Chapter 8/12
Clarke watched for a moment as Bruce twitched an ear, as he shifted a little and as his tail seemed to twitch just a bit.
"Are you going to stop moving?" she asked, and she watched as he turned to look over his shoulder, head tilted enough that an ear seemed to hang haplessly. "I take that as a yes," and so Clarke smiled just a little as she continued to pull the brush through his hair.
Clarke winced a little as she found a knot, she whispered an apology as Bruce whimpered a little and she scratched behind his ear as he settled onto the floor, his eyes beginning to peer outside as he took in the falling of the snow and the sun that seemed to melt it just a little before it touched the ground.
"I don't think I'm going to let you outside again for a while, Bruce," Clarke whispered. "I'm not doing this again," and she tried pulling out another frozen knot before giving up with a sigh.
Bruce perked up though, and Clarke smiled a little sadly as he looked back at her once more, his tongue lolling to the side at her mention of outside.
"No," and she laughed a little as his mouth snapped shut. "I didn't mean you got to go out again," and she thought she saw him pout a little. "I'm sorry," and she ruffled his head a little as she began pulling the brush through his hair once more.
Clarke sighed again though, and she worried her lip, she felt the pressure begin to build behind her eyes and she knew she sensed the emotions that began bubbling to the surface.
"The hospital got back to me," she said after a breath held too long. "They agreed to let you come," and she wiped away a tear. "So you be on your best behaviour, ok?" and Bruce met her gaze, his eyes turning quiet as a paw reached out and feathered her knee. "I don't want you breaking anything," and Clarke smiled as Bruce shuffled over and licked her palm.
And it hurt. Clarke was sure it would, she was sure it would pain her to see Bruce with Lexa, to see Bruce stare at her. And perhaps Clarke wasn't sure whether Bruce would understand, and Clarke didn't know. She couldn't. But she hoped that Bruce would sense that Lexa wasn't ignoring him, wasn't treating him like he had broken something, had done something bad.
"I'm sorry," Clarke whispered out quietly.
But perhaps this time Clarke wasn't sure what she apologised for.
Lexa sighed forcefully, her eyes moving back and forth as she warred with the decision, with the choice and the emotions and panic she felt clawing at her heart. She grimaced a little as she took in the way the light shone off its edge, she grimaced at the way it seemed to catch the light and dance before her eyes.
And it wasn't that she thought it not attractive. It wasn't that she didn't know the answer to her question. And it wasn't that she knew Clarke wouldn't like it. But she knew her mind seemed a little dazed. If only because she wished for it to be perfect, for it to be as good as it could be.
But Lexa steeled herself. She grit her teeth and she thought she felt an idea solidify, she thought she felt it harden, sharpen to a point and focus her worries into images of futures and years to come.
And so Lexa nodded once. She nodded twice, eyed the ring for another long moment and then smiled at the woman before her.
"When are you asking?" the woman asked.
"Soon," Lexa said simply as she began looking through her purse.
"Clarke will like it," the woman said. "She already does," and the woman nodded as she reached under the counter. "I always suggest that if both know they want to get married that it's a good idea to discuss the ring first, before making any decisions about buying it."
"Yeah," and Lexa felt an excitement begin to build as the woman placed the ring in its box, her hand reaching for a small cloth.
"Does she know you're planning it?"
"No," and Lexa worried her lip. "I've been taking her out every now and then, trying to keep her on her toes," and she smiled a little as she saw the woman gasp a little in mock shock.
"Poor Clarke," and the woman laughed quietly as she began to polish the ring carefully.
"She got really excited the first time," Lexa said as she looked away, a smile beginning to spread. "But then she got mad when we just went to bed."
"I can imagine."
"She just looked at me. I could feel her eyes drilling into me for an hour."
"How many times did you do this?" the woman asked, eyebrow raising.
"Three times."
"That's evil," the woman sighed as she rotated the ring carefully.
"It is," and Lexa did feel a little remorseful. "But next week will make up for it."
"It will," the woman smiled as she spun the box around to face Lexa.
And so Lexa let her gaze fall to the ring, to the way the band shone brightly, to the way the gold seemed to border on a silver, seemed to shimmer through the golden hues. And Lexa swallowed a little tightly as she eyed the way the sapphire glinted and shone and seemed to float in place.
"It's beautiful," and Lexa looked up to see the woman eyeing her easily. "She'll love it," the woman said.
"I hope so," Lexa said.
"She will."
"Thank you," Lexa said simply, her mind already turning to the days to come.
