Clarke glanced at her watch as she hurried across the busy intersection. She was running late to her brunch date with Raven and Octavia. Again. But she had a reason for it this time. She had been showing a potential client some of her art pieces and he had more questions than she expected. She finally reached the restaurant and spotted the two of them sitting outside on the patio. When the hostess approached, she pointed towards their table and mouthed "my friends" as she continued to walk to them.
"Sorry I'm late, guys. I was held up with a client," she said as she dropped her bag into the empty chair next to the one where she sat.
She could see from the looks on their faces that they hadn't seen her coming. She saw them share a look with each other before Octavia cleared her throat and spoke. "No problem, Clarke. We got your text."
Raven nodded and added, "We just ordered some drinks. Here, take a look at the menu. Everything sounds really good." Raven hands her one of the menus before quickly looking away. Clarke noted that both girls were suspiciously avoiding eye contact with her, with Raven feigning renewed interest in the menu, and Octavia rummaging through her purse for some unknown object.
"Were you two just talking about me?" Clarke asked, finally.
They shared another guilty look.
"We were just talking about how you were doing." Raven gave her a small, guilty, forgive-us grin.
"Guys, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me. Lexa and I . . . we broke up over three months ago. I've broken down in front of both of you, separately and together, I think enough times for the rest of my life. So I'm fine now."
They both looked at her, incredulous.
After Lexa left, Clarke had withdrawn into herself even more than she had after the accident. Her previous months of emotional turmoil while battling her guilt from being around Lexa had already left her drained and numbed, and the loss of Lexa just magnified that. She became a shell of even post-accident Clarke, staying in her apartment during most of the day, painting anything and everything. But she couldn't bear to sleep in the apartment at night, when the quiet of the city was too much for her. So she started sleeping over at her friends' homes. Mostly Raven's, because she lived closer and wasn't living with anyone, like Octavia was. Sometimes, in the middle of some of those nights, when she was sleeping in Raven's bed, the weight of her situation would come crashing down on her, suddenly, unexpectedly, and cause her such distress that try as she might (so as not to wake her friend), she could not hold in her sobs. The first time it happened, Raven tried to talk her through it, but Clarke was just so overwhelmed with the gravity of it all that no words could come out. As it happened more and more often, Raven took to just wrapping her arms around her and holding her close until she cried herself to sleep.
But the distance from Lexa, while painful, did provide Clarke the time and space she needed to heal from Wells' death. She no longer relived the accident as often as she had before, and was even able to begin talking to others about him. She felt the guilt wear off, slowly, but surely, until soon, recalling memories of Wells became a happy occurrence instead of a pain-stricken experience. She felt her mind healing even as her broken heart continued to ache.
About eight weeks after the breakup, she finally flew to Wells' hometown to visit his grave. She hadn't been able to bring herself to do that yet since the accident. She stayed there for hours, cleaning up the weeds that had grown around his tombstone, laying down bright flowers that matched his bright personality. She brought him a knight chess piece, his favorite piece, from the old chess board set they grew up playing with, and buried it in the dirt next to his tombstone. She talked to him about everything. She recounted happy childhood memories they shared together, and told him how his family was doing. She told him about the guilt she felt after his death. She told him about what happened with Lexa, how she lost the love of her life, and how she hoped Lexa would be able to find someone who could make her happy. She told him how, despite the short amount of time they spent together, Lexa had really liked him and how, if he got to spend more time with her, he would surely have love her as much as Clarke did. She told him she missed him, but promised to visit whenever she could.
And when she looked at the tombstone, with tears running down her face, and finally said, "I'm sorry," she felt the weight of his death lifted from her shoulders.
She slowly began to pick up her life after that, returning to sleep in her own apartment and rebuilding contacts that she had lost due to neglect after the accident. And if there was one good thing that came from her horrible ordeal, it was that she had painted many, many pieces of art that were powerful in their darkness and grief and rage. Which apparently, there was a good market these days. So she was able to remain busy showing her pieces to potential clients. The work kept her distracted and worked (most of the time) in preventing her from thinking about Lexa. And for that she was thankful.
She resumed regular outings with her close friends, ever more thankful for them for all they had done for her. She thought that they had been able to see that she was doing better and had stopped worrying about her. Apparently not, though. Because her friends knew her better than herself.
Octavia was the one to finally speak up. "Clarke, we're both really happy that you're doing better and working on promoting your art again. You've kept yourself so busy the past month. Just try not to overdo it too much. It's okay to take a break once in a while."
"I do take breaks. I'm here with you guys right now, aren't I?" Clarke smiled, to show that she was okay.
