fragile | clexa

chapter seventy nine

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Clarke's legs felt better the next day, but she couldn't do much but standing anyway. So Lexa carried her to the beach (partly for Clarke's sake, partly because she had to prove that she could carry Clarke just as well) and then took her for a ride on the horse.

Since Clarke begged Lexa to teach her to ride too, she decided it would be safe enough to let Clarke try. Holding the horse and walking next to it, she led Clarke for a while first.

Then, she mounted the horse behind Clarke but let the latter hold the reigns, riding the thankfully calm horse for a few steps until she realized it wasn't that hard after all. Lexa taught her how to make it go right or left, how to stop and how to fasten the pace, and by the time it was evening, Clarke didn't feel she had wasted her day at all even despite her legs.

Lexa made dinner because it required more standing and walking and to compensate, Clarke did the dishes. The rest of the evening passed in comfortable silence. Lexa went for a sunset walk while Clarke watched it from the patio and when Lexa came back, she found Clarke curled up on the couch with yarn in her lap, concentrated on a little soft something in her hands.

She kicked her boots off without paying much attention to them, staring at Clarke in amazement. "What are you doing?"

"Crocheting. Trying to, more rather."

"You can crochet? I didn't know that." Lexa sat on the couch opposite of Clarke, inspecting the round, even piece Clarke had produced so far.

"I read a book about it and thought I might as well try. My grandma taught me a little, it's not that difficult."

"You met your grandma?"

Clarke nodded. "I must've forgotten to tell you. She hasn't aged a day, can you believe that? She's so tough anyway. She has more biceps than you," she added and Lexa raised her brows with a grunt. Clarke looked up in response and chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to get in the way of your pride. You have amazing biceps."

"Mhm. Tell me about that... thing in your hands instead. What are you making?"

"I'm trying a stuffed animal."

So Clarke kept crocheting and Lexa kept watching intently. Somewhen, their positions shifted and Clarke stretched her legs out over one length of the couch while Lexa laid down on the other, keeping her head in Clarke's lap and holding the yarn for her. Occasionally she would tug at it if Clarke needed more.

After a little nap and some time of just enjoying the contact, Lexa grew bored and started playing with the yarn. Then, the couch, her sleeves, the thing in Clarke's hands that evolved into the shape of a teddy bear.

Clarke gently shoved her fingers away soon, though. "Hey, I need to work on this."

Lexa grunted and turned her head to bury it in Clarke's stomach. "I'm bored."

"So do something."

"Like what?"

"Read."

"I don't have books."

"I do. Like- your own biography. Okay, fine. Crochet too. I have another bit of yarn and a hook."

"I can't. You need to teach me."

"Paint."

"I can't."

Clarke laughed and stopped her work to fully focus on the grumpy face in her lap. "I don't think I've ever experienced you bored."

"I should've taken that paperwork after all."

"Definitely not." Clarke loosely brushed through Lexa's hair and looked at her. "Why don't you try painting? Everyone can do that, toddlers can. You don't need to be good at it. You said you wanted to try out art."