Author's note: Chapter 4! I'm excited, this one is nice and juicy. Let me know your thoughts/suggestions/questions/likes and dislikes! I love to hear from you :)
CHAPTER 4
The sun had begun to stream through Lexa's lacey curtains, but it hadn't woken her up. In fact, Lexa hadn't fallen back to sleep at all after being woken up at three am by her prodigy. Instead, she gazed down at the younger woman, whose arm was draped over Lexa's middle and head rested on her chest, as the sunlight licked at her soft facial features. Lexa let herself smile – after all, the girl was asleep.
Not for long.
Clarke stirred and Lexa realized that she had been stroking the long golden locks splayed out on her chest. Cursing herself for possibly waking up the other girl, she sucked in a deep breath as bright blue eyes opened and immediately sought hers.
Lexa hadn't the time to erase the smile playing on her lips, and Clarke's heart fluttered. It was the first time she'd seen the brunette smile at her (besides the knowing smirk she'd grace her with when she swayed her hips seductively).
"Morning," Lexa purred, absentmindedly continuing to stroke Clarke's hair. Clarke not so absentmindedly wrapped her arms tighter around Lexa's torso.
"Morning," Clarke responded. "When, uh… when to we perform?"
Lexa's smile melted. Clarke cursed herself for chasing away the beautiful new feature.
"One," she muttered.
Clarke nodded as she eased herself up, her muscles screaming at her in pain.
"Thanks for letting me crash here last night," Clarke said as a blush crept into her cheeks. "I didn't mean to be a burden."
"You weren't a burden at all," Lexa assured, twirling a lock of her hair as she gazed up from her position laid back on the bed.
"I should go."
Clarke stood to get up from her position, wanting to read for a few hours and rest before the performance.
"Wait, Clarke," Lexa jumped, sitting up and grabbing the blonde's wrist. Clarke looked back eagerly in anticipation, but then Lexa shook her head.
"Try to get some practice in. I'll pick you up at noon."
"How do you know where I live?" Clarke asked, curiosity masking her disappointment.
Lexa winked.
"I have my ways."
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
Clarke tugged on her red dress, tight in the bodice and flaring out from the waist down. Her blue eyeshadow and dark red lipstick was a bit much she thought, but when she'd gone to Raven asking for fancy makeup, her older sister was more than willing to comply. Clarke had stood there patiently as little brushes and sponges tickled her face. Then, she waited.
She waited and waited while her sister went to the beach in her high-waisted swimsuit.
She waited and waited while her mother went to bingo.
She waited and waited while her father looked at her with a quirked eyebrow, then left to go to a dance class (which was not being taught by Octavia, as she'd left for the abortion that her father unknowingly was paying for).
Clarke was ready early. So was Lexa – the knock came at 11:45.
Clarke opened the door and she took in the woman before her. Lexa stood there in black character shoes (making her now unfairly taller than Clarke), tight black pants that hugged all of her curves perfectly, and a white blouse that dipped low enough for an unfair amount of cleavage to be exposed. While the getup certainly would make the audience understand that Lexa was dancing the male part, it was far from masculine. In fact, Clarke didn't think she'd ever seen her instructor look so feminine before – and she'd seen her in a dress.
"You look nice," Lexa stammered, hands shoved in her pockets.
"You too," Clarke responded with a soft smile.
The walk to Lexa's car was treacherous. While neither girl ever had much of a problem walking in character shoes, the rain that had come the night before made the ground muddy and perfect for capturing and sucking in heels.
They finally made it to the staff lot, where Lexa walked up to a beautiful Chevy Impala and smiled proudly.
"This is yours?" Clarke asked incredulously.
"Yup," Lexa grinned. "Got her when I graduated high school."
"When… when was that?" Clarke asked hopefully. Lexa noticed and shot her a look.
"Two years ago."
So Clarke was right, Lexa was twenty. That meant she wasn't legal…
Then again, neither was she because of the obvious fact that they were both females, and Clarke mentally scolded herself for the fiftieth time that week.
"Well, let's go," Lexa insisted, interrupting Clarke from her thoughts. Taking out her keys, she unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for Clarke, then climbed into the driver's seat.
After arriving to the location (which was at a sister resort a few miles away), Lexa pulled Clarke into the backstage area five minutes before show time.
"What if I forget the moves?" Clarke asked, her heart racing. What if… what if I can't do the lift?"
"Listen to me, Clarke," Lexa soothed, putting her hands on either side of Clarke's face to calm her. The action had the desired effect. "Clarke, you've grown so much. You can do every move in this dance backwards in your sleep. I have every faith that you're going to do a superb job. But right now I need you to pull yourself together. Listen to me."
