Hey guys! Time to catch up with the hockey squad!
This chapter is a bit fluffier than the previous one, I hope you'll like it!
The air is particularly harsh, even for a January day. Clarke spends ten minutes in front of her suitcase wondering whether she should put two jackets on or just a thicker coat instead.
She can already hear Raven laughing as soon as she steps around the corner of the hall, and into the lobby of the hotel. The girls are in a great mood – Charlie's sitting on Lauren Briggs' lap, Jaime Hurd is telling jokes and goofing around. "So then I told her, 'what the fuck did that dog eat?' and she told me she had no idea so I brought the damn thing to the vet myself, would you believe that?"
"But then what did it eat?" Raven asks, way too involved in the conversation.
"Wait, I'm getting there-"
"But it wouldn't've had the time to eat whatever shit was in the house, if only she baby proofed it before going to Finland! People never think about these things!" Briggs shouts over everyone else, and Hurd gives her a look of agreement.
"Very true", the winger acknowledges. Then, to Clarke, who's dropping her bags beside hers and putting on her scarf. "Oh hey, Griffy."
"Hey guys, what's up?"
"Not much. Reeve has it in her head that everyone must be there for her post-game announcements."
"What kind of announcements?" Clarke asks, curious.
"Oh, probably the usual 'good job speech'. We'll find out once everyone is there."
"And who's missing?"
"Woods."
"What?"
Her voice came out a tad too sharp, and she regrets the tone of urgency it displayed. "Who took care of her yesterday?" She asks, and Raven gets defensive.
"Don't look at me, you should be glad I took you in!" The blue-liner counters, hands risen in submission.
"She was piss drunk! Do not tell me you left her there!" Clarke warms up in anger, already waving her hands around for further emphasis.
Raven senses the tension build around her like the walls of a prison and looks to her teammates for support. "Hurd?"
The winger shrugs. "I mean, I did go to wake her up, but she told me she'd leave later, and then there were ladies with her."
A wave of frustration washes over Clarke, and the scary thing is she doesn't know whether it's due to jealousy or pure guilt. "And how the fuck do you think she got back here?"
"It's a 3-minute walk, Clarke", Raven points out, but she's still sheepish.
"I know, I'm just saying she might've gotten hurt, and before you say she's a responsible adult (she stops Raven just as she's opening her mouth to speak), she's also your captain and your teammate, so next time she is getting drunk in a bar, knock some fucking sense into yourself and bring her back home!" Clarke yells, pointing to each of her astounded teammates.
"I'm sure she got back home alright, Clarke", says Lauren Briggs. "Don't worry – besides, as Jaime said, she wasn't alone."
Yeah, because she needed to be reminded of that. She forcefully drives away thoughts of Lexa being hit on by her fans, but then it only gets worse – she sees Lexa flirting back, and bringing one of them to her room, and kissing her with that cocky half-smile and strong hands to lift her up on a table and take her right then, right there, gasping and bent over and held down and stop stop stop.
"And if she didn't?" Clarke shouts, almost out of breath because now she sees Lexa cross a road and get hit by a car.
If this goes on, she'll have to sit down at some point, and breathe slowly, because she is panicking right now, isn't she? Is this a panic attack? Suddenly her throat is closing up, and nothing can go through, nothing.
"If who didn't what?" A voice behind them blurts, and Clarke closes her eyes angrily, takes a deep breath, for she knows who is behind her – knows, and is both relieved and annoyed by it.
"Well, there she is", Raven declares matter-of-factly.
"Where else could I be?" Lexa asks, puzzled by the question and the level of anger Clarke's gaze now holds.
A moment passes, and then Clarke is rushing towards her abruptly, incapable of controlling her emotions whatsoever. "On fucking time instead of making the whole team wait on you like you're royalty!"
Lexa's gaze is furious at first, but it softens with each passing second because she is not dumb, she knows this is just worry passing behind Clarke's oceanic orbs, she knows Clarke reacts like this when she is scared – because she is starting to know Clarke.
"Alright, then. I woke up late, I snoozed the alarm, shame on me", Lexa grunts sarcastically, arms crossed and slowly advancing towards both Clarke and the door leading to the bus outside.
"I can't even look at you right now", the blonde goalie counters aggressively, picking up her bags and making her way to the door, passing by Lexa in the process and bumping shoulders with her.
