Ch. 2 Blue Eyed Spy
Clarke jumps into the front seat of her truck while Raven hops into the back standing up with her legs spread leaning against the cab. She bangs the top of the car in excitement.
"Yowwww!" she howls to the moon as Clarke finds the song on her phone. She plugs in her aux and blasts that song as loud as her stereo will go.
Matt Simons- Catch & Release ( Deepend Remix )
She rolls the windows down, pulling out of the parking lot and heads to their favorite Hollywood hill. Raven stretches her arms out to catch the wind under her arms like the wings of a bird on it's way west. The feeling is so freeing that it allows all her fears and doubts to be left behind where you lose all sense of time. Clarke sticks her arm out the window as she increases speed, letting her hand find waves in the wind. She knows how dangerous it is to drive this fast with Raven standing in the back but it is needed now. This is the only thing that will press that restart button they both seek. It's been a hard year and they catch each other when the other one falls. Clarke leans back in her seat, barely anyone is on this back road and she revels in the sounds. The rev of her engine against her foot, the low verb of the wind rubbing passed steel, the light laughter that escapes her best friend, and the melody that always calms her.
"Hold on Ray!" they approach the incline to the hill and Raven bends to hug the top of the car, holding on the edges under the open windows. Clarke reaches up, grasping her hand as they ascend. She laughs at Raven's excited yelp. They get to the top in no time and Clarke slows to a stop.
"Ready?!" She sticks her head out of the window, watching Raven stand up and bend her legs. Her mouth is open stretched into a contagious smile.
"Here we go!" Clarke puts the car in neutral, lifting her foot off the break and climbs to sit on the window's edge with one hand stretched to grasp the wheel as the other is above her head reaching to the sky claiming the freedom they both desperately need to feel.
The car leans forward picking up speed as it falls into the pull of gravity. The weight of the engine lurches them forward, somewhat in a controlled-abandon. Raven closes her eyes hugging the sky. The adrenaline pumps through her like a river in spring, catching patches of frozen earth bringing it under.
Clarke lifts one leg out the window straddling the edge and dismisses the fear of danger, feeling the thrill of it. The hill is tall and long with no cars in sight; her headlights find the dust and dirt in the air—they illuminate like fireflies. Clarke's mind flashes through her favorite memories: the tire swing on her favorite tree just outside the forest line, her mom staying home from work just to watch dad and her take the kite they all built out (It wasn't a great success), her dad's laugh, the first butterfly in her stomach, green-eyes— crap…
She closes her eyes for a brief moment to center herself before sinking back into the drivers seat and eases her foot onto the brake, slowing them into a stop.
Raven drums on top of the car, "That was fucking incredible Clarke!" She jumps out of the back and climbs into the passenger side window.
Ignoring the new addition to her subconscious' favorite memory, she laughs.
"Ray! You know the door works perfectly fine!" she says amusingly to her friend.
Raven squirms and finally gets situated in the seat, "It was more fun this way."
They sit there smiling at each other for a beat Raven leans over the middle grabbing Clarke into a hug. "I love you, it'll be okay. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Christ almighty Raven, you did not just say that…"
She reaches into her glove compartment, searching for something.
"Ay cholita, you and your weird superstitions…" She sighs, watching her find the painted block of wood she made when Raven and her first became friends.
It was a chunk of cedar Clarke picked up after they ran out of gas in the middle of no where, Raven was driving and kept reassuring her that nothing bad was going to happen. Sure enough, it started to rain. When she said it was fine, at least it wasn't worse. The earth started to shake, like literally an earthquake! Luckily it was just a tremor—but Clarke was taking no chances, she jumps out of the car away from her bad-joo-joo friend and stumbled upon this random chunk of wood, telling her to knock on it so the next thing that happens wouldn't be their 'bloody fucking murder.'
"Knock on it Raven!" Clarke is wide-eyed waiting for her friend to comply.
