Chapter 17

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Getting coffee with Clarke was...well, awkward.

Lexa was still strumming with the emotions from earlier, feelings buzzed and high from the elation of knowing how Clarke felt—knowing that everything stemmed not from a desire to hurt, but a desire to prevent it. She was excited for the future, thrilled for the first time in a while, but was still unsure and hesitant and worried when it came to Clarke. (It was natural, she told herself. It was expected. After everything, she shouldn't be quick to jump to move on—these things took time, took healing, took the rebuilding of trust. Right?)

They sat across from each other, staring determinedly at anything but each other, Lexa's finger nervously tapping away against the table, Clarke biting her lips so hard that Lexa was sure she'd draw blood. And as the minutes dragged on, it became even more awkward—painfully so.

"So. This is weird."

"Yeah," Lexa agreed, meeting Clarke's eyes.

"Do you think it's too late?" The question came hesitantly but harshly, like she knew she shouldn't ask but had no other choice—was compelled by some force far beyond her control. And Lexa, Lexa who'd been having the same thoughts, swallowed hard and looked down.

"Too late for us?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think we're that screwed up?"

"I don't know. Do you?" Lexa watched as Clarke drew a circle with the tip of her finger on her coffee cup, her entire attention seemingly on the action. But she could tell, tell by the way Clarke's body leaned forward, by the way her chin was raised, by the way her eyes darted, that her focus was only on Lexa—waiting with bated breath to hear Lexa's answer.

"I think Mrs. Griffin would say something about love here." She wanted to say more, but Clarke met her eyes, a sad smile on her lips, and Lexa's words died in her throat.

"But maybe love isn't enough," she said softly, shrugging. "Maybe it's about knowing when to throw in the towel." She swallowed hard, once again looking down at her cup, aimlessly dragging her fingers over it. "I can't hurt you anymore, Lexa." And that, that was the moment things became easy once more. Because the sight of Clarke, miserable and quiet, ready to give up before even trying if trying meant causing pain, made Lexa realize this was what got them in trouble in the first place—made her realize what to do.

"You're an idiot." Clarke looked up, something fiery appearing in her eyes. It wasn't anger or frustration, but a sense of discontent—seemingly affronted that Lexa would be so rude.

"Seriously?"

"Well you are. Just half an hour ago we said we were too smart to make the same mistakes again. And here we are, doing it again."

"We can't even get through coffee together. You think we're going to last as a couple?"

"Yes, I do."

"Lexa—"

"No, listen to me. You're playing devil's advocate, and it's pissing me off. We can do this. It'll just take time."

"Love conquers all, huh?" She was being sarcastic, more like her usual self, and Lexa grinned.

"Actually, yes. Mrs. Griffin said that love is like an infinite energy source, and we choose to put in the effort to direct that source towards a single person." Clarke nodded, but didn't speak, and after a short pause, Lexa plowed on. "And she's right, I think. But also wrong."

"Oh wow, she'd be so offended if she heard this."

"You don't get to choose who you fall for," Lexa continued, smiling slightly at Clarke's comment. "And I don't think you have to put in effort to direct that infinite energy source towards that person. I think it's a natural process, that's just the way the energy flows."

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