fragile | clexa

chapter twenty four

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The night was bad, at least for Clarke. And her waking up all few hours drenched in sweat and tears didn't help much with the comfort of Lexa's night either.

So, the next morning, they both just kept lazing around and took a nap here and there. The whole falling and staying asleep seemed to work better for Clarke when there was some light, so Lexa noted to leave more than the necessary handful of candles on the next night.

At noon, Clarke was a little surprised, Lexa went to bath her, dress her up rather nicely and then helped her outside of the tent and onto a horse. 'We're going to meet some new people' she had said.

Okay, Clarke was more than a little surprised. And quite afraid, despite Lexa's 'don't be afraid, I'll be there' and 'We can go anytime' s.

Their destination was a house painted a pretty shade of brown at the end of TonDC, a full and slightly overgrown garden taking up the space around it. There was a small path from the red wooden fence to the door, made out of light grey stone, and a elderly woman stood in the doorframe. It looked like out of a children's book maybe, she looked like out of one, with her grey, curly hair and her reddened cheeks, her kind smile.

Maybe Clarke wasn't entirely so afraid.

Well- she wasn't to the point of Lexa helping her to the house and introducing her to the woman, because after that, she heard more voices from the inside. She shot Lexa an anxious look, but the green inside of Lexa's eyes was still nothing but calm.

'It's okay, go on' Lexa half whispered, half mouthed. So Clarke went on, one hand tightly wrapped around her cane and the other even tighter around Lexa.

There was a kitchen down the hall that looked no less like that children book image. Though Clarke's focus was less on the beautiful wooden furniture, or the red-white-dotted tablecloth, but rather the four figures strewn across the room.

Shoulders hunched somewhat, heads ducked, hands fiddling, they looked no less afraid than Clarke. Only two of them were quietly chatting, a boy with shaggy, thin hair that fell over a bruise on his pale cheek and another boy, twice as broad as the other one, with thick, yet short dark curls for hair and clear, dark skin. Their clothes were partially ripped, though their appearances in general weren't as bad as Clarke's. Or so Clarke supposed.

The others were two girls, one with dark blonde to light brown hair pulled up in a loose ponytail and the moment Clarke let her eyes run over her, the girl's- or rather woman's- eyes lifted as well and Clarke was met with a beautiful shade of hazel. The hazel-eyed gave her a small smile, then looked away again.

The second girl was taller than the other one, a scar stretching out over the left side of her face and Clarke noticed that she seemed less anxious than bored. Her clothes were too baggy for her naturally lanky body, her legs a tad too long for the pants and her shoulders a little too small for the shirt. She had dark hair and a really nice soft smile she shot Clarke when their eyes met.

Clarke didn't think she had ever been smiled at by so many strangers.

-

Lexa knew it had been the right decision to take Clarke to old Berta's house when she saw the small blush on the blonde's cheeks after being smiled at.

It's not that Clarke threw herself at the others in the next few hours, or vice versa. She looked at them a lot, her eyes following them through the room, and once in a while there was a quick exchange of glances, but not more talking than it was necessary.

Oh, yeah, Lexa had brought Clarke to a baking course.

A simple cake, where everyone had their part and old Berta was going around in her ever jolly mood to help and look. It was a therapy thing to do, yes, but it seemed like none of the people that were there minded it much, except maybe the boy with the shaggy hair and the bruise.