Raven idles just to tease her a bit longer, "You know this is all hobble-dee gook right?"
Clarke furrows her brow and clunks it on Raven's forehead, "Shut your lint licking mouth Raven, you were basically kissing this when some hot chick rescued us from the side of the road and the sun came out simultaneously."
"So kiss it! Before I make you…"
After that day, Clarke cherished it like it was her little jinx-catcher; she painted a scene of rain clouds over an earthquake, with a tree in the distance getting struck by lightening. On one side she painted the word Jinx and the other side Raven had carved their initials.
Clarke shoves the jinx-catcher up to Raven's lips so all she has to do is pucker into it, she pouts to influence her appeaser.
Raven laughs and leans forward to give it a hard kiss, "There, now can we go?!"
The blonde smiles bringing the block to her mouth and kisses it before putting it back into the glove compartment.
"Look, I can't help it if you're a bad luck magnet. I have to do what I can to protect mines." Clarke jested.
Raven sighs, a bit of reality hitting her and rubs her leg, "Yeah… I know."
She pushes against the brake to lift herself into Raven. "It'll be okay, the surgery will help." She rubs her back with her hands to compound her assurances. Clarke pulls away to press a light kiss onto her lips and shifts back into her seat.
"Lets go home."
They are so close that affection comes normally and naturally to them. It's the type of friendship that most people wish they had, but to them it didn't come easily. They broke each other a few times before getting here and they would do it again to end up with each other like this. Knowing someone so well with out love's blindness is like finding true peace. It assuages any discomfort of the tribulations of life, knowing that someone is in it with you without reservation. They caught each other and released each other back into the wild, flying free and back again as they pleased. Love stronger than anything they knew… so far.
Two days later it was time for the second read through and Clarke was running late.
"Fuck! Where the hell is it?!"
She can't find her watercolor set anywhere, she had taken it out to finish up some of her set ideas and lost it somewhere between the joint Monty brought and the noodle war they had in the kitchen after making spaghetti.
"Raven! Wake up you fugly wench! Where is my watercolor set!? I saw you with it last night."
She can hear a groan coming from across the hall where Raven's room is.
"Raven Carmen Reyes!" She yells while throwing cushions across the living room digging in the couch.
Gross… She finds old fruit loops, paperclips, an Allen wrench, floss, and her missing headphones… but no watercolor set.
Clarke is running just a few minutes behind but one of the things she hates the most is being late and Indra's death glare is motivation enough not to screw up. Walking into a room with all eyes on her, thinking of all the reasons why she could be late, watching her as she involuntarily clenches her butt cheeks together in an attempt to walk confidently— yeah, definitely one of her worst nightmares. Not because she cares what they think, but because she is better than what they would think. She is not late often and it upsets her that just that simple act could demote her stature.
"Check in the freezer!" Raven mumbles out remembering that Jasper and her thought it would be heinously hilarious for Clarke to paint 'Elsa Eyes' with frozen watercolors. Haha…Yup still funny.
The artist quickly sprints to the freezer with a grunt and flings the door open. A cloud of smog emits but quickly dissipates as Clarke searches passed the vodka bottle, peas, pizza rolls, the remote (Raven!), and in the door rack she finds her watercolor set!
Gotcha!
She had finished getting ready 45 minutes ago and needed to be there at 9am. It was now 8:52 and it takes her at least 15 minutes to get to the studio. She struts into the entrance of her roommate's room and throws the cold remote at her half naked body, reminding herself to get back at her more appropriately later. She grabs her brown leather satchel off the table, disregards the curtailing howl from Raven, and sprints out the door.
Clarke woke up extra early this morning because she couldn't sleep, she was oddly excited for her second read through but she just chalked it up as restless gas in her belly.
