DAY 96: LEXA | ALICIA
The sound of my voice makes Jaime turn on his heels to face me. Is it possible that he looks... different? Not bad different, but... like he's more present. More whole... somehow. Or is it just me? Am I actually seeing him, the real him, after—maybe—never paying that much attention to him until now?
I don't get the chance to ponder on it.
"You're not gonna believe this," he answers me before anyone else can. "I found my sister!"
"Your... your sister?"
Stunned, I look from him to the others, until my gaze gets stuck on Magna. As I can't imagine this to be about either Clarke or Madi, he must be talking about her. "You're his sister?!"
"Small world, huh?" she shrugs.
There's a ghost of a smile lingering on her lips, but I also spot something defiant in her eyes, which seem darker than usual. For some reason I don't get, she doesn't look thrilled or amused.
This is not a happy family reunion. There's more to this story.
"I don't understand." Mom brushes past me, laying her hand on his shoulder. "You never told me you had a sister."
"It took you three weeks to open up about your family," he simply answers her, yet without any judgment in his voice. The way he shrugs his shoulders isn't just nonchalant, there's also something faintly familiar in it. It struck me before, somewhere subconsciously, but it isn't until now that I realize Magna just did so in the exact same manner. She has done so for as long as I can remember.
Something clicks. Wait, who are we talking about here?
My eyes flash to my left, finding Clarke's straight away, as if she's been waiting for me. For my penny to drop. She nods, subtly, then articulates without a sound: "Lu-na."
Crap.
Mom, of course, has no idea about this sudden awareness - and the rising nerves that come with it. She just nods at Jaime, not fighting him on this. Some things are indeed too painful to talk about.
"So I assume you're the sister in question, then?"
She turns to Magna, yet instead of answering her, Magna glances away, over Mom's shoulder, at me. Our eyes lock.
Not knowing what else to do, I shake my head, slow and soundlessly.
I have no doubt that she can read the plea in my eyes. Or, based on the current vibe, that I'm the first one asking her this.
Her gaze stays blank. She's giving me nothing. I have no clue what to expect, or what to do. Nailed to the ground, a helpless feeling floods my veins.
I inhale, about to say who-knows-what, but she already looks back at Mom.
"I am," she answers. Another illegible smile shines through. "And you are?"
Mom steps forward to shake her hand. "Madison," she introduces herself, "Madison Clark."
"Madison Clark," Magna slowly repeats. Returning Mom's handshake, her eyes swiftly move back to me. "It's true then? You found her?" And then, tilting her head with an intrigued look on her face, back at Mom, "You're her mother."
Still standing behind her, I can't see Mom's expression, but I just know she's giving Magna her you-better-believe-it face, most likely combined with her infamous who-the-hell-are-you glare.
Stepping back towards us, she folds her arms across her chest and squares her shoulders, like a hen protecting her chicks. "You two know each other?"
"Yeah, we go far back," Magna replies. There's that shrug again. Whatever is your problem, it ain't mine, it seems to say.
I fleetingly look at Clarke again. She's biting her lips. Whatever is happening, I'm sure she gave her all trying to avoid it.
Surprisingly Mom doesn't ask any further. Or maybe she's just not quick enough. Magna uses their short silence to turn the tables. She tips her chin.
"What's the deal with you and my brother?"
"There's no deal," Mom answers, seemingly unaffected by Magna's stare, "I just look after h—"
"She saved my life," Jaime cuts in. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Madison."
If only he knew it's the other way around.
His words don't miss their effect though. I can see how they help to ease Magna, how they help her to let go - somewhat at least. When she looks back from him to Mom, she exhales.
"That's true?"
This time Mom's the one to shrug.
Magna nods, pensively. "I appreciate that," she says. "I do. Thank you, for taking care of him. You don't have to any longer, though. I think it's clear that he'll stay with me from here on."
Mom cocks her head. "I think it's clear that he's a big boy and that it's really up to him."
They turn towards him in unison. When Magna takes a deep breath, about to question him, I catch myself holding mine. If she calls him Phoenix...
"Jaime?"
I close my eyes, a sigh of relief escaping me.
She's with us. She's still with us.
Jaime clears his throat, drawing my attention back to them again.
"I'm really grateful for all you've done for me, Madison," he smiles at her, "But my sister is right. I want to... I need to stay with her now. She's my family. I'm sure you understand."
When she answers him, her eyes are on me, a warm smile curling her lips.
"I do."
... ...
"You're sure we can trust her?" Mom asks me as soon as we've parted our way.
I shake my head, laughing. I get that she feels overwhelmed and worried. But I don't share her sentiment - I just feel relieved, light even. "Yes Mom, I'm sure. Magna is cool. A bit feisty, but cool. She saved my ass a few times. I have no doubt she'll make sure to save his, too."
