke pulls out of her parking space to only stop short at a Mercedes blocking the exit. The blonde looks to the road, which has no traffic what so ever because they weren't even out of the studio grounds yet and back to the vehicle purposefully in her way.
"What the hell…" She narrows her eyes at the car in fury. The top of the Mercedes begins to fold down revealing its convertible capability. Clarke notices it's Costia and Lexa sitting in the car blaring her expensive sound system, obviously flaunting her 2016 Mercedes S-class with read leather seats.
Hollywood Bitch.
"What?!" Raven inquires from the other end of the line.
Clarke watches Costia grin as she lowers her sunglasses delivering an obvious wink toward the blonde. She scoffs at the gesture and rolls her eyes.
"This girl Costia is definitely a Hollywood bitch, she is blocking my fucking exit!"
Clarke shifts her sight to the brunette in the passenger seat, who is staring intently at her. But she doesn't carry the same attitude, she almost seems sweet sitting there with her arm resting on the edge of the door. Costia narrows her eyes and floors the Merc forward, sending the brunette's head back into the seat not breaking her smile or eye contact toward the blonde.
"Wow, lady drama already! This shit is going to be fun… Ram into her!" Raven encourages.
"Ugh, meet me at Polis!"
Sage the Gemini- Gas Pedal
Clarke hangs up the phone and careens forward, easing her foot further and further on the gas pedal—her speed increasing. The road out to the main gate was long and she can see the girls slowing down ahead at a stop sign, clearly just peeling out to antagonize her.
Clarke grabs her Ray Ban aviators from the dash and slides them over the bridge of her nose; these were her favorite because they fit her face perfectly. She ignores the stop sign; flying passed the flashy Mercedes with a rev, her hand out of her window wiggling her fingers as she skids out onto the main road. Clarke knew this truck well and isn't one to back down from a challenge. She is thankful for the upgraded engine Raven convinced her she wouldn't regret—definitely not regretting it in this moment.
Not long after speeding down the road, a familiar white Mercedes advances up beside her truck. Clarke's blonde hair is flying in the wind—her windows open and she is wearing a defiant smile. Glancing over to see both girls smiling her way, obviously impressed with her antics she lowers her sunglasses and parrots a wink back at the feisty bitch. Costia shifts her sunglasses down her face in reply, looking at her truck and then to the blonde. She blows a kiss at her before shifting her glasses back up against her face. Clarke steals a look at her passenger and finds her biting her lip towards her with a hooded stare. This makes the artist clench her legs together from the heated wave crashing down her stomach to her knees. She swears she sees that damn smile inch across her face but as her turn was coming up she slows down and shifts her head forward trying not to smile too wide. The Mercedes flies by with a couple honks. She glances up to road to see a set of hands rise to the sky, fingers wiggling a farewell.
Clarke shakes her head and utters, "fucking women."
A smile lingers against her fair skinned chin.
-
"You're a god damn disappointment to lesbians everywhere, she was hitting on you and you ran. Literally ran away!" Raven shakes her head knocking back the rest of her beer.
"Yeah well, if that is so then you are the one to blame." Clarke signals the bartender for two more shots of whiskey.
"Pff how do you figure?"
"You are the one who got me out of the closet, you are the one who set the standard miss 'just try it see if you like it'" Clarke laughs and downs the shot with out waiting on Raven, who is wide-eyed and smiling at the memory.
"Oh but you liked it princess. You couldn't wait for me to come back and work on the truck the next day." She takes her shot.
"Shut up betch, it was fun and you were relentless. We got so much closer after that summer and I am forever grateful." She winks at the mechanic only to see her jaw drop.
They are sitting at the bar, a few drinks in when a group of girls walk through the entrance. Raven is sitting with her legs spread toward Clarke as she watches Bay Watch enter the bar.
"Someone give me a shovel because I am digging what I'm seeing right now… Clarke look." Raven pushes at her with out breaking her gaze.
Clarke turns to see what all the fuss is about and notices Costia at the front of the pack. Rolling her eyes she turns back to Raven.
"That is the Hollywood bitch I was telling you about!" She whispers over before glancing back.