She chose to wear her hair down this time in with loose wavy curls pinned back with small braids on both sides. Her eyes were delicately done with a touch of smoke, nothing too heavy as to say 'I am a diva' but just enough to say 'Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me.' Her outfit was less casual than before, wearing an emerald belly-crop top, the short sleeves split in the middle (color not inspired by anything at all) with a high-waisted white skirt that stopped just above the knee. A sliver of her stomach above her belly button shows when standing but she is fully covered when sitting down. She's the leanest she has ever been thanks to Indra's demanding schedule preventing her from her usual eating habits. Accessories on point along with her favorite stiletto heels, Manolo Blahnik BB beige pumps, she is dolled up. These are most expensive thing she owns, granted it was a gift from Mr. Blake after the post-production of Pike's Predecessor but come on—they are in Hollywood and to have a fancy pair of pumps was paramount. Okay, not exactly paramount to Clarke but he wouldn't take them back after many of her attempts to leave them on set. So she accepted her fancy footwear and decided to wear them today for no particular reason at all.
9:08
She pulls into Trigeda studios lucky she got all green lights and didn't get pulled over for speeding; she had to park near the end this time because she was one of the last ones there. Cursing her Manolos, she runs through the parking lot, passed the front doors and into the open elevators where she runs into a familiar face.
"In a hurry Clarke?" A fit dirty blonde with green-hazel eyes asks.
"Hey Niylah, and yes…very." She takes deep breaths calming herself before checking her phone.
Indra Malone
[8:55am] Where are you?
[9:00am] Being late reflects poorly on me and Heda Co. Clarke—Get here, Now.
-
"You look gorgeous! Heading to the read through up top?" Niylah says while looking the blonde up and down.
"Thanks" reading the last thing Indra said over again imagining pouring sand in Raven's bed. "And yes, Indra has me close to this project." She types a quick response… more like a fib.
[9:10am] Car troubles, in the elevator now.
"Where are you headed?" Clarke asks putting the phone back in her bag.
Ding
"Stopping at the 3rd floor here to work on surface treatments for the set. Have a good meeting Clarke, see you later!" She waves and steps off to the third floor. Niylah is the Key Scenic for Heda Co. and has been for the last four years. She was older than Clarke but they became fast friends when Clarke joined the Art Department.
She straightens herself up, double checks her makeup in the dull reflection in the elevator doors and turns her face side to side until settling on the fact that she looks good.
Ding
Stepping out confidently on the 5th floor, she strides passed the movie posters, passed the reception desk, and finds that the assistants who opened the doors the other day aren't there. Oh god… worst! Okay… you can do this.
She shakes her hands to get them ready to grip at the heavy things and takes a deep breath. Hearing voices behind the geared behemoths, she pulls at one of them.
Holy balls these are heavy! She yanks at it with a huff and as soon as the gap is big enough, she squeezes through. She leans against the other door from the inside just barely snatching her leg out from getting shut on.
9:14am
All eyes drift from the scripts on the table to the artist Clarke Griffin. Who is currently back flush against the door, a little redder in the face than she would like, dressed to the tens, forget the nines because she looks fantastic. However, her knees are grubbing and she can't help but clench her butt cheeks. She procures the sweetest smile she can muster and looks to Indra with an apologetic nod. The look on Mr. Blake's face was somewhat satisfying to see, but she didn't dare look to her left where she knows Lexa's eyes would be.
With out a word Clarke clears her throat and decides to act like she isn't bothered about the embarrassing entrance what so ever. She has a plan.
She walks her clenched butt cheeks to the front of the room where her old storyboards are hanging and she digs in her bag for the new scenes she worked on all day yesterday. The scenes are very detailed including the actors in the descriptive essence Finn was so passionate about at the last meeting. She uses the extra pins on the wall to post six complete works above the others. To her surprise she didn't drop a pin or paper as she quickly attempted redemption. After the last scene was posted Finn stood up and inspects her work.
