One thing Clarke found out about Octavia after living with her for a week was that she could be extremely convincing. She didn't even realize she agreed to go to the gym with her until she felt herself being dragged out of their building.

"Why can't you just go by yourself? I was planning on finishing my sketch tonight for class." Clarke had a gym bag slung across her shoulders, bumping into her hip with each step. She decided to change when she got there and opted for leaving in a jean jacket and sweatpants.

"I need you to make me look good in front of Lincoln. Just check out these leggings, they make my ass look incredible." Octavia walked ahead and swayed her hips with a smirk on her face.

As much as Clarke regretted neglecting her schoolwork, Octavia had a point; her ass did look fantastic in those. She didn't know for sure, but Clarke didn't think her roommate owned any gym attire before the semester begun.

"And how exactly am I supposed to make you look good? He already seems interested so you need to relax." Clarke was starting to regret letting herself be persuaded by the girl. The two of them were walking beside each other making their way through campus walk toward the fitness center.

"Just pretend you don't know how to use the machines, and I'll teach you. I can be like a personal instructor or something, just go with it." Octavia was talking really fast and made it obvious that she had no idea what she was doing.

To be honest Clarke hadn't worked out in almost a year. She had been focusing on her grades leaving high school, and helping Abby with their move from Arizona to Pennsylvania. Running was something Clarke did pretty often, she had taken up cross-country early on in her life and it soon became her favourite form of cardio.

"You're honestly trying way too hard Octavia. I saw the way he was looking at you in The Ab, just be yourself." The sinking feeling in her gut became increasingly more noticeable each time she talked about her roommate's love life. As happy as she is for Octavia, she can't bring herself to push away the lingering loneliness she felt herself.

"I just…I don't want to mess this up you know? I really like him."

Clarke thought she was finished with what she was saying when she spoke again, "Have you ever just looked at someone, and just knew. Like you know they're going to either ruin your life or be the best thing to have ever happened to you?"

That struck something inside Clarke's mind and then she saw an image of Finn creep into her thoughts. They were in love, or at least Clarke was. She couldn't remember the last time she was as happy as she was when they were together. Then he ruined everything, a seemingly innocent crush turned into a year and a half worth of lies. Clarke knew high school relationships weren't destined to last but at the time it felt real, and it was a slap to the face to find out he had been cheating on her the whole time.

The thought of him made her realize he was neither the best nor worst thing to have happened to her, he was just there. It was easy and made her feel something, but Clarke would never give him that importance in her life.

Clarke didn't know if Octavia was expecting a response but the blonde kept on walking with her gaze fixed ahead and quietly spoke, "Sometimes the people who ruin you turn out being the best thing that's ever happened to you."

Octavia pursed her lips and hummed in understanding. They continued to walk down the path in a comfortable silence, Clarke was unaware her hands were brushing against Octavia's. The dark haired girl noticed that the blonde appeared to be mulling over something, and moved her hand to her bag strap.

"You okay? You look a little stuck in your head." Octavia started to feel a little awkward after a couple minutes.

Clarke stiffened slightly at the question, "Yeah, I'm fine O. It's just that I'm already stressed with classes." Clarke wasn't in the habit of lying, but that was probably the easier option for her, rather than explaining what she was actually thinking about.

That seemed to be good enough for Octavia because she just nodded and Clarke was thankful. She admired her roommate's directness, they've barely known each other for two weeks and Clarke already knows her better than Octavia knows her.

If she was being honest with herself, Clarke couldn't stop replaying the scene that played out between her and the girl with green eyes at the bar. She finds it pretty pathetic that she doesn't even know her name and yet her mind always seems to drift back to high cheekbones and pink lips.

"You don't know anything about me."

The more Clarke thinks about what the girl said, the more she feels like it sounded something similar to a threat. It wasn't obvious but Clarke could sense that it was a warning with her cold stare, the bite in her voice made Clarke wince at the harshness.