"Still, he's—"
"He's a big boy, just like you said," I cut her off, "Plus he's staying like fifty yards away from us. If it doesn't work out, he'll find his way back to you in like a minute."
We pass the sheds and turn the corner. The moment Mom sees the group of small tents, which we now have to share with twelve people in total, she frowns at me.
"We're not going to stay here, are we?"
"No, we're not," I answer, glad that this poor living arrangement gives me an excuse for not wanting to settle down here. "But it will do for now."
Our chattering makes Strand look up.
"There you are," he grins. "We are just making some rearrangements, reckoning y'all want to share a tent."
I thank him by returning his smile. He isn't wrong. But he isn't totally right either.
Once again we'll be all cramped in there, with no room or privacy whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be more happy about finding Mom, and I can't imagine my life without Madi in it anymore, but I'm starting to get some serious worries about my health if I can't get a moment for myself soon.
Or for ourselves, I should say, glancing at Clarke.
Mom might not even have heard him, as she's already embracing Lucy and June. I'm sure they have a lot of catching up to do, together with some acquaintance-making with everyone else.
Stuff they don't need me for.
Taking off my backpack, I crouch down and hand it to Madi, who's already crawled into the tent to prepare it for the night. I can't tell for sure in this gloomy light, but I think she looks a bit bummed.
"You're okay?" I ask her.
She nods. "Just tired."
Reaching behind me, I take the sleeping bag Clarke is handing me and pass it through. When Madi takes it from me, I ruffle her hair. "Get some rest. That's what we're here for."
I stand up again, right when Mom passes me by. I stop her, resting my hand on her arm.
"I've got one more thing to do," I tell her. "You're alright here?"
"Sure," she nods, "Would make it quick though!" She points at the sky above us, where dark clouds are quickly gathering. "This storm is not gonna wait."
"Don't worry," I say, already turning towards Clarke, "We'll be right back."
Without another word I take the last bag from Clarke's hands, toss it towards the entrance of our tent and grab her hand, leading her to the gate - and ignoring her stammering questions. The second we walk through it, a loud thunderclap roars above us. The lightning that follows right after rips the sky open, and heavy rain begins to pour down.
"Lex, wait... hold on!" Clarke calls from behind me, trying to keep up as I keep dragging her along. "You shouldn't be out here. People might see you."
"Don't worry, this won't take long," I reassure her. Still holding her hand in mine, I halt and turn around.
She watches me through the curtain of rain, awaiting... and slightly intrigued perhaps? As she narrows her eyes, I notice a few raindrops sticking to her lashes.
"What are you talking about?"
I step towards her, take her face in my hands and peck her lips. "Dancing," I wink.
Before she can say anything, I let go of her and spin around on my toes, making a full three-sixty with my arms waving through the air. "We're celebrating."
"By getting soaked?" she frowns, both confused and amused.
I cock my head back and look up above, like I just realized it's raining, then shrug and smirk at her. "Do you mind?"
A snort escapes her. "I might!"
"Alright," I nod, taking her hand again. "Come!"
With my free hand shielding my eyes from the rain, which seems to be getting worse by the minute, I increase my speed, following the now muddy and slithery path along the wall. We make it around the corner without slipping. And there I find it, exactly where we left it three months ago.
Al's good old SWAT truck.
To those who don't know any better the heavy back door might seem locked, but I know it isn't; you just have to know how to open it.
As soon as I've pulled the trick, I help Clarke inside and swiftly follow her. She was right: we are drenched. Thanks to the fact that the windows and shutters are closed, the inside of the truck is not though. Wanting to keep it that way, I reach around her and quickly close the door.
"Better?" I ask.
"Much better," she nods.
It's rather dark in here, but with the little light that's coming through the windscreen I can still see everything I need to. Her laughing eyes. The dimple in her left cheek. Her chest rising and falling from our little run.
Another crash of thunder strikes.
Instinctively Clarke takes a step forward, away from the noise outside, and towards me. She runs her fingers through the tips of my hair, absentmindedly playing with it as her eyes are on mine.
"Now what are we celebrating exactly?"
"Everything!" I grin widely. "Finding my mother. Getting into Hilltop..." I lightly kiss her lips again, just like before, and flash her another smile. "Luna finding her brother..." Kiss. "...without ratting us out." Kiss. "And last but not least..." I slowly push her backwards, my hand flat against her chest, until her shoulders hit the cold metal of the door behind her, then lean in, my lips almost grazing her ear, "...the fact that we can finally sneak away."
"Is that so?"
She tries to sound cool, but her low, shaky gasp already betrays her rising excitement.
"I promised you soon," I go on, tracking a raindrop that rolls from her temple to her jaw, before nudging her chin up, whispering against the corner of her lips, "This is soon."
My fingertips graze her throat, linger at her pulse point, then move further backwards - over the damp, clingy hairs that are stuck to her skin. Cupping the back of her neck, I pull her towards me.
