do you ever get the feeling like "oh it's the beginning of semester i've never been so chill oH MY FUCKING GOD THERE ARE SO MANY ASSIGNMENTS DUE IN AN HOUR HOLY FUCK MY LIFE" because yeah that's what i'm feeling right now

i'm gonna be swamped here on out and i wasn't sure if i will get the chance to update so i figured y'all deserve this one chapter before i bid myself into an update hibernation mode. i'll try to open up the word doc when i get the chance, but it's pretty slim to be honest, so you'll have to bear with this.

now, read, ponder, and enjoy!

"Your mom's hot!"

"That. Doesn't. Mean. You. Tell. Her. My. Shit!" Clarke pronounced each word with a pointed but gentle smack of the cushion against Raven's arm. She had elected to ignore her friend's declaration of how hot her mother was.

"Hey, cripple here!"

"Oh, I remember her saying that she'll break your other leg," Octavia pointed out from across the room, where she was perched at the bar in the kitchen, enjoying a tub of ice-cream and not seeming to care that one of her best friends was going to further cripple her other best friend.

Raven, having paused five seconds after hearing Octavia's nonchalant announcement, widened her eyes to comical size and staggered backwards towards the arm of the couch, somewhat gracefully toppling over and finding her footing despite the bum leg, and scrambled towards the bar to hide behind Octavia.

Clarke, who had a habit of using her career as an excuse to avoid the gym – look, according to her phone, her daily step count passed over 15,000, that should be enough – found a little difficulty in following the Latina, but she managed to do so anyway. She stood in front of Octavia, whom Raven was swaying around on the stool to avoid being in direct opposition with the blonde.

"Woman up and face me," Clarke sneered.

Raven shook her head resolutely. "I am not a woman," she declared.

"Oh, really? That's not what Bellamy tells –"

"No, stop!" Octavia shrieked, and Clarke suddenly found herself staring at an ice-cream slathered spoon very close to her face, almost crossing her eyes. "I do not want to know about how womanly my brother thinks Raven is." Her eyes went a little empty for a moment before she shuddered violently and swung around on her stool to face Raven. "Why does it have to be him?" she hissed. "Why'd you have to sleep with my brother? Why does it have to my brother? What even are you with my brother?"

Raven pondered those questions before she shrugged with an exaggeratedly innocent look on her face. "Your brother's hot. I like hot people. What I am with your brother is none of your business."

"Yes. Just like me and Lexa is none of my mother's business. You get it now!" Clarke interjected, finding a chance to slither around Octavia so there wasn't anything blocking them.

Raven sighed and nodded in acquiescence. "Look, I'm sorry. We were on the phone and it just slipped! You know how your mother is."

As a matter of fact, Clarke did. Clarke had spent a majority of her life living in the same house as that woman, and she knew exactly what kind of person her mother was. Octavia had found the woman scary and Raven had simply allowed herself to be coddled into the manipulative arms of Abby Griffin, thus surrendering herself as the unknowing spy into Clarke's life.

Abby Griffin was a concerning mother who really did care for her family, no doubt. Clarke could still remember the way she had shut herself off to the world after her husband had passed away, at the expense of the care that her daughter still needed. But Abby could also be demeaning and demanding and all-around selfish – Clarke didn't even want to delve into whether her mother did all that on purpose. There was this energy around her that made her irresistible in a sense; people found it difficult to lie to her, reject her, or do anything that was against her in any way – one wouldn't even think about pissing her off, because next thing they knew, their career had careened down the waterhole.

Clarke loved her mother – she truly did. But if she spent more than a day in the same room as the woman without the barest of space for air, she would either strangle herself or set the room on fire.

"I don't understand why you're still so pissed at her," Raven voiced out, settling on the stool next to Octavia and snatching the ice-cream, eliciting an undignified yelp from the shorter woman.

Narrowing her eyes, Clarke shook her head at the Latina and said, "You did not just say that."

"All I'm saying that she cares about you and she's really trying. The least you could do is give her a chance."

"Just because you're best friends with her doesn't mean I have to be."

Unnervingly calm about the jab, which was a testament to their close friendship, the engineer lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug as she handed the tub of ice-cream back to Octavia. "Abby's been more of a mom to me than my own since the moment I met her. I don't want to get in between you two. I just want to be your best friend and that girl Abby remembers to check up on."