"Ms. Griffin! This is fantastic! Exactly what I was envisioning…" He trails off as he moves to each one with a detailed eye. Clarke puts a thankful hand on his shoulder before making her way next to Indra. By his reaction alone, she knew she was off the hook. She doesn't want to speak because she would lose the mysterious confident demeanor she was trying to portray. It was working because there were smiles among the suits and Mr. Blake was staring again. Or rather he never stopped.
Clarke takes her seat and sits down with a refrained grin on her face, super satisfied with how this played out. Ten points for Griffin-dore! She cheers in her head as she imagines Hermione hugging her.
"Well played Griffin. Your sketches saved your ass from your declension day." Indra says to her without giving her the courtesy of her gaze.
Clarke's smile widens as she continues getting her supplies out of her bag to be ready for any new ideas, mostly she wants an excuse to look around the room. Not for any particular reason what so ever.
Nope.
Clarke was determined to resist looking over at Lexa for as long as she could, which wasn't very long because as soon as Finn sat back down with a fulfilled glow Lexa began where they left off.
"I don't see why I should go Carey, the neighbors and I don't exactly get along and their parties always seem so composed and secretive."
The first episode is a throw down introduction to the main characters where you get to see glimpses of their personalities for future episodes to come. Carey was Alycia's best friend and plays a personal bodyguard for Costia's character. And Carey is the only reason Alycia will do anything socially extraordinary. Her neighbors were Echo and Ontari who play, Lindsey and Marie in the show. They are a lesbian couple that invites Alycia to one of their parties that they routinely have twice a month. Alycia was a professional instructor, who owns her own company for boating. Her passion is for treasure hunting but she pays the bills by teaching high profile clients to surf and sail.
"Alycia, for once can you just accept an invitation? You're always out on the water by yourself fending off beach bimbos left and right. Who, may I remind you, I would be happy to take off your hands if you aren't interested in any of them."
[Carey chases Alycia around her beach house, as she gets ready for one of her lessons]
"Hear me out Lysh, You have always wondered what those parties are all about. So why not go and figure out yourself! I'll even go with you. I have been dying to break in my black cloak and Opus Dei mask anyway."
The tone Anya uses at the end of her line causes the room to boast in laughter.
Meanwhile, Clarke has the end of her pencil gripped tightly between her teeth; her eyes watch Lexa tuck her hair behind her ears while her head leans over the script following along. She watches her slight movements pretending to shuffle around the house as Anya recites her lines. Yuck, can you not be so adorable… Clarke beams at her as her lips move ghosting the lines Anya is saying next.
She begins to draw Alycia on the beach, imagining her in a tight wet suit pulled down to her waist. She draws a thin bikini top hugging her chest with a surfboard under her right arm. She glances up to get her jaw line correct. Clarke's tongue sneaks its way out to the side of her mouth as she studies her face. Can you just lift your chin—yes, like that…okay… She looks down at her drawing and finishes her neckline. Clarke looks up again to work on her collarbones. Man… they just stick out just right, perfect… just like—
Clarke bites down on the end of the pencil—hard. Shit!
One: not realizing she was biting the end while looking at Lexa's chest
Two: she has just been caught.
Lexa has her locked in a green-eyed vice; her lips smirk to the side for she has just caught Clarke Griffin checking out her chest. Lexa notices the artist's cheeks flush with crimson as she yanks her pencil out of her mouth and takes a huge swig of the water bottle that is placed in front of everyone's chair. Gotcha…
Clarke squirms in her seat searching for anything to cleanse her dry throat; she reaches for the water bottle above her sketchpad and quickly gulps down two large swigs. She can feel her cheeks burn. Slytherin steals those ten points from Griffin-dore and Hermione hugs Ron Weasley instead. Fucking shit!
She has an over active imagination, cursing herself under her breath for being so fair skinned. Any blush or blemish is highly noticeable and through out high school everyone knew who she had a crush on before she knew it herself. She would blush anytime they would come near her. It was truly embarrassing but didn't stop her ability to get the guy in the end. So suck on that!