She isn't going to lie; her heart starts to pick up speed as she looks for green-eyes knowing she would probably be with her. Clarke notices a few other cast members with them, then she spots Mr. Blake and Finn walk up from behind like the caboose of the tramp train. Clarke is salty, quickly tucks her head into her beer and hopes he wouldn't notice her. She isn't usually this cruel in her thoughts; she let people do their thing regardless of her own principles. She liked when people were wild and different, but today was a wrench thrown into her. They train heads back toward the blocked off VIP section that oversees the bar, reservation only.
"Well there is the whole cast with Mr. Blake and the director Finn Collins." Clarke states for Raven's benefit. Disappointment hits her tongue, as she doesn't see the brunette anywhere. She brushes it off and orders a double for herself.
"Shit on my dick Clarke, they are so fucking hot! We get to work with them for six months!" She rubs her palms together as if a bonfire was just lit before her.
"Gross Raven, you never cease to disgust me with your mouth."
Raven laughs out loud and turns toward her, "You never complained about my mouth when it was all ov—"
Clarke shoves her hand over her best friend's mouth and flicks her on the forehead.
"You can be quiet now!" she huffs as the bartender grins at their playfulness and sets her double whiskey in front of her.
She sighs at herself at this whole day, taking the whiskey to bathe her lips.
"What has gotten you so huffy and gruffy today Griffin? I've never seen you so worked up." She inches closer propping her elbow on the bar to rest her chin in concern.
As Clarke takes a long drag of her whiskey a familiar bouquet invades her senses, her heart reacts just the way she hates. Raven was going to continue her questioning but words caught in her throat once she sees this stunning creature walk up towards them.
"How's that heart of yours?" a silky voice drawls in her ear. Blue eyes shoot open, taken aback from Lexa's sudden proximity she chokes on her whiskey and leans forward to catch the dribble begging to be let out.
Lexa smiles at her affect on the blonde, winks at her friend and continues to walk toward her group in the VIP section.
"God Clarke, are you okay?" Raven turns her head toward the girl that just whispered in Clarke's ear.
"And who the hell was that?! She is fine AF… like god damn…" Her head is still turned when Clarke looks up after her.
She doesn't like Raven looking at her like that so she punches her right square in her vagina,
"Keep Pauna in your pants Ray!"
Raven scrunches forward grabbing at herself with a muffled Urrmmph.
"Jesus Clarke, jealous much?" She rubs at her pelvic bone.
"Now I know why you are in such a fucking rut…"
Clarke groans into her whiskey forcing herself to take it all in one huge gulp.
"That's her…"
Raven laughs, "I figured as much, what did she say to you?"
"Nothing. She just wants attention, which I refuse to give her. I am sure Mr. Blake and Finn-tastic over there will do the job." Clarke glances over to the group and notices Mr. Blake's arm draped over her shoulders while Finn has her hand in his. She feels sick. Bitter and exhausted from her heart's constant abuse she stands up. She doesn't need this shit.
"I'm going to the bathroom, then we are leaving." She says dryly, pivoting to head toward the bathroom near the front.
Raven calls out to her, "I guess I'll grab the tab!" shaking her head as she gets the bartenders attention.
Clarke hears her but doesn't acknowledge because she is too busy scolding herself for reacting with out a thought. She usually isn't like this. Calm and collected was her modus operandi. This—she has no idea what this is. Never has a blanket of 'what the fuck' been so thick over her eyes to where she can't gauge the situation.
Just as she leans down to splash water on her face the door opens,
"Not now Raven…" Clarke doesn't open her eyes, she just breathes into the cold water that drips over her lips. Taking in the cool contrast from her hot skin.
A bundle of towels are presented to her, "Thanks" she says curtly drying her face before looking into the mirror. Except it isn't Raven she sees standing next to her.
"What do you want?" Clarke spits out with disdain more for herself than anything.
The green-eyed girl shifts back on her heal and just stares at the blonde for a beat. "Are you always this way?" She asks with her arms crossed.
Her voice down right sweeps Clarke's heart off its betraying feet and causes her to swallow deeply. She isn't always this way, in fact she is never this way and she hates that this Lexa is causing her this much damage.
"You're hot when you think so hard, you know that?" Lexa steps forward into her personal space.
