Anya calls Lexa, who then gets stressed with Clarke and tells Abby to stop bothering trying to fix her. The rest of the chapter is Clarke and Lexa on Clarke's bed together.

So I didn't go camping because it rained and thundered, and so I spent Friday night writing this instead. I posted on AO3 yesterday but this site always takes so long I waited. Then I woke up to the news and cried. I hope everyone is safe and knows that love is love and I know we are proud of who we are, but I hope everyone still feels they can share it. ❤️💛💚💙💜💖

Chapter Six

Lexa stared at her ringing phone, frowning at the unknown number. She almost didn't answer because she was heading to Clarke's for their "sleepover" and after an extremely long shower, and even longer debate over what nightwear to take, it was possible she going to receive a text from Clarke at any moment to say she was outside. And now that she was finally ready, Clarke's thick winter coat on, and her bag slung on her shoulder, of course her phone would start ringing with the stressful unknown number. It wasn't in her nature to ignore calls so she accepted it and put it to her ear,

'Hello?'

'Hey, it's Anya.'

'Hi,' her eyes narrowed because she and Anya had never spoken on the phone, had barely spoken ever. Her stomach turned over with an unpleasant anxious feeling.

'Sooo,' she drawled the word, 'my dad says you have a boyfriend...' she sounded amused.

'I do not have a boyfriend.'

'No, but lucky your girlfriend has one of those names that can go for either,' Anya chuckled in amusement. 'You're hooking up with Arcadia's princess - I'm impressed little cuz.'

'She's my girlfriend like you said - so it's not "hooking up,"' Lexa stated with a scowl into the phone. She wanted to hang up, but needed to ask her cousin something first. 'So, why is it lucky Uncle Gus thinks she's a boy?'

'My dad's a sweet guy, not exactly big on words but sweet. Thing is, he's kinda traditional. Easier for you if he thinks it's a guy - well that's my guess.'

'Good to know,' Lexa released a weary sigh, wondering why a persons sexual identity had to be such a big deal for people it had no real impact on, why it was a big deal for anyone, except the person themself. For almost a minute neither said anything and Lexa was wondering whether she could just hang up, but then Anya spoke, filling the awkward silence,

'So how are you?'

'I'm good,' she lied. The life she lived was a distorted version of a ying yang sign. There was the swirl of bad, where her grief resided, the one spot of good in it being that she'd had her brother at all, and then there was the swirl of good in the form of blond hair, sky blue eyes, and the confident, caring girl they belonged to. There were others in that swirl of good, Raven, Octavia, and rather surprisingly Bellamy and most of his friends. The dark spot in the swirl of good was the small amount of negativity they'd received in the prior week - a few caustic looks, a couple of murmured slurs, Mel's parents request that Clarke be asked not to play soccer, Mr. Pike and his public pointed comments. All that negativity that was so entirely unwarranted. She sighed, because she was wrong, always so wrong.

Her life wasn't anything like a ying yang because all she really had that was good and hers was Clarke. In seven months she wouldn't have a home, wouldn't have school and wouldn't have family and Clarke would leave, because she was wonderful, smart and talented and her parents would ensure she had every opportunity to shine. Lexa knew that in seven months she would have nothing. Clarke shined brighter than the sun and would do so with or without her parents. She did not shine. She was a dull forgotten penny, dusty and worthless. Except she didn't feel worthless when Clarke was sat on her and kissing her because to not kiss her was an untenable option. She didn't feel worthless when Clarke sat bent over her sketch pad, trying again and again to draw her in a way she deemed good enough, claiming Lexa was just too beautiful to capture on paper. Looking at herself through Clarke's eyes she didn't feel worthless, but what could she hope to achieve in life? How could she ever be an enough for a girl like that? How could she, a shell, ever be enough for anyone?

'Bullshit,' Anya's voice broke through her minds rambling thoughts. 'I don't believe you're ok.' She sighed again,

'What do you want me to say?'

'The truth,' Anya's eye rolling was audible in her tone.