She felt rather stupid about the whole thing, really. Usually being talked to so harshly and out of nowhere would've pissed her off in any other circumstance, so what made this any different?

The anger she felt in that moment subsided when their argument ended, leaving the blonde feeling drained from the guilt that started to grow. Clarke has never caused self-inflicted harm to herself because she's never truly been able to understand how much pain it takes to go that far.

Clarke had always appreciated the beauty of the human body with all it's imperfections, and art made her grow to love the things she had learned to hate.

But the thought of finding emotional release through scarring yourself, Clarke couldn't fathom. It made her palms sweat to think about, her throat starting to close whenever she imagined silvery marks running on delicate skin below.

She had to internally cringe at how genuinely confused she was at everything at this point. The feeling of being so enraptured by a complete stranger was beginning to make her lose control of her thoughts.

Whenever Clarke probed her mind absentmindedly, the green eyes she saw behind her eyelids made her stomach drop, it almost felt like falling.

This was the first time in Clarke's life that she felt herself being pushed away and pulled in at the same time, she didn't understand it but it only intrigued her more.

She felt an uncomfortable heaviness in her chest but Clarke was honestly getting tired of thinking about a person who couldn't care less about her existence. All she knew was that she needed to clear her head. The gym didn't sound like the worst idea anymore.


Octavia pretty much ditched Clarke when she came into view of Lincoln by the weights. The whole personal trainer idea seemed to be off the table, and Clarke was slightly relieved she could save some of her dignity.

She figured she was emotional support for her friend but also watching Octavia's face flush after ten minutes on the elliptical was already worth it. The sound of weights being dropped on the floor and animalistic grunting echoed throughout the room, while the top 40 blared from the speakers.

Clarke had just walked into the gym and she immediately caught sight of Octavia who was struggling to catch her breath. She made eye contact with Clarke and regained some of her composure, suddenly a lot more energetic in her strides. The blonde tried to keep herself from laughing but it was futile when she saw Octavia trying to control her breathing, which looked more like wheezing than anything else.

It was a huge room, the walls lined with mirrors, the treadmills were at the very back, and all the cardio machines on the right side, and the left side had the weights. Clarke had her phone in one and held a water bottle in the other as she walked towards the back of the room, and couldn't help feeling a bit self-conscious.

Clarke picked a treadmill in the middle and set down her bottle of water in the cup holder, getting in some stretches before she started. She put in her earphones and stood on the track of the machine, adjusting her settings for a 35-minute jog. She wanted to take it easy considering how long it's been since she last run. The only thing she didn't like was the placement of the treadmill because it faced the rest of the gym, instead of the window behind.

The track's speed began to increase and Clarke soon found her pace at a light jog. She tried to ignore her early shortness of breath and distracted herself by taking a look around the room. She looked to the left side of the room where she saw Octavia on the mats with Lincoln doing push ups.

That's a little more impressive.

They moved to rest on their forearms in a planking position and had playful grins plastered on their faces. If Clarke had not known either of them, she would have probably thought they were together.

Watching the concentration in people's faces in the mirror was kind of creepy but Clarke didn't really have much of a choice in her view. She looked to the other side, the much louder part of the gym, where people were using free weights and the benches.

The majority of people near the weights were guys, but there were some girls scattered around. Clarke moved her head a little more to the right where the bars for deadlifts and squats were; there was a guy and a girl to the right of him.

She wasn't quite sure why she started observing their movement, but she didn't need to be a pro to see how terrible the guy's form was. His knees were bending over his feet, and his back was so curved it hurt just to look at. Clarke was not an expert at squats, but she did them a lot for her high school fitness courses, so she knew the basics.

Clarke paused her mental criticisms to slow her pace down and brought her lips to her water bottle, alleviating the discomfort of a dry mouth. Her legs were getting pretty sore around her knees but she only had 13 minutes left. She looked back to where the guy was and saw him set the bar back up.

