fragile | clexa

chapter thirty six

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Clarke couldn't move. Lexa's lips were on her and they were the absolutely softest thing she had ever felt. She practically melted against them, any pain in her body vanishing as she leaned a tad further in. She didn't even think about how wrong it all was because never in Clarke's life had something felt so right.

Lexa's arm was around her waist, the muscular limb resting against a bit of skin that didn't happen to be hurt. Her hand was still on Clarke's neck, but she seemed to apply no more than a breeze of pressure into the gentlest kiss Clarke could've imagined.

It seemed to last forever, even if it were just a few seconds. In the matter of a blink, butterflies had settled into all of Clarke's body and her heart had once jumped out of her body before beating so quickly, Clarke was afraid Lexa could feel it.

When Lexa pulled away, Clarke sat there on the woman's lap with wet, parted lips and big eyes that held every disbelief ever.

She was dreaming, she was quite sure then. It explained all her confidence to talk so much against the Heda too.

God, why was she dreaming such inappropriate things?

A hand intertwined with hers and Clarke only barely noticed it until it was on Lexa's chest and the familiar beat of a heart reached Clarke.

Lexa.

Lexa was there. She was alive. She was real.

The heartbeat was quicker than usual, but it was still there. Then, Lexa took Clarke's other hand and carefully placed it upon her own chest, under the cut that was turning into a scar.

Beneath her palm, another rythm made itself noticable. It was unsteadier than Lexa's, but it was there.

"Lexa," Clarke breathed.

Lexa was searching her eyes and Clarke sat there so enchanted by the glassy green that she barely noticed the tear that had escaped them.

Lexa was crying.

"Lexa," Clarke repeated, with a slightly questioning undertone softly layering her voice. She (almost) was too caught up in the feeling that was still on her lips to properly register Lexa's following words.

'Almost' because thinking about it, there was probably no way they could've ever passed her.

"You're so beautiful Clarke," Lexa whispered and the next thing Clarke knew were the tears rolling over her own cheeks too.

"Lexa," she again got out breathlessly, like it could offer her any explanation for her heart that was currently exploding. Its remains only served to nourish the butterflies in her stomach.

"You're not going to die, do you hear me? I need you alive, Clarke."

Clarke couldn't argue. All she could think of was Lexa and no other word seemed to be able to pass her lips. Something had clicked inside her when Lexa had kissed her. Some piece of a messed up puzzle had fallen into the right place.

It simply made everything more confusing.

"Lexa," for the fourth time. "I'm not worth your- this... your kiss."

Lexa's hand slipped from Clarke's neck to her good cheek. She carefully cupped it and Clarke felt the sharp bone of her jaw connect with Lexa's soft, only slightly calloused fingertips.

"Didn't you learn?" Lexa asked and she knew it was so wrong, sitting there with Clarke on her lap, having kissed her, but yet a soft smile played around her lips. It was so wrong, leaning in again until she was a few inches away from Clarke's lips another time.