fragile | clexa

chapter fifty eight

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"Did I say something wrong?" Clarke asked after a while that Lexa hadn't managed to get a word out.

"Wha- no, oh my God, I just think like my heart died, sorry, I mean- I mean I love you too," Lexa stuttered. Her cheeks were red in embarrassment, but Clarke just chuckled and Lexa swore no one had a more beautiful smile than Clarke.

"Oh my God," a voice sounded from behind them and they turned around to see Anya stick two fingers in her mouth, mimicking throwing up. "That was the grossest thing I have ever witnessed."

"Anya," Lexa snapped, back straightening and hand tightening around Clarke. "Do you have no business yourself to care about that it must be mine?"

"I can't believe you're acting like a teenager in love for the first time."

"Well, that's because I am. You should thank Clarke instead of bothering us. She saved your life too."

"Yeah, whatever blondie. Thanks. That dress looks hella good on ya, by the way. I do get Lexa."

"Um- thank you?" Clarke replied hesitantly and Lexa shot Anya a glare.

"Leave, Anya."

"I would have rather not at all come. You really are great at love confessions. Let me never hear one again."

Lexa sighed after Anya had fallen back a bit on her horse. "I'm sorry. She doesn't hate you."

"Sure?"

"She doesn't hate you more than she hates everyone," Lexa corrected. "Her wife and me are the only exceptions, but me only on good days," she said with a crooked grin.

"She has a wife?" it slipped out of Clarke incredulously and the blonde blushed hearing her own words. "I didn't mean it like that," she added immediately.

Lexa laughed. "You totally did."

"But she's so hostile. Is she always like that?"

"Yup, pretty much. But her wife is practically Anya in friendly, so they get along pretty well."

"Anya in friendly? How does that work?"

-

TonDC had built up tents for everyone to sleep in, but there was still not enough space for all the warriors. They simply opened camp outside of the town, already up to cooking soup for everyone.

Lexa's speech was only short, praising Clarke and her courage and announcing a celebration in Polis. The crowd that had assembled as soon as the horns of the Heda's return had been blown was cheering and clapping, but only one person kept going after everyone had already stopped.

"That's my girl!" the familiar voice yelled. "The golden one! She baked with me! That's my girl!"

Clarke blushed at old Berta's applause, or perhaps she blushed at everyone's applause. She wasn't used to so many eyes on her in a good way. Lexa helped her down the horse only out of politeness, because Clarke could still walk fully normal.

As soon as Clarke and Lexa had pushed throught the path the crowd made for them and reached their tent, Clarke was crushed in a pair of arms. "Ow," she complained when Octavia pulled away from her and checked her for any injuries.

"Oh my God. You made it."

"I wouldn't have without you and Lincoln."

"It was you," Octavia insisted and sighed, hugging Clarke again. "Have I told you yet that you actually look like a goddess in this dress?"