fragile | clexa

chapter twenty five

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The next day was really odd, Clarke figured.

Lexa had somehow carried her through her panic, told her to slow down and that she didn't need to finish the story, especially not that day. Clarke had been too exhausted and scared to be embarrassed, and she'd been so jumpy the whole time that Lexa had needed to cuddle her again for Clarke to fall asleep.

Well, that had been somehow comprehendable, at least. Different to the next morning.

It neither started off with them staying in bed to be lazy, or with her painting, or them going to Artigas or Lincoln and they didn't even went to visit the bakery.

Lexa's routine in the bathroom was broken too. She combed Clarke's hair and helped her wash her face, yes, but then, she just left the door to the wardrobe open and told Clarke to dress herself up. If she'd need help, she could call, Lexa had said before vanishing.

They didn't even eat breakfast, on top of everything. Clarke took her medicine, but other than that, nothing. At all, not even for Lexa.

It was late morning by the time Lexa, looking alarmingly nervous, rushed out of the tent again. Whatever was going on, it couldn't be good, and Clarke felt anxiety creep up her spine until Lexa was back and-

And there was absolutely nothing Clarke could feel, or think, or anything, because everything now made even less sense.

Lexa was holding a beautiful bouquet of roses in the prettiest colors, and Clarke's ears colored red when the woman bowed a little, handed her the flowers and took her hand to press the softest of kisses upon her knuckles. Actually, it was rather a faint breeze than a kiss. "We, Clarke kom Trikru, are going on a date now," she whispered with more confidence than she actually had, but Clarke was too enthralled by the sparkle in Lexa's eyes to notice anyway. "It's not actually romantically, so don't worry. But it's a date."

Goddamnit Lexa was too friendly. Asking some slave out just to- yeah, what? Improve her view on dates?

-

Although it was only a fake date, about a thousand things were screaming inside of Clarke's head about the Heda and a slave and- and she really didn't care, because she was much too busy blushing and getting her heart under control. Lexa made it extra hard, of course. She acted like Clarke wasn't some cripple all the way, like it was the most normal gesture of chivalry to help somebody up a horse like Lexa did, or that the soft grip she had on her was for any other purpose than keeping her on said horse.

Although Clarke got to sit with her back to Lexa's front, instead of leaning against her chest, and her eyes on the landscape in front of them, it was hardly enough luxury and distraction to forget the way Lexa was... the kindest person on the whole world.

Clarke needed to try really, really hard not to cry on the way, because that of course would've ruined everything. She didn't know why she, after years of not crying, nowadays wanted to cry when she wasn't even doing bad.

They reached a meadow after only ten or so minutes, and Clarke was stunned to say the least. She was fairly sure her eyes had simply just rediscovered the world or something, travelling over green grass and pink cherry blossoms, dark tree trunks showing inbetween the plants that had distributed their scent to the spot above the hill Clarke and Lexa were at.

Clarke was so mesmerized that she hardly at all noticed Lexa slipping from the horse in her ever graceful manner, only realized the held out hand when hearing Lexa's soft chuckle.

"You like it?"

Clarke nodded and she didn't know where to look. Darting between Lexa's eyes and the beautiful landscape in front of her, her eyes only finally stopped on Lexa's outstretched hand again.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her fingers wrapping around Lexa's and of course the brunette played almost carrying her as a polite gesture.

"We," Lexa said, drawing out the word, "are going to go on a picnic. There."

She pointed to a certain, particularly lush tree, and once they'd half gone half limped there, the horse led by Lexa, the latter took a picnic basket out of their small packings, together with a blanket to sit on.

The next hours were a blur of really good food- however much of it Clarke ate-, the intoxicating smell of spring and cherry, the sound of birds chirping and the feeling of warm sun prickling on Clarke's skin.

She felt... alive. Like she was actively present because it was her life and not to please anyone else. She felt like she belonged into just that moment, on just that blanket, next to Lexa. No one rich and no one pretty or intelligent, just her.

It wasn't 15 year old Clarke, but the carelessness and the messed up blond hair through wind, it covered the fact that she was only hiding away from her life for a second.

Maybe it was also that she didn't have that much of a logical brain left to overthink the situation, not with Lexa's eyes actually gleaming, and her somewhat giggly laughs and those genuine smiles like she wasn't aware someone was there to watch them. Like she was happy to be there, too.

And so kind. So- so...

There she was again. Getting stuck on that thing about Lexa that she couldn't name. The safety, the care.

The problem was that she didn't even have a tinge of anxiety or panic inside of her that moment, so it didn't work that whatever that thing was and did to Clarke just drowned among other feelings. She was horribly drunk on that childish image of perfection and cherry-tree-picnic dates that had manifested, much too calm and with her guard much too far down, and she should've known that that wouldn't lead her anywhere good.

Well, except that she maybe already was with something good. Somebody good.

So she hardly had any other option but to give into that soft voice and the raspberries Lexa fed her, the way the woman was all bubbly talking like she herself wasn't at all used to things as such, and the way her little jokes kept coaxing laughter and small giggles out of Clarke too.

She hadn't laughed in years and God she had forgotten how good it felt.

Everything felt so good. The day ended as one of the best Clarke had ever had. When she was sitting on the horse again, tired out and a lazy smile still playing around her lips, for the first time behind Lexa and leaning against her back, there was a certain something in her chest that hadn't ever been there. A full kind of calmness that she hadn't met like that before. Actual tiredness, and not because a few steps were too much exercise or she had had four panic attacks in a row, but because they had talked, with real topics, and laughed and Clarke had breathed so much fresh air that she was in a perfect mood to nap a little.

Her problems could come back when she woke up from the comfy spot there behind Lexa on the horse.

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hi everyone,
this one's pretty much shorter that the other chapters, but I would love to hear your opinion on it :) thanks so much for reading, I hope you're all doing alright out there, if anyone needa vent about shit, or like just wants a friend and someone to talk to, just dm me on insta any time :) Alrighty, stay amazing and safe!