"You don't need to follow me everywhere, Octavia." Clarke yelled over the music. The two of them were making their way to the sanctuary of the bar, where the loud techno music would be less loud and they could actually talk to each other without losing their voices in the process.
"On the contrary, Princess," Octavia said back, adopting her brothers nickname for her in an attempt to frustrate as she sticks close to Clarke, maneuvering through the large packs of humans on the dancefloor. "Somebody's gotta keep you from overdosing on whatever drugs these humans are on."
Clarke scoffed. "And here I thought you came because you cared."
"I don't even know why you thought it was a good idea to go out tonight." She paused, attempting to call over the bartender. "This place reeks of Hellspawn and bad booze."
"Yeah, well, down here there aren't many places that aren't tainted." Clarke raised an eyebrow at the drink in Octavia's hand, leaning her elbows back on the counter. "Drinking on the job now, are we?"
Octavia placed the glass next to Clarke's elbow, "Not a chance, that's yours. Maybe it'll loosen you up a bit, your stiff as a board."
Clarke pursed her lips for a second, looked down at the glass, then picked it up and held the rim to her lips. She sniffed it first, then took a large sip. She groans before putting the glass back down. "Geez, what is that?" she coughed, hiding it in the back of her hand. "That's strong."
Octavia just laughed at her. "Sorry, forgot you're a lightweight. I'll get you something tame next time."
"No, no, strong is good." Clarke looked down at her hands, picking at her fingernails and biting her lip. "I'm nervous."
Her friend bent down to look at her, "About what? Tomorrow? You'll do fine. Not like the demons have any chance though, we vastly outnumber them."
"Yeah, I get that in theory. But there's always that little voice in my head that just doesn't stop worrying, you know?"
Clarke's voice was quiet, and had Octavia actually been listening, she would have heard the vulnerability in her words and come up with something to say that would calm her nerves. But Octavia hadn't been listening; in fact she was busy looking at two people that had just walked into the club. They looked completely normal, but there was something about them that she couldn't place.
The man was dark, wearing a grey button up shirt with the top two undone, a baseball cap, and dark shorts. The woman beside him was lighter, perhaps Italian, with intricately braided hair and loads of dark eyeliner. Her shirt lacked sleeves and was cut down the sides, legs covered by black leggings and topped with sneakers. Both had eyes that were constantly surveying the room, both had intimidating stature, both were somehow off.
But Octavia forgot all about that the moment that the man's eyes met hers, and for a moment she for forgot how to breathe, forgot how to make her lungs work, forgot how to make her heart beat.
Clarke, who had been talking until she realized that Octavia wasn't actually listening, watched her friend amusedly. She watched her ogling a perfect stranger from across the room, and when she followed her eyes, she began to gawk at a stranger of her own.
Now, Clarke had never really been attracted to a girl at this level. She knew that she was sexually attracted to woman as well as men, but she had never seen a real woman who made her jaw physically drop and kept her eyes for longer than thirty seconds. But this girl, this perfect stranger standing fifty yards away, with her horrifyingly beautiful features and regal physique, had caught, kept, and downright stolen her attention. And, if Clarke told the truth, she wasn't exactly interested in getting it back. She was perfectly fine with keeping it right where it was.
That is, until the girl felt Clarke's eyes intruding, and looked directly at her, staring into her eyes and sending a shiver up Clarke's spine. As much as Clarke wanted to look away in embarrassment, as long as their gaze was locked she found that she couldn't. She couldn't pull away, and it scared her.
Thankfully, a few moments later – which felt more like hours later – the girls eyes abandoned hers in order to flit down Clarke's body. Clarke suddenly felt raw, exposed, and utterly destroyed under her stare. She looked away, over to her unfinished drink and to Octavia – who was still busy having what was basically eye sex with whomever she was looking at – and turned around to attempt to make herself comfortable again. She picked up her drink and downed it, wincing at the burn and scorch as the alcohol went down her throat. She felt a bit woozy and lightheaded from drinking too quickly, but she welcomed it.
"I, um…" Octavia began, stopping when she heard the rasp in her voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm going to go to the bathroom."
"Sure you are." Clarke muttered. "Oh, don't worry about me, this place is only full of bad booze and Hellspawn."
Octavia ignored her, walking away and leaving Clarke alone at the bar. Clarke sighed, resigning as she called the bartender over to refill her drink.
When the bill was slid to her along with her drink, a hand covered it before she could reach for it. Clarke furrowed her eyebrows as she followed the arm to a pair of strong shoulders and finally to the face of her mysterious stranger. She couldn't figure out how to make her voice work, and she was left gasping like a fish as she licked her lips.
"Let me cover it." The girl said, and oh God did Clarke like the sound of her voice.
She was finally able to pull her mind from the gutter, and she quickly looked down at the floor then back up to murmur a very quiet, "Thank you, that is very kind of you."
"I will pay on one condition; you keep me company since our friends have decided to ditch us."
Clarke felt her ears redden. "I'm sorry about that, Octavia can be a bit… wild."