'I don't know you,' she reminded her cousin.

'But I'm family,' Anya told her casually.

'My brother was my family,' she snapped.

'Your brother is dead.'

'Shut the fuck up,' Lexa half yelled, feeling the harsh burn of tears and a cloying tightness in her throat.

'I'm sorry he's dead, but having no one talk about it, talk about him, ask you...doesn't that erase him?'

'Clarke talks to me about him,' she whispered, hollowed out by the still fresh grief.

'Good,' Anya sounded pleased.

'Why do you care? Your dad doesn't. Everyone else acts like he never existed. Like mentioning his name will cause me to cry or the world to fall apart.'

'I don't care exactly,' Anya answered, apparently being honest. 'I just...I guess I feel like I should.'

'Well don't worry. Seven months and I'll be gone from your life,' Lexa tried to ignore the hurt her cousins words caused.

'Fuck, that came out wrong. You're my cousin and you're right that we don't know each other, but all I'm trying to say is maybe we can get to know each other?' It was a fair suggestion. Lexa didn't hate what she'd seen of Anya - her cousin was brash and intimidating but she was intuitive too. 'So if you wanna text me about your girlfriend, or you know, moan about my dad...this is my number, ok?'

'Yeah, ok. Thanks,' she couldn't deny there was something about this offer of Anya's that appealed. 'I've got to go.'

'Friday night, where are you off to? Some wild party?'

'I'm going to Clarke's,' she admitted.

'Whoop - go and get some little cus,' she trilled down the phone and Lexa cringed at the crassness because it wasn't her - ever. She didn't like it because things with Clarke were new, and unexpected and precious to her because she had no one else, literally no one else.

'Please don't,' she spoke abruptly and Anya heard her loud and clear,

'Yeah, ok, sorry cus. I hope you have a nice time, yeah?'

'Thanks,' she wanted to end the call but instead headed downstairs.

'Where's my dad think you're staying?'

'I said I was having a sleepover with Clarke and Raven. I think he just likes me out of the house, or is relieved I'm out with a boyfriend rather than crying in your old bedroom.'

'Probably. He's pretty chilled out - I pretty much had free reign with boyfriends.'

'I've gotta go,' she smiled at the sight of Clarke pulling up in her car, her heart picking up, as her world felt suddenly brighter.

'Speak soon. Text me ok?' Anya shouted as if expecting her to already be gone.

'Ok, bye,' she ended the call and shoved her phone into her back pack before opening the passenger door.

'Lexa,' Clarke smiled happily, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. 'Who was on the phone?'

'My cousin.'

'Anya?'

'She's the only cousin I have,' she sounded churlish even to her own ears and she really didn't know why. She didn't want to start the evening behaving that way. She was just raw from her cousins brashness, from the tears she'd swallowed back inside, rather than shed. The world around her brightened when she was with Clarke, and yet she didn't always manage to.

'I was just checking I remembered her name right,' Clarke said carefully and Lexa dug her nails into her palms, embarrassed at her surliness, at her inability to hold her emotions together. She wasn't surly at Clarke, she only ever felt a swelling positivity for Clarke, but she became so easily overwhelmed as she tried to hold her fragmented soul together.

'I'm sorry.'

'Like grumpy Lexa scares me,' Clarke teased softly, reaching for her hand.

'She wants to be friends,' Lexa admitted and watched Clarke's concessionary nod,

'You are her cousin.'

'I'm a stranger.'

'One she obviously cares about. You and I were strangers until I landed on top of you, right?' she shot Lexa an earnest look.

'True,' she nodded.

'And you didn't come easy,' Clarke smirked at her double entendre and Lexa felt a flush rise to her cheeks.

'I think I was fairly easy,' she whispered.

'What else did Anya want?'

'To talk about Lincoln.'

'Do you want to talk about him?'

'Lincoln is dead. What am I supposed to say?' she snapped again but then covered her face with her hands.