Surely, those words were simply words and nothing was really implied by it except what Raven implied on the surface. And just like Raven did earlier, Clarke let it go by suppressing the brief appearance of the green-eyed-monster in her mind and shooting a mocking glare at the engineer.

"Stop spying on me for my mother."

"I'll try not to."

That was the best she could get from a running mouth like Raven Reyes, so she could only hope for the best and settle for what she could get.

When she saw Raven about to reach for Octavia's tub again and the absolutely animalistic glint in Octavia's eyes that indicated nothing nice, Clarke slapped away Raven's hand from the tub and rounded the bar for the fridge, where she pulled out two more tubs of ice-cream, which Raven had conveniently forgotten that they had purchased the day Lexa decided to drop by. She thrust one in Raven's direction before sitting on the last stool and opening up her own tub.

In the silence, as per the three women's tradition since that afternoon after they had sat for their last SAT paper, they shamelessly gouged on individual tubs of Ben & Jerry's, temporarily forgetting about the carb fest and their body weight for the day. Clarke had only just finished one-third of her tub when Octavia ruined it.

"So there's a you and Lexa, huh?"

Was it possible to kill someone by tossing a one-third empty ice-cream tub at someone's head?

If one were looking for adrenaline junkies in a hospital, they could either find them in the Intensive Care Unit or in the trauma department.

Every single trauma attending went in that day equipped with the anticipation of at least one bout of heart racing and sweat driven case; every single resident or intern assigned to the trauma department was all appropriately warned of exactly how messy it could get and how mean the attendings could be in the face of an emergency.

The ER could become very bloody very quickly, which was perhaps why the early pioneers of hospitals decided to install bays and curtains, if only to keep things as isolated as possible. On a bad day, the patients who came in would be diagnosed with simple things like appendicitis or needed their rectums cleared. On a good day, there would be bags of blood and desperate yells for assistance and incensed discussions of the best treatment in the shortest span of time.

Because that was what doctors who went into trauma truly wanted. They wanted to save lives, the more hectic the better, in a limited timeframe that would require to literally squeeze all their brain juice out for the most creative treatment methods that wouldn't compromise the patients' lives.

It sounded crazy. It certainly sounded cruel.

The thing was that the doctors swore the Hippocratic Oath – and what better way to make good on that oath than the kind of patients that they had to face in the ER.

Clarke had just come out of the waiting room to tell a husband that his wife was safe and being transported to a room for overnight monitoring right now. She didn't tell him about how his wife went into V-Fib for thirty seconds in the ER, which was why they had to perform emergency surgery on her. A surgery in which she had to work with Finn Collins, of all people, to get her heart working again, prevent her from losing another two pints of blood, and remove the scalpel that she had accidentally swallowed from her trachea. She didn't tell him about the way she had sat on a random chair in the OR for another thirty seconds after the surgery was successful, catatonic and blank, and then she had to laugh at herself at the complete bizarreness of being part of the trauma department.

The guy almost lost his wife. He didn't need to know about the ordeal the woman had to go through to survive another day and see him again. He certainly did not need to know how much his wife's doctor laughed maniacally at yet another random surgery that required the kind of precision that, sometimes, only a trauma doctor could afford.

She had just swapped her bloody scrubs for a fresh set and was on her way to get a piping hot sugary coffee to celebrate another win on this night when the bane of her existence sidled up next to her. Honestly, she couldn't even celebrate right without feeling even the slightest bit of annoyance; she suspected her mother must have placed some sort of voodoo on her or something, trying to wear her down to actually see the moron to be what he wasn't.

"That was great, huh?" Finn commented, slapping his hands together enthusiastically and disturbing the hallways that had gone quiet for the after-midnight rounds.

"Yep."

"This is the first time I've ever worked with you."

"Hopefully, the last time," she replied unironically, coming to a stop in front of the elevators and pressing the 'down' button.

"Well, I don't."

She hummed in response, forcing herself to remain calm and not allow his presence to stifle her celebratory mood. Trying her luck, she turned around slightly to locate the nurses' station, but nope. Octavia had already left.

A ding alerted her to an elevator car's arrival and she quickly stepped into it, silently groaning when Finn joined her.

"Let me buy you coffee."

"I can afford my own coffee."

"Come on, to celebrate our win."