She turned her head to watch the female beside him, and damn. Her form was pretty perfect from what Clarke could see, and it was evident she knew exactly what she was doing.

And they say girls can't lift.

She wore fingerless gloves with a skintight long sleeve top and very tight yoga pants, Clarke was in awe by how toned she was. There were two plates on each side of the bar, not appearing to struggle at all with each lift. She was carefully watching her posture in the mirror, keeping her head straight in line with her shoulders.

Okay so Clarke was looking at a little more than the form, because how do you even get an ass like that? She didn't even think thighs could be that muscular, but there she was making squatting two plates look like easy.

Clarke felt her mouth dry at the sight as she dropped her gaze from the woman's perfectly sculpted legs, and brought her bottle to her lips. She was so distracted by the woman's "form" that the background slowly turned into static noise.

The girl had straight hair that was pulled back in a tight ponytail with a black baseball cap covering her eyes.

Wait. She's seen that hat before, that or either Clarke thinks she has officially lost it.

She was about to swallow a mouthful of water when she looked at the reflection of the woman and saw a pair of eyes glaring back. Clarke started choking on the water she was struggling to get down her throat and had to get on the side rails of the treadmill before she fell.

Oh god of course it's her.

She felt eyes burning a hole in the side of her head, but Clarke was still trying to catch her breath and lowered her gaze. That seemed to be a good enough run for Clarke, stopping the treadmill with a meager 8 minutes remaining.

Apparently Lincoln and Octavia weren't the only ones who saw Clarke choke and almost fall off the treadmill, but they were the only ones walking towards her. She mentally scolded herself for almost falling on her face on the first day she decided to work out, definitely not being the first impression she wanted to make.

"I felt bad for laughing, but in my defense it looked funny from where we were." Octavia didn't even try to hide the shit-eating grin she had on the walk over.

"Did you miss a step or something?" She hadn't spent much time with Lincoln but Clarke was glad to hear the concern in his voice.

"Uh, yeah… something like that." She cleared her voice, trying to direct the attention away from her shortness of breath.

"I haven't seen you this flustered before Griffin." Octavia's grin was replaced with a blank expression after sensing her friend's uneasiness.

Clarke couldn't have picked a worse time to shift her gaze from Octavia's, back to the source of her nerves.

Why am I even nervous? This is ridiculous.

The girl had moved from the squatting bench and had moved, putting plates on to the bench-press bar. Octavia followed Clarke's gaze and saw the girl by the weights. She looked back over to Clarke and noticed her roommate wasn't even trying to hide her stare.

The girl had slid under the bar and adjusted her grip on the handles before lifting it off the stand and above her chest in one swift motion. It barely grazed her torso before she lifted it back up in the air with ease. Her lips were pressed together with a furrowed brow, blowing out a breath after each lift. The movements were getting slower and Clarke was trying to focus on the bar and not the skin near her hips from her shirt riding up.

"Earth to Clarke," There was a hand snapping in her face and she scrunched her face at the proximity, "You're staring at that girl." It sounded more like a statement than a question and that's what got Clarke's attention.

"No I'm not, I mean I am but only because she's better than like half the guys here." Clarke stumbled over her words, she wasn't being completely dishonest.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" Lincoln asked, it seemed like a fairly easy solution but Clarke didn't feel like it was the right place for that conversation.

"She's… kind of intense." It's true, but only Clarke knew that.

"How do you know that if you've never talked to her?" Octavia looked at you with a skeptical face.

"Remember that girl I ran into in the hallway last week after class?" Clarke saw her roommates eyebrows raise after a beat.

"That's her isn't it?" Octavia had to look back at the girl they were referring to, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean."

Clarke just gave her a silent nod and began to worry her lips. Octavia breathed out a sigh at the look of uncertainty the blonde had, "Sometimes you need to take your own advice Griffin, I thought you were the ballsy one."

That seemed to have hit a nerve because Clarke began nodding to herself, silently contemplating her friend's words.

