"No."

"But, Lexa, come on."

"I said no."

"Lex, babe- Lexa, look at her! Just look at her, Lex. Please?"

"Clarke. No." Lexa crossed her arms over her chest. She refused to back down.

Clarke pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "Lexa, please, please, please-"

"Clarke," Lexa was tired. She was exhausted. She was drained. Work had been awful, long and exasperating and Lexa desperately wanted to take a shower, eat dinner, and then collapse in her bed. Maybe even ask her girlfriend to run her hands through her brown hair because her head hurt and her back ached and Lexa was tired. She did not expect to come to her apartment, to her home, and see and abominable little ball of fluff in hersofa, cuddling with her girlfriend, and eating her leftovers. No, Lexa wasn't going to stand for any of it. "I said no."

Clarke puffed, golden locks falling across her face, "Lexa, she's a kitten. A kitten, Lex, you can't seriously be asking me to dump her back in the dumpster I found her at." The blonde lazily petted the tiny cat in her lap. The minuscule ball of white fur and crystal blue eyes laid perfectly still, as if awaiting the final verdict.

The brunette thought about it for a second. She wasn't cruel, no, but she certainly didn't want that-that thing with her… "We'll take her to the pound tomorrow morning," she decided.

"But Lexa…"

"Clarke."

"She's so tiny! Lexa, come over here and pick her up. Come on, please. Let's think about this for more than five seconds."

"I do not want a cat."

"But the pound? I don't want to just leave her there."

"She is just a kitten; she will get adopted soon."

"Lexa," Clarke whined and hugged the cat closer to her body.

Lexa was tired. She was exhausted. She was drained. So she just sighed, sloppily kissed her girlfriend, murmuring a low 'please come to bed soon', and went to take a shower.

The brunette graciously welcomed the hot water as it enveloped her body in a cloud of steam and eased her stiff muscles. Work had been hard.Really hard. She was the only girl there, completely stranded in a sea of testosterone, and, on top of that, she was also the youngest one. Her older male coworkers looked down at her with a sense of superiority and disbelief.

"What is she doing here?" She overheard one of the Chiefs of Finance ask a group of other really important people and Lexa nearly broke her coffee cup because of how tight she was holding it.

Lexa hated Credit Committees.

Lexa was there because she had studied her ass off in college.

Lexa was there because she had toiled her ass off as an intern.

Lexa was there because she worked her ass off each and every day.

Taking a deep breath, she sweetly gave the group of incompetent men a minuscule smile and made her way over to an empty table.

"Ignore them," Lincoln had told her as he slipped into the chair next to hers. "They're just a bunch of idiots. We all know you deserve to be here more than any of them."

Lexa gave him a genuine smile, which was rare coming from her (only if the receiver wasn't Clarke), "Thank you, Lincoln," she muttered before bombarding him with questions about their presentation.

Lexa hated Credit Committees, but after she and Lincoln nailed their presentation and she walked past the table filled with those sorry excuses for chiefs of Finance and Marketing and Advertising -all smug and mighty and powerful because yes she was a woman and yes she was young butdamn she was amazing at her job- she thought that they weren't so bad.

Just extremely stressful and tiring and Lexa slipped from her daydream and finished showering because whoa sleep sounded amazing. The brunette turned the tap off and threw on her favorite pajamas: one of Clarke's old grey Ark University shirts, some short shorts with cartoony raccoon designs (Clarke had seen them a few years ago and thought they were perfect for her. When Lexa had asked her why, the blonde chuckled and said she sometimes looked like a raccoon when she wore too much eyeliner.) and a pair of really long and comfy black socks. Lexa hated sleeping without socks.

After drying her hair (or drying her hair as much as she could) with a towel, the brunette collapsed in her bed and snuggled under the covers.

Ten minutes of trying to fall asleep and Lexa realized that something was wrong. She quickly patted the space to her right and groaned.

"Clarke!" She yelled and almost cursed the day that she lost the ability to sleep by herself.

After ten more minutes, Lexa was in the brink of tears. And that was so unlike her and what the hell is wrong with you Lexa, get it together, but she was tired and she was exhausted and she was drained and she just wanted to cuddle with Clarke and where the fuck is that woman, damn it.

Fighting the fatigue, Lexa ripped the blanket off her body and slowly walked towards the living room, where Clarke was calmly watching Netflix and playing with that stupid cat as if nothing was wrong. As if Lexa hadn't called her from the other room. "Hey, did you know Love Actually is on Netflix now?"

"Clarke," Lexa was on the verge of begging. She was about to drop to her knees and just beg. "Please," she sucked in a deep breath and motioned with her arms to their bedroom, "come to bed."

"Not until we discus her." She pointed at the ball of fluff that was toying with Clarke's hand, clawing and biting and scratching and damn it.

"Fine," Lexa collapsed on the floor, staring intently at the ceiling because Clarke was definitely going to have to pay for doing this to her. "I do not want a cat."

"I want a cat," Clarke challenged, "and how can you not want a cat? You kind of act like one."

"No, I do not." Lexa stretched her back, yawned and glanced at a smirking Clarke.

"You totally just stretched like a cat."

"Shut up."

"Nice panties by the way, I love the bright pink. They really complement your skin."

Lexa couldn't help it. She quickly scampered her hand over her mouth, but she couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped her lips. Damn you, Clarke.

"Holy shit," Clarke picked up the kitty and held it close to her face, nuzzling it with her nose, "did you hear that, little fella? Lexa is capable of laughing, who would've thought?" The blonde barely had time to evade the pillow that was thrown her way. "Jesus, so aggressive. Sweetheart, violence is not always the answer."

"Clarke, the cat, we were talking about that cat."

"Right, right, sorry, it's just damn. Lex, have I told you that you have a fantastic dernier?"

"Derrière, Clarke, it's derrière." Lexa couldn't hide this smirk either.

"Are you sure? Whatever, the point is that you have a fantastic ass, and this sweet little kitty thinks so too."

"Clarke, I am tired."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. Let's keep the cat for two weeks, just two weeks, and, if by the end of those fourteen days you still don't want her, then we'll take her to the pound, deal?"

Lexa was tired. She was exhausted. She was drained. She couldn't recall exactly why she had agreed, but Clarke had dragged her to bed, humming some song that she had stuck in her head and caressing her scalp, untangling and braiding her hair, and Lexa was satisfied and content and happy.

Lexa woke up to – what was that? Meowing? – at six in the morning. The brunette was all for early mornings, but six? She untangled herself from Clarke's embrace and made her way to the living room.

A ball of snow white fur and sky blue eyes met her cold and unchallengeable stare.

Fuck.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?