"Come on, Griffin", Lexa pleads, annoyed. Then, to her teammates after Clarke leaves the room and is seen through the window as she's entering the bus. "Is she really that mad?"
Everyone nods gravely. "Alright, what's the procedure, Reyes?" Charlie asks, looking at Raven like she's expecting crucial information.
"Well, first, no sudden movements", Raven jokes, turning around to face Lexa. "And oh yeah, next time, make sure you let people take care of you when you're drunk! See, that's convenient, isn't it? Easy to understand and put into practice, one would've thought."
Lexa winces slightly and leaves the hotel, determined to fix this situation.
Clarke doesn't speak to her for the trip back, until Lexa decides to take matters in her own hands and sits beside her. "Did I say something when I was drunk? Is that it?" She gives Clarke a sheepish, hopeful look, and that, just that, hits Clarke deeply in the chest– to see Lexa remorseful, submitted. It is such a rare sight.
"Oh, you said many things", Clarke mumbles, eyes still fixed on the window and the landscape running at it side.
"What did I say?"
"Stop pushing this."
"Goddamnit, Clarke, nobody gets away with giving me the attitude game, you should know that by now!" Lexa downright yells at Clarke, eyes shooting lightning bolts.
"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"
"You don't wanna find out." Lexa tries to look intimidating and from the look she gets from Clarke, it seems she succeeded for once (surprisingly enough).
"Exactly - that's why I'm asking you, very politely, to drop it!"
"It's not considered polite when one is yelling, Clarke!" Lexa barks back, frustrated.
The blonde crosses her arms, stares at the seat in front of her, flustered and still very much annoyed. "What do you want me to say?"
"Why are you so angry with me?" Lexa tries, menacing but calm.
"Because you're an idiot, that's why!" Clarke exclaims, all of a sudden ready to empty her conscience.
"Ha, there it is-" Lexa starts, only to be cut off ferociously.
"No! No, you listen, Alexandria Woods! You wanna know why I'm angry with you? Because you don't fucking care, and you didn't let Hurd bring you back, and then you expect people not to care either, because hey, you're just kicking out your chicks from the penthouse while we're all worried about you!"
When Lexa tries to speak, Clarke cuts her off again. "I'm not done!"
The captain grumbles a bit, but obeys nevertheless.
"You scared the shit out of me", Clarke huffs, voice breaking just a bit.
"Sorry", Lexa apologizes with a kicked puppy look.
"Don't you dare do it again."
"I won't."
"Yeah, you better."
"I'm not complaining, Clarke", Lexa affirms with a half grin.
"Stop that", the blonde complains, rolling her eyes.
Lexa acts surprised, smiles a shit eating grin, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Stop what?"
"You know I can't stay mad at you when you're like that!"
"Exactly, that's called a strategical choice."
"Why don't you tell me about your other strategical choices? Like flirting with chicks instead of bringing your ass back home?"
Lexa's smile falters, and her brows knit into a frown. "That's part of the job, Clarke. Don't you give autographs as well?"
"Yes, but I don't give them on boobs", Clarke replies, not skipping a beat.
"Alright, I don't… I mean, I get it, but what difference does it make?"
"Doesn't it get boring?"
"What?"
"The whole 'hit on a chick, bring her home, kick her out, repeat'?"
"I don't see any problem with that", Lexa affirms.
Clarke bears her gaze into Lexa's - cerulean meets emerald in a dazzling contest, and none of them give ground, both too proud, both too hot heated to submit.
"So you don't get tired of it?"
"No", lies Lexa.
She thinks of Costia.
And suddenly, there are unshed tears trying to creep out in the form of a nasty knot that closes around her throat.
"Like, instead of always having sex, you could also just watch a movie, you know. On the couch, in your pajamas."
It hits Lexa so deeply that she almost winces, and when Clarke turns around, she sees how pretty she is, how pretty – not just hot or attractive, but pretty, gorgeous, a sight in itself, a thing of beauty, a landscape you admire on a hill, a diamond you polish everyday until it's the most exquisite treasure, a delight, a shooting star in a jet-black sky.
From then, until the bus parks beside the arena and spits out a torrent of players, Lexa is deeply confused.
"Y'all listen, I'll be very brief."
Reeve raises a hand to obtain complete silence in the locker-room. "I think each of you ladies gave a hell of a performance. I mean it. I'm really proud of you, and I'm not gonna ask for you to give any more effort today, because hey, hotel beds are so fucking uncomfortable…"
The remark provokes a small chorus of laughs. "So hooray! Get your gear and go home, sit on your couch and eat cake, for all I care."
