As always, let me know what you think :)
You are twelve years old when you meet your best friend. It's the second day of middle school, and she's seated next to you for your first science class of sixth grade. She taps her black converse against the table leg, and picks at the skin around her nails.
"I'm Lexa," you introduce, holding out your hand. She shakes it firmly, grateful for your kindness.
"Costia," she replies, and her name sounds sweet and calm and you desperately want to feel it resting on your lips. "I just moved here from Colorado."
"That's cool. I've never been to Colorado before."
"There's not much there," she laughs, "I like it here a lot more." You like the way she laughs- her eyes crinkle and there's a small dimple on her right cheek, and it sounds so pretty and soft and great.
"Do you wanna hang out some time, Costia?" you ask, and you're right; the name sounds perfect on your lips. She nods eagerly.
"I don't have many friends here, yet."
"Don't worry," you assure her, "I'll be your friend, promise."
/
You are thirteen when you kiss your best friend for the first time. You sit in Costia's room, the door pulled to, and My Chemical Romance plays from the new iPod speakers she had gotten for her birthday. You're lying on her bed, and she's beside you reading a book, and all of a sudden you don't know what comes over you.
The light shines through the window and hits her just perfectly, so for a second it's as though she's glowing or shining starlight or something. She catches you staring, and gives you a weird look.
"What? What are you looking at?" she asks, wiping at her face.
You can't contain yourself any longer. You sit up, and hover over her, your face right above hers.
"Lexa?"
"Costia," you breathe, "I really, really want to kiss you right now." Your heart hammers in your chest, and you feel as though time stands still as she stares up at you, her deep brown eyes searching your green ones as though her life depends on it.
Finally, she pulls your shirt towards her, and you lower your head slowly, slowly, until your lips brush against hers and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in celebration. She puts her hands around your neck, and you revel in the fact that holy shit your best friend is kissing you back.
You don't know how to explain it to anyone else, so for a long time the kissing stays between the two of you. You're thirteen and you've only known her for a year, but it's as though Costia has been by your side for eternity, her hand safely in yours, her touch yours and yours only. It feels normal and right and safe, and you love her as much as your thirteen year old love will allow.
/
You're sixteen when you notice that something's wrong. Costia has been your girlfriend for almost three years, and the girl that sits before you is not the same girl. She's lethargic and irritable and you don't know how to ask her if she's okay. But you're scared and so you go to her parents.
"Mrs Jones?" you say timidly, walking into the kitchen.
"I've told you a hundred times, dear, call me Indra," the older woman smiles.
"Indra," you say, "I think there's something wrong with Costia."
"What do you mean? Where is she?"
"She's asleep, like she always seems to be."
"Oh, honey, she's probably just run down from all her after school activities."
"That's the thing, Indra. She stopped going to her extracurriculars because she was too exhausted, and now she's even more tired. I'm just, I'm scared that something's wrong with her." Indra stands and hugs you tightly; the woman has been like a second mother to you for the past four years, and you feel comfort in her embrace.
"Lexa, I love that you care about my daughter so much."
"I love her."
"I know. And I know you wouldn't come to me if you weren't genuinely concerned." She rubs soothing circles on your back. "I'll speak to her and we'll figure all this out."
/
You're sixteen years old when your girlfriend is diagnosed with cancer. It's in her blood and her brain and they pump her full of drugs to kill it but the only thing they seem to do is destroy her even more. She's cold and thin and you fear that if you hug her too hard you'll kill her.
And still, you're by her side whenever you physically can be. Before school, after, on weekends, vacations. You stay by Costia's side because you've loved her forever and she's the best thing about your life.
On the days when she's too sick to talk to you, you lie beside her, holding her small body in your own, and you tell her about the future you see for yourselves. You tell her how you'll go to college in New York City and drink expensive coffee and fall even more in love with the city lights as the backdrop to your lives. You tell her how you'll go travelling when you've both graduated, all over Europe: drinking wine in Italy and navigating cobblestone streets in Prague and making love under a Parisian moon. You tell her how you'll both return all the more worldly, and how you'll surprise her with a proposal on the hardwood floors of the first apartment you buy together. You tell her how you'll marry in Autumn, so your white dresses stand out against the golden and orange leaves. You tell her how you'll have three kids, each one cuter and smarter than the next, all of them with her deep brown eyes and dimpled smile. You tell her how you'll grow old in the country, holding her close kind of like you are right now. You talk and you talk and you talk, of a future you would die to obtain, of a life you would kill to live. And all the while, she breathes unsteadily in your arms.