The three of them casually glanced over where they last saw her and all they saw was an empty bench-press station. Clarke looked back at the pair and tried to look unaffected, letting air escape past her lips, relieved at the absence of her anxiety.

Octavia just twitched the side of her mouth to the side indifferently and offered a shrug of her shoulders, "I've only seen the chick in oversized clothing, but she's actually pretty hot."

"She squats better than me… that's wifey material." Lincoln remarked.

Octavia threw the broad shouldered man beside her an unimpressed look, but Clarke caught the way her eyes lowered and glazed over slightly.

"I…. have to go, I'll meet you back at the room," she told Octavia while picking up her stuff off the treadmill, "And get her back safe." Clarke gave Lincoln a small smile and walked away.


She didn't exactly know what she was doing, but Clarke knew she couldn't leave without a shower. Getting sweaty wasn't an issue for her before but she reminds herself it's been a while.

Something inside of her wants to talk to that girl again. Clarke reprimanded herself enough for pushing too much the last time, so the least she could do is apologize. She wasn't sure if it was closure she wanted, or to just get the chance to hear her voice again.

The dry-fit shirt Clarke had been wearing, stuck to her skin uncomfortably, and made her speed up her walk to the change room. She pushed through the door and was welcomed by the sounds of conversation, and locker doors being slammed shut. While making her way to where her locker was, Clarke found herself searching for familiar green eyes.

She got to her locker and deflated, Clarke didn't really know what she was expecting. With an underlying annoyance at herself, she grabbed a towel from inside the locker and started taking off the damp clothing. She took a quick look around and saw that no one was around before stripping off her undergarments, wrapping herself in the towel.

Clarke hated the feeling of walking on cold and soggy tiles, careful to avoid stepping on the wet strands of hair littered on the floor. The showers weren't that bad, at least there were curtains for each one. There were a few other people using the public facility, their feet visible from underneath the shower curtains. Clarke was really looking forward to the warm embrace of a shower, hoping it would relieve the dull ache she felt in her muscles.

She stepped in the small space and lowered her towel looking around in confusion for somewhere she could put it. There weren't any hooks by the front of the curtains, which Clarke thought was pretty stupid. There was a ledge on the side that separated her shower from the one beside hers, so she lightly threw it over without a second thought.

Clarke felt a chill as soon as she took the towel off and quickly turned the knob in front of her, lining up the arrow near the red side. She welcomed the warm water that came rushing out, and stood underneath the showerhead enjoying how it felt. She began to lather shampoo into her scalp, before rinsing it out and moving to use some body wash.

She had her eyes closed under the showerhead, water moving against her face and failed to notice her poorly thrown towel falling slowly over to the other side. It wasn't until Clarke was finishing up that she saw her towel slip from the edge of the tiled walls and into the other shower stall.

"Shit!" Of course something like that would happen to Clarke on the first day she decides to go to the gym. The towel must have gotten soaked, and she was definitely not about to walk back to her locker without anything to cover her very wet and very naked body.

"It's alright, I will go get you another one." A muffled voice on the other side of Clarke spoke.

She was about to thank the polite stranger when she heard the shower in the next stall being shut off, and the sound of the curtain being shifted to the side. Clarke had turned off her shower as well, and used her arms to shield herself against the chill in the air. After a few minutes of waiting in an uncomfortable position, Clarke thought the girl wasn't coming back and started to become unnerved.

Clarke saw movement from above her, a folded towel being passed to her over the curtain as she breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't have another embarrassing story to tell Octavia.

"Thank you so much. You saved me from a lot of awkwardness." Clarke said timidly.

She went to grab the towel being extended to her and caught view of the hand when she pulled it out of the girls grasp. She's only seen it twice now, but she could recognize that distinctive rose tattoo anywhere.

"You would be surprised how often this happens, it is no trouble." The voice was eerily familiar now that she knew who was talking to her. It almost made Clarke breathless, the realization and how soft-spoken the voice sounded tinged with amusement.

