Lexa felt only a little self conscious returning to her room via the fire escape, but the alternative was asking Miller to unlock her own front door. She smirked as Clarke wolf-whistled (Lexa had always been jealous of people who could whistle) when she had climbed back out the bedroom window. A quick glance behind her proved that Clarke was definitely checking her out.
Climbing into her own bedroom, Lexa reflected on their strange relationship. She recalled the first time she had locked eyes with the blonde, those weeks ago in the stairwell. She had never been instantly captivated like that: her guard was immediately down, and from their first conversation she had felt comfortable enough to joke - and Lexa was not the joking type - about intimacy. And GODS, she hadn't had a...Dream...about a specific person since her teenage years.
There wasn't any question that Clarke had her own personal demons, but their small interactions made Lexa want to help. She had seen several of her father's cadets break under one pressure or another. She had seen permanently broken men and women, and she sensed that Clarke was not one of those. As Lexa pulled on a carefully thought out outfit for walking/lunching/movie-going, she decided that she wanted to get to know Clarke, no matter the difficult road ahead.
L.W.L.W L.W.
Lexa enjoyed lunch, and the movie was light hearted and well done. She and Clarke decided to take the long way back to their building to enjoy the sunshine. They kept the conversation mundane, and Lexa learned that Clarke enjoyed apples over oranges ("peeling an orange is just annoying"), her favorite color was pink ("really Clarke, pink?"), she could watch clouds all day ("Lexa, that is definitely more a sheep than a horse!"), and her favorite gift to receive was a cool pair of socks ("I will keep that in mind").
They had passed through a park and were walking in companionable silence when Lexa sensed Clarke pause for a beat. She quickly looked around for possible reasons and saw Clarke's gaze captured by a storefront. As Clarke nearly ran into a fellow pedestrian, Lexa studied her face and asked,
"Do you like art?" Clarke's head snapped toward her, blue eyes wide, before answering,
"Yes. When I was younger I either wanted to be an artist or a doctor. I haven't done anything but doodle in a long time, though." They were fully stopped now, and people flowed around them. Clarke half-shrugged her shoulders. "My reports in the Marine's used to be out of reg because I'd draw all over them. I got in trouble so I stopped." Lexa studied Clarke carefully before gently reaching for her hand. She felt an initial twitch that could have been Clarke automatically pulling back before warm fingers wrapped around hers. She tugged lightly and led Clarke into the store.
She knew she'd made the right decision when Clarke was immediately enthralled by supplies around them. Her eyes darted every which way as if she couldn't decide where to start. A clerk called out to them, which snapped Clarke out of her trance: she waved off the pimply-faced kid behind the counter and her face broke into the most genuine smile Lexa had seen. Lexa swore to try and get Clarke to smile like that more often.
Clarke then proceeded to lead Lexa around the store, only dropping her hand when she started giving Lexa things to hold. Lexa had no clue what most things were for - her final art class had been in 8th grade, when her pottery wheel had declared war - but Clarke's excitement was infectious, and she found herself smiling widely as her load got heavier and heavier. Eventually the clerk offered a space on the counter when Lexa's balancing act was becoming truly precarious.
After nearly an hour in the store, Lexa and Clarke left with arms laden with bags and boxes. Fortunately they were fairly close to their building and they'd left the biggest items at the store to be delivered later in the day. Lexa had been shocked at the cost of all the supplies (Clarke picked out a lot, but still), but her companion had waved it off.
They made it back to the lobby with no mishap, where Miller called out a greeting.
"Hey, Dave!" Clarke called back, to Lexa's shock. As they somehow fit themselves into the elevator, Lexa asked,
"Dave?" Clarke's brow furrowed.
"Dave Miller. Isn't that his name?" At Lexa's silence, she blinked. "How long have you lived here?" Lexa felt heat creep up her neck, but Clarke didn't comment further, and luckily the elevator arrived on their floor.
"When will the rest arrive?" Lexa asked, as Clarke began to take things out of their packaging reverently. She got the vague answer of 'after 4' before Clarke picked up a simple sketchbook and looked at her.
"Can I draw you?" Lexa was taken aback at the suddenness of the request, and Clarke rushed on, "I want to draw you, but you don't have to if you're not comfortable." Lexa looked at the hope in Clarke's eyes and couldn't refuse.
"Ok." Clarke's face lit up again, and Lexa felt a bloom of happiness within herself. "What should I do?" Clarke was looking through the pile of utensils, considering.
"Sit wherever you're comfortable." Lexa glanced around and decided to take a seat on a chair in the living room. Clarke came and sat on the couch, propping the sketchbook on her legs, tilting her head and running her eyes up and down Lexa.
"I've never done this before," Lexa admitted.
"You have amazing bone structure and are very proportionate." Lexa laughed.
"Thank you, I suppose."