The whole room comes alive in cheers and pure joy, but Reeve is not done. "One last thing though, and then goodbye. You guys all know the Strikers hockey academy is doing the annual practice with the pros?"
A response of general agreement resonates through the room. "Good. Would anyone be interested in participating?"
Charlie Langton nods towards Clarke. "Isn't Griffin the one who usually does it?"
"Well the kids asked for her and Woods, this year, I was wondering if any of you guys would like to do it in case she doesn't want to?"
Clarke is shocked by those words. She's seen Lexa with Aden, and therefore knows that she's not too bad with kids. "Oh, she'll be happy to do it", the goalie declares confidently.
"Are you sure about that, Griffin?" Reeve asks, hesitant.
"Of course, I'll ask her on my way out if you want."
She mainly wants to force Lexa out of her comfort zone, to make her enjoy herself and have fun instead of always obsessing over practice. She finds her outside of the sports therapist's room, eyeing a sheet filled with various stretching exercises.
"You injured?" Clarke carefully asks, readjusting the strap of her duffel bag on her shoulder.
"Little strain"', Lexa's gaze jerks upward, strict by default – it's the look she has on during faceoffs.
"Oh. So you were going to try them now?"
"Yeah, little session real quick - Ed opened the gym for me", the center casually offers, shrugging.
Clarke sighs, exasperated. "Why don't you just take it down a notch? Coach said no practice today."
"I wasn't there, so let's say it doesn't apply to me", Lexa answers, serious but still displaying the smallest hint of a smile.
"Lexa."
"Clarke."
"Why don't you have fun instead?"
"Gym is fun", Lexa asserts sharply.
"I meant real fun, not obsessive fun."
"Now, now, what are you gonna coax me into doing?"
"The fact that you know I'll succeed amuses me", Clarke grins.
"Just tell me what you want", Lexa whines, rubbing her face tiredly.
Clarke's smile only grows as she suddenly notices how Lexa's gone from intimidating stud to soft teddy bear in a matter of months. "Can you do an activity with me?"
"Depends on what it is, and if it involves wearing something ridiculous or putting on a cucumber mask."
"It does not", Clarke assures, smile still on.
"Well, thank God."
"It does involve little kids, though."
"I knew it was too good to be true", Lexa huffs - arms crossed, gaze wary.
Clarke lets out a cry of despair. "Oh, for God's sake! You love kids!"
"I most certainly do not", Lexa counters, eyes gleaming with frustration.
"I saw you with Aden!"
"He's my nephew, of course I like him!"
"And that kid you brought to the game with his dad!"
"I didn't interact with him", Lexa points out, always the diplomat.
"Tomayto, tomahto."
"I am incapable of being nice to kids, Clarke, they're all scared of me."
"You are basically a kitten."
"Would you stop calling me that?!"
"Never."
"Ask Pam Reed if a kitten could've pummeled her like I did", the center grunts with gritted teeth.
"Alright, alright, don't get all worked up! All I'm saying is they asked for you, Lexa."
Her frustrated expression turns into a mainly puzzled one. "Asked?"
"Yes", Clarke assures with a satisfied nod.
"I am atrocious with kids, Clarke, I'll only make them sad."
Clarke sighs again, frustrated. "I'm telling you, they asked for you!"
"Well, then, what do I do?"
"Oh my god, you just come and you have a good time with them, and they'll be excited just to be around you. You're like Wonder Woman to them, or something."
"Well, what if they realize that I'm all clumsy or cold with them, and then they're all sad because Wonder Woman is not as chill as they thought?"
"Alright, deep breaths, Lexa. You go there, you smile, you wave, you say hello. That's all."
"Looks like you pulled this out of a book called Recipe for Awkwardness", Lexa complaints, looking suspicious.
"Lex, come on, you're 5"7, they're about yea high – chances are they won't even see your face properly."
"Okay."
"Wow, I didn't think you'd fall for that. That was like my last attempt."
"I know, it's pitiful", Lexa deplores with a disgusted expression.
But she's agreeing nevertheless, isn't she? And that makes Clarke smile again. "Come on, tiger. Gotta face this next challenge of yours. Ooh, kids! Scared shitless! I can't even breathe!"