Clarke freezes, not knowing what to say. Even if she did have something to say she doesn't think it would come out with enough gusto to breech an ear. That meadow must engulfs her senses making her eyes shut focusing on standing up right. She feels Lexa inch closer with out invitation, her heat prickling at Clarke's skin. She suddenly feels self-conscious and doesn't know what to do with the feeling, for it hasn't been actualized since her middle school social. The sudden burn of her thighs, the white-hot pang in her chest, and the dryness of her throat exasperates her insides. She resists the feeling yet at the same time she swims in it. This girl probably gets what she wants all the time; she has no sense of humility. She is so infuriating yet so intoxicating.
Clarke wants nothing more than to shove this feeling out of her. Her eyes snap open and she shoves Lexa instead. Backing her into the nearest wall by her hips causing a sharp exhale to escape the girl so harshly that Clarke feels it against her lips. She hesitates for a brief moment staring at petal plush. With out thinking she crashes her mouth against those plump succulent lips that she can't stop thinking about, pushing her into a bruising kiss. She hears a whimper escape from the girl but it doesn't resonate. The blonde is angry with herself and annoyed at the persistence of her green eyes always finding their way passed her sanity. She wants to make Lexa feel what she feels inside; she wants to make her malfunction, she wants to…. she wants to…
She wants to kiss her.
She is kissing her.
Her lips are delicate against Clarke's force, easing into her lips aggression. She lightens the pressure falling into the rhythm Lexa is urging for. She lets Lexa's bottom lip in between her grasp and sucks on it. Clarke glides her tongue along its edge before lunging inside of her awaiting mouth. Lexa turns her head with a quick inhale deepening the kiss, tongues lapping, teeth biting… Oh god… This time it's Clarke who whimpers.
Mmm—wait—what—mm—fuck
Their bodies are rocking into each other but neither hands dare to explore. Clarke's hands grip at her hipbones, while Lexa's are clamping into fists against the tile. The artist starts to regain her composure and pulls away abruptly.
Flipping the switch back to reality, she bites her own lip in frustration before stepping back and releasing her grip from her hips.
"There… Is that what you wanted?" She breathes heavily, her voice stained with a mixture of confusion and venom.
Lexa hasn't moved from the wall. She just breathes—lips parted wavering ever so slightly. Clarke looks at her, remembering how her hips felt against her palms, remembering the burn of her lips against her own. Lexa's olive eyes now a deep sage. The blonde notices the brunette's chest rising and falling challenging her blouse's tucked resolve. They stay feet apart just breathing between a look.
The look.
"Clarke! The hell! Lets g—" Raven beckons, storming into the bathroom looking for the grumpy girl. She stops mid-sentence and mid-stride when she sees two ruffled looking women staring at each other with predacious fervor. She looks from Clarke to green eyes to Clarke again. She isn't sure if they fucked or fought but wants to interrogate her best friend immediately so she decides to intervene.
"What's going on?"
Clarke narrows her eyes before hoarsely saying, "Satiating ego". She was torn between earnest acceptance that this girl could want her and the theory of Lexa's selfish behavior that gets her what she is always used to getting. Easier to settle on the latter Clarke straightens herself up, cerulean piercing moss, and injects a cold "Lets go."
As soon as she utters those words a defiant polarity intertwines within her. She is satisfied yet disappointed in leaving her this way. Clarke was more conflicted and upset with herself than she was at Lexa. But unwilling to relinquish even the slightest of control she has left to a stranger that so instantaneously took it, she shoves the feeling deep down and justifies her actions.
Clarke takes long strides passed Raven, through the doors, and deep in the parking lot where she is swallowed by shadows.
"Clarke! Wait up, what the hell happened?" Raven runs close behind her into the back of the lot where neither of them had parked.
She finds the blonde turned with her hands on her hips, eyes to the sky. The mechanic waits for her friend to calm before approaching. She has known Clarke for a long time and they've been through everything together, so she knows when to push and when to let her be. So she waits, leaning against one of the cars they are in between.
"I have no idea what's happening to me Ray." Her voice sounds frail.
"Everything was fine, I was fine until she walks in to that conference room. It all went hot… I…" Clarke turns around, face flush.
