It Takes As Long As It Takes

Chapter Twenty Six

Happy Halloween!

Thanks for the patience everyone. And many thanks to the wonderful whosophia for an amazing beta job! (Though, I changed and added things after her addition, so any errors are probably my own.) Check out her stories if you have time!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

It had only been three days, but Lexa already felt like she had been living a surreptitious life for months. Raven had bet her that she could not hide the tattoo from Clarke for the week before their two year anniversary, and Lexa had felt almost personally offended by her lack of faith. Which, she now realized, was really just a clearer grasp of reality.

She had planned out all her answers to questions Clarke might have, such as why she would be wearing a long sleeve shirt when it was ninety degrees outside (because increasing skin damage from the sun is a growing concern amongst the medical community, Clarke), but she had been unprepared for other things. Other . . . physical things.

She had never realized how much of a role physicality played in their lives until she had to limit it with Clarke. And this was aside from the obvious moments of intimacy in any relationship. In addition to trying her best to non-suspiciously decline Clarke's advances in the past few days with complaints of random maladies, she had had to avoid cuddling with her at night, and avoid hugging her in general, since her shoulder was still tender. Clarke had even drawn a bath for her as a surprise one night, likely with the hopes of sharing it with her, so she had to jump in and out of the bath before Clarke had a chance to join her. It made her feel immensely guilty. And more than that, she herself missed those things as well.

All in all, she was sure that Clarke was suspicious and possibly concerned about her abnormal behavior, but with only several more days to go before the reveal, Lexa could bear the guilt for a little while longer.

Except for one thing. The pain.

She had been told that the area would be tender for a few days, but with good care, it was supposed to start healing and become less painful to touch. She was not a doctor, but the area around the tattoo becoming redder and more tender did not seem like it was healing. She had done her best to care for it, but with each passing day, the redness around her tattoo seemed to grow. She just kept hoping it would be better by the time she was ready to show Clarke.

She had it all planned out. She had suggested that they go to a nice restaurant for their anniversary dinner, so that they would have a chance to dress up for the occasion. She had picked the perfect thing to wear: a simple, dark blue dress that fell to her knees. And, importantly, strapless, so that when she did the spin around that Clarke always made her do every time they got dressed up, it would become clearly visible. She even planned what she was going to say.

"This is how much I believe in you, Clarke. I would not put the work of any random artist who is not going to make it big on my body. Now I can say that I am the very first to have a Clarke Griffin original."

Cheesy, yes. But that was the best way she could think of to express how she felt.

It would not matter what she said though, if, instead of a beautiful, meaningful tattoo on her shoulder, all Clarke saw was a red, inflamed patch of skin.

But maybe it had gotten better. Lexa had cleaned it gently but thoroughly yesterday, and she was hopeful that the rash be healed.

She turned to look at her tattoo in the mirror again. Her skin seemed to have gotten even redder today. She touched it gingerly with one finger and immediately flinched from the pain.

She sighed.

Yeah. It was definitely not getting better.
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It was Sunday morning, and Clarke had woken up early without the aid of an alarm, as she had many Sunday mornings before. A difference today though, was that she was meeting Lexa for brunch. And the added excitement was not inducive to deep, restful sleep.