"Clarke Griffin, I swear-"
"9-1-1, this is Lexa Woods, there are toddlers everywhere and I'm having a serious panic attack, and oh dear lord – one of them is currently grabbing my leg, it's a matter of seconds before he's ripping it apart."
"You know, I hate you sometimes", growls Lexa, following suit and accompanying Clarke towards the hall.
"Only sometimes? Shit, that's big step-up!"
"I deem you unworthy of my attention for the moment, Clarke. Thought I'd let you know."
The kids are not that young, actually – some are nine, others are twelve. They all know how to skate properly, how to shoot or tend the goal, and boy do they know who Clarke Griffin is. Reed doesn't even need to introduce her to the group – she just enters the room and generates gasps and noises of enthusiasm. "So, Clarke will be teaching you guys a few of her secret tricks", Reeve declares to the young goalies already dressed in uniform, barely able to contain their excitement.
"But don't tell anyone. It's a secret." Clarke jokes, exemplifying her words with a 'shhh' motion from the index finger.
Lexa's entrance generates such a turmoil it's almost otherworldly. Little boys and girls are looking at each other, their faces the setting of gigantic grins, eyes filled with wonder, and their feet tapping in excitement.
"You guys know who this lady is?" Reeve asks, and the kids reply with screams.
"Lexa Woods!" Exclaims a little girl whose smile is so big it barely fits her face.
"The Commander!" An older boy adds, with a ceremonious bowing motion.
Lexa laughs, already at ease – and Clarke forgets she even heard her express initial discomfort. She's casual and confident, as usual.
"What's your name, young man?" the brunette asks with a half grin, and the little boy flushes instantly.
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"Oh. Uh, it's Adam, ma'am."
"Drop the ma'am, we're not in the military last I checked."
Clarke cannot help but smile at Lexa's poise.
"What position are you, Adam?" the forward asks, with a reassuring smile.
"Center", he replies, but Clarke swears she heard and saw him gulp before the answer could even escape his lips.
"No way! My favorite position!" Lexa exclaims with a smile.
"I know, right", Clarke laughs from the other side of the room, while reuniting all her little goalies to soon jump on the ice.
"Be sure to get your gear and follow!" Reeve orders, then runs to fetch a stick that was left behind and gives it back to its owner, a tiny boy who mustn't be older than nine.
They take their practice run with the kids, Lexa showing off her speed and agility in front of their astonished eyes (and Clarke's mildly exasperated glance).
The blonde goalie has a front row seat when it comes to witnessing Lexa's charisma and cute manners with the kids, how she lifts the small ones back up when they fall, how she makes sure to treat them like big boys and big girls to make them proud. "So if I'm coming up to the net, look - hey, I'm on a breakaway! What is Clarke going to do?"
"Stop the puck", says a little girl matter-of-factly.
"Yes, Sally, great deduction", replies Lexa with a grin, and only Clarke appears to notice that she is half sarcastic – and gives her a subtle look of judgement.
"Apart from that?" the center continues, now drifting towards the goal and picking up a puck on her way there.
"Outplay her", Adam declares, shrugging.
"Uh huh, outplay her… What is Clarke trying to do to make the save?"
"Know where you're going to shoot!" blurts a voice in the back of the group.
"Bam! Got it!" Lexa exclaims. "Was that Kenny? Nice one!"
She brings the puck in front of her and plays with it, dangles it around to try to confuse Clarke, who's watching closely. "Basically, Clarke is not moving yet if I'm coming in from the front, but if I'm coming from the sides – and that's something I like to do in a breakaway – she'll be matching my speed. It's sort of a game of who moves first, because look-"
Lexa slides the puck on one side, which makes Clarke copy the movement and give the start of a push – yet that was only a bluff, and Lexa immediately brings the puck back to the opposite direction, then snipes it in the open net. "I'm giving her directions, just the small twitch of the stick or a turn… Anything to make her move, because if she stays right there in the net, she can stack the pads, she can catch it – Clarke, give us a piece of that glove, would you?"
The goalie smiles through the grid of her mask and sets herself in position, then traps Lexa's wrist shot like it's no big deal – except it is a big deal, but she does it all the time, despite Lexa's pucks easily topping sixty-five miles per hour.
The kids react with a chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahs'. "There, so you want to fit that puck at the sides, force her to leave a chunk of her net open."