She turned sideways to look at him with a pair of narrowed eyes and stern lips, to which he appropriately froze at. "You almost tore a hole in the patient's left lung because you wrongfully located the scalpel. You mistook your own scalpel as the scalpel in the patient's body," she snapped, finding gratification in his whitening features, which she didn't even think was possible. "This is not our win. It's my win. And come morning, when Dr. Kane comes in, you can be sure that I'll report your pathetic ass to him."

"Clarke –"

"It's Dr. Griffin," she promptly corrected him, making a small noise of victory when the elevator reached her intended floor and the doors slid open. "And stop talking to my mother!" she yelled over her shoulder as she quickly walked away from him, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"Clarke, please." Finn quickly found his way over to her once she stopped by the coffee cart, holding onto her elbow. "Please don't do this."

"You're a hazard to this hospital and our patients," she commented coldly, fishing out her phone that had just buzzed in her pocket.

Lexa (1:02a.m.): This Avicenna statue is really uncanny.

She frowned, tuning out Finn and trying to figure out what the text was supposed to mean. She groaned and snapped her eyes up from her phone to meet Finn's dull brown eyes with a glare when he had tugged on her forearm a little too roughly. He let it go sheepishly, but evidently, it wasn't enough to stop him from pathetically begging her.

And then through Finn's whines and complaints and the occasional tunes on the hospital's intercom system, it finally got through her head. There was only one Avicenna statue she knew of – and it had been the one to fascinate her and cause her to shake her head in amusement when she had first seen it outside the hospital all those months ago.

Forgoing the coffee cart because who needed coffee when there was a better pick-me-up waiting for her outside, she easily sidestepped Finn's increasingly frustrating clinging to her side and made for the exit. Once she was outside, she had to send a brief moment of appreciation to herself from fifteen minutes ago to have the decency of pulling on her coat over her scrubs, because it was actually pretty cold outside.

Her feet found the familiar path to the aforementioned Avicenna located just several hundred yards south of the entrance, in the middle of a mini maze that was meant to entertain the children. Soon enough, Clarke found herself looking at Lexa from the back, and the hulking bodyguard was smoking several feet away, keeping a good distance to keep the smoke away from the princess but also close enough to keep his eye on her.

She could barely respond to him noticing her when she found herself barreled into from the back, sending her tumbling forward and barely finding her footing before a pair of slender but definitely strong arms caught her. She panted slightly and took a few seconds to recover from the vertigo attack before looking up to find Lexa staring at her with concern, still holding onto her waist with no sign of letting at all.

Clarke gulped and tried not to squeeze the biceps under her fingers as she stood upright and smiled sheepishly at the princess, to which Lexa only responded with a raise of her brow and a curious look in her eyes. Somehow, for no reason at all, that look made her all the more attractive to the doctor.

"Clarke, please." Right, the culprit of her current awkward situation.

Lexa's eyes shifted over her shoulder, curiosity increasing but also wary at the same time. "Who's that?" she asked, low enough that only Clarke could hear.

Shooting the brunette a reassuring smile, the doctor spun around and out of the comforting grip of Lexa's hands on her hips to face the bumbling idiot still following her. Her words died on her lips as she saw that his focus was not on her but the woman standing behind her, mouth ajar and eyes lighting up in recognition. She reached behind her blindly, and thankfully enough, Lexa got the hint to take her hand and squeezed her fingers.

"Finn," she snapped, calling back his attention. His eyes traveled from the princess to her, still shocked but clearly, he wasn't stupid enough to not see what exactly was happening. "Leave me alone."

He blinked a few times, looking at Lexa and Clarke then Lexa then Clarke again. And then he stood up straighter, closing his mouth, and his terrified and awed expression slowly transformed into one of smugness and pure slyness.

Just judging by that rat face of his, the blonde could already see what was coming next, and she'd be lying if she said her heart had not jumped several erratic beats at the implication. The only thing that tied her back down and offered her even a smidge of relief was the squeeze on her fingers, the reminder that Lexa was still holding on to her hand.

"So you're fucking the princess," Finn drawled.

And just like that, Lexa's stiffness could be felt right down to her fingertips and this time, Clarke had to be the one to do the squeezing as she stared Finn down with enough determination and flare to burn down just about anyone in her path. She clenched her jaw and tilted her head at the hazardous doctor, not even bothering to grace him with a reply.

