Ch. 3 Turning Tide
The smell is familiar, surrounded by sheets that aren't hers. She grips them anyway as her skin trickles with static. Her eyes are blurry but she can see that this isn't her room. She tries to look around—
She can't…. she can't breathe; her chest rises and falls shallow along with her internal vibration.
"ohmygod" Clarke can barely hear herself through the clouds in her ears.
Her dull senses take in everything around her, the candles flickering on the nightstand offer a soft glow to her skin, a musk fills her sharp and short inhales, and she relishes in the source of it all—between her legs…giving her everything.
Clarke turns her head against the plum colored pillow, she holds her breath as the warmth tumbling through her core quivers at the edge of release. She doesn't want this to end; it's peace. Clarke tries to hold on to this feeling as long as she can—a single tear escapes her resistance.
"fuck…" she whispers to herself. Her eyes are hooded but she wants to keep her lucidity—it's fleeting. She wants to hold on to this feeling—it's beating.
As soon as her skin starts to burn from every pore, she is yanked from the edge. Soft palms slide up her thighs and warm breaths cascade inching along with them. Just as she thought her breath couldn't be anymore ephemeral, it's taken completely away. Clarke's body goes rigid but her mind explodes into viridian. Those eyes bear into her soul like it has come along way from home only to return. The comfort it gives her washes the burn from her skin replacing it with salvation.
She reaches out but her arms don't move.
She tries to speak but she can't.
The weight on her chest pushes her into the bed; she can't move her head despite her desperate attempt. The lucidity she so desperately has been clinging to fades further and further from her grasp.
"Clarke"
Lexa…
"Clarke?"
She struggles against her covert restraints to hold Lexa as she starts to fade. Her fantasy morphs into a nightmare as she slips away. The warmth and salvation evaporate off her skin. Clarke screams but no sound emits. She shakes against her will.
"Clarke!"
"No!" Not again… She feels exposed, naked, and hollow… Another part of her connate home is crumbling into ruin. The candles that surround her extinguish leaving the room dark, almost perilous. She is shaking involuntarily.
"Dad…" She whispers as her shaking riddles her whole body.
"Clarke, wake up!"
Her consciousness snaps the tether from the nocturne of her nightmare. She feels pinned somehow still trapped. Stuck in a daze she thrashes against it.
"No!"
"Hey, Clarke…shh it's just me."
Clarke stops struggling against the embrace hearing a familiar voice. Strong arms hold her together.
"You were dreaming…you're okay."
She just nods and relaxes looking around—it's her room. It was a dream.
She takes a deep breath— It was just a dream nightmare.
"I…" Clarke turns over "Sorry…" The fog ever present in her mind; she still doesn't feel like herself.
"Por nada mija, you good?" Raven loosens her hold. As soon as she does Clarke pushes off of her into a sitting position and rubs her face into her hands.
"Yeah" She exhales and falls back into her bed "it was weird"
"Your dream?" Raven props herself up on her elbow, head resting in her hand.
"Yeah, it was so real" She turns her head to look at her best friend, "What time is it?"
"It's a little past 9, do you have to be somewhere?"
"Yeah, lunch with Indra."
Clarke swings her legs so she can sit on the edge of the bed, her back is sweaty and her limbs are sore. Yesterday hums in her head. She remembers going to lunch with Bellamy at The Ark, he ordered the best wine she has ever tasted and she was sure it was the most expensive. This lunch was different than all the others, he was opening up and she started to see a side of him that she actually liked. He wasn't as pretentious and elite minded as she presumed. Although, he is still those things there was a glimmer of something else. It wasn't much but it was a fraction more than he had given her, she notices that every time they have lunch he opens up a little more and she realizes that Indra's plan is working—that his guard was coming down and as soon as Indra thinks it to be enough, she would increase Clarke's involvement. Things weren't as what they seemed and she could feel it.
After the long lunch, Mr. Blake ended the date per usual—kiss on the hand, a courteous farewell, and was dropped off near her truck at Trigeda Studios. Her mind was turning and she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling like the seemingly stable land under her feet held a secret of an underground current eating away at is foundation. She wanted to relax her mind so after lunch she stopped by Polis for a few drink. Then she would head home. But she couldn't remember much after that; it seemed to come in pieces.
She sat on the edge of the bed trying put the pieces together, trying to grasp through the fog but she couldn't.
"Raven?"
"Hmm" she answers with her eyes still closed.
"Can you…" She turns lifting one leg up on to the bed to face her "what happened last night?"