'Who he was informs who you are Lexa. He helped raise you. He was your brother and your father and your friend. You can talk about him because you miss him, because you feel lonely, because you don't want to forget. You can talk about him because he is important even though he's gone.'

'You don't talk about Finn.'

'I only have his death to talk about. You have Lincoln's whole life. And I do talk to you,' Clarke reminded her, jaw tightening just slightly. An uncomfortable silence fell and Lexa hated herself, hated that she seemed to have ruined this night that she'd wanted so badly to be perfect. They sat in silence, and then walked into Clarke's house in silence.

'Clarke,' Abby was rushing around grabbing her coat, bag and keys, face freshly made up, hair immaculate, clearly on her way to work. 'And Lexa,' she smiled at her. 'It's nice to see you!' Abby Griffin had mastered the act of delighted surprise at seeing Lexa, yet again, with her daughter. Lexa didn't think Abby was suspicious that their friendship was more, but was still unsure what her reaction would be. Abby had already started hunting up scholarships, and investigating what sort of letter social services could provide to explain her GPA. Lexa had been a "project" before. It hadn't ended well and she was torn about how to handle Abby's well meaning help. The woman didn't seem to get it - that some people just couldn't break through the barriers thrust upon them at birth.

'Hi Dr. Griffin,' Lexa smiled politely.

'What are your plans tonight?' Abby stopped whirl winding for a second to smile at them both where they were stood awkwardly in the entrance hall.

'Pizza and a movie,' Clarke shrugged.

'No parties,' Abby gave her a pointed look.

'It was a gathering mom,' the girl rolled her eyes, full of disdain.

'So you say, but you didn't hide the booze bottles well enough to provide any back up to your claims!'

'Lexa said it was a gathering,' Clarke pointed out, as if this would add weight to her defence.

Well that's all you have going in your favour,' Abby pursed her lips and shot Lexa a smile. Lexa almost laughed out loud that she was considered a reliable reference for anyone. She felt sorry for Abby - when the woman realized that there was more than just absences effecting her GPA. Of course, her intelligence was just about the only thing not responsible for her shitty GPA. 'I have some scholarships we need to look at, to see if you're eligible Lexa. Maybe you can come for Sunday dinner and we'll do it then? We might need a letter from the doctor who treated your brother.' Abby's world was so very different to hers. She felt like a fraud, this woman was searching up ways to help her, trusting her word over Clarke's - her wonderfully sincere daughter.

'I'm not who you think I am,' the words escaped her without any real conscious thought and she instantly regretted them. Abby and Clarke turned to stare at her and even Raven hesitated on her way from the den to the kitchen.

'What do you mean?' Abby frowned and Clarke was staring at her confused. Her skin grew hot and prickled as they all looked at her. Adrenalin flooded her system making her feel momentarily nauseous and yet the words kept spewing out,

'I'm not trustworthy, or reliable. I'm not some girl you can save. My brother died and when he got sick I got angry and I did bad things. Awful things,' her nails cut into her palms. 'I didn't care about anything but him. I didn't care in general. You can't save me. You can't give me a future you think I deserve. I don't deserve it and I won't get it. So please...don't look at me like that, like you trust Clarke, your amazing, honest daughter, because I back up what she said. I'm not trustworthy and my life can't be fixed. I can't be fixed,' she said and then finally she focussed on Abby, saw her expression, obviously shocked and taken aback. Saw Raven, jaw slightly open as her eyes flicked between her and Clarke. She didn't want to look at Clarke, but she had to. The girls head was bent, her face not visible and she knew she'd fucked up.

'I'll go,' she turned and left, hating herself more than usual and wondering why she had to open her mouth, why she had to get so overwhelmed. She burst out into the cold, snowy evening, and stopped holding back the tears, letting them fall down her cheeks. She began her walk home, hating herself.

'Lexa,' Clarke's footsteps had been muffled by the snow and she jumped.

'I'm sorry,' she swiped at her eyes, as she ground to a halt. 'I just get so...so...'

'Overwhelmed?'