/
You're a day shy of your eighteenth birthday when they tell you she won't see nineteen. But instead of crying, you put her in your car, and you drive to Las Vegas and by the time you get there you're old enough to marry her, all eighteen-years-and-one-week of her. You put your grandmother's ring on her thin, bony finger, and you promise to love her more than you've loved her before, to care for her when she cannot care for herself, and to remember her when she is no longer by your side.
Your parents aren't even mad when you get home and move into the Jones' basement. They understand that if you can't go to college with her, if you can't see the world or have kids with her, at least you could call her your wife, even if it were only for a year or so. You love her and love her and then love her some more, even when she's asleep more than she's awake, or when all she wants is to lie alone and die. You tell her you love her every chance you get, and even then, you know it will never be enough. Nothing less than the rest of your life will ever be enough.
/
You're nineteen years old when the love of your life finally slips away, peacefully in her sleep, one year and three days after she agreed to be your wife. Your insides turn to nothing and your bones turn to dust and you wish with all your soul that you could simply stop being because what was the point of it all if she was not there with you?
But somehow you pick yourself up and you go to college in New York because you know that's where she'd want you to be and you're in freshman year with everyone a year younger than you and you don't really make friends because how do you tell them 'I took a gap year to spend with my late wife'?
And then after two years you transfer back to be closer to home because New York City doesn't feel right without her with you and why hang the backdrop to a life you never had the chance to live.
/
And so, you're unpacking your things and making your bed when you meet your new roommate. She's blonde and beautiful and her blue eyes hold a universe that you yearn to explore. But then she opens her mouth and you feel your heart stop beating and your blood stop pumping and you don't know how to think or act or move because holy shit, Costia's voice is coming out of that girl's mouth. Costia's voice which you've missed every day for two years and hearing it makes you want to stop existing and live in eternity with your wife once more.
So you run. You run to Lincoln, the boy who's known you your entire life, and you cry onto his shoulder without telling him what's wrong. And the next morning, you hear her again when you try to change rooms, and it physically hurts you to be forced to listen to the voice that belongs to two girls.
You pretty much live in Lincoln's room and the library for the few days before school start, the only thing you tell him is that you don't like your new roommate. But then at his party he realizes why you don't like her, why you need to stay away, because if you listen to her for a moment longer, you swear to a god you're not sure exists that you'll fall to pieces and never be put back together again. And he tells you to just stay in the library away from her, because he knows Clarke and she hates the library more than anything else.
But then, there she is, and you're screaming at her like a madwoman, and being kicked out of your refuge away from Clarke, and you're forced to listen to the running commentary on her life that she starts to provide. And somewhere along the way, you find yourself not only falling back in love with your wife's voice, but also becoming enamoured with the words of the stranger that carry the sweet tune of Costia.
/
"And so now I'm stuck," Lexa said, her voice hoarse from telling Clarke the story of her lost love, "I'm stuck being almost twenty two, and a widow, and praying that a person can have more than one soulmate."
"Why do you pray for that?"
"Because if a person only has one soulmate in their lifetime, then I've got to face the fact that I'll never love the person I end up with as much as I loved the girl I met when I was twelve."
Lexa rested her head in her hands, silent tears tracing wet paths down her thin cheeks. Clarke placed a soothing hand on her roommate's back, trying to comfort the unyielding pain that coursed through her body.
"For what it's worth, I think you can have more than one soulmate," Clarke whispered as Lexa's began to calm down a bit. She couldn't speak above a whisper knowing what the sound of her voice did to Lexa. "I think that a soulmate is someone to whom we entrust our entire beings, our mind, body and soul. And in return, they give us theirs and we care for it as best we can.
"There's no limit on how many people we can give ourselves over to, but we just make sure that we choose people worthy of our love, who'll hold our hearts like they'd hold their own."
"I just… I want it to get easier," Lexa whined. "I want to ease the pain and not feel so guilty when I feel connected to someone else."
"You don't ease pain," Clarke replied, "you overcome it."
And out of nowhere, Lexa's lips found Clarke's, and the hairs on the back of their necks rose in excitement before Lexa pulled away too soon.
"I'm sorry, Clarke, that was inappropriate."
"Yeah, you do have crappy timing."
"Maybe… maybe we can just be friends for a bit, and navigate those waters first." Clarke smiled and rested her head against Lexa's shoulder.
"As my friend, you should know that I'm affectionate as hell, and right now I need a hug." Lexa laughed softly, before putting her arm around Clarke's shoulder. It felt more natural than either of them thought it should, but neither of them inched away from it, instead choosing to embrace the comfort that the other had to offer.
