September 29th, 2013
Clarke sees Lexa next day; she visits the club again.
It is Raven whom serves her this time, Lexa asks for wine instead of Margarita. Clarke notes how they talk to each other for a while, but then she completely disregards them because she's too busy serving other clients.
Lexa sits on the same table to look at the band play tonight; once in a while she checks her phone, smiles and then replies the text that has amused her. Thursdays are a little busier than Wednesdays, so Clarke doesn't even have the opportunity to realize that Lexa stares at her today too, long and hard she scrutinizes her like a painting in an art exposition. But no, Clarke can't know that Lexa watches her, she can't know that the brunette came to the club again not just because the band plays good music.
Clarke is so busy that the hours seem to fly and she isn't conscious of when Lexa leaves the place.
Raven and Clarke stay until everyone leaves the place, they both help to put the chairs over the tables; strangely, Raven is quiet tonight, different from Clarke, she is always the one talking.
Clarke puts on the coat as they go outside together to walk to their respective vehicles.
"I'll see you tomorrow" says Clarke at the same time she gets on her bike.
"Hey, Clarke?" Raven calls out.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing this Sunday?"
"Paint until my fingers bleed, most likely" she answers.
Raven smiles "You always talk about painting but I've never seen your art"
The corners of Clarke's lips go up vaguely, then, before she puts the helmet on, she says:
"Perhaps you will someday"
Clarke did not hear one single thing of Lexa the following Friday or Saturday or Sunday.
Though, on Sunday Clarke took the fortune of grabbing her brushes, her colors and her canvas. Painting in the living room—just in front of one of the windows that faces the city—has always calmed her somehow. The distant sound of the cars altogether with people's voices and the whistle of the wind when it caresses the trees creates an atmosphere that is unique to her.
Painting makes Clarke feel good, she feels at loose, she doesn't think, there is no weakness, there is no sadness, it is like her own paradise, a paradise where she can capture with colors all of her emotions, and when she does, those emotions that become colors… change. The colors she paints to show sadness turn out to be happy and that also makes her feel great. She likes to feel the texture of the paint when it dries up on her fingers and she also enjoys the smell of it. She likes how she can paint any fictional thing on a canvas; she likes how she can paint a memory or a person.
She shares her art anonymously in her personal internet blog. Several people admire her work and she appreciates them very much, but yet, it is not enough for someone important to notice her. The artistic world has never been easy and she knows that, that's why Clarke practices constantly, so she can be one of the bests.
October 3st, 2013
Monday afternoon Clarke runs out of tea and she truly needs it, because she's been painting since morning and her body simply craves some tea. So she goes on her bike to one of the closest stores, with her hair up in a messy bun and some locks of golden hair falling at the sides of her face, an old t-shirt of The Strokes and a pair of jeans that are slightly spotted with paint. This should be quick anyway.
She enters the store, walking straight to the tea section; she grabs two little boxes of tea with lemon and honey. She thinks that's all but she can't help herself and takes as well some Pringles.
When Clarke turns around to walk down the short hallway to the cash register she sees her and suddenly forgets how to walk. Unconsciously, she squeezes the container of the Pringles so hard her knuckles turn white. She considers for a moment to leave the things back in their place and get the hell away from there but she quickly realizes that that would be a complete childish action, so she starts walking again, thinking that maybe, just maybe she will have the chance to not be seeing when she passes by Lexa, but no, it is not like that.
"Clarke?" she articulates when Clarke is already two meters away from her. Clarke stops and after taking a small breath she turns around to face Lexa, who smiles preciously at her.
"Lexa" Clarke keeps her elegant and stable posture, her features serious and her blue eyes undecipherable.
"How are you?" Lexa takes a few steps closer to Clarke, keeping that little smile on her lips.
"Good, thank you" Clarke tries to make the conversation as short as possible. The blond can't help but feel the tension that arises between them and she knows it is not a common kind of tension, that's what she doesn't like.
Lexa's olive eyes wander down slowly until they stop their track on Clarke's hands, she smiles a little wider when she sees the little spots of painting and her eyes rapidly fly back to Clarke's.
"Are you painting your apartment?" Clarke feels confused by the question at the beginning until she looks down at her hands and realizes they are splashed with different colors.
"Oh… uh…" she shakes her head subtly "Not really"
Lexa seems to understand almost immediately and her eyes grow with curiosity "You're a painter" she trails lowly and Clarke wonders how in the world a pair of eyes could be so expressive.
"I try to be" a trail of a smile touches her lips and even if it doesn't last long Lexa finds it completely fascinating; that's why she smiles as well, her lips curling up to the point of only showing a bit part of her teeth, but it is still a beautiful, honest smile.
"Maybe you could show me sometime…" before the comment Clarke shifts uncomfortably. Lexa notices it and instantly retracts "… Or not"
Three seconds of silence pass.
"I must go now" Clarke says. Lexa nods softly.
"Of course. I'm sorry if I retained you"
"You didn't"
The look at each other for about five seconds before Clarke clears her throat, half turning around.
"Goodbye" she says and turns the other half around but just when she takes the first step away she hears Lexa tenderly say:
"It was nice seeing you, Clarke"
She inevitably feels how her heart skips a beat and from that moment on she knows this girl is something else and that she might have to stay away from that.