Lexa lies in bed, unable to sleep. Time zones, she complains to herself, sighing and sitting up. Next to her Clarke shifts, rolling over and facing her bed partner. The peaceful look on her face almost makes up for how difficult she'd been with Lexa only a few hours earlier, when she was arguing with her about what time they would set the alarm clock. Lexa finds herself staring at the blonde, analyzing her delicate features, remembering how they had first met.
They were in a bar called The Ark. A gay bar. Clarke had seen her from across the room, eyes so dangerously intense; so demanding. Lexa had been pulled in immediately, aching with a need to touch this woman's face – to feel the softness of her skin against hers. In between glances and suggestive smirks, they had agreed to fuck. And Lexa had felt her skin and it was explosive and beautiful and reckless.
Now she sits next to her, so close again, but thousands of miles away from the little restroom in The Ark – thousands of miles away from ever touching her again. Clarke's eyes flutter awake, and Lexa turns her gaze away and towards the alarm clock, which reads 3:03 in bright red lights.
Clarke opens her eyes to find a dark figure sitting next to her, the red light of the alarm clock lighting up Lexa's face. Biting her bottom lip, Clarke snuggles into her pillow, but keeps her eyes on the brunette. Her hair cascading down her back, her green eyes focused, her tongue running quickly (nervously) across her bottom lip – she is so beautiful. So well put together; both delicate and rough. Clarke thinks back to when she first saw her.
The night had been long and dull, so when Lexa walked in, sparking up every nerve in Clarke's body, she knew she had to have her. She had to feel her and take her and taste her and fuck her. Her breath caught in her chest and she could hear her heart in her ears every time the brunette glanced her way from across the room. When they were finally skin on skin, Clarke thought she might go up in flames – and she did, over and over.
"Can't sleep either?" Clarke asks, bringing Lexa's attention back to her. She shakes her head. "Time zones," the blonde sighs, sitting up next to her.
"Yeah," Lexa smiles slightly.
"Might as well do something, if we're up," Clarke suggests, turning red when she realizes what the offer sounds like. Lexa swallows hard, wondering if she should decline or pounce her. "Like," Clarke adds quickly, "watch TV."
"Oh," Lexa exclaims. "Yeah, sure." She reaches over to the desk next to the bed and grabs the remote control, only to hand it over to Clarke, who turns on the TV and switches through endless channels of infomercials and old show reruns.
"You like Friends?" Clarke asks.
"Yeah."
They watch in silence for a while until Phoebe starts singing along to Ross's bagpipes, which causes them both to burst into laughter. They relax, then, enjoying the sound of each other's happiness and wondering why that is.
"You know, I actually told Octavia I'd play bagpipes at her wedding," Clarke confesses, laughing.
"No way," Lexa laughs, enjoying this playful side of Clarke. "Do you play?"
"Like shit," Clarke giggles and Lexa does too, both of them finding humor in nothing in the way one does after midnight.
"Oh, god," Lexa exclaims, holding her aching abdomen, her laugh finally settling down.
"You have a beautiful laugh." The words slip out of Clarke's mouth and she regrets them immediately because she sees the spark in Lexa's eyes and she wonders if they're in hers too.
"Thanks," Lexa replies. "You have a beautiful…" the word everything hangs in the air for a while, but, much to Clarke's disappointment, Lexa refuses to make it real. "…laugh as well." Clarke nods, politely, before turning back to watch another episode of Friends.
They laugh together again several more times, but neither compliments the other again, though the words do linger on their lips. The clock now reads 5:57 and Clarke groans, rolling over into her pillow. Lexa turns off the TV and steps off the bed and into the bathroom. In three minutes, the alarm clock beeps annoyingly and Clarke gets up as well.
"Lex!" Lincoln greets her warmly, bringing her in for an embrace. "How was your flight?"
"Fine," Lexa replies, turning around to see where Clarke is. Once she finds her all the way across the lobby with Octavia, she turns back to Lincoln and says, "You're not going to believe what happened when I got to the hotel, though."