After a few more read throughs of the last scene, Finn decides to call it a day. He has ideas he wants to get down to the third floor and a couple of meetings to finalize production set up. Production would begin in a few months and he was all too eager to make it pain stakingly perfect.
"Alright everyone, Great…Great job today! The characters are coming to life, Alycia good job on the angst. How are you on your workouts?
He uses their character names as to create the effect of it being their real name and encourages using them anytime in the studio to increase reaction times and comfort ability.
"Good, Lincoln has me on a strict diet and workout regimen." Her soft voice tickles Clarke's ear-balls.
Clarke whips her head a little too eagerly back at Lexa trying to notice her muscle tone. Who is this Lincoln and what regimen of his is he showing you?
"Alright well you're looking good, your training for surf and sail start next week. Study up on technique and terminology so you aren't completely fish out of water."
He writes something down in his planner.
"Carey, I want you to be a little sassier with your character. She is someone who breathes confidence and arrogance with a bit of immaturity. You look fit; Lincoln is doing well with you ladies. Your gun training starts in a few days before your surf lessons next week with Alycia. Lindsey, you did well but I want to see more force from you. You're the uptight partner who doesn't take shit from anyone. As for everyone else well done and I will see you back here in a few days, we will have the room cleared so we can move around and act out with our bodies too."
He turns from the cast and starts rambling off some of his ideas with Mr. Blake. Indra doesn't get up right away as she scribbles some notes down in her journal. She keeps this secret leather bound journal with all her thoughts, ideas, notes, and judgments tucked away between the lines. Clarke has always been interested as to see what she is writing but every time she has gotten a peak, it was written in a different language all together.
The meeting lasted a little over two hours and Clarke is starving. She hadn't had a chance to grab anything to eat or have her coffee before panicking into overdrive this morning. Her eyes skid across the wooded table into Lexa's direction. She was seated and watching Clarke steal a look, which went poorly considering she was caught yet again. But this time Clarke didn't shy away, she stares right into the moss and Lexa stares right back into the sea. Lexa's smile spreads infectiously through her cheeks as she bites her bottom lip. Clarke watches her take that lip into her mouth and she licks her own lip remembering how it tasted.
"Can I trust you to not be late again, I doubt some pretty drawings will save you next time," Indra states as she tucks her journal under her arm pulling Clarke from her private green room. "It is unbecoming and unprofessional Clarke."
"Uh.. No, no Indra. I will not let it happen again. Any adjustments or assignments you need me to do before the next read through?" She slowly tugs her eyes away from Lexa to look at Indra. She finds Indra looking at her with a smug smile as she stands.
"As a matter of fact yes. Mr. Blake requests your attendance at a lunch meeting today. I will require you to accept his invitation and report back to me on anything you've learned. And when I say anything, I mean everything. We will have lunch tomorrow to discuss."
Indra turns on her heel and walks to swim in suits. They are all sharks according to Indra and she doesn't trust any of them. Clarke's shoulders slump in reaction to her new 'assignment.' These kind of meetings often happened with executives and producers per Indra's request. She would ask Clarke to find their weaknesses, strengths, and vices, pretty much any small bit of information to get an upper hand some how later down the line. She knew Indra was calculative but something was happening and Clarke knew she was involved now. Despite being an innocent illustrator who attended side meetings for her director, she felt like a spy. The details she would collect were seemingly useless and the meetings mostly consisted of them flirting with her as she pretended to be interested. But Mr. Blake was different. He was a whale, according to Indra, and he kept to himself mostly. Clarke had been on many outings and lunches with Mr. Blake before but they would all end eerily the same. He would kiss her hand, thank her for her company, and walk off into a blacked out Aston Martin, which follows him everywhere he goes. It was all too Tom Ripley for her so she never paid much mind to it and preferred to stay the innocent illustrator. She isn't a con artist; she is just an artist.
Clarke gets up from her seat and adjusts her skirt. Gathering her bag she makes her way over to the sharks.
