fragile | clexa

seventy

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Breakfast wasn't as awkward as Lexa had expected it to be, but she was still glad when it was over. She stayed with Clarke over the day, and they very consciously played board games or read books with a polite distance between them in case someone would come in again.

By the time the sun had set, it knocked at the door and Jake came in. He was dressed in a rather fine suit and his hair was neatly combed back. "Clarke, your mother and I had planned to go to the theatre tonight, but Raven and Anya are out as well. Do you think you're fine on your own tonight or would you like us to stay?"

"Oh no, I'm good."

Then he turned to Lexa. "You're welcome to stay the night if you wish, Heda. Otherwise Clarke, please make sure that the doors are locked properly after she leaves. We didn't want you to have it in case you needed our help suddenly, but I'll put the key to your room right here so that you can lock your room too, should something happen."

"Okay," Clarke nodded. "Thank you."

"Make sure you're safe, yeah? There are knives in the kitchen but also in the cupboard in the hallway, and for an emergency, you know that our swords are in the living room and our bedroom, so should something happen-"

"I'll defend myself, I know."

"Don't take this too lightly, Clarke, I'm not so comfortable to leave you alone for the night."

"Don't worry, sir," Lexa cut in. "I'll simply stay the night and you can be sure that no one will wrongly put a finger on her. I promise."

"Thank you, Heda," the man breathed relieved and bowed his head. "That calms me a little. We're far indebted to you, if there's ever anything that could make up for all the things you've done for us, please let us know. I have to go now, Abby hates it when I'm late, good night."

"Good night, have fun," Clarke said with a polite smile.

"Good night, sir, enjoy the theatre."

-

Lexa and Clarke took full advantage of being alone. They cooked themselves dinner and although Lexa had lived with Clarke for months, in a tent and then her chambers, this felt different. There was something so domestic in the way Clarke stood by the old stove and instructed Lexa on the ingredients to bring and where to find them, dressed in simple cotton pants and a large crocheted sweater. There was something so domestic about Lexa dressed very similar in the clothes she had borrowed from Clarke, setting the table and assisting Clarke with cooking, both in the small, homey kitchen of Clarke's parents.

It felt so right. She felt so normal. Like this was all she was ever supposed to do, wear knitted cardigans and cook pasta with Clarke in such a sweet little house that for the moment, they had all for themselves.

Gently, she wrapped her arms around Clarke from behind and placed a kiss on her exposed neck, watching the sauce steam in the pan. "I love you," she mumbled.

"You're cheesy," Clarke grinned but her heart beat a little faster and she turned her head to steal a kiss from Lexa's lips anyway.

Lexa only hummed against Clarke's shoulder.

"I love you too," Clarke then said and felt Lexa smile against her skin.

"That's nice."

"Mhm."

"You know what would be nice too?"

"A baby cow?"

"No. Well, I suppose that too. But also this, every day."