Clexa AU °Safe Haven° [#Wattys2016]

Chapter 8: Who am I to you? Pt.1

Lexa's POV

When I wake up and sit on my mattress, the bed above me is already empty. There's a sun shining through open windows, making the room fresher and brighter. I breathe in deeply before standing up, slightly dizzy, reaching for some clothes to change to. They're in Clarke's closet, although I didn't want them there because it seems too nosy. I pick up casual gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt alongside with some underwear and quickly change from my old pajamas. There's a small gap between the door when I come out of the place, hearing loud noise from downstairs.

I slowly step on the staircase, going down carefully, listening to the sound and trying to find out what it is.
"Fuck!" An angry voice screams, following with a really loud bang. I guess someone's cooking.

And I'm right. When I reach the bottom, I continue walking to the kitchen and there she is; holding a pan with some unrecognizable white stuff on it, floating in an oil. I think it's supposed to be a pancake.

"Clarke?" I call but soon I realize that it was not enough; she turned on the cooking hood which is louder than any other sound in this house.
"CLARKE," I say louder, putting my right leg in front of the other, heading towards her back turned to me. On the floor, there is a large spot of "pancakes" which prevents me from going further.

She turns around when I stop exactly in front of the slimy spot, jumping a little seeing me there. She puts the pan down and turns off the hood.

"God, you scared me." She breathes heavily, recovering from the little shock.
"Making breakfast?" I say, switching my glares from the floor to her and back, grinning slightly.
"Well," she says, folding her arms, "I tried. For like 10 times already."
"What did the pancakes do to you?"
Clarke's lips lift. "I burnt myself four times, burnt the pancakes three times and the last three weren't eatable because they fell when I was too impatient and played with them a little."

I keep grinning at the floor, leaning to the table behind me. "You must be hungry."
"Yeah," she frowns, "bad day for cooking. Normally I can make myself a breakfast, trust me."

After a while, I look up and catch her staring at me, suddenly frantically looking for some other thing and pretending it didn't happen. I decide to leave it that way.
"I can help you clean it If you want."
Her eyes meet mine again, sign of relief overpowering her face.
"That would be amazing." She says, immediately looking away again, reaching for the rag. "Thank you. I can try to cook something meanwhile but I can't promise it'll not poison you."

I smile, taking the bright green rag from her hand. "I have a better idea," I say, raising my eyebrows, "you apparently don't have your day. So why don't you order us something?"
"Can you order a breakfast?" Confusion takes over her face.
"When I think about it, you probably can't." I say, kneeling down. This is so weird. "Maybe we could.." I pause nervously, taking a deep breath. "Go somewhere?"

I start scouring the wooden parquets, my hand little shaky. I feel Clarke kneeling to my level; she doesn't help.
"Sorry, I just felt bad standing when you're down here." She has another rag in her hand, now helping me clean the mess. "Sure, we can go somewhere. There's one café nearby, they have good breakfast menus."
I nod, finally finishing my part and getting up. "I'll go up and change then. See you in a minute."

. . .

"Sooo.." Clarke whispers, reading the menu. I'm surprised they still have morning's one, it's already 11:50AM. "I'll have the blueberry pancakes with chocolate. And a black coffee."
Everyone's looking at me, waiting for my order. "Oh, I'll have the same. Thank you." I say, too lazy and hungry to go through the whole list of food.