LIVING IN THE MOMENT

"You're Not From Here Are You?"

"A true artist at heart" the brunette spoke softly, glancing over Clarke's shoulder. Clarke jumped, twisting her neck to see the stranger. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help but notice. I saw you sitting down here a few minutes ago and you were still here when  I came back. Curiosity got the better of me"

"Don't worry. You're fine"Clarke smiled, looking back over the landscape. The lawn looked like it was watered every day, not a patch of brown in site. Perfectly cut grass, trimmed trees, and a clear blue sky, shaping the perfect landscape to capture on paper.

" You're not from here, are you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, the accent is a dead giveaway and from my experiences, most artists as talented as you spend the majority of their time in museums. Your less than 2km away from one" The stranger smiled, taking a seat beside Clarke. "I can't blame you for wanting to capture this scene. I haven't seen it for years but it still amazes me"

"Why would you ever want to leave this place? I could stay here forever. Anything is better than home" Clarke whispered, mostly talking to herself. The stranger's presence was a comfort but she didn't mind that she was alone.

"Then it's not home" Clarke stared into the vibrant green eyes, almost questioning her. "Not to be cliché but home is were the heart is. If you'd rather be here, no matter how beautiful it is, than where the people you love are, something's not right"

Clarke didn't look away from the stranger's eyes. She probably shouldn't be using this girl as a therapist but this was the first time she felt comfortable talking about herself in a while.

"You'd be surprised how easy it is to mistake loving someone to being in love" Clarke admitted.

"An age old dilemma" The taller girl looked over the blondes face. "You don't seem upset about it"

"I'm not. I want to fall in love but when I see people who are 'in love' miserable, I can't help but question the concept"

"It's not a concept, an idea, or a notion. It's a real thing. Genuine love is hard to come by but when you find it, you can understand why those miserable people still fight for love"

Clarke let the stranger's words marinate in her mind,realizing she didn't know her name or vice versa.

"A true poet at heart" Clarke smiled, extending her hand. "Clarke" The brunette took her hand, turning it palm down.

"Lexa" She introduced herself, kissing Clarke's knuckles while looking her straight in the eye. "And I'm not a poet. Just a lover of the Bard"

"English major?"  Clarke changed the subject hoping to draw attention away from her blush.

"Political science actually" Lexa corrected.

"Is it usually this crowded around here?"

"Yes and no. There's a rumor the princess has returned home. She hasn't been seen in public for many years" Lexa told her. "Are you done with your drawing?" Clarke looked down at the paper, holding it down to get a good look at it despite the wind.

"For now. I don't have to right pencils to finish it the way I would like to"

"Good" Lexa said, standing up, tugging Clarke to stand up with her. She smiled, resting her hand gently on Clarke's hip. "Would you like to have lunch with me?"

Clarke knew Lexa was taller than her but she couldn't distinguish how much. The woman stood at about 6'3, eight inches taller than Clarke. Everything about the brunette was the epitome of perfection. The brown curls of her hair were messy but the thin braids woven through them  was enough to make Clarke a little jealous. Her skin was clear and fair, and from Clarke's prospective their wasn't a single inch of her body that didn't look like carved marble. Then there was her hands. Her hands were the right kind of big; if Lexa had opened her palm all the way, Clarke was sure that they'd take up most of her back. Regardless of their size , they fit perfectly in Clarke's hand. "Like a date?" Clarke swallowed.