'Yeah. But I fucked up. I shouldn't have said that, any of that, but she was looking at me like I can be fixed and I can't, I can't be fixed,' her voice rose as she stared at this beautiful, whole and happy girl. And then she splintered down the middle because this girl, this wonderful amazing girl who knew just how to touch her and just what to say - she wasn't whole and she wasn't happy, or she hadn't been and there were glimpses of the pain still inside of her. Sometimes she'd catch Clarke with a far away look in her eyes, her face stricken, or with an awful dead stare Lexa recognized only too well, a she'd grip a pen or pencil so tight that her knuckles were white. Clarke got it, she understood her. They were two fractured souls that might possibly be reassembled to make one.

Lexa couldn't say how they went from being a metre apart to standing there in one another's arms, gripping on as if they might never let go.

'I don't want to fix you,' Clarke mumbled into her neck, 'I just want you to realize you aren't broken.'

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

'You said I wasn't broken?' Lexa spoke into the silent, moonlit room, where they had been lying tangled together on Clarke's bed for at least an hour.

'I don't think you are.'

'Then why am I like this?' her voice cracked, the words scratching her throat on their release.

'Because you're a girl who lost the only person in the world she was sure loved her. It would worry me if you weren't like this. And you cry, you become overwhelmed, you're quiet and withdrawn and that's understandable and right. But there are other parts of you too, parts I don't think you see but I do.'

'What parts?' Lexa rolled onto her side and starred at the perfect slope of Clarke's forehead, the silhouette of her nose and lips.

'You have those ear phones of yours and when you have them on...sometimes you do this little head bop to the music, and it's the cutest fucking thing,' Clarke turned and smiled at her. 'And there are these moments...when I'm drawing you and you look up and catch my eyes and you smile, this soft, secretive smile - I don't think you even realize you're doing it. You care - about me. I know you do, because of how you talk to me about things, because you want to know me. You take notes in class, you do your readings and your homework. You look pretty Lexa. That sounds dumb but I didn't wash...after Finn...for a while I couldn't and...you, you miss him. You miss Lincoln and you desperately don't want to forget and the pain...fuck I know the pain and it must hurt every time you breathe in and then again when you breathe out. But you are still you. And his death, this pain, all those moments where they become who you are - that's ok, because his death is a part of you, because he still is. Fuck I don't know if I make sense or...' Clarke's words were swallowed by Lexa's mouth, the kiss all that she could manage to let this girl know what it meant to her to be seen and to be understood.

She couldn't have spoken any words, there wasn't really air in her lungs to do so, but she had to show Clarke and so she kissed her, a breathless kiss of misaligned lips and thudding hearts, before she dragged in a breath and kissed her again, rolling into her, hands in her hair, pouring it all into that kiss, into the touch of her tongue against Clarke's. She broke away, and pressed their foreheads together, not wanting to make the kiss about more than her feelings for Clarke, her utter adoration of Clarke. But the girl lying beside her was staring at her, eyes wide, bottom lip caught between her teeth, as her hand rested where it was curled around the back of her neck - seemed to want more and she rolled them over. Lexa's back hit the mattress and Clarke was hovering above her, fair hair shining silver in the moonlight, eyes fixed on her as they breathed. Then they were kissing, but this kiss was nothing like the last. This was hot, needy, desperate. Clarke was straddling her waist, and kissing her like she was the embodiment of all she'd ever wanted. She felt like she was Clarke's life goal at that moment and she moaned because the feeling was intoxicating. Heat flooded her body, flooded between her legs, and she lost control of her thoughts, as her hands sought out Clarke's body, sliding over curvy hips and grasping the hem of her tank and then pushing it up. Clarke raised her arms willingly, and Lexa pulled the tank from her body before letting her eyes take in the soft pale skin underneath,

'Fuck,' she cursed, blinking hard as she tried to resist the urge to touch the skin revealed. They were big, soft looking and fucking perfect. Clarke let out a low chuckle and picking up her hand, placed it on her left breast. 'You're so...so...beautiful,' she whispered, brushing her thumb over the pebbled nipple, before squeezing it softly. Clarke's eyes scrunched up tight and she bit her lip again, the sexiest thing Lexa had seen on any girl.

