She hopes she never gets used to waking up next to Lexa, and she means it in the best possible way. She wants to always feel that warmth when she awakes; wants her lips to curl in a smile at the realization of having Lexa's arms around her.
She's careful not to jostle her when she turns around. Her smile grows at the sight. Chestnut hair scattered all over the pillow as Lexa lies on her side, breathing even and deep in her slumber. Not for the first time Clarke is struck by how young she looks when she sleeps. It's easy to forget sometimes that she's only a couple of years older than her, with the burden she carries on her shoulders every day. The young woman before her is responsible for things she can't even imagine. People and their families depend on decisions she makes, every day, hour, minute.
Clarke's hand slowly cups her cheek, running her thumb across the bone, feather-like.
Long, dark lashes flutter at the touch. She suppresses the urge to chuckle when Lexa mumbles something incoherent that vaguely sounds questioning. She's never been a morning person. Clarke still finds it baffling.
"Morning," she whispers, scooting closer to her and pressing her lips to the soft skin of her neck. Higher, to her jaw, keeping it light and chaste as her hand continues to stroke her cheek.
Lexa lets out a quiet groan, and Clarke leans back just in time to see her eyes flutter open, hazy with sleep. "...Hi," she rasps after blinking several times and finally managing to focus on Clarke's face.
She bites her lower lip to stop a giant grin from breaking out. "Hi," she murmurs back. Lexa leans into her hand, seemingly subconsciously, as her hand travels up and down her side.
"Did you sleep well?" Lexa still sounds drowsy, but she's looking more and more awake as her gaze lazily trails Clarke's face and form.
"Yeah. You?"
Lexa nods. "I wouldn't say no to more," she quips, allowing a smile to escape, and Clarke smiles back.
"Go back to sleep, then," she says quietly. "I'll make us breakfast and wake you up." She tries to roll onto her other side so she can rise to her feet, but that proves difficult with Lexa's hold on her tightening.
"You are kind of the essential part of this," she tells her, grinning with self-satisfaction when Clarke laughs.
"Fine," she says, settling back into Lexa's welcoming arms. "Only because you can't sleep without me."
Lexa smirks. "I didn't say that."
"Oh?" Clarke raises her eyebrows and tries to get out of her hold, but her – largely insincere – attempt is futile. Lexa grabs her waist and tugs her back, and they fall back down onto the bed, laughing, with Clarke trapped under Lexa.
Green eyes sparkle as they stare down at her. "Where do you think you're going?" Lexa demands, with a small grin.
"Nowhere," Clarke laughs. "I'm not going anywhere." Her eyes widen and her laughter dies, abruptly, when Lexa's deft fingers inch closer to her sides, wiggling.
"No. Lexa. Don't you dare." Fingertips stroke her skin, and she squirms, gasping. "I'll kick you," she warns, only half-jokingly.
She hates tickling. Once, she almost broke Raven's nose with how hard she was flailing under her attack. She's not sure she would've felt too guilty about it, either – she did warn her. And she told Lexa about that.
But Lexa smirks, with a certain air of slight arrogance she hasn't seen in so long, and plops down next to her. "As long as you've learned your lesson," she murmurs in a husky voice, swinging an arm and a leg over her as she lays her head on her shoulder. It's a very bold move for Lexa, and a particularly... uncharacteristic position. In a way, it's a rather vulnerable one. A position that demands caring and protection, and usually, Lexa's the one who's got her arms around Clarke, not the other way around. But Clarke is not about to question a good thing.
