heda | clexa

eighteen

Almost as soon as Clarke is done talking, Lexa takes her hands back to herself and steps back, not even looking Clarke into the eyes. "Take your bath," she says with an edge. "Call me when you're done."

Clarke stares at Lexa. "What's wrong?"

Lexa, however, is already on her way out.

"Lexa, I can't wash myself! My hands are tied together! Gods, fuck you! Was this your plan all along? Leave me helpless and naked for one of your men to pick up?"

Lexa stares back at her with tears in her dark eyes. "I would never do that."

"That's what you're doing right now."

"I'm not leaving!"

"You're on your way to walk out that damn door right now! What, does my body disgust you so much?"

"Go find someone else to worship you."

Clarke blows out a breath, eyes stinging hot. "That's what you think this is?"

"Your temple references are clear, Clarke. If you prefer to live arrogant and greedy and burn forever, that's your choice, not mine."

"You were fine five minutes ago!"

"No, I wasn't fine five minutes ago! You tempted me into this whole mess!"

"Oh, is that it? Right, how silly of me to forget that I'm the big, bad devil luring innocent women into traps. Oh no, Lexa, you brought this upon yourself. I asked you to, yes, but you answered. You put your hands on mine, and on my face, and on my waist, and stomach."

"No, you put my hands on your stomach. I never fucking wanted to touch it!" Lexa yells and Clarke draws back.

Did Lexa just use 'fucking' in a sentence? Did she just yell?

Well holy shit, wonders really do never cease to happen.

"This isn't about me being naked, is it? This is about my stomach. This is what I said about children. What, do you really want so badly to religiously provide child after child to your precious husband in absolute submission? Does it bother you so much that I call it valuable?"

Tears spill over Lexa's cheeks and she clenches her jaw hard. "Get in the tub and I'm going to wash you. One more word and I will take care of a gag."

Clarke scoffs. "Freedom of speech, huh?"

Lexa's eyes are icy. Here it is, that anger Clarke has been waiting for to finally show. "If you don't like the idea of a gag, perhaps you would rather I kill you right here."

_

The moonset is dark and red from the bedroom window. The prisoners in the tents are still out- it must not be curfew quite yet. Clarke imagines she sees Emori there, and wonders if Luna is alright.

She wonders if all of them are alright. Their teachers seemed rough from the beginning. If sweet, innocent Lexa is starting with murder threats, Clarke doesn't want to know what methods the others are implementing.

Lexa did bathe her, but it was a quiet, rigid endeavor. She helped Clarke get dressed, relocated her chains to the bedroom and went downstairs.

Clarke is half convinced that Lexa is going to sleep on the couch until she notices Lexa back upstairs. As usual, it's not noise that gives her away. Creepily, she moves as quietly as ever, but a sweet scent precedes her.

Lexa stops next to Clarke's bed. Perhaps it was a bad idea to sit on the bed's edge, facing the window rather than the door. If Lexa was to make true of her threat and kill Clarke, it would only take a knife.