'Lexa,' Clarke moaned her name, and began to tug at the t-shirt she was still wearing, trying to tug it up her body. 'Fairs fair,' she rasped, and Lexa moaned at the sound of it, as she compliantly lifted her body to allow the removal of her carefully chosen night shirt. Clarke's fingers ghosted across each boob, eyes eagerly absorbing them with the same intensity she used to draw, finger tracing the outline of areole and her nipple, before she dipped her head and licked across the skin.

'Clarke,' Lexa shook slightly, but the girl just smiled against her chest.

'They looked so pretty,' she told her, before lying on her, allowing their bare chests to slide together. Lexa didn't think she'd ever forget that feeling, the softness, the cool silkiness of Clarke's beautiful chest, pressing intimately against hers. It was other worldly to her, transporting her away from the thoughts that seemed to crowd her, drown her, and into a space where she was some eighteen year old girl, lying on a bed with her beautiful, wonderful girlfriend.

'You wanna talk about pretty?' she asked, rubbing her nose against Clarke's chin, before pressing her lips there. 'You have...god...you have the best boobs I have ever seen.'

'I do have good boobs,' Clarke grinned. 'But so do you.'

'So boobs? You like them? In general, I mean,' she cupped Clarke's in her hands, honestly captivated, thrilled that her long fingers meant only a little of the soft flesh over spilled when she held them. Lexa was certain that if she were allowed to sleep with her head against Clarke's chest she'd probably actually sleep, rather than lie in her bed pretending to.

'One of the first things that made me realize I was bi was how much I'm turned on by boobs,' Clarke smiled at her. 'And you - you've got great boobs.'

'It's funny...but there's cute words for them, there's medical words for them, there's crass words for them, and silly words but there isn't really a word that encapsulates quite how amazing and world righting a boob is,' she sighed and lowered her head to press small gentle kisses over Clarke's soul saving chest.

You mean sweater meat and headlights don't work for you?' The soft tease caused Lexa to look at her with faux disdain,

'No. Definitely not. Your amazing tits deserve better.'

'You're going with tits?' Clarke giggled.

'Better than gazongas or chesticles, right?' she trailed her kisses lower, as Clarke giggled again. She wanted to suck the nipple into her mouth, to feel it with her tongue and hopefully make Clarke groan in the process. She rolled them over trailing kisses down Clarke's neck and over her clavicle.

'Breast or mmmmboob?' her girlfriend moaned the word as Lexa reached her goal, and sucked the nipple into her mouth.

'If you want,' she offered, releasing the nipple a couple of minutes later, only to move her from face side to side, allowing the perfectly pebbled bud to brush along her lips as she did so. 'It's just, those words really, really don't seem in any way appropriate for your gorgeous, beautiful chest.'

'You sound like a horny teenage girl,' Clarke sighed, tugging her face up so they were level again.

'A horny teenage, lesbian girl.'

Clarke smiled, and coughed before speaking dramatically, 'Her tits were ethereal in their beauty, like snow white orbs on a bed of blue. They beckoned to my lips, begged for the soft caress of my mouth. Too much for my girls small hands, but just enough for my long slender fingers to hold, as if my hands were merely goblets created to hold such splendour,' she began laughing at herself and Lexa's serious nod of agreement,

'Yeah, that,' she told her and Clarke giggled again, such a gorgeous carefree noise. A smile wove itself across her face, and she hid it in the ethereal beauty of Clarke's snow white orbs.

'You have a beautiful smile Lexa,' Clarke ran her fingers through her hair, but didn't ask that she share it. Lexa knew she understood the guilt of each smile, especially one so genuine.

They lay together in silence for a few minutes, Clarke tracing patterns on her back, then playing with her hair.