And then I kiss her - for real.
And boy, does she kiss me back!
Her mouth falls open the moment I trace my tongue along the seam of her lips, sucking me in, welcoming me with her own.
With hands tangled up in wet hair she pulls me closer, or I press myself against her, God knows at this point, and despite the fact that the rain got us frozen to the marrow, I can feel her body heat right through the fabric of her sodden clothes.
She captures my bottom lip between her teeth, pulls gently, then soothes it with her tongue. Shuddering at her touch, I draw her in again, deepening our kiss, needy and hungry. Our breaths become one, and with the increasing pounding of my heart I can feel a delicious warmth spreading between my legs.
Not ever wanting to stop, I find myself chasing her lips when Clarke pulls back. A small whimper escapes me when I fail.
"Fuck, I missed this. This... you," she sighs, catching her breath. "This us."
"Yeah?" I breathe, already searching for her mouth again, right when she rolls her head. My lips find the exposed skin of her neck instead. Something I can definitely work with, too. I sink my teeth in, knowing it will leave a mark, and quickly make up for it by sucking that one spot that always drives her wild.
"Hell yeah," she groans, "I love this us."
There's not a bone in my body that disagrees with her and I'd die to hear everything else she loves about us, but there's a time for talking and there's a time for... this. This absolute need to feel her lips on mine.
My nails scratch her neck as I pull her back in. Her moan of approval echoes in my mouth, vibrates through my body and sets me on fire.
Her tongue finds mine again for a kiss that's even more eager, even more hot, and within seconds our breathing becomes hard and heavy. I know we are loud, with the sounds of our moans bouncing off the walls, but we're protected by a shield of rain drumming on the roof, and also I don't care - even though I probably should.
This time it's Clarke who dips her head, skimming her lips against the sensitive skin of my throat, searching for my pulse, making me shiver - and tight with want. Needing her to go on, forever if possible, I keep her lips close, while my hands smooth down from her neck, over the blades of her shoulders and along her spine, to the small of her back. When they get hold on her hips, I roughly pull her against me. There!
I press into her, my hand trailing further down, to her thigh, but Clarke already gets the hint. She pulls her leg up, creating all the room I need. A deep groan escapes me.
"Shit, you feel so good."
She inches back and peers up at me through dark, hooded eyes. "Want more of that?"
Without a blink, she lowers one hand to my ass and starts to buck into me. Forceful, yet teasingly slow.
"Yes!" I want to scream. "Yes, yes, yes!" But I'm suddenly lost for words.
So instead I bite my lip, enjoy the feeling until it's not enough anymore. Slipping two fingers underneath the waistband of her jeans, I pull her with me; two, three steps backwards, before pushing her down onto one of the side benches. Her eyes never leave mine.
I straddle her thigh, finding a tight grip on her shoulders, and start to rock my hips - a soft cry escaping me with every thrust.
There's nothing like this sight of her. This sight of her watching me ride her, use her, with these lusty eyes and this... this cocky smirk on her lips as she sits back for a bit to take it all in. Yet when her fingers dig in the flesh of my ass cheeks, finally helping me out by pressing me even further down, I just can't focus any longer. With closed eyes, my head falls back.
For a moment, this is all there is, all we are.
Things can't get better than this. Except that they can. Of course they can.
As I keep moving, keep dragging myself over the rough denim of her jeans, I feel how she sits up - her chest now close against mine. Her hand sneaks underneath the hem of my shirt, stroking the skin of my belly as it travels further up.
When she cups the fullness of my breast, her palm firm against my hard peak, my eyes fly wide open. I arch beneath her touch and she leans in, burying her face into the valley she just can't reach.
"Off," she mumbles against the fabric.
Without hesitation I let go of her, just for one second, and pull my shirt over my head. When she does the same with hers, I use the moment to take her in, unconsciously licking my lips.
"How are you this hot?" I breathe, finally finding my voice back - or well, some deep, raspy version of it.
Beyond my control my hips start to rock again, though this time I force myself to go slow, to stay in the moment. I watch her when she unhooks my bra, laps my nipple and sucks it in. Listen to her content hums of delight as my body responds to her every touch. Another wave of pleasure hits my core. Bringing me closer and closer.
It's not just me though.
I can feel how her body gets impatient. How it starts to squirm underneath my own. How it simply needs more.
She pulls me closer, almost testy, in search for my knee between her legs. The moment she finds it, a deep exhale falls from her lips. Grinding her center against me, she picks up my rhythm. And when she tips her head, her lips leaving a trail of wet kisses along my jaw, she gasps between heavy breaths, "Touch me. Please—"
My hand finds her breast, her touch-starved nipple, but I know that's not where she really wants me. So I let it graze down, until it's about to disappear between our bodies. Unzipping her pants, I slide my fingers in. Shit, did I do this?