"You're welcome."
Lexa's finger tapped against her desk, her mind turning over and over and over. And she knew she felt excitement, she knew she felt a little nervous. And she hadn't felt this way in an age. She hadn't felt this thrill that seemed to rage through her body since she had played hockey. And she recognised it for what it was. She recognised it for the thrill and the excitement for the unknown, for not knowing how things would play out, but she knew she had prepared, she knew she had rehearsed, had planned and strategised and executed plan after plan.
"Lex," and she looked up to see Anya walking to her, a stack of folders in her hand. "You need to sign these before the contract can get started."
"All of them?"
"Yes," Anya said as she placed them down in front of her. "Don't shoot the messenger," Anya finished as she raised her hand sup.
Lexa's eyes darted to the clock though, and she gauged how much time she would need to take, how much time she had left.
"What's up?" Anya asked as she narrowed her eyes.
Lexa sighed then, she pulled her gaze from the clock and she leant back in her chair, hand snaking into her coat pocket as she thumbed over the warm velvet box.
"I'm doing it, tonight."
"That's no way to talk about Clarke."
"That's not what I meant," Lexa said simply, but she was sure her eyebrow twitched a little at Anya's words.
"Then wha—" but Anya's eyes narrowed further. "Oh."
"Yeah," Lexa said with a smirk.
"It's on you?" Anya asked as she eyed the way Lexa's hand remained in her pocket.
"Yeah," Lexa said. "I can feel it burning into me," and she swallowed.
"You aren't freaking out?"
"Not really," Lexa shrugged. "I'm a little nervous, but I'm good," she said. "I know Clarke will say yes, and I think it's good we've discussed things," and she smiled. "So maybe I'm nervous because I want things to go smoothly. But the outcome's not something I'm worried about."
"That's good," Anya nodded.
"Yeah," Lexa said, and she was sure a smile must have been spreading across her lips by the way Anya's eyes rolled.
"Good luck," Anya said. "Call me if she dumps you," Anya laughed. "I've always wanted to know someone who got turned down."
"Thanks," and Lexa rolled her eyes as Anya nodded once before turning to leave, the sounds of her chuckles seeping out around them.
Lexa eyed the box in her hands for a long moment, her eyes tracing the way the light seemed to turn it a shade of purple if she held it just right. She smiled and she thought she felt herself begin to vibrate with an excitement as she listened to the sounds of the shower and the splashing water that echoed out from behind the closed door.
She sighed once more before tucking the box into her purse, careful to keep it covered and then she rose from the side of the bed, the cold of the floorboards prickling her feet as she padded her way to the bathroom. And she smiled as she slipped inside, the heat of the steam warming her body and soothing her nerves as she let her eyes fall to Clarke who smiled at her through the glass of the shower door.
"What were you doing?" Clarke asked, her voice carrying over the water.
"Nothing," Lexa shrugged as she leant against the door for a moment, eyes happy to wander.
"Nothing?" and Clarke's eyebrow raised slightly.
"Nothing," Lexa said, her eyes moving downwards just a little.
"Are you going to just stare?" Clarke challenged as she rolled her eyes. "Or are you going to join me?" and Clarke let her hands fall to her side.
"Oh, I don't know," Lexa shrugged as she pushed off the door. "I'm happy to take this all in," and she laughed as Clarke rolled her eyes again.
And so Lexa smiled more brightly, more fully. Her fingers moved quickly as she stripped, and she smiled and gasped a little at the heat as she stepped into the shower.
And she enjoyed this. She enjoyed the feel of Clarke's body pressed against her, she enjoyed the heat of the water, she enjoyed the way Clarke pressed her lips to her collar, and she enjoyed the way the glass felt pressed against her back as Clarke pushed forward, as her hands began to explore and as the sounds of her breathing filled the air.
Lexa smiled and pressed her lips to the back of Clarke's neck as the blonde continued to button her coat. And Lexa inhaled a little then, she let the perfume Clarke wore wind its way through her mind and settle into her thoughts as she felt Clarke shiver just a little at her wandering lips.
"You look lovely," Lexa whispered as she met Clarke's gaze in the mirror.
"You do, too," Clarke blushed.
But Lexa thought she must have looked dull in comparison to Clarke. She thought her hair must have looked muted when Clarke's shone, when it caught the light and shimmered happily with each movement Clarke made. She even thought her eyes not so bright, not so catching in comparison to Clarke's. And she was sure. She was sure it must be so as she met Clarke's gaze, as she saw the laughter in the blue, as she saw the depths in the barest hints of green she sensed.