Raven opens her eyes, props herself up against the headboard and crosses her arms.
"You don't remember, do you?"
Clarke's lips scrunch into one of her cheeks, "Not really… I remember going to Polis and the rest is in pieces. I remember dancing for a little bit but didn't feel like being rubbed up on. I remember drinking whiskey and then someone kept buying me drinks of something but it was good so I didn't care…" As she went through the night more and more pieces were falling into place. "…You were there?"
Raven smirked a bit, "Yeah, I got there after you texted me some half baked confession of your crush on 'green-eyes'. Some guy was hovering over you when I arrived and he wouldn't stop watching you once I sat down. You took a few sips of your drink and started to feel dizzy." She shakes her head, "Clarke, you shouldn't accept random drinks from strangers. I'm pretty sure if you had finished that drink you wouldn't even be awake right now."
Clarke looks at her with a bit of shock mixed with sadness. "Are you serious?" She moved to lay her head down in Raven's lap and looks up at the ceiling. She knows things like that happen all the time but she has never been a victim herself. It was just suppose to be a quick pit stop before heading home. She turns abruptly to look at Raven.
"If… If you hadn't come… Raven…oh my god. I can't even thi—"
"Then don't because it didn't happen. It won't happen. Clarke, if you ever need to go somewhere alone then call me, I will sit across the bar if you need to be alone. But we should never be out by ourselves, especially in this creep town." Raven brushes her hair out from her face and gives her an encouraging smile.
"You made it home safe, you are okay."
Clarke lifts her hands over her face, "It wasn't even night time yet Ray, like it was 3 or 4 o'clock!"
"Creeps don't have a schedule Clarke, they are everywhere and will exploit anything and everything at anytime."
Clarke nods and turns to look at the ceiling once more. She isn't sure what's scarier, the fact that she was that close to something so horrible happening or the feeling like things are slowly veering into the obscure. She knows things never happen easy or as planned, but Indra has been tense lately and that makes her unsettled. Indra was always calm, and always someone she thinks of when she is feeling uneasy.
"Besides, it seems before you started thrashing about in your sleep you were having a good dream."
At that Clarke turns to look at her and Raven wiggles her eyebrows down at her.
"What?" She flushes a bit, her mouth thin.
"You were squirming and moaning"
Raven smiles at the sudden flush in her cheeks, "nothing I haven't heard before Clarke, don't be so square."
She laughs and jumps out of bed, "I'll make some coffee, you sit tight and rest."
Flashes of her dream come flooding back to Clarke, as she lay there stunned by her bed time display. When she remembers whom she was dreaming about she rolls into her bed with a huff, face buried in the pillows. The duality of her dream left her riddled. It was strange to her that it morphed into the desolate feeling of loss. The loss she almost let consume her when her dad died. Strange in the fact that she went from feeling so good to so horrible, strange that it was mixed with pleasure and then pain, and strange because she really didn't like that it juxtaposed Lexa and her dad. She shudders at the thought and recoils into her self. Why Clarke? She asks herself why her mind puts these things in her head. After calming herself down she tries to rationalize it.
Raven returns with coffee and sees Clarke's face contorted.
"Hey, what is it?" she sits down next to her and attempts to hand her coffee just the way she likes it, a touch of hazelnut creamer and a spoon full of natural brown sugar.
Clarke looks at Raven, contemplating telling her about her dream while she pulls herself from her sheets to grab the mug.
"I'm just thinking about my dream," she says blowing into the cup bringing her favorite morning aroma through her senses.
Raven scoots back to sit beside her against the headboard, "Tell me about it?"
"I feel really weird about it… you sure you want to hear it?" Clarke raises her brows.
Her best friend just nods and takes a sip from her mug.
"Okay but honestly Raven, It weirds me out so try and not make fun of me…" She looks for compliance before she continues, "So it starts off in this room that isn't mine. I can't really grasp myself, I feel foggy and full of white noise. I try to look around but all my senses were dull and I was short of breath. I soon realize that someone was going down on me and it felt really good..."
Raven smiles into her mug but stifles any comment or further reaction so she would continue.
"…I am like really close until she starts to climb up my body and that is when I see that its…its Lexa. She was looking up at me and the way she looked at me was…"
Clarke takes a deep inhale, remembering the feeling it gave her to be looked at like that.