He wasn't worth it. If she was going to explain her odd relationship with Lexa to anyone, it would be to someone worth even an ounce of her respect. And Finn Collins just wasn't it.

"I know a reporter at Polis Sentinel."

Clarke narrowed her eyes. "Are you blackmailing me?"

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking at them. "I mean, I won't object to being a part of this party." At that, he shamelessly let his eyes wander over Clarke's body, sending a bout of disgusted shivers through her nerves, before doing the same to the seething princess behind her, approving and creepy all the same.

Before the blonde could retort, Lexa had already loosened her fingers around Clarke's hand and suddenly, Clarke found herself standing behind the princess, whom had her posture set in one that was determined to protect Clarke – arm outstretched and back so tall that Clarke almost couldn't see Finn over her shoulder.

For a few long moments, they just stood there, Lexa in front of Clarke and Finn still very reassured where he was and Gustus having already stamped out his cigarette and looking ready to land a punch or two if he had to. And then something unexpected happen.

Lexa chuckled. As if they hadn't just been blackmailed with something that they had never done, though the media would never just take their word for it. As if her life wasn't just about to be catapulted to levels so high that it would be enough to cause permanent damage the moment she fell. As if her inane protectiveness over Clarke hadn't just given Finn the confirmation he needed. As if she didn't see Finn whip out his phone to not so subtly take a photo of her and Clarke together.

"There's nothing else the press can do to me that would be worse than what they had done last time," Lexa started.

Clarke had never heard this voice in such close vicinity before; cold and unbearably icy, as if the princess was prepared for war and removed all her humanity in order to confront the terribleness stretching out before her.

"And may I just remind you, I am the Second Princess of the Polis Kingdom. My father is the sole monarch of this country, King Richmond the Second, Chief Commander of the military forces and headof the Parliament and Congress. My mother is Queen Storme the First, the sole heir of the mayor of Trikru and the commander of three naval shipyards throughout the country. If you speak a word of my appearance here or my friendship with Clarke to anyone, keep in mind that I have all the power I need in this country to strip you down, tear you up, and split you and your useless existence into pieces of nothing. My family might not deign to resort to authoritarian methods in all the years of its rule over this country, but do not underestimate the loyalty they have for family," Lexa threatened, breathing heavily with each syllable that did not fail in pronouncing the power she held simply by being born into the right family of the right country.

Clarke found satisfaction in the way Finn's skin paled again at the threats that she was certain were substantive and Lexa wouldn't hesitated to execute. As she listened to Lexa's voice slowly but surely spell out exactly how she could ruin Finn's life, she couldn't deny that it was all kinds of hots and doing all kinds of indescribable things to her. She had never imagined that fear could be such an effective aphrodisiac, but here they were.

"Now, I'm not sure what exactly you're begging Clarke for, but I am certain you deserve it. Whatever she's going to do, I won't stop her. But here's the thing: it's far better than what I am going to do to you if you so much as touch a hair on the good doctor here. I advise you to scram and take what you can get, Finn Collins," Lexa added as a measure of ensuring Finn knew that she knew his name now, and he better be careful.

The man in question stood frozen where he was, quiet and meek. If Clarke had strained to listen, she would be hearing him whimpering and almost peeing himself at the intimidating stare that Lexa must be sending him. For a second, she almost felt sympathetic, because she had seen that look on Lexa's face before, way back when they hadn't known each other and the princess had just woken up in a strange bed in a strange room with a strange woman in a coat in the same strange room as her.

Lexa huffed when Finn had stood there for too long. "What did I just say?" she snapped.

In mere seconds, Finn was gone from the middle of the makeshift maze, leaving Lexa and Clarke and Gustus and Avicenna alone, practically stirring up escape smoke at his trail.

It was only when she inhaled and could no longer inhale the stifling air of self-righteous white male stench that Clarke allowed the relief to enter her system. She stumbled back a little and leaned against Avicenna, hoping that the heroic figure who had brought many advances to her field of work would forgive her for this temporary move of disrespect. She just needed to breathe.

She hadn't realized how anxious she had gotten at Finn's threatening words, so much so that she couldn't even properly react but stare blankly when Lexa had swapped their positions. Right now, it all came rushing to her, triggering her fingers to tremble almost violently and sweat to gather at the back of her neck and her breathing to stagger as she respirated.