"You're beautiful," Lexa said quietly as she kissed under Clarke's jaw briefly.
"You're in a happy mood tonight," Clarke whispered as she turned and let her nose brush against Lexa's own.
"Tonight's special," Lexa said simply, a smirk finding its way across her lips.
"Tonight?" Clarke questioned quietly, her eyebrows raising for a moment in uncertainty before narrowing. "No," Clarke said simply.
"No?" Lexa smiled as she took a step back from Clarke, hands running down the front of her own deep red coat as she checked herself over briefly.
"Don't you dare play this game again," Clarke challenged, her chin lifting.
"I don't know what you're talking about," but she did. She felt her smile return, and she couldn't help but feel the thrill bleed into her heart.
"Lexa," Clarke said, eyes trying to search Lexa's face.
And so Lexa simply smiled more fully, hands reaching for Clarke as she turned for the door.
"Come on Clarke. We'll be late."
The lights seemed to cut through the snow that fell softly, gently, with a mind of its own. And Lexa loved it. She loved the way the cold chilled her face, the way it made her seem alive, the way it made her breathe more deeply. And she smiled as she brought Clarke closer to her, as they continued to walk over the iced ground underfoot and as they made their way to the restaurant and its glowing sign that seemed to beckon them forward.
And she smiled at Clarke's silence, she smiled at the way Clarke seemed to shift a little with each step, and Lexa thought she knew Clarke sensed the difference this time. She thought she sensed the eagerness, the unwillingness to wait for whatever was to come.
And she loved it.
Lexa's fork clinked against the plate lightly, Clarke's did too. But she didn't quite remember what the food tasted like. She didn't quite remember what drink she sipped from. And she knew it would have been nice. She knew it was nice. That it was delicious, that it would be something she may come back to in years to come. But for right now. For this very moment she thought she couldn't even try to focus on much more than the way Clarke looked at her, the way the blonde seemed to hold her gaze, the way her eyes would follow the movements of her hand or eye each plate brought in front of her carefully, or the way she would peer into each wine glass for a long moment before taking a bite or sip.
"How was your day?" Lexa asked simply.
"You know," Clarke said, eyes turning back to hers.
"But I'd like you to tell me again," Lexa said, her chin raising, an eyebrow raising.
"Come on, Lex," Clarke whispered as she eyed the way Lexa's hand disappeared under the table for a moment.
"What?" Lexa asked as she blinked a few times in confusion.
"I hate you," Clarke said simply.
"I love you, too," Lexa smiled.
The drive seemed a little slower now. It seemed to go for long enough that Lexa could feel the thrill really take hold, really bring a gentle shake to her fingers. And she knew she sensed Clarke's slight annoyance now, she knew she sensed Clarke's acceptance that the night hadn't gone the way she had anticipated. But Lexa didn't mind. She didn't mind.
And she didn't mind because she knew the next turn would change the night. And she knew that turning left would take them home, would take them to the warmth of their shared bed, to the warmth of Clarke's embrace and the tickles of Clarke's hair that would brush against her face.
But Lexa also knew that turning right would lead them away from their home. She knew it would lead them to the lake, and she knew the fires would already burn at its edge. She knew the fires would glow, would catch on the mist that rose from the lake's surface and would set the ice aflame in the moonlight that settled around them.
And she knew Clarke would know.
And so she slowed her car, she eyed the traffic, and she smiled as she heard the gasp and the intake of breath as she started to pull the car right, as she tried to ignore the smile that spread across her lips and to the squeal she knew she heard Clarke try to stifle as realisation dawned on the blonde.
Lexa almost couldn't quite hold back the laugh as Clarke exited the car even before it had come to a stop. But she knew Clarke knew now, and so, as Clarke pulled their skates free, as she began moving down to the lake's edge without Lexa, she felt her fingers really tremble, she felt her heart really begin to beat.
And so Lexa's hand fell to her pocket, she thumbed the small box and she let her breaths turn even, she let them soothe her mind and she tried to focus on the words she wanted to say, on the words she knew she had to voice.
And she loved it.
Clarke clung to her, Clarke's arm held her hand firmly, and she could feel the way the blonde shadowed her motions as they moved across the ice, as they drifted back and forth, the only sounds to reach them, the only sounds to break their quiet moment being the gentle scrape of metal against frozen lake.