"It is fine." she said, leaning her side against the bar and crossing her arms. "Truth be told it has been a long time since Lincoln has had anybody as more than a friend in his life, so tonight will most likely be good for him."
"Yeah, Octavia hasn't exactly been given the opportunity for much socializing so it may be a mutually benefiting relationship." Clarke turned back to her drink in order to try and avoid looking at this strangers eyes. She had a feeling that if she looked at them up close, she would get lost in them, and could potentially end up doing something she regretted. So instead, she picked up the bill and whistled when she saw her tab. Octavia hadn't only ordered something extremely stiff and strong, but something expensive. "You sure you wanna pay for this…?" she asked, fishing for a name.
"Lexa." She offered, placing her hand on Clarke's and pushing it down to the bar. "And yes, I am sure."
"Clarke." Clarke said breathlessly, working up the nerve to look up at Lexa's eyes. What she found was exactly what she expected. Lexa's eyes were deep and enrapturing, dark green – but Clarke could imagine them being much lighter in a time less… tense. She could see the arrogance and ego and pride and smugness in her eyes, but she could also see softness and tenderness and they were strangely gentle, which confused her greatly.
Lexa's hand was still on Clarke's, and the heat of it made Clarke feel like her blood was boiling. Lexa's head leaned down until her mouth was next to Clarke's ear, and she whispered, "Dance with me?"
She was helpless to do anything except nod, reveling in the width of Lexa's grin as she pulled out her wallet from her back pocket and paid for Clarke's two drinks. Her mouth was suddenly too dry to function and she found herself licking her lips as she watched Lexa pick up her drink and take a small sip, lowering her head and looking at Clarke through her lashes. Lexa had finished half of her drink, before she took the rim away from her lips and offered it back to Clarke.
"Want the rest?" Lexa asked innocently, pretending not to notice the effect she was having on Clarke, which was easy to see by the darkening of her sky blue eyes and the reddening of her pale cheeks.
Clarke's hands were shaky as she nodded. When her hand brushed Lexa's again, she felt as though her body might combust and her brain might overload. She felt the scrutiny of her eyes as she finished the drink off, felt their blazing heat and molten desire. Clarke was beginning to feel as though it should be illegal to use those eyes – or her very mannerism for that matter – on anyone. Clarke had never been so compliant in her entire life, not with anyone. Yet here she was, seconds away from being completely sequestered and possessed by this seductress at a human bar.
Lost in her thoughts, Clarke hadn't noticed being pulled away from the bar and into the dancefloor, but there she was. Somehow she had been lured into the middle of a large group of dancing people, Lexa's hands on her hips, Clarkes hands on her arms. During the night, the music had changed from loud techno, to an underlying mix of drum and basslines, which was the perfect background noise to distract her from all the voices in her head that tried to tell Clarke that this was a bad idea.
She couldn't explain it.
It all felt so right.
And then Lexa's head was beside of hers, and her teeth nipped at her earlobe and her hands gripped Clarkes hips tighter, pulling her closer. Clarke found her hands tangling in Lexa's hair, unsure of whether it was to keep her where she was or pull her back. At this point though, it may have been impossible for Clarke to pull her back, just as much as it was impossible for Lexa to stop herself.
But suddenly, Lexa's head was no longer at her ear, instead her forehead was pressed into Clarke's, eyes boring a hole straight through to Clarke's damned soul. Clarke's lips began to drift apart, her eyes drooping slightly as she felt herself being ripped apart in Lexa's arms; savagely, gently, brutally, gradually. She could feel Lexa's breath on her mouth as one of Lexa's hands cradled her face, the other still holding tight to her hips. She could sense Lexa holding back, as if she was afraid, and Clarke thought that this was the first time she had ever glanced weakness from her.
Clarke's hand tightened in Lexa's hair and she pushed up, joining their mouths passionately. Clarke felt something exploding inside of her, and her brain, for the first time in her life, shut down and was content to just feel. Feel the way Lexa's lips moved under hers, the way her thumb gently rubbed her cheek, the way that her grip on Clarke's hip lessened until it migrated to the small of her back and simply held her there.
Then she was being yanked away from the very object of her desire, and she couldn't help but cry out as she was forced to leave Lexa. She turned quickly to see Octavia glaring at her, furious.
"We need to leave." Octavia growled, shooting spears, daggers, and swords at Lexa as she tugged on Clarke's arm.
Clarke was about to protest, almost ready to yell at her for interrupting her when she and Lincoln had obviously just had some time to connect themselves. But instead, she remained quiet and looked at Lexa, who just smirked at her and wiped off the remains of Clarke's lipstick from her mouth. "It is fine, Clarke Griffin. I will see you tomorrow." she said before backing away into the crowd and disappearing.
Clarke said nothing until Octavia had dragged her out of the club, and onto the streets. "Do you know who you were just making out with?!"
"Well, I know her name if that's what you're asking for."
Octavia's lips upturned in a snarl. "We definitely should not have gone out tonight. How much liquid courage did it take for you to get in a full on kiss-and-grope session with the Demon Commander Alexandra?"