When she finally looked up from her sneakers after having managed to get her fingers to stabilize, Lexa had already turned around to look at her, hands buried in her hoodie pockets and an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Clarke frowned. "For what?"

Lexa raised her brows, shrugged, and gestured over her shoulder. "If you hadn't known me, if I hadn't come here…" she drifted off, allowing Clarke to fill in the blanks herself. I put you at risk, was the basics of her implication.

"You didn't do this."

"Come on, Clarke –"

"No, you come on!" Clarke exclaimed, pushing off the statue to come to her full height. "Finn's a pathetic asshole! He's nothing but a pain in my ass. He would have found something else to blackmail me with. If it wasn't for you being here, I probably would have agreed to whatever he demanded."

"But it's me. I'm the reason he blackmailed you just now. Our friendship is the reason I had to use my family name to scare him off."

"God, Lexa, what did I tell you?" Clarke snapped, glaring at the brunette in front of her. Lexa looked down at her feet, sheepish and still guilty. "You can't scare me off that easily," she reminded the princess.

Between the two of them, Clarke was panting from exertion and the excitement of the night, while Lexa was shuffling her feet and getting ahold of her own guilt. Meanwhile, Gustus was probably just enjoying the show or maybe hating on Clarke for even daring to be this bold with his charge.

And honestly, the blonde was actually quite surprised at her own determination to retain…whatever this was she had with one of the most important people in this country – one whose life and death could cause ripples and instigate tsunamis with simply a few words and a meaningful stare. Clarke would know; god only knew how many tsunamis the brunette had set off in her chest by just staring at her with those starkly green eyes of hers.

Normally, she would have just given up. Nothing was worth this much trouble – or, at least, that was what she used to think.

But apparently, a few hours of light-hearted and unmeaningful conversation in a military hospital and a random note scribbled on a decaying paper were enough to keep her tethered. So much so that not even six months of silence would keep her away.

Then Lexa nodded in acquiescence and lifted her head to meet Clarke's eyes, to which Clarke inclined her head in response.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Clarke asked.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm gonna be seeing Dr. Terran again."

"You had a session with Niylah?"

"Yeah, this afternoon."

Clarke's frowning mouth stretched into a gratified grin at the revelation, and she couldn't help but step forward to engulf Lexa in a hug. The brunette's arms flapped around for awhile, obviously unsettled by the sudden intimacy, but eventually, she hugged Clarke back as well.

And god, the doctor didn't want to let go. She never wanted to let go.

Back when she was ten years old, her family was still whole. Jake Griffin used to take her on plane rides on his shoulders every night, because apparently, she was a child who refused to sleep until she got a plane ride. So he would secure her tiny figure on his shoulders and started racing through the rooms downstairs – the kitchen, the dining room, the guest bathroom, the foyer, and the living room. There were always two rounds, and sometimes even more if he felt like it. Then he would race her up the stairs to her room, followed by her mother who still had warmth in her heart.

Then before they left the room and shut the lights, they would both pull her into a tight hug, whispering gentle good nights into her ears.

This felt a little – too much – like that.

But reality had to set in. Last time, it was in the form of her parents kissing her temples and shutting off the lights and turning on the night light. This time, it came in the form of her pager buzzing on her pants, jerking them both apart. She momentarily cursed her job for breaking her moment.

She shot Lexa a regretful stare, to which the princess only nodded in assurance and jerked her chin towards the entry point where she came from.

"Let your bodyguard sleep," Clarke said, nodding in Gustus' direction.

"I'm planning to. I just wanted to let you know."

Clarke's grin gentled into a small smile. She reached out to squeeze Lexa's elbow before heading towards the entry point. Before she disappeared out of view, she spun around to face Lexa, fast enough to catch the wistful glint on her expression before the brunette quickly wiped it away.

"That was hot by the way – the way you threatened him."

Lexa blinked a few times, and then she – the damn woman – dared to smirk. She tilted her head and shifted her weight to the other foot. "Yeah?"

Clarke wanted to just get onto her knees right there and plead Lexa to do ungodly things to her. But instead, she settled for a gentle and meek "Yeah" before escaping the piercing hot stare that only Lexa could manage to do, sending a totally different kind of shivers down Clarke's spine, which lingered long after she had finished her shift five hours later.

"You know, when you said you referred a patient to me, never in my wildest dreams had I thought it'd be the fucking princess."