"Yeah, okay, Griffin. Thank you so much for taking time from your busy life to bless us with your presence," Raven quipped, rolling her eyes.
Both Clarke and Octavia laughed at that, breaking the light tension. Their drinks arrived and they ordered their food. Their conversation fell on lighter topics, including Octavia's new promotion (she will have an assistant!), the new nurse Bellamy just started dating (they all took bets on how long this one would last), and Jasper's plans to buy the café he was currently working at (they all agreed that would be a good thing – because of the free coffee they would get, forcefully or not). After they caught up on the lives of all of their friends, they fell into a comfortable silence, each sipping her coffee.
Raven fidgeted in her seat. She didn't know how to bring it up, but she knew she should. Even though she knew it would hurt her friend to hear anything that reminded her of . . . her. She deserved to know.
Lexa had grown to be good friends with all of Clarke's friends during the time they were together. And all of them loved Lexa as much as they did Clarke (and on some days, even more). How could they not? Raven thought it was probably impossible for anyone not to love Lexa, especially once they got to know her. Which was why their breakup was devastating to everyone. Not only because they knew how much the two of them loved each other, but because they knew that ultimately, they would not be able to remain close friends with both of them. Lexa had been so understanding of this. "Damn it, Lexa," Raven had said to her when Lexa asked her and Octavia out to lunch a week after the breakup to tell them that while she loved them both and saw them as friends outside of her relationship with Clarke, she understood the history of their friendship with Clarke and knew that they needed to be there for Clarke without feeling like they were torn between the two of them. Lexa suggested that they all reconnect once all of the initial rawness of the situation ebbs away.
Raven cleared her throat and began, tentatively, "So . . . I ran into Anya yesterday." She looked at Octavia, who nodded her support.
A small twitch of her shoulders was the only indication of how that information affected Clarke.
"Oh yeah? How is she doing? I haven't talked to her in a while," Clarke said. Raven could tell she was trying too hard to act nonchalant.
"She told me something I thought you should know."
Clarke looked up, interest and concern in her eyes. "What is it?"
"Lexa's moving away soon. Anya won't tell me where, but it sounds like she might be leaving the country. I think Anya said in three weeks."
There was a deep, palpable silence as Raven let her friend process this information.
"Oh."
Anya sat at the bar at the airport, taking a sip of her beer while glancing at her watch. Lexa's flight had been delayed an hour, so she decided to get a drink while waiting for her. It was a little early in the day, barely ten o'clock in the morning, but what else was she going to do?
She glanced at the game playing on the multiple screens in front of her. The teams playing didn't interest her. There was also no one around her who looked interesting enough to talk to (mainly because there were barely any people there).
So she let her thoughts drift, and when they drifted to her little sister, she felt excitement rising in her chest again. She was finally coming home after being away for so long. Anya had visited her multiple times since she'd moved, of course, but it was not the same as living in the same city with her. She was going to be back soon, and hopefully for good.
Her thoughts drifted back to the day Lexa told her she was leaving.
"Are you sure about this?" Anya asked, standing in the kitchen looking at Lexa who was sitting on the barstool on the other side of the counter from her.
"I am, Anya." Lexa nodded, confidently. "Thank you for letting me stay with you the past three months, and for everything you've done to help me get over . . . this. The worst part is over, I think. But I don't think I can really let go of everything if I stay here in this city, where everything reminds me of her. I can't go to any of the places we used to go to, I can't see any of our friends, I can't even listen to the radio stations here without old memories emerging. I need to go somewhere new, and start over there."
"But do you have to go all the way across the ocean?"
"It would be too easy to come back otherwise, Anya." Lexa looked at her older sister, willing her to understand.
"You said Gustus would be there, for half the year at least? So he can look after you if you needed something in a pinch?"
Lexa nodded. Her editor split his time with the publishing firm, half in the States, and half in London, where his family lived. "Yes, Gustus said I can write my book anywhere I wanted, but that because he would be in London so frequently, it would be a good place to go since he would be available if needed. His family is also there, and I could go to them if I need anything. He also offered to help me find a place to live and to help me plan my move. He said the firm would do anything to help me with my next book. They're very excited about the idea I pitched."
Anya walked around the counter that separated the two of them. She pulled Lexa into a hug.
"Okay, but I'm going to visit you so often that you're going to get sick of me." Anya nudged her chin onto Lexa's head. "And you have to remember, I don't care how attractive those British accents are, this is home, okay?"
Lexa allowed herself to melt into the hug. "Thank you for understanding, Anya."
When they finally pulled away from each other, Lexa stood up to walk to her room. She came out holding two objects in her hands.
"Can you do me a favor? Or rather, two favors, I guess?" she asked.