Lexa took Clarke's right hand in her own and placed it on the blonde's chest. Her heart was racing. Then, she moved her student's hand and placed it on her own chest. The instructor's heart was racing, too.
"You're not the only one who gets nervous, Clarke," Lexa breathed. "You just have to learn to control it."
Lexa then placed her own hand on Clarke's chest and pressed their foreheads together. The two dancers stood there, feeling each other's hearts beat and breathing in the same air. Their paces seemed to slow down in synchronization until they were calm and collected. Just as their eyes were opening to look at each other, just as Clarke started to lean in and just as Lexa was starting to tilt her head to the side, the stage manager hurried up to them.
"It's time," he said, before shooting them a confused and disapproving look.
"You can do this, Clarke," Lexa assured her before they walked onstage in the pitch darkness. An announcer's voice spoke up.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the voice said, "for your entertainment at the Sheldrake Hall: Lexa Castle and partner dancing Johnny's Mambo!"
The lights flashed on and Clarke couldn't help but stare at the size of the crowd. Her heart started to beat quickly again in terror as Lexa's arms wrapped around her from behind.
"You can do this, Clarke," she assured again as her hands got into position and the girls performed their slow-paced intro. "You can do this."
Then, the music picked up and Lexa's arm snapped Clare away from her and spun her back in, beginning the fast-paced partner dance.
Things were going smoothly. A few mistakes were made, but somehow Clarke had managed not to fall on her face or trip Lexa.
And then came the lift.
Clarke knew she couldn't from the moment she saw Lexa walk to the other end of the stage in preparation. Even with Lexa whispering encouragements in her ear right before the two broke away for the lift, Clarke knew. She mouthed at Lexa across the stage.
I can't.
Lexa's eyebrows furrowed as she mouthed back.
You will.
Clarke didn't. She ran up to Lexa in preparation and she screeched to halt before performing it. It didn't look like a mistake to the audience so much as just an anticlimactic dance move. Lexa shook her head as she picked up Clarke's slack and they continued the dance.
Finally, they struck their final pose and were met with a hearty applause. They bowed to all angles and waved as Lexa pulled her offstage.
"Oh, God," Clarke cried, about ready to burst into tears.
"You were great, kid," Lexa said. She didn't say it with much emotion, but she meant it. Even though Clarke had dropped the ball on the lift, she kept going. And she did well. Lexa had to give credit where credit was due.
"Real great."
The drive home was different from the drive up. Clarke jumped into the back seat to change into regular clothes while Lexa drove up front.
"Oh my gosh, did you see the size of the crowd?" Clarke gushed. Lexa smiled and shook her head in the front seat. Her smile disappeared as she took in the glance in the rearview to see that Clarke was taking her shirt off, and the braw she was wearing was not the large wrapped bra that she'd sometimes rehearsed in, but a tiny lacey bra that made Lexa's eyes bulge and her heart skip and a warm, familiar feeling pool between her legs.
Shit, she thought.
Their jovial mood (and the slight but growing tension between them) was ruined, however, when they got back to the staff's quarters at night to find a very anxious Bellamy.
"Jesus, Lex, how long does it take to drive back?!" he spazzed. "Listen, the abortion was a botch. They got the baby, but it was some back ally guy who didn't know what he was doing and really messed up Octavia."
Lexa literally pushed Bellamy aside, along with anyone else who was in her way, as she raced up the stairs to where she knew Octavia's room was. Clarke hurried up the stairs behind her and entered to find Octavia in bed. She was drenched in sweat, pale as a ghost, and heaving in pain. Clarke was experienced for a high schooler in the medical field, but she had absolutely no idea how to help in this situation.
She needed her mother.
"Octavia?" Lexa pressed, dropping to her side and cradling her head. "Are you okay? What happened? We need a doctor, Clarke. We need a-"
"They'll find out what happened and take my job, Lex," Octavia grunted out in protest.
"My mother," Clarke responded, finding the perfect answer. "My mother's a doctor. She can help us."
"How can we be certain she won't rat us out?" Lexa growled.
"We can't," Clarke shrugged. "But you really don't have another choice."
And that was how Abby Griffin ended up in Octavia's room with an anxious Lexa, Bellamy, and Clarke all waiting outside the door. As soon as it opened, all three of them rushed up to her.
"She'll be fine, she's resting," Abby assured them. "You can see her now."
Bellamy and Lexa rushed while Abby closed the door behind them so she could speak to her daughter in private. She crossed her arms.
"So this is where your father's and my hard-earned money went?" Abby began. "This is where you've been spending your time? And the people you've been giving it to?"