"anyway, I couldn't move… it felt like some great resistance was holding me down, I couldn't see it but I felt it. There was a low hum in my ears and I couldn't move. I was so scared because I tried reaching out to her but she was fading away. The feeling I had was of such emptiness, it went from warm to cold in seconds… I felt like I had lost everything like when my dad died and…"
Clarke was thinking about the feeling so hard that she started to feel that way again, tears build up in her eyes with out her realizing it. She sucked in a sharp breath and holds it in.
Raven waits patiently, knowing she isn't finished.
"It was so odd Raven, to have a sex dream turn into a nightmare of my dad. Like how fucked up is that?!" She implores with a whispered sob.
Raven sits her mug on the nightstand and positions herself behind Clarke so that she sat between her legs and could lean back into her body. "Shhh Clarke… it's okay. It's not that fucked up. Honestly, dreams are messed up; not the dreamer…it just means something else—nothing literal."
Clarke was holding her coffee up to her face—hiding—tears falling. Raven wraps her arms around her and takes the mug from her harsh grip setting her mug next to hers.
"Once I had a dream of my aunt Rosa and she morphed into this stripper I had a crush on. Clarke, it was weird but it was just converging my feelings from two separate parts of my reality. I wanted my aunt Rosa to like me so bad when I was growing up but she didn't give me the time of day. And the stripper brushed me off so many times, I wanted her to like me so bad as well. So sometimes it's deeper than the literal…"
Clarke shudders at the thought of her dream again; Raven's dream only made her feel weirder.
Raven chuckles a little at her reaction because she had the same one when she awoke but dreams are so complex she got over it pretty quick, "Clarke…can I tell you what I think?
She nods and scoots further back into the comfort of her best friend.
"I think you are afraid of loss. You're scared to let anyone in because you think that losing anyone else would break you. When your dad died you were completely lost and broken that it took months for you to find yourself again. I had to just wait because you shut me out. I understood but you haven't let anyone new into your life since. And I think that Lexa is someone you can truly care about and you are afraid of what that might mean. It opens you up to the pain of loss and the intensity in which you are drawn to her frightens you; So much that I think you convince yourself that it's better to not have than to have and lose it."
She increases her hold on Clarke and leans forward to see if she is listening. The blonde nods as she calms to her words.
"Anxiety will draw out the strangest things from the caverns of our minds and I think you are still fighting those demons that emerged from your dads death. You witnessed something horrible and you couldn't stop it. And it wasn't your fault, I know you think it is. You can't hide from the world forever Clarke, you can't be an observer forever. You need to live."
Clarke slumps for a beat before lifting herself out of Raven's embrace and turns herself so she is facing her.
"That's how I've been surviving Raven, It's been enough. It will be enough. I only need you."
Raven smiles, "Despite how great that is, I cannot be the only one Clarke. I can't handle that amount of pressure. I love you but I can't be the only love in your life."
Clarke knows this but she doesn't want to risk it. She has valiantly protected herself all these years by watching and learning vicariously through others. She feels hardened because of it and if she lets someone new into her armored world, a single blow could relinquish all her power and progress.
"I know…" She feels defeated but not so conflicted about her dream anymore. Raven was right, she is afraid of loss and that feeling of hollowness just shows her how much she would do to avoid that feeling again. Clarke scoots to get off the bed for the solace of her bathroom.
Raven grimaces at her best friend's internal struggle and reaches out, "Clarke, I will be everything you want me to be for as long as you need… but will you try to let people in; let her in?"
The rough palm that lay on her arm brings little comfort to her but she pauses at her words. It was selfish of her to ask Raven to be the only one to take on her burdens, dreams, hopes, and fears but she trusts her more than her own mother. She loves her more than she has loved anyone and she knows she would never hurt her. Her mother hasn't been a part of her life since Clarke left, she didn't understand. Without responding she strides into the bathroom to get ready for her lunch with Indra.
Indra was already sitting at their usual table in the back. It was a small local restaurant in Korea town. Indra knew the owner very well from her childhood and that's all Clarke knew about the place. It's a little before noon when Clarke arrived for lunch. She approaches Indra with a slow pace, not eager to be prodded and picked for information today. Ready to get this over with, she slumps down into her seat. Indra didn't acknowledge her, her eyes glued to her journal as she writes. They sit in silence for a few minutes before the waiter comes by to hand Clarke her usual, iced tea and Kim chi. She doesn't feel like eating so she just takes a few sips from her drink.
"So Clarke, care to tell me what is bothering you?" She asks without lifting her pen from paper.
The artist sits across from her statuesque boss shifting in her seat. How does she always do that?
"You know, it's a little creepy how you can do that."