/
The party was in full swing by the time Lexa showed up. Octavia and Clarke had decided that Raven needed a welcome back to school party. The girl had spent two weeks in the hospital, and was adamant to return straight to school when she was released. Lexa wove through the crowds, trying to find any familiar faces. She breathed a small sigh of relief as she saw Lincoln standing next to the drinks table, his arm around Octavia.
"Hey, guys," she said as she approached them. In return, they give her a drink, which the brunette accepts readily.
"How're you going, Lex?" Lincoln asked with pity-filled eyes.
"I'm fine, Lincoln." Lexa knew that he didn't believe a word she had said, but she really didn't want to be reminded of anything that night.
"Just.. just stay safe," he told her solemnly. She rolled her eyes. He didn't need to baby her; he needed to leave her alone.
It was unfortunate timing on Clarke's part.
"Lexa, you made it!" she greeted, and Lincoln watched warily as Lexa greeted Clarke back.
"Maybe it's not a good time, Clarke," he said to the blonde girl.
"What're you talking about, Linc?"
"Maybe you should leave Lexa alone." Octavia nudged him in the ribs.
"Mind your business, babe."
"Yeah, Lincoln, mind your damn business," Lexa said loudly, her anger growing. "I don't need you monitoring all of my interactions and waiting for me to fall apart."
"I didn't-"
But Lexa was already stalking away, leaving the party as soon as she had gotten there.
"I thought everything was cool now," Octavia said.
"It is," Clarke replied, before turning to Lincoln. "She told me everything, about Costia."
"She did?"
"Yeah, the night of the accident, while we were waiting for Raven's mom."
"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, Clarke, but it-"
"It wasn't your story to tell, and I understand that. Hell, I reckon I would've been more pissed if you had told me."
The party began winding down close to midnight, and Clarke bid her friends goodnight as they finished cleaning up. Lexa was awake as the blonde entered the room, reading a book on her bed. She kicked off her boots and fell into bed.
"What're you reading?" she asked the brunette.
"The Faraway Tree," Lexa replied softly. Clarke laughed.
"Isn't that a bit below the reading level of an English Lit major?"
"It was her favourite." Clarke sobered immediately; there was no need to ask who 'she' was.
"I'm sorry for getting worked up earlier and leaving the party. I'll find Lincoln and apologize in the morning." Clarke hesitated before responding.
"Is everything alright?"
"It's her birthday today."
"Shit, Lexa."
"Next week's our wedding anniversary, and then a few days later, it'll be three years since I lost her." Clarke was pinned to her bed, torn between comforting the girl on the other side of the room and giving her the space she needed.
"It scares me how… it doesn't hurt as much as it used to. I feel like I'm moving on too quickly, that it should hurt more, and I should be sadder, and-"
Lexa threw her book across the room, hitting the door with a thud. Angry tears fell from her eyes as she stood and tore her chair away from the desk, throwing it, too, across the room. She swiped the papers from the desk to the floor, and then turned onto her bookshelf, ripping it apart in frustration.
"Lexa!" Clarke leapt from her bed, throwing her arms around her roommate's abdomen, pinning her arms to her sides.
"Let me go!" the brunette screamed, "let me go!" But Clarke held on even stronger, letting Lexa get the fight out of her system, patiently waiting as the struggle stopped and Lexa went limp in her arms. The two girls dropped to the floor, a sob escaping from Lexa, her face wet with tears.
They sat amongst the mess like that for what felt like hours, Lexa's breathing eventually returning to normal, Clarke's soothing voice whispering into her ear.
You're okay.
You're okay.
You're okay.
"She'll always be a part of you, as long as you let her be," Clarke said when she felt it was safe. "Even when you think you don't miss her anymore, even when it doesn't hurt for every single moment of every single day. She's always there. And for every moment you're okay, there'll be one where you think you can't breathe properly."
"And what does it mean if on her birthday I can only think about kissing another girl?" Lexa whispered, looking up at Clarke.
"It means… It means you're alive, Lex. You have a beating heart and a pulse, and you can't let yourself die just because she did."
Clarke disentangled herself from Lexa, standing and going to their fridge. She pulled out two beers, and handed one to her friend. Next, she pulled out something else, though Lexa couldn't see what it was. When Clarke stopped fiddling around, Lexa's breath caught in her throat.
Sitting on her desk was a cupcake, a single lit candle sitting in its icing.
"I stole it from Raven's party," Clarke murmured. "Now it seems like-"
"Like it was meant to be," Lexa finished, her green eyes boring into Clarke's blue ones.
Clarke went to sleep that night with her mind drowning in images of Lexa's tear-filled eyes, and the way she felt held up against Clarke's body. Her dreams were saturated with green forests warriors on horseback.
And Lexa slept with dreams of bright blue skies and blonde girls falling from heaven.