"Mom, I-"
"Clarke, I don't want to hear it. Spending your time with scrappy boys and dykes is no way an aspiring doctor should spend her summer."
At that moment, Lexa threw the door open and stared at Abby in insult. She'd heard exactly what the protective mother had said, and it hurt her. Abby sighed, turning back to her daughter.
"You're not to see these people anymore, we're going home."
Abby turned to leave, then called back to Clarke.
"And take that makeup off, you look like a harlot."
When she was gone, Clarke turned regretfully back to Lexa, whose angry expression she knew was just a cover. Lexa was hurt.
"Lexa, I'm so-"
"Just go, Clarke," Lexa interrupted, not looking back into Clarke's eyes. "Wouldn't want you spending too much time with us scrappy dykes, we might rub off on you."
Clarke understood and left as quickly as she could.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
She couldn't stay away for long. When her family was finally in bed (and thank God they were early-to-bed kinds of people), she slipped out of her house and headed to Lexa's cabin. The path had become so familiar to her, she hardly had to even focus on it.
She arrived and knocked – this time Lexa's lights were on. The radio was blasting and Clarke peeked in the window to see Lexa aggressively executing sets of pushups and crunches. Her t-shirt wasn't that tight, but the sweat it was drenched in caused it to cling to her body, and Clarke couldn't deny that Angry Lexa was also very, very Sexually Appealing Lexa.
She knocked, and waited for the music to stop. The door opened and Lexa stood for a second, panting and staring at Clarke, before stepping aside to let the blonde in. She reached to shut off the radio, but Clarke shook her head.
"Leave it on."
Lexa did as she was told, but turned it down so she could hear her prodigy better.
"I'm sorry. About the way my mother treated you and spoke about you."
"No, no. Your mother was great. The way she took care of Octavia…"
"I mean the way she was with you," Clarke explained. "Lexa, I came here because my mother-"
"No, the way she saved 'Tavia – I could never do anything like that. That was something. People treat me like I'm nothing because I am nothing."
"That's not true," Clarke countered. "You're everything."
"You don't understand the way it is for somebody like me. Last month I'm eating candy to stay alive. This month, nasty, pervy men are stuffing diamonds in my pockets for private 'dance lessons.' I've never known anyone like you. You think you can make the world better. Somebody's lost, you find them. Somebody's bleeding, you got your mom. That took a lot of guts to go get her! You're not scared of anything."
"I'm scared of everything!" Clarke insisted. "I'm scared of what I saw! I'm scared of what I did, who I am! I'm scared of walking out of here and never feeling for the rest of my life the way I feel…"
She paused and swallowed, gathering up the courage to speak her next words.
"…the way I feel when I'm with you."
Lexa looked up from her position seated on the bed, surprise in her eyes. She stood and walked over to the radio, wanting something to distract herself, to keep her from jumping the blonde. She started switching through channels until it landed on a song she liked. A soft song, a lulling song. She turned back to Clarke, her heart beating faster than it had earlier before their performance.
"Dance with me," Clarke murmured.
"What, here?" Lexa asked.
Clarke nodded.
"Like we have this week?"
Clarke shook her head.
Lexa understood and stepped forward to take the smaller girl in her arms. She slid her hands along Clarke's slides as the younger girl's hips began to swivel. Lexa responded in kind as the two began to dance the way they had when they'd first met. Clarke slid her arms around Lexa's neck and tilted her head back, her body following, as Lexa dipped her around in a circle and eased her back up. This time when the taller girl's leg found its way between hers, Clarke didn't ease up on her movements.
Lexa's hands worked their way into blonde locks as their movements became stronger, full of need, and Clarke's lips found a sharp jawline, peppering the still damp-with-sweat skin with gentle kisses. Lexa's hands smoothly slid down Clarke's back and grasped her behind tightly. Clarke's head titled back gently and a soft breath husked out of her throat. Their movements continuing, their eyes locked on each other, Lexa's eyes asked if it was really what Clarke wanted. The latter gave a brisk nod. Lexa then leaned in gently and captured the shorter girl's lips in her own.
Clarke responded eagerly, her hands grasping at Lexa's rolling hips and pulling them tighter to her own. The kiss turned from gentle to lustful, and Clarke could feel Lexa pushing her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the other woman's bed. Clarke let it push her back onto the bed. Lexa gazed at her, slowly lowering herself onto the younger girl.
"Clarke?" Lexa asked.
Clarke nodded and kissed the girl above her, kissed her until she could kiss her no more. As the two women's rhythms found cadence, the bliss that swept over Clarke numbed her mind. Lexa taught her that night how to love another woman, and Clarke had never been a more eager student for her teacher.