Her comment elicits a smirk but her focus is still on her journal. Clarke attempts to deflect with a question but Indra sits in the silence, completely content—waiting.
Clarke swallows looking around before scooting closer to confess, "I am a bit uneasy about… what I am doing. I know that the information I am giving you is of some importance but I can't help but feel the tide shifting." Her voice is soft but steady enough for Indra to hear her concern.
Indra finishes her entry, quietly shuts her journal and folds her hands on top. A smile is now evident, Clarke almost feels like its one of approval, that she isn't wrong in her assumption.
"So tell me about your lunch with Mr. Blake." Her voice rang cool and cavalier.
Oh we are just going to jump right in…okay. Clarke clears her throat, "It started off normal as ever and I waited in his car at Trigeda Studios. He arrived ten minutes later and accompanied me in the backseat. He asked me how I was doing after he complimented me on what I was wearing. When I asked him how he was doing, he looked out the window and smiled. He said he will be doing better soon but for now was stressed. I thought it a nice honest answer from the usual nod of 'good'"
Indra opens her journal back up at this point and was jotting something down.
"Um, we arrived at The Ark after sitting in comfortable silence. We sat down at a table and he ordered wine—"
"What was his demeanor?" Indra asks with out looking up.
"To me he seemed anxious but there was a gleam of excitement to his actions. He was interested in what I thought of the wine and told me a story about a bottle of wine he found in the ocean. He said it was the best wine he had tasted, having been resting in the cold ocean bed for centuries. I asked him how he found the wine; he leaned in and told me he likes to dive at night sometimes, it clears his head. He said he has found many interesting things in places most people won't go. He transitioned into offering me a private viewing his coin collection during the production party at the end of the month."
"Did he mention anything else about diving or the ocean?"
"Um, he mentioned that he liked this project because of the main character. Her passion was similar to his. He likes history and the dangers of pirates… oh! One of his favorite books is Robinson Crusoe. He mentioned the character a few times in comparison to himself."
"Good, continue…" She wrote some more.
"So, he asked me a lot of questions about my interests and complimented me numerous times on my eyes. He was more forward than other times and he seemed more relaxed around me…"
Clarke waited for Indra to say anything but she just kept writing so she continued to narrate her time, even with the mundane details of what they ordered, how it tasted, and how he carried himself.
"…and Roan would come by every so often to whisper something in his ear, I think they were updates, and then he would walk off again. After dessert he thanked me for my time and escorted me back to the car. He told me he wouldn't be able to see me until the party at his house at the end of the month. I asked him why and he said business."
Indra looks up with an inquisitive brow, "He won't be attending the rest of the read throughs?"
Clarke shrugs her shoulders, "I'm not sure, but it sounded like he wouldn't be in town."
"What were his exact words when he told you?" A stern inflection is in her voice.
"Um… he said, 'I'm glad we had lunch today. Unfortunately, the next time we will see each other will be at the end of the month at the production celebration. I'll think of your eyes when I see the ocean.' Then I asked him where he was going and he answered, 'A little business with some old friends."
"I see…" Indra wrote some things down and then added notes on the margin before closing her journal.
Thankful that her lunch—interrogation—debriefs or whatever it was is almost over. Clarke takes another sip of her tea and waits for Indra to speak.
"Clarke, I know you have many questions as to why I request this information and why I encourage you to attend meetings for me. Just know it will all be known soon. You are a vital part of my team and I trust you. You aren't wrong about the tide but know that I will always keep you safe."
She stares at her boss for a bit before forcing a smile. Keep me safe? Clarke starts to wonder if she is in any danger or if she could be.
"Am I in danger Indra?"
Indra smiles and shakes her head, "No not at all, I am just letting you know that you aren't doing anything wrong or illegal."
This doesn't ease Clarke's doubts but it does encourage her to ask a question, "May I ask you something?"
Indra nods.
"What language are you writing in?"
Indra smirks at her, knowing that she has stolen a peak once or twice at what she is writing but never attempted to keep her from viewing. She knows no one is able to read her journal except her and a few other people that she trusts with her life.
"It isn't anything you would know."
"Does it have a name? I am just curious, I mean if you trust me I could know right?"
Clarke was interested because it was nothing like she has seen before and once she tried to pronounce a few words, it sounded ancient.
"Clarke, it is none of your concern." Indra starts packing up; "I will see you at the read through tomorrow. You will be meeting with the Monty during the meeting and drawing up his ideas for the cast. Bring markers instead of your watercolor set."
She takes in a deep sigh, "Alright, anything else Indra?"