Anya eyed those items Lexa held in her hands – one large, one small – and nodded.
Lexa handed her the large item first, a large rectangular piece, completely wrapped in brown canvas paper.
"She painted this for me, back when we were dating. I . . . I didn't want to leave it behind at her place, because, well, she gave it to me. I thought it wouldn't be very nice if I didn't take it, if I let her think I didn't love it when she first gave it to me."
Anya knew what was under the wrapping. She also knew how much Lexa did love that painting.
"I don't want to take it with me. It won't help with the moving on thing. Can you . . . take it for me? Maybe give it to someone who would appreciate it and give it a good home? It's a beautiful piece. I hope it can give someone else the joy and comfort it once brought me."
"Okay. I can do that for you." Anya took the painting from Lexa and leaned it against the wall.
Lexa then fidgeted with the other item she brought out, the small square box she held in her hands. She trembled as she looked at it. Anya watched and waited until Lexa finally placed the box on the counter and pushed it towards Anya. She didn't say anything.
"What are you doing, Lexa?"
She didn't reply. Instead, she looked out the window.
Anya tried again. "Why are you giving this to me? What do you want me to do with this?"
She looked back and met Anya's eyes. Anya saw that sadness and a hint of anger in her sister's eyes.
"Whatever you want, Anya. Sell it or pawn it and use the money. Or throw it in the ocean if you want. Just don't tell me about it."
Anya sighed and nodded her agreement once more. She reached out and picked up the box. She didn't ask Lexa why she didn't do it herself. Because she knew the reason. She had been there when Lexa first saw the ring.
Anya had always known Lexa to be a secret romantic, but she had always imagined that she was a romantic in the way writers were – soulfully, wistfully, poetically. But as she let Lexa dragged her to jeweler after jeweler, looking at rings and pointing out how each did not capture exactly what she wanted to convey to Clarke, and as she watched Lexa's eyes light up, practically twinkling, and felt Lexa excitedly – and painfully – clutching her arm when she first saw this ring, Anya knew. She knew that Lexa was just as hopelessly and cheesily romantic as the rest of the love-struck saps in this world.
Anya smiled sadly at the memory and shook her head. These kids. She finished her beer and checked the screen. Lexa's flight had landed. She got up to make her way to the terminal.
As she walked, she noted that there were more people at the airport now. All of a sudden, she remembered.
Would she? She asked herself. She shook her head. No, she wouldn't. She's a full-grown adult now.
But that didn't stop her the last time you visited her in London, another part of her brain countered.
Anya could feel sweat begin to gather on her forehead as she glanced around her to note how many people would be around to witness this.
Before she could come up with an escape plan, she saw her, straight ahead, walking towards her with a rolling suitcase in one hand. Anya anxiously turned her head side to side, but there were crowds of people on both sides of her. She was trapped. Lexa then looked up and made eye contact. Her face split into a huge grin as she released her grip on the suitcase she was pulling.
Oh no. She's going to do it. She's really going to do it. She's doing it!
Now, another thing that not many people knew about Lexa was that underneath her calm, professional façade and air of elegance, there laid a secret, inner goofball. Yes, that was the word Anya was going to go with. Goofball.
Because she was going to do what she always did whenever she saw Anya again after a period of separation, whether it was coming home from college or picking her up in London, and Anya always hated it but could do nothing to stop it. She only ever did it to Anya, maybe because she knew how much it annoyed her, but it has become a sort of tradition for the two of them.
She was now running towards Anya, IN SLOW MOTION. Here she was, a grown-ass adult. Imitating a dramatic, slow-motion montage of two people meeting in an airport. Complete with ridiculous high-knee running, frantic, wild arm flailing, exaggerated shaking of her head and back and forth tossing of her long hair, and wide-open silent mouthing of "Aaaaaaaannnnnnnyyyyyyyyaaaaaaa. I looooovvvvveeee yooooouuu." ALL IN SLOW MOTION.
She was only about ten feet away, but Anya knew it would take her longer than necessary to reach her, and in the meantime, she was attracting the attention of all the people in their vicinity. And though it mortified Anya, the unexpected sight brought laughter to most of those who witnessed it. Anya could only stand there, shaking her head, waiting for this to end.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Lexa reached her. She threw herself on Anya with so much force that it pushed her back a step even as she wrapped her arms around her sister's waist. Lexa hugged her tightly and Anya couldn't help but smile into her head of hair.
"Welcome back, kid."
Author's Note:
Thanks for everyone's thoughtful comments to my previous chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed seeing a different side of Lexa. It was really fun to write. At least it ended lighter and happier than the previous chapters right? Happy New Year!
As always, I look forward to hearing from you guys. Have a good one!