The kids are so serious it's adorable – the way they give little nods of acknowledgement, keep their gaze steady and make sure not to miss a word of Lexa's orders. "Three main options, there – snipe, backhand, and pads. Now, you know your shot. Don't try to slip it in the five-hole unless your shot is really that good. I know some of you want to keep it simple, you're stressed, you don't know what the heck you're supposed to do…"
She almost said hell, but quickly recovered and the kids saw nothing there. "Just think that breakaways are stressful for both the players and the goalie, therefore you wanna tease them, pull these mind strings, force them to move first. Clarke, a word for the little goalies?"
Clarke nods and pulls up her mask, sliding around the net to casually lean on its frame. "Alright, listen up! Remember what we said earlier about things like matching the speed, avoiding unnecessary moves and staying in their space all along. Don't get all stressed, I see you guys – you're thinking 'damn, I gotta impress her'. At the end of the day, it is just a game, it's not the end of the world if you give the goal."
Lexa smiles at that, impressed at how comfortable Clarke is with the kids.
"Now, Eric goes first! Who wants to shoot?" the blonde asks, settling beside the end boards to freely watch the plays.
"Me!" Yells a young girl who's probably ten or eleven.
Lexa leans forward to give her cues. "Remember - watch his movements at all times."
She scores on a wobbly shot that climbs over the left pad after she slid around to force a push out of the young goalie. When Clarke sees disappointment shine through his gaze, she comforts her protégé. "Hey, learning experience! It's alright! Do you know how many goals I give in a year?"
The boy shakes his head in negation, already losing his hunched shoulders and gloomy pout.
"A whole lot, that is. Lexa scores on me all the time, do you think I get mad?" She adds, pointing towards the center who can't help but feel a prickling sensation in her guts.
Again, little Eric shakes his head. "Do I have another chance?" He asks, pleading and the cuteness is melting Clarke's heart.
"Of course you do, honey!" She assures, gesturing towards the next offensive player to come forward.
Eric makes a nice save with the tip of the blocker, and looks at Clarke adoringly when she compliments him. "Yes, that's what I'm talking about! Great job on that positioning, keep working on that-"
Lexa watches as Clarke skulls forward and into the slot for further explanation. "When you get to the top, try to set yourself right away because otherwise you'll be drifting when it's time to receive the shot."
She curves her feet to secure her stance and stays perfectly static. "See? Better, right?"
"Yeah!" Exclaims the little goalie with a smile, and he leaves the net to his teammate. They carry on with the breakaway plays, until Adam comes forward, last but not least.
"Hold on, Griffin", Lexa requests. "Would you take his shot?"
"Sure", Clarke replies, moving to gain control of her net.
The young center's face is priceless – his eyes widen, his mouth drops open as he realizes he is about to face one of his favorite hockey players. "Really?" He asks, unsure as to how he can hope to compete with such a living legend.
"Just do your best", Lexa advises.
Off he goes, with good speed and as much confidence as he can muster – he even does a little toe drag and tries to bury the backhand, and Clarke purposely lets it fly past her shoulder without entirely raising the glove.
"Damn, son! You gotta show me your tricks, someday!" Lexa shouts, winking at the astounded little boy who can only grin.
Clarke's heart soars when she sees Lexa fist bump her little apprentice, and stay on the ice with him a minute or two after practice to talk and exchange over hockey techniques. "Don't stop playing, alright? There's something there, you just have to develop it."
Lexa doesn't give praise often - but when she does, it's well deserved.
"Admit that you had fun", Clarke teases while snapping open the buckles of her pads in the locker room.
"I did, actually", Lexa declares with a shrug.
"So…?" The goalie trails, hands slightly raising upward.
"So, what?"
"So, you also admit that I was right?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake", Lexa mutters under her breath, but she can't help the smile drawing along her lips.
"I didn't catch that?"
"Yes, you were right, Clarke. There. Happy, now?"
"Very", assures the blonde, grinning.
She then settles on a bench near Lexa, watches as the center removes the remaining pieces of equipment – shoulder guard, elbow pads and shin protectors. "I saw your sister waiting for you in the stands."
"Yeah, she's picking me up."
"What's her name again?"
"Anya."
"Nice. And why are you keeping your skates?"
Lexa looks at her in vague incomprehension. "Uh, bringing Aden on the ice, why?"
"Just curious."
Clarke later tries to convince herself that watching Lexa bending over and carrying Aden two inches over the ice wouldn't have an effect on her – yet here she is, almost weak in the knees, eyes shining with adoration, grin devastatingly big.