Clarke gets up at the same time as her boss and follows her out of the restaurant.
"Don't think too much Clarke, this is business. It is always wise to keep a close eye on things. Just always have your mind about you and do not trust so easily. You are a very bright woman; keep your eyes open. As always, tell no one of the content of our meetings Clarke." Indra places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes before walking off.
"Well that wasn't cryptic at all…" Clarke mumbles to herself before she heads to her truck a few blocks in the opposite direction. 'Keep my eyes open' 'you'll keep me safe' 'it's not illegal' While she walks to her car, all these assurances seem to paint a new picture for her. This is the turn of the tide and she knows better than to take words at face value. These executives she has lunches with aren't ignorant, they are very wealthy, very powerful people who she knows have hands in a lot of different kinds of business, some would say dirty. I mean, who doesn't in this industry, in this city.
She gets to her car and notices something underneath her windshield wipers; it's a card with a single gear emblem in the middle. She flips it over and it's blank. The card stock is thick and the emblem is in elegant gold ink—expensive she thinks. Clarke looks around her and doesn't see anyone. She is a little spooked but doesn't let it get to her. She puts the card in her purse and starts her engine. She looks around her one more time before setting her course to home. Should I tell Indra?
The next day
Raven wakes early, starts the coffee and commits to her morning stretches. She is a mechanical person, one who discovers how individual pieces can function and how they can be put together for a greater purpose. This skill is not only limited to metal but to flesh and bone. She understands how people work, human nature and the brutality of truth. Raven takes little refuge in others, willing to do it all on her own. Until she met her stubborn equal who is now her roommate, love, best friend, her only family. Her once rigid exterior weathered by the world lies now more admissible to the elements. They gave each other something they both desperately needed to survive; where one softened the other hardened. Eight years ago she laid her heart open to the flame, to love. Hoping to weld it into armor only to rouse scarred from the ashes— never fully healed. The anger she feels motivates her to be better, work harder, and to protect herself. It was a lesson she branded on her skin below her left breast, 'infirmitate mea.' She had many tattoos, covering her arms and her back, but this one healed more true than the others.
She stretches every morning to increase her flexibility; her routine began after her first surgery when she was sixteen. Her parents were less than role model and would often forget to stock the fridge or pay the rent. She wandered the streets most nights deciding that the open air and concrete bed fared better than the stench of alcohol and different kinds of smoke. It was never home. She never called it home because it wasn't; it was a grave. She'd die there if she hadn't of left. The night she left was the night she wished she hadn't.
Raven finishes her stretch and workout routine, jumps into black jeans and throws on a white muscle tee. As she straps on her tan work boots, she hears Clarke groan in her sleep. She pops up off her bed, pokes her head in her room and sees her roll over. Raven feels the need to protect Clarke from the world and sometimes from her own self. She would willingly whittle herself into nothing for the one's she loved, even when they tell her not to.
Once she is sure Clarke is settled in to slumber she makes her way into the kitchen to prepare her travel coffee.
7:00am
Raven arrives at the hospital to visit Niko before heading to Trigeda Studios. She's been visiting him for the past few days because they are friends. He was similar to a father figure but more like a brother. Niko cared enough to teach her things she would be interested in but wouldn't dare ask. He noticed her intrigue, paid mind to her ability and after showing her something once he would trust her to succeed. She would have been in stunts if it weren't for her leg.
"Hey Swish… how are you feeling?" Raven asks while dragging a chair to his bedside.
"Broken like my pride," he quips but it doesn't move passed the corner of his mouth.
"They shouldn't have let you go so fast but what's important is that you're alive. You could have died if you hadn't of tucked and rolled off like you did…" she assures him that this way is better than not having a way at all.
He nods delivering a smile at her sentiment but she knows it doesn't help. Words have little ability to heal compared to time.
"I'll be sure to give the new stunt coordinator hell for you" she assures him, "I have to go to Trigeda but I wanted to give you this." She hands him a metal sculpture of a bird, "you know for taking me under your wing and all that bullshit." She assuages with a smile and grips his shoulder before exiting his room.
"Ste yuj"
Raven pauses in the hallway when she thinks she heard him call out to her but she hears nothing afterwards so she shakes it off and makes her leave before her tears show.
