3x7 [rewritten] | clexa

one

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Clarke looked beautiful, was the first thing Lexa thought. She stood there in the golden sunlight, tiny particles of dust glittering in the air in front of her like diamonds, yet only dirt compared to her eyes. The blue was brighter, more turqouise than azure, and her lashes caught the light of the finely carved window to accentuate their length.

Clarke looked dazzling, but if Lexa was honest, that hadn't really been her first thought.

The door had closed shut only seconds ago and Lexa's hope had sunk considerably upon the sound. As soon as she'd seen Clarke then, all the words had been already spoken silently, everything that had needed to be said poured out of their unusually telling eyes.

Lexa had still asked when exactly Clarke would leave. She managed only as much as a nod in response to the unavoidable answer 'now', because there she was and she faltered, the great Commander stood there in her chambers where no one was supposed to see her, and she was so fragile in front of Clarke.

"I'm sorry," Clarke tried to apologize, to explain. She didn't need to. Lexa knew.

"Don't be. You have to go back to your people, that's why I-"

It was only a fragment of a second that passed. Clarke's eyes shot up, gleaming so beautifully, and Lexa tried to deny herself the hope she saw within them. Lexa stuttered. She hadn't done so in years.

This moment, however short, Lexa realized that she was afraid of this. Because she stood there with her heart entirely open and bare, offered to Clarke in blood-stained hands with no way to defend herself of it.

She had missed to put on her stoic face. She had stumbled in her natural movement when Clarke had confirmed she was leaving. She had slipped and almost, almost told Clarke the last bit her heart was trying to hide away.

"- that's why you're you," she finished hurriedly with a weak smile. Clarke returned it and nodded, yet Lexa had the feeling her slip-up hadn't gone entirely unnoticed.

"Maybe one day, you and I will owe nothing more to our people," Clarke tried to comfort. It meant more than just that in this moment- it meant a little bit of forgiveness, it meant a vision without war and without betrayals.

"I hope so."

Insecurity got added to the mix of unfamiliar emotions in Lexa, because whenever Lexa hoped that this, just that particular little moment belonged to them alone, Clarke brought up her people.

This isn't about my people for me.

Lexa stuck out her arm, a soft smile on her face that spoke of hope, yet no belief that such idea of peace would ever work out. "May we meet again."

Clarke grasped her arm and Lexa held onto Clarke just a little too tight. Clarke felt warm, even through her shirt.

The fabric is too coarse to be comfortable. Who the hell was in charge of her clothing?

Clarke smiled at Lexa, something meant to give reassurement, strength, but all it did was leaving a little crack of love in Lexa's heart. She smiled back, just a tad forcedly, trying to contain herself for just as long as Clarke would still be there.

Her hair is still dirty. Did anybody dare to give Clarke a cold, quick bath only?

Something in Clarke's expression faltered, crumpled as though a sudden thought had taken upon her or maybe a thought that had been there all along and finally pushed past a more dominant one.

She's beautiful.

Lexa felt a small tug on her arm instead of the awaited release, Clarke closed the space between them and then, Lexa's world simply collapsed.