'I'm sorry I ruined our sleepover,' Lexa broke the quiet.

'You didn't ruin anything you dork,' Clarke raked her nails against her skull and Lexa sighed contentedly.

'You sure?' she raised her face from the warmth of Clarke's chest and looked at her.

'I'm sure,' she tugged her a little higher and kissed her gently. 'I just like being with you.'

'I like being with you too,' she lay beside her, hand trailing over her stomach and back up to those pretty, pretty boobs.

'And you found school ok?' Clarke asked. 'I mean this week - now that everyone knows.'

'Yes,' she nodded.

'Give me more than that,' her girlfriend prodded her softly.

'It was ok. There hasn't been any of the...uh... really bad stuff from before...I mean when I'm with you the stares are ok. Everyone respects you,' it had been on the tip of her tongue to say that everyone loved Clarke, but that wasn't exactly true. The student body didn't seem to know what to make of Clarke. She was still the queen of the school, but as such she seemed to rule alone. Somehow she was involved in everything, and yet somehow she remained above everyone else. Lexa felt that people had left her there as Queen because it was easier to hate her if they out her in a throne, easier to claim they didn't understand her, easier to look at her and associate her with death, easier to allow her to be an enigma without pressure to work out who she was. People claimed she was too cool, to superior, that she was full of herself, that she only had a few friends because she was so self involved. Lexa closed her eyes as a painful realization hit her,

She trailed off, uncertain how to broach the subject.

'I what?' Clarke smiled easily.

'You're on the soccer team, the debate team, the chess team, the drama club, you take advanced math and sciences and you draw, constantly...' she stared at blue, blue eyes and the silence stretched between them before Clarke looked away, the smile falling from her face as her head turned from Lexa. 'It's ok, I get it,' she whispered, moving up to kiss her neck and brush her fingers through soft, fair hair. Lexa lost herself in silences, in voids of time and space, in memories. Clarke didn't allow herself the time to stop, she never stopped because then she wouldn't be forced to remember. Clarke was kept apart from others but it wasn't entirely their decision - she wanted and needed that separation because she didn't want to be confronted with what she had done. Even dating Bellamy - he provided a barrier between her and others, and Clarke seemed to need that to protect herself from the memories in her head. Lexa wallowed and Clarke avoided. Maybe Clarke would be able to help her learn to swim instead of drown in her thoughts, find ways to slow her brain down and maybe...maybe she could help Clarke wade through the memories she was trying so hard to avoid so that she might begin to feel that they were more manageable. If that was what she wanted.

'You do?' Clarke turned her head back and they were so close their noses bumped together.

'You don't want to think about it.'

'No. Never.'

'I understand,' she said and then pressed a kiss to her lips, 'all I do is think about it.'

'At first I did. I couldn't function. I couldn't. All I could feel was his blood on my hands, all I could hear was that noise the root on his skull, of it sinking into his brain. So I played music to drown out the noise, I began to draw, trying to get rid of that moment, the one when I realized he wouldn't wake up, when I realized he was dead, his eyes still and unseeing. I'd grip a pencil the whole time even if I wasn't dropping, holding onto something solid, but then I would drop it when my hand grew sweaty because it was like his blood was all over my hand. The busier I became the less I could think, could feel, and the further others drifted from me. I was there but not there...'

'Which way is best?' Lexa asked. There was a small shrug, as their arms held each other close.

'I don't know. Sometimes you have to do whatever it takes to make it through, to survive.'

'Have you ever wondered if you want to?' Lexa asked and Clarke kissed her.

'To survive?' Clarke queried without judgement. Lexa nodded. Yes,' she admitted. 'Right after, I wondered.'

'Me too. But I know how much it would hurt Lincoln, which is dumb because he's not even here, but he did so much to get me to this point and I just...couldn't...'

'I know. It was never a serious thought for me...And I know, I really do, that life should be about more than just surviving but I've just never really known how to get that...' Clarke gave yet another dainty shrug.