"You're welcome. Now shush." Lexa was very good at sitting still- for the next hour the only sound between them was the scratch of Clarke's charcoal against the paper. Clarke would look up occasionally, focusing on certain parts of Lexa in turn. Lexa took the opportunity to study Clarke (she refused to call it leering). Clarke's eyebrows and lashes were a shade darker than her hair, which was hanging in natural waves around her face. She occasionally reached up with her hand to tuck it behind her ear. She had a slightly dimpled chin, and her nose was slightly off center but adorably cute. She had a beauty mark just above her lip on one side, and her bottom lip was fuller than her top. Lexa found herself staring longer than necessary at her lips and forced her eyes elsewhere.
She noted that Clarke was left-handed, and that when she was drawing she tapped out a rhythm with her right hand. She caught Clarke occasionally reaching up with her free hand to scratch at her upper arm and also rub at her thighs. Lexa was nearly caught in a frown (she had thought she saw something on Clarke's legs the night before, but it had been dark) before she schooled her features and moved her gaze back to study Clarke's expressive eyes. No wonder her initial impression of Clarke was that of a reader-Clarke was an artist, and her eyes were used to picking up on details that many would miss. Not to mention that they were a fantastic shade of blue, the kind that reminded Lexa of the infinite nature of the sky on a bluebird day.
And they were staring right back. Lexa jolted, embarrassed to be caught but still trying to contain her reaction. Clarke's eyes crinkled, and she knew she'd been unsuccessful.
"I'm done," Clarke said, and Lexa shifted in the chair, glancing down at the sketchbook.
"May I?" Clarke bit her lip and handed it over, and Lexa was floored. Clarke was very talented, capturing the smallest detail in amazing strokes. Lexa may not know anything about art, but the more she studied the sketch, the wider she felt herself smiling.
"I'm a little out of practice," Clarke muttered softly. Lexa felt a surge of affection as she noted Clarke nearly wringing her hands. Evidently, she'd been silent too long.
"This is very good for someone that is out of practice." Lexa smiled widely (she found herself smiling a lot more than was normal with Clarke) and opened her mouth to say more when they were interrupted by Miller calling about the arrival of the art delivery.
The rest of Lexa's afternoon was spent helping Clarke set up a corner of Raven's apartment into a studio space (Clarke kept insisting that Raven would be fine with all the furniture moving they did). They kept up their easy discussion from before as Clarke arranged her supplies just so. Lexa kept glancing at the drawing Clarke had done of her in amazement. Her interest in art was increased exponentially over the next few hours as Clarke spoke passionately about the subject.
They eventually ordered takeout for dinner and settled down into the couch, picking out a documentary to start. They moved onto Planet Earth and shared a blanket. As Lexa began to drift off, she reflected on the fact that she felt more relaxed than she had in years.
L.W.L.W.L.W.
The following morning, Lexa woke with her neck aching and her arm asleep. The day before coming back slowly, she realized that she was not in her bed and had, in fact, fallen asleep on the couch with Clarke. The other girl was still asleep, curled up at the opposite end of the couch. She looked younger than Lexa had ever seen her, worries smoothed away by slumber. Lexa's smile gave way to a grimace as she began to sit up and stretch. Turning her head, she startled when she realized that they were not alone in the room.
Raven stood a few feet from the couch, head tilted with smirk on her face as she spoke softly.
"Morning sleeping beauty." Lexa straightened her spine slowly, trying not to disturb Clarke.
"Hello, Raven. I did not know you would be back so early today." Raven crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Well, Griffin didn't answer my messages last night, so I decided to come back early to check. Clearly, she was under excellent care." Lexa refused to blush, but did duck her head in a nod. Raven's face became more serious, and her voice lowered, glancing at the still-sleeping blonde. "Thanks. I was worried."
"We had a pleasant day together yesterday." Lexa admitted. She decided not to go into the initial reason she'd spent all day with Clarke. Raven clearly cared a great deal about Clarke, but Lexa was a strong believer that if people needed help, they would ask for it. Everyone had their breaking point, and Clarke had the right to clue Raven in if she so desired.
"Good."
Raven's eyes moved to the newly created art nook, and she made her way towards it with interest. Lexa took the time to glance at Clarke who she noticed was awake. Lexa blinked as Clarke mouthed a 'thank you' before shutting her eyes again.
"You moved my shit around," Raven said emotionlessly. Lexa stood in worry.
"Clarke said you would not mind. If you want, I have a spare room that-" Raven waved her off and turned around, and Lexa saw that she was grinning mischievously.
"I'm kidding, Lexa. It's fine. More than fine, actually. I've seen some of Clarke's art from years ago and I'm glad she's decided to start again." To Lexa's surprise, Raven strolled over and gave her a hug.
"We picked most of it up on our walk back from the movie yesterday. Some of it had to be delivered, because we could not carry it all." Lexa felt her cheeks heat. She was not normally one to disclose unnecessary information, and was unsure why she was offering it now.
"The movies, huh?" Raven's eye acquired a devilish glint.
"Leave her alone, Reyes." Came a sleepy mumble from the couch. Lexa turned to see Clarke rubbing her eyes and stretching languidly. Here eyes were drawn to a bare patch of skin exposed when Clarke lifted her arms. She glanced quickly away, but Raven caught her looking and burst out laughing, but didn't comment. Clarke tilted her head in confusion, and Lexa took the opportunity to mutter a quick goodbye and fled the apartment.