8:30am
Clarke pulls into Trigeda studios and she notices someone right on her tail. This makes her flinch but she knows she is just being paranoid. Down the long stretch to the parking area she can't help but glance in her rear view mirror the whole way. She can't quite make out the figure in the drivers seat as she turns in the parking lot. She makes sure she grabs a front row spot so if she were kidnapped maybe someone would see it happen. Clarke watches the car follow in with her and park on the opposite side of the entryway. She squints her eyes but she can't see through the dark tint of the windows. Letting out a deep sigh she idles in her car for bit checking her emails and social media before heading inside. She opens twitter reading the latest posts on her feed.
-
Discovery Discovery The sun's life span is a speck in comparison to the other stars in the universe [Big ]
Monty Python MCsquared Finally! lez girls will wear le costumes magnifique!
She looks up from her phone to see if the other driver has exited their vehicle. Their car is still running and she thinks they might be watching her. She doesn't have to be inside for another twenty minutes so she just burrows down in her seat and continues on her phone.
Smithsonian Smithsonian Inky's not the only cephalopod who has amazed us with its intellect .edu/26dKbYD via OceanPortal
Museum of Modern Art MuseumModernArt Rainy day in#NYC..a good excuse to spend some hours more at MuseumMordernArt [ ]
Jaspergers JasperJordan What the flip do?! Can't stand trumps wannabe ken doll hair let alone his campaign! #liberal-achee #hairdocare #fliporflop #americanteven
Clarke laughs out loud; hearts jaspers post and giggles, "you're so gay."
Finn Collins FCdirect T-minus 28 days til production of RV! RoyalViridian LXwoods CostiaVillen OntariNation FoxxSox EchoDelemont AnCrew TrigedaStudios
She reads Finn's tweet and looks at his tags, she clicks on LXwoods. She isn't going to creep on her profile, she just wants to see what she has to say as a human being is all, she doesn't scroll down into her deep history or anything, nor does she stalk her media and lift the phone really close to her face to see in more detail. Clarke doesn't do that kind of thing.
She notices Lexa doesn't post that often yet she has over 200k followers. Clarke focuses on her pictures scrolling back in her history, smiling on occasion until she pauses at one photo of her and Costia. She has her arm around her waist and she is whispering something in her ear. This picture seemed intimate in a way. Clarke zoomed in way closer than she needed to and saw that Costia's lips were grazing her ear. At that Clarke exited the app, inhaled a deep breath leaning her head back in her seat. It shouldn't bother her this much but it does. It's getting close to the meeting time so she decides to make her way inside forgetting all about her parking buddy.
As she exits the truck her phone vibrates in her dress pant pocket.
RavenClaw
[8:45am] You better be up and trotting princesa melocoton to the studio by now!
[8:47am] Let me know if you're alive! You seemed pretty dead this morning! XX
Clarke shakes her head and replies.
[8:48am] Shut your wet mouth! We are here and queer, walking up now. Lol
She was about to type another reply when she felt someone walk up close behind her. Before she could see who it was she increases her pace and takes a step to the side to avoid contact. She panics a little but doesn't show it; ready to fend off any abductor she readies her lungs to wail.
[8:48am] If I go missing Raven, check the video tapes of Trigedahpgg'b i
"AHHhhhhh!" She screams jolted from her text when a squeeze to her sides made her grip her phone for dear life and jump a mile high. Her scream trails off like a tornado siren, "ahhhumm…why do you keep doing that! Seriously, do you get off?"
"Hello Clarke," she shrugs while striding along through the entrance, "something about seeing you jump excites me."
"Wait…do you drive a Jeep?" Clarke asks with slight indignation looking back in the parking lot.
Lexa uh-hums and keeps walking when Clarke had slowed her stride to inquire.
"What, you waited for me to exit my car before gracing me with your presence? Stalker much Lexa?" she banters with sarcastic undertone as she catches up.
"I thought you said you would control your 'urges'," she continues while sending Raven a text.
[8:50am] On second thought, check the prison cells because I will murder this woman soon.
"I said I would work on them Clarke, though with you it might be futile." She shoots her a side-glance accompanied by that smile.
Clarke doesn't hold back her smile while looking her up and down from her peripheral. She notices Lexa is way more casual than she usually is wearing sunglasses, dark denim, a red flannel loosely tucked in front, and beat up black vans.
"You look…" Clarke swallows not meaning to say that out loud. They arrive in front of the elevators where she decides she best not say anything more and bites her tongue.
"I look… what Clarke?" Lexa lifts her sunglasses off her face to sit at the top of her head. Oh you fucker… Clarke scolds herself not to look at her eyes. She notices Lexa's gym bag and realizes she must have just come from working out.