"Clarke, you look lovely today." Mr. Blake brushes off the conversation he was having and steps to intercept her. Eyes raking her like leaves.
"I understand you and I have a meeting." Clarke slices through the compliment—fruit ninja style and stands firm in her Manolos.
"Yes, that is if you accept my invitation. I have reservations at The Ark."
Clarke is starving and she wouldn't care if he made reservations at Burger King. She just wanted to eat. "The Ark sounds lovely, I am very hungry. Would now be a good time?"
"It would be my pleasure Clarke, meet me on the first floor. I just have to wrap up with the financiers real quick." Mr. Blake gives her a slight bow and extends his arm out toward the doors as to politely guide her to the exit.
Clarke silently complies making sure to hide her eye roll. The doormen are conveniently at their posts again holding the doors open for everyone as they exit. Kind of you to show up you Oompa Loompa door wielding—
"Draw anymore funny pictures?"
Christ!
"Do you enjoy sneaking up on people Lexa?" Clarke holds her hand over her chest to once again make her heart cease its demand to be let out of its cage.
"No, just you." She smugly says as they walk toward the elevator.
Clarke smirks but makes sure to wipe it off just as fast as it came. She can't help but notice the feeling of cocoons hatching baby butterflies in her belly while they walk together. She puts her hand to her stomach to shush them.
"Something wrong with your stomach too? It seems you're always falling apart around me." Lexa grins, turning to look at the numbers of the elevator increase to their floor.
Clarke squints her eyes at her, "Yeah, it tends to ache when it senses lack of humility." She says with attitude. Her make up definitely screaming 'I'm a Diva' now.
Green eyes are on her at once, the corners of her eyes wrinkling into a smile.
Apollo Brown- Blue Ruby
"I guess I will have to work on controlling my urges then." She walks forward into the empty elevator as she says the last words.
Urges? Clarke stands still as Anya, Echo, and Ontari walk passed her to pile into the elevator. Pray tell what urges do you speak!—
"On or off?" Anya snarks, clearly practicing her sass.
Clarke shifts into action and ambles into the elevator directly in front of Lexa. Her heart hums in satisfaction while her inner thighs start to sweat as she turns to face the doors.
The doors shut and suddenly Clarke takes notice to her surroundings. Stuck in a metal box with four gorgeous woman but only attuned to one. She smells her more prominently than all the others. For some reason her nose chooses to focus it's olfactory glands on her scent alone. This doesn't help Clarke in her stability what so ever. She feels the heat coming from behind and the sudden proximity of Lexa inching closer. It's like she is too close, closer than she should be. Clarke turns her head slightly to find she is correct and Lexa is purposefully standing a breath away. She can feel the hot air tickle her hair. Hot… yes, it is… oh my god… it's hot. They have only gotten to the third floor and Clarke feels really over heated. Her knees begin to shake, so she quickly tries to remedy the situation. She grabs the hairclip that clings to her bag and lifts her arms to twist her hair into a quick up do. Clarke takes a deep breath at the feeling of air on her neck and she bends one knee to hold her balance. Just as they hit the second floor she feels a nice strong breeze on the nape of her neck. She leans to the side as it relaxes her. Gosh yes… finally, some reprieve.
"Better?"
Clarke's core clenches (so do her butt cheeks) at the whisper in her ear. Hunno, oh man…
The breeze Clarke had succumbed to wasn't of the a/c variety but of one Lexa Woods blowing a soft current through those lips onto her neck. My god.
Ding
They reach the first floor and everyone piles out.
Except for Clarke.
And soon she realizes except for Lexa too.
Lexa leans in so close that she swears the baby hairs on her neck dance against Lexa's nose as she inhales. Is she smelling me?! Clarke straightens up and tries to clear her throat but it comes out more of a scratched moany whine. But before she can hear any a smug comment of Lexa's that she knows she is about to say, Clarke walks out of the elevator. She sees Niylah standing in the middle of the lobby with her phone in hand and she hurdles to her like a life preserver.
