heda | clexa

twenty three

While their clothes are drying, Clarke distracts herself with the fishes. At some point, she sits at the edge of the pond to let her feet dangle, and when she notices a blueberry shrub, she's off to pick berries. 

Given that Clarke's hands are tied and useless, Lexa gets up to help, and ten minutes later their fingertips and lips are stained a sweet purple. The sun beats down on them through the protective shadow of the leaves and the air is humming and buzzing with bees, butterflies and annoying mosquitoes. 

When they return to the warm grass, Lexa lays down and Clarke follows suit right next to her. It's all for convenience, of course. This way, Lexa can feed Clarke berries much better. 

It has nothing to do with the fact that their sugary hands find one another loosely after a while, that their purple-stained fingers dance around each other nervously until they intertwine, that the other's skin is warm and so comfortable to the touch.

It has nothing to do with how much Lexa is drawn to Clarke like the wasps are to their blueberries. 

It has nothing to do with how much Clarke loves the proximity, with those gentle looks and careful touches. 

Lexa's skin is freckled and sunkissed, her eyes glowing green with golden spots, an entire gemstone mine in those depths. Her lips look honeyed and sweet with their blueberry stains, pink underneath the purple, pillowy and soft. Clarke can't help letting her eyes travel from Lexa's eyes down once in a while, especially when she manages to draw a smile from Lexa, because oh Gods, she's gorgeous when she smiles.

It would be obvious to anyone else, the way Clarke has already sold her soul and heart both to this woman. It would be obvious to anyone else, the heavy eyes that are so fixed on Lexa, the unsteady heartbeat, the hand that holds Lexa's so close. 

It would be obvious to anyone but Lexa. Lexa, who is too busy drowning in the oceans of Clarke's eyes. Lexa, who is too busy hating herself for that. Lexa, who is too busy praying to her God for forgiveness for her thoughts. Lexa, who is too busy believing she's such a terrible monster for thinking about Clarke's pretty lips.

"Lexa?" Clarke murmurs at some point and pulls Lexa from her thoughts.

"Hm?"

"I'm not going to stop telling you my opinions when we talk, and I enjoy hearing yours, but I don't want to hurt you. And I don't have a grand scheme to ruin your life."

"I know," Lexa answers softly. "I'm sorry I said those things. It's not your fault that I'm not strong enough in my belief. This is exactly what it should be able to withstand. You're not responsible to remind me to be grateful."

Clarke shrugs. "How about you teach me a gratitude prayer? One with things you're actually grateful for."

Lexa smiles. "I don't have one to teach you. It's not a script, the list always varies."

"There are no recitable verses of that list you could force me to learn by heart?" Clarke teases and Lexa smiles wider. She squeezes Clarke's hand and turns to look up at the sky. 

"The current list only consists of two words."

"Uh oh, I'm a bad omen. Two words is real short. Should I go so that the rest of the dictionary returns? Cleanse bad energy and stuff?"

Lexa laughs softly and dares to rest her head against Clarke's shoulder. "That would be counterproductive, given that the two words are 'right now'. You leaving would spoil the whole thing."

"Oh," Clarke breathes stupidly and doesn't manage to say anything else. It's the perfect opening for a tease or a flirt, but all Clarke can do is hold Lexa a little closer and pray that 'right now' is going to last a long, long time.