"uh… tired." She offers the first thing that came to her mind. She doesn't have to censor her thoughts often and gives sardonic thanks to her quick-witted muffin brain for its contribution.
Bzzz
RavenClaw
[8:52am] Shwut? Who dis bish?
[8:52am] BTW I can't imagine you murdering anyone. You couldn't even kill the spider in the bathroom last night! I had to come save your naked ass.
"Thanks for the pep talk Clarke" Lexa deadpans.
She replies with out lifting her head from the safety of her phone, "Anytime Lexa" she regains her nerve and decides to turn the tide in this little soirée, "I'm good at making girls tired." She grins proud of her joust and continues texting Raven.
[8:53am] There are many ways to slay a woman Raven ;)
[8:53am] Lexa won't know what to do with herself once I am done. Game on.
[8:53am] Get it! I expect a play by play.
Lexa chokes on nothing bringing her fist up to her mouth to conceal her surprise at the comment. She shifts the weight to her other leg and reaches slowly across Clarke's visual path over her phone to push the button to the fifth floor making sure her chest grazes against her arm.
"Are you now?" she asks at a near whisper turning her jaw to sneak a peak at Clarke's reaction as she slowly retracts her position.
Ohgod… was that her boob on my arm… it was… I mean fuck…
[8:54am] Fuckkkkkkk
[8:54am] Herrrrr
Clarke scrunches her nose at her best friend's quick response. She steps backwards to lean against the wall because her forsaken knees are anything but reliable. She puts her phone in her bag and comes to the sudden realization they are the only one's in the elevator. She starts to panic but remembers her resolve; it's her turn to fucks with it.
Lexa stands a foot in front of her as she leans against the back of this newfound torture chamber. It might as well be called the chokey because she feels like if she moves metal spikes would stab her in submission. She takes a deep breath to calm her heart beating to A$AP ROCKY- fuckin' problems.
'I love bad bitches that my fuckin problem' She raps to herself coaxing confidence with humor as per usual thanks for Raven.
In her heels Clarke is taller than Lexa today and she takes full advantage of this fact. Despite her heart's fuckin' problem, she lowers her bag off of her shoulder to the floor and steps closer to Lexa, closer than she should be. Making sure Lexa feels her presence she lets out a heavy breath and hums.
"mmhm" she hums right behind her ear noticing Lexa stiffen as she returns her weight on both of her legs straightening up. Clarke smiles at her effect almost losing her confidence when Lexa suddenly turns her head and sees the artist positioned inches away from her backside.
Damn. The elevator ascends to the second floor.
Clarke takes this moment to take inventory of her smell; it's definitely one of her favorites. She tries to think what she can do to mirror her last experience in this elevator with Lexa and perhaps one up it. Clarke lifts her hand to brush Lexa's hair that has fallen down her back and attempts to push it over her left shoulder like she usually has it. As she does, she puts the tiniest amount of pressure against her back and traces her fingers along pushing her hair passed the threshold. She leans just enough to graze her chest against her back and lowers her face to the same position Lexa had hers near her neck. Clarke exhales through her nose hovering barely touching her skin and transitions into a deep inhale. Clarke's breath is steady, her skin tingles, and all ulterior motives fade away as her scent fills her up in the way a dry well embraces heavy rain.
The elevator ascends passed the third floor.
She swears she hears a whimper coming from Lexa's throat, which fuels her confidence to whisper, "Better?"
Clarke witnesses her cheek rise and she is sure she has her smiling. She gasps when she feels Lexa lean back into her chest and is surprised that she keeps her ground. Clarke doesn't want to step back, she in fact feels the urge to grab her hips and pull her even closer.
"Now it is" Lexa says as she turns her head further to where Clarke can see her plush lips remain parted, her bottom lip glistens from being tucked in her mouth.
Ding
The elevator dings at the fourth floor, the doors open.
Clarke swallows, immediately pulling her hands away from Lexa's hips that were millimeters from pressing down. She retreats back into the wall, lifts her bag off the ground and back onto her shoulder.
Monty hops in with out acknowledging his interruption, "Hey Clarke!"
Clarke clears her throat, "Hi Monty, ready for today?" she braces herself up by the railing that digs into her lower back.
Lexa runs her hand through her hair a few times straightening up excessively.
"Oh god yes, I am more than ready. I've been shopping and gathering fabrics for months. I'm ready to dress these lesbians." He laughs flapping his hand down in the air breaking his wrist to let it flop.
He turns noticing Lexa beside him, "Wehell… and you must be one of them. You're gorgeous, let me look atchew girl."