'Being with you helps,' Lexa admitted and Clarke smiled,

'Being with you helps,' she agreed. 'Being with you is the first time in two years I've been able to stop and not be taken over by the weight of it all.'

'I'm glad,' she smiled again and this time she didn't hide it.

'One day I want to make you smile long enough that I can draw it,' Clarke's fingertips touched her lips.

'You could take a picture you know,' Lexa teased softly and Clarke gave a self-deprecating chuckle,

'Yes, ok. And I will.'

'Ok.'

'Do you want to talk about what happened to you at school in DC?' Clarke cupped her face, fingers still brushing over her lips.

'No,' Lexa shook her head. 'I don't want to be that girl who only talks about bad things.'

'You're not,' Clarke reassured with a small laugh. 'You're very hard on yourself.'

'The thing is,' Lexa turned, rolled onto Clarke in a bold move, thigh almost accidentally landing between hers, 'I want to impress you. I want you to think I'm special, because I really, really like you.'

'I'm impressed,' Clarke told her with wide eyes, before her eyes flicked between hers, her lips and where their chests were pressed together. 'There's something about you. There was something about you from the second I landed on you back in September. I don't want you to be someone you not, and I just...I want to know everything about you.'

'Really?' she let a teasing note into her voice, 'like how much I adore boobs?'

'Yeah.'

'And how much I love the colour blue,' she bopped her nose gently against Clarke's.

Hmmm.'

'And how I think you're the most amazing person I've ever met,' she kissed her then, a deep, ardent kiss. It wasn't that she didn't want to share everything with Clarke, she wasn't really trying to distract her from seeking an answer to her question, it was more that when she was with Clarke memories of those things lost their sharpness, they became softer and somehow less weighty than they were when she was alone.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

'L...e...x...a...' the soft coo broke through her dreams and wrested her from sleep.

'Hmmm?' she felt the momentary confusion as to where she was, but the soft, smooth, naked plump pillow where she rested her head got rid of that feeling quickly. 'Mmmm,' she nosed the pliant flesh, pressing a sloppy kiss to warm skin. Clarke hitched in a breath and Lexa felt emboldened, felt closer than ever to her beautiful girlfriend. Her mouth latched onto Clarke's neck, kissing and sucking, especially above the glorious flutter of her pulse.

'Mmmm Lexa,' Clarke stretched, and Lexa rolled off of her, ignoring her grunt of protest, as she positioned herself alongside this fucking triumph of genetics. She continued her assault on Clarke's neck, moving down to nibble along her collarbone, as her hand found a perfect boob and palmed it gently, fingers brushing her nipple, squeezing, rolling, and then repeating each one until Clarke's moans became breathy, tortured groans, until her hips began to lift from the bed. Satisfied she dropped her lips to the neglected boob, licking over the peak and allowing the air to cool it, before sucking it into the warm cavern of her mouth, her hand smoothing down ribs and over the smooth expanse of Clarke's perfectly soft stomach, the curve of her hip, before dragging it to her belly button and dipping a thumb into it.

'You ok?' she pulled back for a second, and blue eyes locked with hers, dark and hazy.

'Yes,' Clarke's voice had dropped nearly an octave.

'Can I...uh...put my hand between your legs?' she didn't want to do anything Clarke wasn't absolutely sure she wanted.

'Yes,' Clarke nodded and Lexa lifted her hand, placing it back down on the warmth of Clarke's thigh, somewhere beneath the hem of her pyjama shorts. 'Please,' the plea caused a flip in Lexa's stomach, but she didn't rush, just trailed a path over Clarke's firm thigh, sucking her nipple back into her mouth. She laughed when Clarke's hand found hers and pushed it higher. She wanted to push her fingers under those small shorts but didn't want to move too fast, so she lifted her hand before running her fingers between Clarke's legs, over the top of damp material. She moaned at the feeling, at Clarke's responsive lift of her hips and small grunt of need. She pressed down more firmly, moving her fingers until she found the girls clit, obvious from Clarke's cry of appreciation.