What are the chances?

The blonde was having a difficult time trying to decide what to say next, but Clarke just found herself tongue-tied by the whole situation. By the time she actually formulated a sentence in her head, she was leaving the shower only to see no one was there.

Again, Clarke didn't know what she was expecting but she still felt a little disappointed. She had herself wrapped in the towel, her damp hair splayed on the nape of her neck.

Making her way down the rows of change room lockers, she noticed how empty it became, and was comforted with the idea of extra privacy.

Clarke was caught off guard when she reached the row where her locker was, only to see a shirtless girl sitting on the other side of her.

There were earphones in her ears, her head bobbing up and down; at least she couldn't hear anything. Her attention was focused on the phone in her hands, oblivious to the movement behind her. She had a black bra on and beige jogging pants, but it didn't stop Clarke from letting her eyes wander briefly.

She opened her locker quietly, trying not to startle the girl. She took that as an opportunity to do a double take at the girl's torso. There was a large tattoo of a sword down the middle of her back, with angel wings on the sides of the hilt. It was beautifully done, and it only made her gaze roam further down the curve of the girls back. She tried to not think about how smooth the skin looked under the light.

Clarke couldn't recognize the girl she was looking at, her shoulders were sunken in which made her appear more fragile than she was. It was her, whoever she was. All it took was a glance; the scars on her forearm already a memorable image in Clarke's head.

The brunette who had straighter hair this time looked a lot less intimidating than she did lifting weights. Clarke was having a hard time figuring out if they were both the same person. The girl in front of her looked small under her gaze even though she couldn't see her face, Clarke felt lucky to be seeing a more vulnerable side.

After indulging her eyes for a bit longer than necessary, Clarke thought it would probably be a good idea to stop staring and get her clothes on. She took out her gym bag from inside and set it on the bench, checking if the girl had heard it. She didn't, her back was still towards Clarke.

This could be the only opportunity to talk to her, and Clarke needed to clear her head of the guilty thoughts that started to plague her mind. She tries to convince herself that it's an odd luck that she's run into her as much as she has. But if she's being honest, Clarke doesn't believe in coincidences, she's a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.

Be cool Clarke.

That was when Clarke decided to slam the locker door shut with a little too much force. From the corner of her eye she saw that the girl flinched at the noise and froze in her spot. Her shoulders visibly tensed and the vulnerability Clarke saw two minutes ago was replaced with a cold apprehension.

Clarke turned her head to see green eyes looking back from her seated position. The girl's eyes widened when she saw her, pulling out her earphones and turned back around to find a shirt. She put it on with a little too much fervor, pulling down her sleeves past her wrists. When she saw this, Clarke felt a familiar heaviness settle in her chest.

"Thanks again, for the towel." She offered, holding up her towel around her and using the other hand to rifle through her gym bag.

"That was you?" Clarke glanced over and saw a look of disbelief on her face.

"Yeah, small world." The blonde saw realization spread across the girls face, and hid her smile.

"You are not following me, I hope." The girl looked away and picked up a water bottle from near her feet and took a long drink.

"Don't flatter yourself, I came here for a run." Clarke responded nonchalantly. She moved her eyes back to her belongings and missed the momentary look of distaste on the girls face.

She heard a quiet chuckle come from the other side, "Does almost falling off the treadmill count as a satisfactory run?"

There was a ghost of a smile on Clarke's lips, but she brushed it off and felt her eyes being drawn to the girls. "Were you watching me?"

The brunette had avoided her stare and couldn't hide the slight blush creeping up on her cheeks. Something about knowing that she wasn't the only one staring gave her a warm feeling in her stomach. Clarke felt her own face getting warmer.

Okay so far, so good.

"N-no of course not. But it was hard to miss the sound of gagging coming from the treadmills." The girls eyes darted around, she picked up the water bottle again and took another large drink. This time Clarke moved her eyes to the girl and caught the small but noticeable look of disgust on her face.