"It's beautiful," Clarke whispered as she looked up into the sky
And Lexa thought it was. She thought the way the moon danced with the mist beautiful, she thought the way the flames had spread out around them, carried by the mist, beautiful. She thought the reflection of the little light this far out onto the lake beautiful. And most of all she thought Clarke beautiful.
"It is," Lexa whispered as she looked to Clarke.
And she knew Clarke knew. She knew Clarke felt what was to come.
And so Lexa smiled, just a little thing, just enough that her lips lifted a little, that her cheek twitched just slightly.
"You're beautiful," Lexa whispered as she began to slow their motion forward, as her hand thumbed over the small box in her pocket.
And Lexa took in the lake once more. She took in the way the edges of the lake bled into the darkness, she took in the way the fires that dotted the lake's edge glowed gently, and she took in the way the flames seemed to flicker and dance in the distance as the wind breathed around them softly.
And most of all, Lexa took the time to memorise the way she felt. She took the time to sear the images she saw into her mind. And she took the time to meet Clarke's gaze, to eye the way the blonde seemed to breathe just a little breathlessly now, the way her lips parted ever so slightly, and the way her eyes seemed to dart back and forth as they shared a breath.
"I love you," Lexa whispered as she turned, as she let herself begin to glide backwards across the ice as she held onto Clarke's hand. "I love you," and Clarke swallowed tightly, and Lexa felt her eyes water just a little, just enough that she knew she cared. "I love you," Lexa reached into her pocket once more.
"Lexa," Clarke whispered, her eyes following the motions of her hand.
"I love you, Clarke," and Lexa waited until they came to a stop, until all that surrounded them was the ice and the flaming mist and the glow of a faraway moon.
Lexa took in one deep breath, she closed her eyes and the let herself smile more fully than she thought she had ever done before.
"I love you," Lexa repeated. And it was simple. It was the easiest thing she had said. It was the easiest truth she had admitted. But most importantly? It was the truth.
And so Lexa knelt down slowly, her eyes not leaving Clarke's, and she smiled. She blinked once, just enough that the wetness that seemed to cling to her eyes cleared enough that she could gaze upon Clarke fully. And it was cold. The ice met her knee with a bite and a chill. But Lexa didn't mind, she couldn't mind. Couldn't even really consider it.
Her hand came free then, and she knew her heart beat in her chest with a ferocity that raged her pulse.
And she smiled as Clarke's eyes closed for a long moment, as Clarke's lips trembled, and as Clarke laughed a choked sound as Lexa opened the box carefully.
And perhaps Lexa imagined it, perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her.
But Lexa was sure she saw the moon's light dance on Clarke's face as the blonde's eyes fell onto the ring, as her eyes widened and as she began to cry.
And Lexa Woods didn't mind that she found herself crying, too.
Because she loved Clarke Griffin.
Clarke took in a deep breath and she held it for so long that she thought her lungs would burst and burn and shrivel inside her. Bruce whimpered besides her too. And Clarke was sure Bruce could smell Lexa now, she was sure Bruce could sense the other woman just behind the door. And Clarke hoped and pleaded that Bruce would understand, could understand what had happened.
But all she had was hope.
And so she pushed the door open carefully, and perhaps she couldn't help but smile just a little as Bruce tried rushing into the room, as Bruce tugged on his leash and as he tried fighting his way to where Lexa lay on the bed.
Clarke closed the door, and she winced as the leash cut into her palm a little. But perhaps she needed that physical pain, if only so that it could distract from the hurt she felt searing into her mind.
Bruce made it to Lexa's side though, and Clarke felt the tears begin to fall as Bruce rose up on his hind legs, as he reached forward and whimpered as he licked Lexa's face. Or whatever parts of it he could reach through the tubes and wires that seemed to be a part of Lexa now.
And maybe Clarke should have tried to stop Bruce, should have pulled him free lest he damage something. But she was selfish. And so for just a moment she let Bruce feel the pain she felt herself.
And it hurt. It hurt her to see the realisation dawn on Bruce, it hurt her to see his enthusiasm turn to confusion. And it hurt Clarke to see Bruce begin to whimper, begin to paw gently at Lexa's arm.
And Clarke wasn't surprised when her vision blurred fully as her shoulders shook. And it didn't surprise her when Bruce became gentle, when he leapt onto Lexa's bed cautiously, carefully.
And it hurt Clarke to see Bruce look back to her with tears in his eyes before he laid his head across Lexa's chest as he licked her just once more.
And it hurt.
"I know, Bruce," Clarke whispered to him. "I miss her too."