your hand in mine pt. II (clexa)

Chapter 7

You know, there are days where I think I'm getting somewhere. I focus on my dad and my mom and school. I feel okay. Nowhere near getting over you, but - okay. And then there are days like this where I just... Where I just want you. Here. With me. Today is definitely one of these days, Lexa. When it feels like I can't breathe because I miss you so much.

All I can think of is - what if? What if we met under different circumstances? Do you think about that, too? What if Finn never suggested anything and we broke up - because now that I think about it, it was bound to happen with or without you in the picture. I was falling out of love with him. Long before my dad's incident.

What if I ended up in that coffee shop by pure chance? I would've looked differently. Would you have still come to me? I think yes. We would've talked just like we had. And you would've taken me home and let me keep your coat. And maybe it would've taken me much longer to accept the fact that I was falling in love with a woman, but at least it would have been... real. For you. And for me too, in a way.

Or... If only I got to you before Anya did. If only I hadn't decided to be selfish and keep you to myself for a little longer - if only I came clean the morning after I made love to you. I know I would've broken your heart either way, but at least you would've heard it from me. Everything. No assumptions, no half-truths.

I never wished for a time machine more. Sometimes, when missing you gets too hard, and your scent is no longer lingering on my sheets, on my clothes, I dream of impossible things. I imagine going back and telling you everything; after our first night, after our first meeting, after our first date. God, if I could go back, the first thing I'd do would be kissing you. And then telling you everything.

But I can't go back. i don't get to start over. But I hope some other version of me does. Somewhere in another life, another world, I hope we're happy. I hope that there is a world where I haven't hurt you. Where we keep each other safe and loved.

And maybe, in this one, someday we'll get a happy ending, too. I can only hope. It's the only thing I have left.

I love you, Lexa.

Clarke.

//

A pattern is forming, and Clarke is not sure she likes it. She doesn't know what would be a better description: push and pull, tug-o-war, or those damn swings, but either way, this is the furthest thing from healing. But they already established that.

In short, Lexa comes to her drunk out of her mind. At least, Clarke hopes the only thing she's had is alcohol.

In short, Lexa comes to her drunk. In long , Lexa's disappeared for more than a week after Clarke texted her. Went as far as blocking her number - again. And -- Clarke hasn't made the same mistake of coming over to her apartment unannounced, but she's pretty sure Kate's been there more times than her.

(Okay, so maybe she went there once. She never made it to the door - wasn't brave enough for that - but she did meet Lexa's neighbour again. The big gentleman with the small dog and a cozy plaid scarf, who cheerfully asked her if she was looking for her sister.

Sister . That's how alike they looked, apparently, and the thought, for some reason, makes Clarke sick to her stomach.

He helpfully let her know that she - Kate , sister - and Lexa went out somewhere, but looked like they might be back soon. She left immediately after that.)

It appeared as though Lexa's decided to sever all ties, after all, and Clarke's been trying to make her peace with that. Slowly. Painfully. And unsuccessfully. Mainly because Lexa herself is standing at her doorstep, eyes bloodshot and reeking of expensive scotch. Yes, expensive scotch reeks, too, when you consume it in unhealthy amounts.