I probably just made her uncomfortable.

Clarke realized she still hadn't changed; she looked down at herself wrapped up in the towel and then to the girl.

"Oh, yes. Of course, sorry." The brunette stammered and turned her body around to face a row of lockers.

Clarke was sometimes a little blind to things but she wasn't oblivious to the nervousness the girl was showing. It wasn't obvious but Clarke could sense that she too was caught off guard by what was happening. She started dressing herself, looking back to see that the figure had still kept her eyes trained to the floor.

"With the amount of times we run into each other, I think it's only fair to know your name." Clarke had been waiting to ask, trying to sound casual.

"Lexa," She said faintly.

It sounded so mechanical coming out of her mouth, but Clarke couldn't stop thinking about how easily it rolled off her tongue.

Lexa.

"And you?"

"I'm Clarke," she took careful steps towards Lexa after fastening the buttons on her shirt.

The dark haired girl noticed the voice get closer to her, and she rotated her torso to see the blonde girl standing above her, hesitantly offering her hand.

It was like she had never shaken anyone's hand before, looking at the open palm in front of her with a look that Clarke couldn't figure out.

Lexa had gotten up from the bench and maintained space between them, "Nice to meet you, Clarke."

The way Lexa's tongue clicked saying her name made Clarke's stomach flutter.

It sounds so much better when she says it.

She had brought her hand up to Clarke's and held it firmly. They were looking at each other with a quiet intensity, unaware of how long their hands were touching until Lexa abruptly pulled hers away. She looked at her hand like she got burned, and curled it into a fist beside her.

Clarke missed the warmth of her hand as soon as it was gone, feeling a scorching sensation where their hands met. She didn't really know just what that was. That was weird. Instead she gave Lexa a small smile and walked back to the other side, putting away her gym attire.

Lexa resumed her place on the bench and fidgeted with her hands absentmindedly.

"I couldn't help but notice your tattoos, they're beautiful."

"Thank you." Lexa moved her eyes to Clarke and saw that she had taken a seat, mirroring her position.

"May I ask what they mean?" She wanted to know if there was a story behind the artwork.

After a couple seconds of silence Lexa spoke, "The sword on my back represents unwavering strength, and the wings symbolize... hope, if you will."

"What about the rose on your hand?" That was the first one Clarke had seen and was immediately drawn to it, she thought it must have held importance considering the intimate placement.

Lexa lowered her gaze and avoided the stare she felt from the blonde. She used her other hand and gently moved her thumb back and forth across the tattooed skin beneath.

"It holds no meaning, it is just a single rose." The blonde couldn't return the uncertain stare from Lexa and tried to work with her.

Clarke didn't really believe her, but pressing too far got her nowhere the last time, "But why on the hand?"

Lexa continued to look down at her hand, her face appearing to be contemplating something. Clarke noticed a shift in the girl's demeanour when the blonde looked back up at her.

The brunette's eyes flickered to the floor, then back to Clarke's and tightened her jaw. "Why do you keep trying so hard?" Lexa asked coldly.

She wasn't talking about her tattoo anymore and Clarke needed a second to collect her thoughts. Bringing up the meaning of the rose was a sensitive topic, which brought a new but recognizable heaviness around Clarke.

The last time Clarke answered the girls question with another worked out terribly so she decided that it was only fair to answer honestly.

"Everyone needs someone who cares, as much as you think that you don't need anyone." Clarke cautiously lifted up her gaze and waited for a response.

She could see that what she had just said definitely struck a nerve causing Lexa to visibly shrink under her stare. The girl's shoulders seemed to sink in slightly before straightening while she continued to look at her feet.

"Caring too much only results in disappointment." Was all Lexa had said, her voice was steady but Clarke could hear the strain as well.

She didn't know how or when they started to talk about heavier subject matter, but for the first time ever, Clarke could hear genuineness in Lexa's voice.