Lexa smiles at Monty's antics turning toward him glad to have a distraction from the heat between her thighs.
"My name is Lexa and you are the costume designer I presume?" She extends her hand.
"I'll be the one making your ass look good in dem jeans, it's a pleasure!" He grabs her fingers giving her the flimsiest handshake Clarke has ever seen. This makes her chuckle coercing Lexa to look at her with a growing smile. One Clarke hasn't seen before, she would say it's a shy smile that has a sureness to it. She likes it.
"As if she needs help in that department Monty…" With his flamboyant presence Clarke uses his curtails to propel her ahead of the game.
The elevator arrives at the fifth floor at the perfect moment giving Clarke the opportunity to exit gracefully, she steps forward, puts her hands on both of their wrists to part the tide and struts her hips as she walks away turning her head with a wink.
Nailed it. She grins to herself as she continues her long strides toward the conference room.
"Damn!" Monty looks after her and turns to Lexa, "Looks like she doesn't need help in that department either huh Lexa?" He finds her mouth open and not moving from her position inside the elevator. Monty stands outside the precipice in his tightly tailored suit, pants high watered to show off his Gucci loafers.
"I'd ask if you're coming but it seems that you already have," he laughs before following the blazing trail that Clarke had left behind her.
Lexa shakes her head, stepping out of the elevator to follow Monty. "Hey Monty" She catches up to him.
"Yes mon chéri?"
"Do you know Clarke?" she tries to sound less eager than she actually is.
"oui, I do. We have been friends for a few years. Why do you ask?"
They walk through the doors held open by the oompa loompas and find that the whole room has been cleared besides a foldout table in front of the storyboard wall.
"Oh nevermind" She manages to say before splitting off to join the cast near the wall opposite of the table.
The table houses four fold out chairs where Indra, Finn, Monty and Wick, the production designer, are sitting. Clarke notices that there isn't a chair for her and wonders why she has to attend this read through if she can't even sit and sketch.
"Clarke" Indra calls her over.
She sets her bag down under the storyboard and walks over to Indra leaning in, "Yes Indra?"
"You will be walking around the cast today as they move. Monty will most likely be walking around with you after he, Finn and Wick discuss the characters' style and the over all tone of the film. Go ahead and sketch silhouettes of each cast member and have your markers ready to loosely interpret Monty's direction. He will join you around the room when he is ready."
Clarke nods retreating to her bag to get her sketchpad, Prisma markers and pens. She wonders how she can hold all of her supplies as she walks around the room looking at herself for a solution. She is wearing a skinny belt with her dress pants so she decides she can some how tuck her markers in it like a tool belt. Clarke gets a great idea, dragging her bag out from behind the table and into the open. She looks across the room and sees Lexa in casual conversation but glancing towards her. Deciding to keep this thing going with out any clear goal in mind, she slowly unbuckles her belt while looking under hooded eyes back towards her. She sees Lexa look around the room as if to see if anyone else is witnessing this. Clarke smirks and loosens her belt by one notch so she can fit the width of the markers snug in between her belt and hip. At this moment she is glad that Mr. Blake isn't here because the only eyes she wants on her are green. Clarke has a huge set of markers in her bag, so she turns and carefully shows off her ass by bending down, crouching her knees to choose her favorite colors along with the colors she thinks would suffice for beach style attire. She turns and finds Lexa absent-mindedly nodding to Costia while sneaking peaks toward Clarke just like she wants her to. The artist continues her display and takes her spiral bound sketchpad placing it between her thighs, takes her thin black pen that she will be using and tucks it between her teeth, and very deliberately begins to wedge her thick markers in her belt. She lifts her gaze from her task only a few times to make sure Lexa is still watching—she is.
Clarke's smirk still pulls at her lips as she nonchalantly lifts her blouse up showing a sliver of her stomach to place the last of the markers in her makeshift holster. Once she situates her self, making sure the markers are somewhat secure, she grabs her clip off her bag and proceeds to put her hair up. She knows her shirt is short and purposefully stares at Lexa as she lifts her arms up, shirt rising above her belly button, to twist her hair out of her face. She notices Lexa biting her lip staring at the exposed skin when she catches Clarke staring right at her with a smile and with that she turns bright red. Gotcha.
Triumphant, the artist takes the pen out from her lips smiles wide pushing her tongue against her front teeth in a playful grin and grabs her sketchpad from between her legs. She opens it to a new page and starts to sketch silhouetted figures to await the drapes of color she will add per Monty's instruction.