Reading my mind, she wiggles her brows and nods. "For you," she smirks again.
I whimper, not able to form half the words she can. As my fingers start to explore, my free arm wraps itself around her neck. With my face this close to hers, our staccato breaths unite.
The moment I find her swollen nub, our lips crash together again, trapping her long-drawn moan between us. My fingers, our tongues, our hips... they all move in unison. Damn, we are good at this.
My mind might be clouded, intoxicated by all that's her, but that's a fact I'm highly aware of. We are made for this. For driving each other absolutely insane. It's the only coherent thought I can form right now, but it's one that matters, one that spurs me on even more. Until that other truth hits me: that if we keep going like this, we both will come in a minute. Probably less.
And I don't want to. Not yet. Not like this.
I retract my hand, making Clarke mutter in response, but when I lick her off my fingers, deliberately slow and without taking my eyes off of her, her protesting oooooh promptly turns into a sudden oh!
Giggling, I suggestively raise my brows. That's right girl, we are so not done.
Sliding off her lap, I drag her with me to the floor of the truck, where we quickly help each other strip out of the rest of our sticky clothes. In one earth-shattering flow we touch, we taste, and we take each other. Edging over and over again.
Until the pain for release becomes too much.
"Lex—" Clarke gasps close to my ear, as I draw my fingers out of her, right when the grip of her walls start to tighten. "I need to come. Please— Please Lexa, make me come."
"I know babe, I'm with you," I pant, about to burst as well, "Come— Come here."
Pulling her closer, even more into me, I swiftly find my position on top of her and start to move, rubbing my wet core against hers.
Clarke raises her hips, desperate and frantically, muttering a stream of breathless praises into my ear.
"F-Fuck... Fuck yes! Yes! Right— Right there..."
Her hands on my ass encourage my movements. I increase my thrusts, grinding faster now, and harder. Every time I feel her swollen clit hitting my own, electric bolts shoot through my body.
I bury my hand in her hair, my forehead pressed against hers as I keep pounding into her.
"I'm so... I'm soo close..." I stammer, completely out of breath, but unable to stop. I'm not sure if she heard me, with the raging storm outside still being louder than us, but I can see in her eyes that she knows.
"N-Now?"
I swallow, then nod, almost uncontrollably. "Now."
We keep bucking into each other, our tensed bodies trembling and shaking, and then I simply can't tell anymore which lightning is coming from the heavy weather and which one is coming from deep down inside of me.
Gasping against each others lips, with our eyes shut, release overtakes the both of us... and for a moment the world is still again.
As we ride out our orgasms, I slowly lower my sweaty body on top of Clarke's, resting my head on her collarbone. She wraps her arms around me. Entwined like this, together as one, with synchronous heartbeats, we both try to regain our breaths until I roll away, releasing her from my weight.
Lying next to each other, our overheated bodies completely stretched out, and our chests still rapidly rising up and down, I turn my head to face her.
"Fuck Griffin, seriously, how are you this hot?!" I sigh with a staggering chuckle.
She snorts in disbelief. "Ever looked at yourself?!"
I mirror her grin, leaving our questions in the air, unanswered. Without moving, my gaze starts to trail her naked body, admires every detail of it. She lets me watch her, unashamed.
In awe, as if I'm seeing her for the first time, I whisper, "You are so beautiful."
Another giggle escapes her. "You mean I'm soaked, sweaty, bruised and marked."
"No," I smile lazily, shaking my head, "I mean beautiful. The most beautiful of all."
She narrows her eyes. "Agree to disagree?"
"No," I tell her again.
"Hm... How about a counter offer then?" Not waiting for my reaction, Clarke inches a little closer. Brushing my upper arm with her fingertips, she suggests, "You can think of me as the most beautiful one, as I can think of you?"
I raise my brows. "You ever think of me?"
"Never," she states, keeping her face straight for three seconds—at most—before laughter takes over, "Except all the time!" She leans in, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. "I never stopped. And I never will."
I want to hear more, want her to share all her thoughts with me, but just when I'm about to ask I notice the goosebumps on her skin. So instead, I stretch my arm to pull an old rug from underneath the bench. Unlike a minute before, the metal floor now feels hard and rough below my body.
Turning back to her, I make a face.
"You're right about those marks though. We're sure gonna be sore tomorrow!"
She shrugs. "I'd say it was worth every bruise."
"You think this proves those folks right, the ones that are all about the rewards of anticipation?" I question out loud.
Clarke bites her lips, giving it some thought. "Maybe. I wouldn't want to put it through an experiment though. First of: you, my dear, are always mind-blowingly good. Trust me. And second, and I'm saying this with all my love for our small family and the life we're building with them: I never want to wait this long ever again!"
"Ha!" I laugh, already pulling her back in my arms, "That I can agree on!"
- - END OF PART TWO - -