"I couldn't control myself… I can't control myself around her. It's like… a force pulling me to her and my resolve, my confidence, my worth floods out of me into her. She drains me and I am so angry."
Raven listens waiting patiently for her to let it all out. She understood what Clarke was saying because she felt that way once. Her best friend when she was 18 had been this enigma to her. Raven fell in love with her and it was like every fiber of her being was torn from her leaving her an unraveled mess. But the girl had a boyfriend and their exploration of that love ended when she chose him. That was years ago but yet she still feels the force.
"Everywhere I turned today she was there. It doesn't matter if I want it Raven, something in me was forcing me to need it. I don't want to need something that bad." Clarke was feeling the effects of the whiskey and couldn't be more vulnerable if she tried. Her eyes fill with saline as she drops her shoulders in defeat.
This was Raven's cue that she could approach; pushing off the car behind her she scoops under Clarke's arms and pulls her into a loving embrace. She doesn't say anything holding her tight like she always does when she is weak. They have been best friends for 9 years and Raven was the only one she could be completely bare with. Clarke doesn't need comfort that often but when she does Raven is always there in the exact way she needs.
"What your feeling Clarke is synchronicity. A mild smack of destiny perhaps but it's unavoidable. Do you remember Octavia?" They hold each other, heads on shoulders.
"Of course I remember her, you were so in love with her. But Wh—"
"I felt like everywhere I went she was there, like the day I realized something about her resonated so deep within me the universe kept throwing her at me. It uprooted practically everything I thought was true inside of me and burned a light within that I couldn't ignore. I let it guide me where as she resisted and denied it. I know she felt it too but it's easier to run from something so involuntary and strong."
Clarke didn't want to compare what she experienced today to Raven and Octavia's relationship because it was so powerful and her experience today seemed so short lived and trivial. However she can't ignore the similarities when Raven describes this burn.
"Raven…" Clarke squeezes her tighter knowing how hard it is for her to talk about O. They were all friends, close friends, before them two became really close. But Octavia was also dating this guy named Lincoln at the time but none of it was serious until it was. Raven was devastated when she kept choosing him over her. Eventually she delineated from the group and never seemed to find the time to share. It was messy and handled horribly but she got through it. The pain lessoned everyday, never quite leaving her but it was manageable.
"We got through it didn't we?" Clarke sways their bodies side to side.
"We did. I just don't want you to do what Octavia did Clarke. She ran and fought so hard against something because she wanted control. I learned early on that letting go is a muscle you have to learn to use. If you strain and fight against life, against the flow of it, you will exhaust yourself into darkness. I fought for so long after she left, to not lose myself but I did anyway. I lost myself despite all the effort I exercised."
Clarke listens to her words as they calm her. One of the reason she loved Raven was because of her multitudinous nature. She was crass, vulgar, kind, reserved, outgoing, intelligent, gentle, stupid, harsh—she was everything all at once and Clarke was in love with her. Not in the way people usually used the term but she wanted all of her. Their love was deeper than kinship and shallower than lovers. However, there was a time where they explored the balance only to find their closeness didn't lie there. It was just special and they knew that.
They had gone silent for a while, still embracing each other in kind. Clarke's heartbeat returned to normal and her breath now peaceful.
"Want to do the thing?"
Raven jerked her head up pulling away slightly to look at her; "Really?" excitement filled her voice. "You never want to do it…"
Clarke just smiles at her as Raven's eyes light up and her grin stretches to her ears. She grabs Clarke's hand dragging her to her truck before she changes her mind.
-
Her stomach clenches at the sudden change in pace, if only Clarke knew how nervous she really is. Lexa's back smacks flat against the cold tile of the wall, her lips pulsing against a harsh assault. She can't stop the tiny whimper that escapes her, hoping the artist didn't hear it. She wasn't expecting this when she noticed the blonde excusing herself to the bathroom. Lexa wasn't sure why she followed, she just did.
The fire in the blonde fueled the dull flame within her—dull…
until today.
She feels a burn under her skin when Clarke touches her.
Ohmygod.
It is heated and wanted.
She feels the girl's tongue slip across her lip and then dip into her mouth.
