fragile | clexa

chapter fifty four

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Clarke and Lexa laid there in Lexa's bed, simply holding each other and getting lost in kisses for a long while. Now that they had the chance to just be for a moment, they savored it. They savored each other. For one afternoon, they were just two girls who never really got to grow up. Two girls who both had their traumas and their scars, mentally and physically. Two girls who had been robbed of a home and of love, but maybe, right there, found both of it in each other.

Clarke never said it out loud. Lexa never expected her to. They didn't need words for once. For once, all they needed was each other's arms and it was enough that they could exist for a few hours without life pressuring them. Maybe this was life's apology for all the unfairness. For taking both of Clarke and Lexa and burdening them with more than two innocent children had been able to bear.

If it was life's apology, it was enough for that afternoon. They forgave life until evening rolled around and they had kiss-swollen lips, double sized hearts and dried tear streaks on their cheeks.

"Have I mentioned how proud of you I am?" Lexa somewhen murmured, head resting on Clarke's chest.

"A few times, maybe," Clarke replied with a soft grin.

"I really am. We have to see Berta again someday and you have to tell her all about how you kicked Finn's ass to the moon. She'll be so proud of you. Just like me. Makes me wanna give you that moon."

Clarke blushed. Absentmindedly, she brushed her hand through Lexa's hair another time, picking up strands of hair in the meanwhile so she could make a few braids.

"Clarke, I told you, you don't have to-"

"Shh. Stop fussing, I'm just braiding your hair."

"You know it makes me fall asleep."

"Then have a nap. You sleep too little."

"It's pathetic. Please Clarke, I can't both cuddle with you and have you play with my hair."

Clarke stilled her movements for a moment. "Why not?" she asked softly.

"It makes me feel like crying," Lexa admitted in an ashamed murmur. "It's embarrassing. My body isn't made for this."

Clarke chuckled a bit and picked up the braid in Lexa's hair again. "I think your body simply forgot what human contact felt like."

Lexa grunted and lifted her chin.

She couldn't help it. Clarke was so close and so beautiful, Lexa had to leen in for the umpteenth time to press a soft kiss on those lips. Clarke's hand tightened in her hair, pulling her closer and Lexa cupped Clarke's jaw, brushing mindlessly over the tiny, heart-shaped scar there.

"I've never done this before," Lexa blurted then.

"Done what?"

"You're the first person I ever hugged. Or cuddled with. Or kissed."

Clarke's face melted into a mix of softness and an empathetic furrow of her brows. "How old are you?"

"22."

Clarke stared at her for a moment. "22 and you've never hugged anyone? Oh Lexa, come here. Let me kiss you again. Let us stay like this forever."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

And so they stayed like that forever, or at least for a short while of it. They stayed like that, cuddled into each other either loosely or in the most intimate ways, for a brief eternity. Both their heads fought for dominance, you can't feel this, you're not allowed to, this is weak, this is too good for you. You're going to die. But it was a mission with no success. Their hearts had taken over their bodies and minds, craving those kisses and little touches, craving the closeness and the warmth and the scent of the other one.