"Caring too little might make you feel untouchable, but it isn't worth the loneliness you feel."

The two women had been talking for well over five minutes in the stillness of the change room, and seemed to lose track of time. Clarke had already finished changing and she would've already left if it weren't for the invisible pull she felt in her chest.

"I would rather care too little than care too much," Lexa drifted her eyes from the floor and flickered them towards the attentive girl watching her, "Loneliness is inescapable, we simply must learn to adapt."

Clarke was wringing her hands together listening to Lexa and blew a puff of air through her nose in frustration, "I'll stop you right there." She honestly didn't know what was fuelling her thoughts; they had barely talked before this.

Her legs moved on her own accord, and Clarke found herself taking careful steps towards the other side of the room.

A look of panic flashed through Lexa's eyes when Clarke began to take closer steps, she laced her fingers together and kept her pale-green eyes trained on her hands.

"No one needs to adapt to isolation, we're not expected to get through life all by ourselves," Clarke was standing over Lexa now and wasn't able to stop the weight being pressed into her chest when she saw how small she looked, "At the end of the day we only have ourselves, but at the same time, it doesn't hurt to let someone in."

Clarke best expressed herself through physical contact, but she knew that other people didn't appreciate what she thought was simply a kind gesture. She pushed away the feeling of uncertainty and brought her hand to Lexa's shoulder and rested it there. Clarke had the intent to comfort but something inside her craved the closeness, convincing herself it was a platonic gesture.

The brunette flinched at the contact, it was subtle but Clarke felt her freeze when her hand met her shoulder. She couldn't help but relish in being able to be this close to Lexa, trying to be as tender as possible. After a few moments of silence between the two, Clarke felt Lexa lean in to the touch and sigh.

Clarke had focused her downward gaze towards Lexa's, silence calmly washing over them. She watched as Lexa parted her lips to blow out a breath of air, and that was when Clarke realized she was probably a lot closer than the girl wanted.

Even though Clarke's face was a lot higher since she was standing, she couldn't miss the smell of stale liquor pass through the air as Lexa exhaled.

Clarke began having a lot of difficulty distinguishing what the heaviness she felt in her chest meant and the warmth in her abdomen. She was slowly piecing together an internal revelation, her chest constricting with each passing thought. She let her hand tighten her grip around Lexa's shoulder, setting her jaw straight.

There was so much more Clarke needed to know, and she was willing to be there to listen, if she was given the chance. It was something about Lexa's eyes that drew her in, at first she saw a shallow stare but now she was able to find the depth. But it wasn't until she saw the girl let her guard down for the first time in front of Clarke, that she let herself get pulled in even more by an invisible tether.

If Clarke had any doubts about her feelings, this encounter with Lexa solidified at least a few things. It's unfair to expect anything more than friendship this early on, so she tried to focus on Lexa and not the warmth she felt swirling in her abdomen. Clarke knows absolutely nothing about her but the idea of having even just a chance made her chest feel a little lighter.

"We accept the love we think we deserve," Clarke felt the girls shoulders steadily raise and fall, and gave another light but supporting squeeze, "But sometimes we just need a little help to change the way we think about ourselves."

With that, Clarke pulled her hand back in to her side and immediately missed the contact, feeling a tingling feeling where her palm lay. She wasn't going to be the one who watched Lexa walk away again, so without another word she moved towards her gym bag and slung it over her shoulder.

Lexa released a breath she didn't realize she was holding, exhaling through her mouth and closed her eyes before opening them again. Green eyes blinked towards where Clarke had been picking up her things, watching in silence as she moved away from the lockers. She took notice of a crumpled piece of paper fall through Clarke's fingers and wondered what it was.

She found her legs moving towards the discarded object, bending over to pick up the small folded up piece of paper. It was ripped off from a corner of a page, small enough to fit in a few words. Lexa opened it and saw a delicately written script with ten digits and two other accompanying words below.

I'm here.