Lexa aches for it, she wants more but doesn't dare ask for it. But she deepens the kiss anyway, only to be rewarded with a noise that could bring a king to his knees.
Fuck me...
The whole day was torn from regularity when she caught her sapphire gaze.
And like that, just as hard as she came, she is gone.
Her skin promptly turns cold once Clarke pulls away, the heat going with her.
Lexa's breath is heavy, missing the touch already.
What was that!Her knees are trembling; she wants to push off to taste her again.
She can't move, everything feels so detached; she can't seem to catch her breath.
Come on Lexa, grab her, take her, do it!
…
Just as Lexa was about to kick from that wall—
"There…is that what you wanted?"
… yes.The brunette's palms are now seeking refuge against the cold tile; they are sweaty and radiating heat. She wants more but she can't muster the courage to step forward. She can see it in her eyes; she feels it too.
Fuck it.
Lexa wants it, she got what she wanted most of the time but this feels different, like she needed it. She wants this more than she dares to admit, the rage against her was like air to desert laden lungs. No one has ever been so challenging and oh, how Lexa loves a good challenge. Pushing up from her heels she straightens up her bent knees and wipes her palms on her pants. She takes a few deep breaths and inches forward—
"Clarke! The hell! Lets g—" The bathroom door slams open causing her head to twist in reaction, an attractive brunette halts in the door way.
Did she say Clarke? How does she know her? Is that her girlfriend?
Lexa looks from the girl in the doorway back to Clarke.
Must be, the way she looks at her is obvious. They were pretty close at the bar… fuck. What have I gotten myself into?
"What's going on?"
Shit…nothing! We did nothing.
Lexa looks into the blonde's eyes not sure what she is going to do or say, so she just waits.
"Satiating ego."
What the hell?
She feels a clenching in her stomach, the venom in her voice is guttural and Lexa is beyond confused as to why she is so angry with her. In conjunction, she starts to feel it in return. Lexa clenches her fist and grits her teeth.
"Let's go." The blonde calls out a bitter demand to the other girl and is gone before Lexa could protest or inject her newfound frustration.
Satiating ego…
Lexa was pissed, like her ego was so disgusting to the blonde. She wants to chase after Clarke, girlfriend or not, she wants to tell her off. Storming out of the bathroom, through the front doors, she sees Raven running after her into the back of the parking lot. Lexa slows herself and thinks if she should continue with her rampage. She hears Clarke's stern voice talking and she finds her feet already moving closer. Inching along the building she guiles her way between cars to steal the sound.
"… I can't control myself around her. It's like… a force pulling me to her and my resolve, my confidence, my worth floods out of me into her. She drains me and I am so angry."
The pain in her voice makes Lexa's heart ache but the words she hears breathes new life into her. She listens intently but can barely make out her voice over her own heartbeat. Clarke's at a whisper now and she just wants to see her. She looks through the car she is hiding behind and sees her blonde hair glowing in the moonlight, her shadow more attractive than a silhouette should be.
She feels it too.Just as the elation to that fact flows through her she sees the brunette step into sight and wrap her arms around the blonde in a tight embrace. Clarke sighs into it and holds her in return.
Shit, that's not exactly platonic. Definitely girlfriend.
Lexa irradiates the level five attraction she has for this girl and swallows down any hope of survival within it. She takes a few deep breathes and tells herself it was stupid to think she was single and more stupid to think she would fawn like the others. It is true, Lexa was used to getting what she wanted but she rarely ever got what she needed. Being gay growing up wasn't hard for her but it wasn't easy either. It was difficult for her to keep friendships because eventually they would fall for her, even the straight ones. At first it was exactly what she wanted, to feel a girl, to kiss her and to be inside her. It was flattering and fulfilling to have that power. Even though it was fun and satisfying, she felt pressured in to giving what they wanted from her. Eventually she got used to it; she got used to giving them what they all wanted. Everyone told her how lucky she was to get any girl she desired, they would tell her how beautiful she is, how perfect and blessed she is. But Lexa didn't want to be blessed like this if it meant being treated like a trophy to be won. It made her feel empty inside, she gave into it after awhile. Finding solace in her actions, taking home a new girl practically every night just so she might discover something interesting, something new. They were all the same—
Except this one.