"She always says she's bad with kids", says a voice behind her.
When she turns around, searching for its origin, she finds Anya leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and playful half grin.
"Yeah, and look at her." Clarke nods toward the tall silhouette hovering benevolently over the toddler, making sure he's not falling or hurting himself in any way.
"You must think it funny how she's so full of shit with everyone and then takes her little voice whenever there are children around", Anya chuckles, green eyes darting away almost nostalgically.
"Indeed", Clarke replies, and wonders if she can say what she wants to say, then thinks fuck it, and says it anyway. "Is she like this with everyone?"
"Is she like what? An arrogant jackass?"
Clarke wants to deny that last affirmation, but she doesn't have time to speak, for Anya continues on. "No, she's not. I mean, she can be annoying from time to time, but I'm her family, and she values family a lot."
"I'd like to see her all nice and friendly", Clarke admits out loud, then immediately regrets it but Anya's smile only enlarges.
"Oh, but darling, that's how she is with you!" The woman exclaims, giggling.
"What?"
"If you think she's bad with you, you should see how she is with my ex-husband! God, I'm lucky she didn't get arrested."
"That bad?" Clarke asks, puzzled as to how the Lexa she knows – inoffensive, witty, loyal, could turn hostile with someone. Then again, she's seen her fight Pam Reed, therefore knows she's capable of some upsetting things.
"Let's say she can get protective. But she's a little puppy when she's around you - I saw her earlier today, following you around, smiling all the time."
"Well, we've grown to be buddies."
"She talks about you. Lexa never talks about her teammates."
"Really?"
"Yep. Had to see for myself if you were that awesome."
"Well, I like licorice and Disney movies, I guess that would make me kinda cool."
Anya lets out a little laugh, getting comfortable with the conversation. "Uh huh, and Lexa likes black jellybeans and horror movies, see, it's like the Yin and the Yang."
"What did she say about me?" Clarke cannot help but ask, curious.
Anya seems to ponder for a moment, then relaxes a bit. "That you're a good goalie, for a start."
"Some of it is luck", Clarke admits, slightly flustered.
"Not a lot of it, if you ask me", Anya snaps right back, still grinning.
Then, more serious. "So, for example, when she'd win a game a couple of years ago, she'd come into the house super proud of herself, and she'd say things like 'my backhand looked good, blah blah blah, I was faster than usual, I scored a goal', and whatnot."
"Sounds like her", the goalie mumbles with a sarcastic smile.
"Exactly, that was normal, right? But now, she storms through the kitchen talking about what you did, how 'her goalie pantsed them all', and then when I ask her how she played, she'll be like 'oh, uh, I did a hat trick' and then jump right back to you and how flawless you are."
Clarke is startled by the comment – she didn't know Lexa was that impressed by her, let alone did she know that Lexa spoke about her outside of practice. Then she thinks about Lexa's smiles and laughs, how tiny and awkward and precious she's beginning to look whenever Clarke is in the room, how she's changed for the better since she got into the team, and only then does Clarke reflect on that fact, only then does she ask herself this one question that now seems perfectly called for.
Did she change because of me?
Sure, Lexa still makes cocky comments, still brags about her talent and skill, still likes it when girls are fussing over her, but then why is she always running after Clarke during practice and breaks, why is she trying all of a sudden, trying to make her laugh, trying to get her attention, trying to impress her, trying to make her smile?
Goddamnit. This is giving her a headache.
She's beginning to get lost in her thoughts when Anya brings her back to reality by giving her a soft nudge on the shoulder. "You know what, kid?"
"Huh?" Does Clarke, dumbfounded.
"I know Lexa. She's my baby sis, and I gotta look out for her in case she's about to make bad decisions – which happens a lot, let me tell you. But to be honest, since she got into this team… It's like she's different. Not entirely new, like, I still recognize her and all, but… She's growing up, I think."
Anya pauses for five seconds, her gaze drifting to the ice where Lexa is currently skating backwards, Aden holding onto her hands, as if she wants to make him believe he's going at such a high speed by himself. The little boy is laughing so loud it resonates in the entire skating rink.
"She stopped taking people for granted", the older sister blurts, half confused and half amazed.
The conversation doesn't stop – they speak of other things – yet all Clarke can think of is that last sentence. It resonates in her head like a mantra, and from now on it's like everything is starting to make sense.
That's it for now, stay tuned for the next update!