"I walked in and she was there!" Clarke exclaims, to which Octavia furrows her brow as if to ask Who?
"The girl I had sex with the other day!" Lexa groans.
"Wait, wait… The one from The Ark? How'd she get here?" Octavia asks Clarke. "Is she a stalker or something?"
"Yeah that's what I thought too," Clarke admits, "but no, she's…"
"…Octavia's maid of honor, apparently," Lexa informs Lincoln.
"Lexa?" Octavia nearly yells in surprise.
"Clarke?" Lincoln laughs.
Both girls turn the other way in response to hearing their names. When they realize the situation, they blush profusely, avoiding eye contact and turning towards their best friends for help instead.
"What the fuck do I do?" Lexa asks, panicking.
"Well what to do you want to do?" Octavia asks Clarke.
"I don't know," they both reply to their best friend.
"Listen, Lex, you don't have to make this a big deal," Lincoln says. "Sure, it's a helluva coincidence, but…"
"…it doesn't mean you have to do anything," Octavia suggests. "You just have to deal with sharing a room for a week."
"But she's so…," Lexa groans.
"…and the sex was so…" Clarke huffs.
"Listen, Clarke," Octavia brings her back. "You're not the relationship type. And from what I know, Lexa hasn't really let anyone in since her last girlfriend – Costia or whateverthefuck – broke her heart. So, if you just want sex, leave it at the one night stand at the Ark. Otherwise, you'll probably just end up hurting the poor girl." Clarke nods, frowning and pouting in defiance, crossing her arms and wrinkling her nose at Octavia.
"I guess you're right," the blonde admits.
"I always am," Octavia smiles, linking arms with her best friend and guiding her towards the hotel restaurant.
"So, Lincoln," Octavia's brother, Bellamy, begins in between omelet bites, "It's very generous of you to pay for this whole pre-wedding honeymoon for all of us."
"Well, we're all about to become a family," Lincoln smiles. "I thought it would be nice if we could start off on the right foot – with a family vacation."
"Plus," Octavia adds, leaning in to her future husband and throwing her arms around him. "The real honeymoon is going to be after the wedding. And none of you are invited." Everyone laughs, except for Bellamy who wrinkles his nose in disgust.
Clarke and Lexa, who are sitting across from each other at the long table, spend the morning with their eyes glued to their food.
"What's first on our agenda, babe?" Octavia asks once everyone has finished.
"I was thinking we could take it easy today since most of us are probably jet-lagged," Lincoln replies. "We can go to the beach and chill, surf, swim… There's some special Hawaiian festival going on today, too."
"Awesome," Jasper, a friend of Octavia's, exclaims, thinking of all the hot tourists in bikinis he won't ask out.
"You can take the bathroom," Clarke offers, feeling a tang of guilt at how rude she'd been the day before. "I'll change out here."
"Thanks," Lexa says simply, slipping into the bathroom and undressing. She puts on her two-piece swimsuit and stares at herself intently in the mirror. Her black tattoos are visible and it makes her self-conscious, which is weird because she normally doesn't care. But she cares today. Why does she care today?
Clarke stumbles nervously, quickly, afraid that Lexa will come out and find her half naked. Which wouldn't be that bad though, would it? Clarke shakes the thought away as she ties the back of her bikini top. As soon as she does, Lexa knocks on the bathroom door and Clarke holds her breath.
The door opens and Lexa steps out cautiously, hesitantly. Clarke remains silent as the brunette makes her way out of the bathroom. Their eyes travel vigorously, hungrily across each other's flesh. They don't say a word, though it doesn't matter anyway because all they can hear is their own heartbeat, all they can focus on is the softness, the sharpness of each other's body.
Fuck me, Lexa thinks to herself and immediately blushes, wondering if she's said it out loud. Their eyes meet, finally, and they both wonder what it'll take for the other to ravage her. They both wait, patiently, painfully, for the other to do something – anything – to let the other know that they wanted this too. When neither did, they forced themselves to look away, to give up on the idea that there could ever really be anything other than a one night stand between them.