'There?' she teased softly.

'Yes,' Clarke gasped as she smoothed her thumb over the material covering that sensitive bundle of nerves, as her fingers rubbed gently against where the material was damp, wishing there was no material. Lexa pressed a kiss to Clarke's breast and then looked at her face, studied each reaction to each move and swipe of her fingers. Her bottom jaw would drop slightly when her thumb made a circle, and her eyes would scrunch when she pressed against her entrance. She wanted to learn Clarke.

'Fuck,' Clarke grabbed at her hand and Lexa's heart thudded, worried that she'd done something wrong, though there was no sign of that. 'Please,' Clarke mumbled, pressing her hand flat to her abdomen and pushing it down. 'Touch me.'

'This is sex. Are you ready for sex?'

'Fuck yes,' Clarke nodded, hips rising again. 'Fuck...are you?' she added as an afterthought. Not that Lexa felt like one. Lexa knew she was leading this but Clarke was in charge. She considered the question. She wasn't sure what being ready looked like exactly. She didn't know if she was ready for sex, sex which brought you out of yourself and could make you lose yourself. But she was ready for Clarke. Had been ready her whole life for someone like Clarke.

Instead of answering the question she pushed her hand under the waist band of Clarke's shorts, lower over the short, neat hair, and then brushed her thumb over her clit in that circular motion that caused the jaw drop. Clarke didn't disappoint. She groaned loudly, hips pushing into her hand, as her teeth clamped down on her lower lip and her head fell back.

'Lexa,' Clarke's lips formed her name but no sound came out.

Lexa dropped her fingers lower, let them slide through wet folds, let them get coated in Clarke's arousal, let that slick feeling cover her index finger and her middle finger, before dragging it up and swirling it around her clit. Clarke was so warm, so wet, so fucking wonderful. The feeling of her warmth, the intimate softness against her fingers was overwhelming, but right in every way.

'Fuck,' the moaned curse from Clarke emboldened her. Her thumb swirled easier with the wet she'd dragged up, and she let her index finger part soft folds, before curling it and letting the knuckle rest against Clarke's entrance. Clarke's hips canted towards her, 'more,' she begged, and Lexa gave her more, because she would willingly give her everything. She uncurled her finger and pushed it a little way in. Clarke them moved her body and the finger pushed fully inside of her. Lexa didn't think she'd ever feel something as perfect as her finger encased in the most intimate part of Clarke. Her body lurched and pounded and thrummed desperate to give her more.

'Ok?' she checked and Clarke nodded.

'Please,' she whimpered and Lexa nodded, moving her finger out, and then pushing two back in. 'Fuck,' Clarke caught her in a clumsy kiss, as she began to pump her fingers in and out of Clarke, a hedonistic freedom to the act, a delicious willfulness to give pleasure. She curled her fingers, she circled her clit, and she kissed her, trying to put both affection and sexiness into every move of her body against Clarke's. She wanted Clarke to fall apart in the best way possible, and so she listened to her noises, used them to find that spot inside, then memorized the curl of her fingers that had hit it. She fluttered her thumb across her clit, rubbed circles over it, tweaked it, squeezed gently, working out what made Clarke mewl and her hips buck into her thrusting fingers, what made her grip on the duvet tighten, what made her back arch and her groan out her name. She felt Clarke's body begin to tremble around her fingers and she thrilled at the feel, the soft caress of fluttering walls as the girl began to fall apart. Her mouth found Clarke's breast, kissing and sucking as Clarke cried out, her hands landing on Lexa's and holding her fingers inside of her, thighs closing tight around both their hands as she trembled and shook. Then her legs fell open, and the press of her hands grew slack and she could move her fingers gently, lovingly.

'You are good with your fingers,' Clarke mumbled the words into the pillow. Lexa gave a shy laugh, as she pulled her hand reluctantly from the girls shorts and curled herself up into her side, bringing her face alongside Clarke's so they could kiss, and then kiss again, and then kiss some more.