"Niylah!" She says probably too desperately. Once she reaches her she grabs her by the arm to support her wobbly knees.
"Gross Clarke, your hands are all sweaty!" She sturdies her stance feeling the weight Clarke puts on her. She puts an arm around her shoulders to support her.
"Are you okay?" she asks in genuine concern.
"Yeah I think I have Closter phobia or something."
Niylah looks up at a brunette glaring in their direction, "Or closet phobia…" She laughs and looks back down at Clarke catching her breath. "Who is that girl that keeps giving me the evil Jafar glare like I'm the street rat?"
"What?" Clarke turns to find Lexa twist her head toward the front and walk off as soon as she looks over. "Her name is Lexa. And she wasn't giving you a glare…was she?"
"Uh yeah, did you piss her off or something?"
Clarke let go of Niylah's arm, "No! I haven't done anything!"
Niylah laughs again, "OkayClarke... Anyways, want to grab some lunch? I just texted Raven and she is coming down from the second floor."
"She's here?"
"Yeah, they started working on the special effects of breakable props and collaborating on future possible stunts. They are supposed to bring in the new stunt coordinator in a few days. Niko broke his leg in three places today. Poor guy…"
Clarke frowns at the news, she really likes Niko. "Aw, damn. He really loves his job; he is really fun on set. Is he going to be able to come back to Heda Co.?"
Niylah shook her head shrugging her shoulders, "I heard that they let him go because of it. They got someone younger and apparently better than he is… or was. Gosh, he will be missed."
She leans in, "But I hear the new one is a hot babe."
Clarke rolls her eyes, "Great, like this project needs another one of those." She jokes but is seriously overloaded with hot gorgeous women lately.
Niylah's eyes widen a bit as she looks over Clarke's head but quickly looks back down at Clarke and changes the subject, "So you down for lunch or what?"
"I ca—AHH!"
Raven had snuck up behind her grabbing her bare sides with very cold hands.
"Raven! You punk ass! My heart seriously cannot take any more of you ridiculous women. I can't have lunch, got a meeting!" she yells toward them as she walks off in a complete heightened state. She finds the black Aston Martin parked out front and approaches the familiar driver.
"Hello Roan, is Mr. Blake in the car?" Clarke greets the man standing a few feet in front of him. He wasn't the biggest bodyguard she has seen but he looks limber and quick. His long brown hair is pulled back into a man bun that Clarke thinks doesn't suit him. He would look better with short hair but he refuses to listen to her hints. She loved challenging Roan, only once did she see a flick of a smile on his lips after teasing him relentlessly one day. But mostly he was a gargoyle, perched on the edge ready to fall on someone's head if they got too close to Mr. Blake.
"He will be right down Ms. Griffin." He opens the door to the backseat and allows Clarke to step inside to wait.
Mmm lavender and white lily? Lexa breathes in as Clarke enters the elevator practically secreting her scent on purpose. She can't help but step closer to the source. Her heart beats nearly knocking her forward into the back of the blonde. Lexa is so close now that she can smell her shampoo; it's sweet and silky. But that wasn't the smell she had caught a whiff of when she walked in. No, the one she smelled was much more savory.
I wish your hair were up so I can smell you… To Lexa's surprise as soon as she thought that, Clarke is whipping her hair up into a messy clip. Her thighs twitch at the sight of her baby hairs sticking to her neck.
She is sweating. Mmm.
Lexa notices the glisten of her skin begging to be remedied. Again, as if on command she tilts her neck to the side, exposing herself.
Yes… that's it…
Lexa leans in and catches her white lily lavender scent, before realizing it she is blowing on her skin, watching her hairs rise in yearning. She takes a deep inhale and inconspicuously blows from the base of her neck up to her ear. Clarke makes a tiny sound and leans back ever so slightly, which causes Lexa to lift her head to avoid her lips from hitting skin. Say something… Anything. She noticed, you have to say something….