Clarke looked up from the newspaper – oh, reading the newspaper, she'd missed doing that – and Niylah sitting down in the other empty chair at the table with her own paper cup of coffee. She allowed herself a momentary mourning for another delayed reading of yesterday's news and folded the newspaper, dedicating all her attention to her friend.

"Tell me you didn't scare her off," Clarke decried.

Niylah gasped and dropped her jaw. "What do you mean scare her off? You're lucky I didn't just run out and abandon my practice right there."

Clarke scoffed, lifting her own cup of mocha to her lips. "The Niylah I know isn't such a scaredy cat." Niylah wrinkled her nose in skepticism but didn't offer another word. "Your first session was yesterday, right?" Niylah nodded in affirmation. "How was she?"

"You know I can't –"

"No, I know about the whole doctor-patient confidentiality clause, Niylah. I'm a doctor myself," Clarke reminded the psychologist, emphasizing her point by waving her hand over her body. "I just meant if she's coming back." Clarke would have asked Lexa herself this morning, but she had been a little too aroused by the princess' act of intimidation and much too proud of Lexa for keeping her promise that she had forgotten.

"She is."

"Good."

"So how exactly did you become friends with the second daughter of the Royal Family, huh?" Niylah questioned, eyes bright with curiosity and entire body leaning forward as if they were sharing the biggest secrets of all time – though that wasn't entirely untrue; her friendship with Lexa right now was the biggest secret she had ever had to harbor, but it didn't feel as much like a burden as all the other secrets she had to hide.

The doctor sighed and didn't even try to pretend that she wasn't going to tell Niylah. The woman was a psychologist – there was no better secret keeper than her. Plus, their history together was enough to reassure Clarke that there was nothing to fear from Niylah.

She launched into the story how she met Lexa in the military hospital in Libya, describing the torrent of emotions she had felt between the ten minutes from seeing the princess on her table for the first time to the moment she decided to kick out staff who would be too nervous to properly function in the operating theatre. What she didn't tell Niylah was how mindbogglingly stunning she had found Lexa once they had cleaned the blood and dirt off the woman or how mind-bendingly different Lexa was from the way the press had portrayed her or how magnetized she had felt towards the then-soldier within thirty minutes of talking to her.

Those were not for anyone to know. Those were for her; beautiful memories retained in her hippocampus regardless of what could happen tomorrow or the day after tomorrow or many days in the future to her and Lexa. No one had the right to them. No one deserved to get even a trailer of those of memories, not even Lexa, and certainly not Niylah, regardless of their history.

Niylah showed the appropriate responses to her story, from gob smacked to impressed. In the end, all she could say was that of all the people to have this encounter, she wasn't surprised that it was Clarke Griffin.

"In your professional opinion," Clarke began and smiled when Niylah hummed in that exaggeratedly wise tone of hers, "what does it mean when someone shows up at your place of work in the middle of the night just to tell you that they did something they thought you'd be proud of?"

There was a blank expression on the psychologist's face at first, but it eventually shifted into one of knowingness. Nothing really did skip the keen eye of Dr. Niylah Terran; it was how she became such a popular psychologist within the region and managed to charge such high fees without receiving any complaints.

Still, keen eye aside, Niylah was kind enough not to call Clarke out on this not so subtle revelation. And the doctor also knew she could trust Niylah with this one little secret as well.

"I think it means that you are very important to them. Perhaps one of the most important, if not the most."

Clarke hummed, unable to help the little smile twisting the corner of her lips as she thought about the short time she spent in the makeshift maze outside the hospital with Avicenna as witness not even twelve hours ago. She nodded in acceptance of Niylah's succinct answer and felt a little lighter when she downed her cup of mocha.

Clarke (3:42p.m.): u cldve just textd ya know

Lexa (3:56p.m.): I could have.

Clarke (3:57p.m.): but u didnt

Lexa (4:02p.m.): I didn't.

Clarke (4:06p.m.): im glad u came to the hospital

Lexa (4:06p.m.): Of course you were. You thought it was hot.

Clarke (4:06p.m.): im nvr talking to u ever again

yes, clarke has horrendous text speak, but she's a doctor, she's too busy for grammar and correct spelling. she turned off autocorrect because she hates it. also, that's not the end you'll see of finn, unfortunately.