your hand in mine pt. II (clexa)

Chapter 14

Lately, she's been forgetting what sleep is. There's also very little doubt in her mind that she's about to fail the majority - if not all - of her classes this semester. Her teachers were willing to take her situation into account last Fall. Not anymore. She can't exactly blame them. It's not like they are aware her situation got worse.

It seems like everything's been steadily getting worse. It's been three days. Lexa hasn't returned her texts or calls. She doesn't know Anya's number, and Lincoln -- she doesn't even try to reach out to him. At least she's got some common sense left, she thinks bitterly as she watches the sunrise for the third time this week.

And, until a sudden knock on her door, this morning seemed like any other. About to be spent worrying, exhaustingly, with dread running through her veins like slow poison.

Until a sudden knock on her door.

Lexa looks sharp and collected when she opens the door without even asking who it is, and Clarke's too shocked to do anything but gape.

"Hey." Full lips twitch as Lexa swallows. "I -- Anya told me about running into you."

Questions immediately flood her mind - Running into me? Did she just find you, or did you spend these three days thinking whether you should be here or not?

Are you here only because Anya told you about me?

She clears her throat. "Oh. Well -- good. I'm... I'm glad you're okay."

Green eyes narrow as Lexa gives her a subtle smirk. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Clarke scoffs. "Right. Is, um -- Is Lincoln okay? Oh - do you want to come inside?" At Lexa's hesitant glance over her shoulder, she tries again. "I have coffee."

The smirk grows. "I do like coffee."

Is that how it's going to be? Completely ignoring every problem?

She's here, Clarke's mind tells her. She's okay and she's with you.

Her talk with Raven tries to resurface in her memory, but she pushes it down. "There's plenty of it in the kitchen," she tells her, stepping aside and motioning for her to come in. Lexa murmurs a quiet thank you and walks past her, shrugging her jacket off and neatly placing it on the back of a chair. Clarke watches her roll her sleeves up and straighten her tie and -- God, she looks unfairly good this early in the morning.

Clarke mentally thanks her past self for forcing herself to shower today.

"Did you have breakfast?"

That, she couldn't force herself to do, but she doesn't let Lexa know that. "Yeah," she tells her. "But, um, if you haven't, I could make something for you."

Lexa makes a noncommittal sound as she looks around. "Did you have take out last night?"

She blinks. "No."

"Ah." Lexa glances around the kitchen again before her unreadable stare lands on Clarke. "You're up unusually early. I was afraid I was going to wake you up."

"Oh, no, you didn't. I -- I woke up right before you came," Clarke blatantly lies.

And Lexa, being Lexa, sees right through it. Clarke realizes her grave mistake seconds before Lexa sighs and closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Is it a reflex? Lying to me?" Her words are quiet, but they cut, deep and sharp, and Clarke has to grit her teeth together so she doesn't let out a strangled gasp.