"Better?"
Lexa watches Clarke stand straight up as if stung by something and her hands want to grab her waist to support her. She seems to always be hot and jumpy, is it me? She probably hates me…
Ding
I hope she doesn't hate me… No… She doesn't.
She can't…
Lexa decides to lean in; maybe this is her only chance to memorize that smell. She glides her nose and lips so close to Clarke's skin, not realizing everyone else had gotten off the elevator except for them and inhales deeply. She licks her lips, her eyes closed, and without a thought she begins to lean in to kiss her shoulder. But the smell was gone in an instant causing her to open her eyes.
Clarke is bounding toward a girl in the lobby who seems to waiting for her. Lexa observes as she grabs her the other girl.
She walks out of the elevator to get a better view and watches. Who is that?
"Niylah!"
She hears Clarke call her in desperation. Another beautiful girl she is close with!
Lexa's fist clench to her sides and her breathing deepens. She squints her eyes trying to see any affection pass between the two.
…And there it is.
She sees Niylah put her arm around Clarke. This makes her blood boil with an over powering urge to hit something. She can't take her eyes off of them even though the other girl has been looking right at her. Lexa's top lip flinches up as she lowers her brow but then Clarke turns and looks her way. Ahh!
Lexa jerks her head away like she wasn't just eye jabbing the other girl with her green knifey eye balls and storms away toward the front doors. Whatever.
She walks passed Mr. Blake's black Aston Martin and proceeds to cross the street to her car in the parking lot. She didn't ride with Costia today because she drives like a maniac and their history was getting in the way again. As she was getting into her Forest Green Jeep Rubicon, she sees Clarke getting into Mr. Blake's car. Are you serious! Who doesn't she know, and whom isn't she fucking?
Lexa doesn't know why she is jealous or why it matters. She has no foundation for her claims besides the fact that everyone seems to love Clarke.
Clarke, Clarke, Clarke… Ugh.
She is just mad at herself because she hasn't been able to stop thinking about Clarke since she slammed her in the bathroom wall at Polis. No girl has ever one-upped her like that and it was like a breath of fresh air after being suffocated all these years in between easy legs. She has needs like every other woman and it's not like Lexa has a new girl every night. That only happened her first week of fame. Now she barely lets anyone in her bed. Her interests were more profound than the landscape of a woman's body. She would say that she mastered that already—On to the next triumph. Lexa had always been active and never backed down from an adventure. She prides herself on her intellect and ability to dabble in any subject and hold her own. Her parents always encouraged her with anything she wanted to do. They bought her the best of the best in whatever she decided she wanted to learn. She got the best piano, the best camping gear, the best first edition novels by her favorite authors, she got the best horse, and even the best acting manager in Australia that most people couldn't get.
And as soon as she got her second major part as a child starlet her parents' private jet disappeared. They never found the plane and Lexa hasn't seen her parents in 18 years. She remembers them fondly and accepts the fact that they aren't ever coming back.
She snaps out of her daze to the sound of her phone ringing.
"Hello Titus"
"Hey! how is my favorite shooting star?" Titus is Lexa's manager/friend/agent. He has been there for her since her parent's disappearance and she cares for him deeply.
"Just finished with my second read through, sore from weight training and I start surf and sail lessons next week." Her voice comes off as half excited and half agitated.
"Ah, you sound stressed! Hey… I will schedule you a deep tissue massage at the spa. Go to your room and then when you're ready they will be ready for you downstairs."
Lexa sighs and thinks that would actually be nice, "Thanks Titus."
"Hey, you command the sky… my little star. Keep it up! I gotta go." Click.
Titus was always on the move, overbearingly intrusive but he cared for Lexa more than anyone else. Sometimes to a fault but Lexa loved him for it. She started her Jeep and headed back to her apartment.