7 years too late (clexa)

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

The rain was tapping violently against the window, leaving fat drops to roll over the glass until they fell down to the street. Lexa was sitting on the border, watching the grey fog of rainy days in the city make its way around the buildings. There was a swirl of umbrellas down there, sometimes poking each other, the only spots of color in the autumnal picture.

The brunette heard a sigh before a hot mug was pushed into her hands, Anya taking a seat by her side.

"You okay there?"

Green eyes settled back on the flow of people down below.

"Yeah."

It was one of those days. Most of the time, Lexa was fine. She would go to work, greet her employees, go through papers, get lunch (when she didn't forget), work some more and then come back home where she would usually watch TV before she went to sleep. She wasn't alone. Puppy (the cat) was there, and sometimes Anya would pass by. She wasn't lonely. She wasn't.

And most of all, she wasn't missing her. She did not picture her blonde curls spread out on the pillows in the morning. Did not miss her laughter, the way her smile lit up the room. Did not long for her baby blue eyes to hold her gaze just long enough for that warmth to settle on her chest. Did not crave the feeling of her soft skin against her own, calling to her like hot chocolate and ice cream. Lexa did not miss Clarke.

"You've been here for long?"

The brunette didn't answer, choosing to close her eyes briefly instead.

"Okay", Anya abandoned with a sigh. "Look. This is not healthy. You need to see people."

"I'm seeing you right now."

"Lexa."

The stern tone had the younger girl look up.

"Anya."

"You know what? I'm going to leave you be for now. But it's been 7 years, Lex. You're allowed to move on", she softened then. "You deserve to be happy."
There was a moment of silence, charged with anguish, before the soft whisper came.

"No I don't."

***

7 years and 8 months ago

"Violets?"

"No."

Clarke smiled, pressing a kiss into the crook of her girlfriend's neck.

"Vanilla? My father used to say I smelled like vanilla."

"Hmmm...", the brunette nuzzled the younger woman's hair, inhaling softly.

"Nope."

The paler girl drew her head back a few inches to look into her favorite green gaze.

"Coconut? Peach? Chocolate?"

Lexa chuckled, caressing the side of the blonde's face and looking at her like she would burst out with tenderness any second.

"No", she stated one last time. "You, my love, smell of stardust." She placed a lingering kiss on the top of her lover's nose. "Of sunrise." A kiss on her forehead. "Rain", on her temple. "Rainbows", she finally joined their lips together gently. "And Summer roses. You smell of love and safety. You smell of the future, of trust."

Clarke was now completely done with teasing and games, completely overwhelmed by the wave of love crashing on her. This woman would be the death of her.

"You, Clarke Griffin, smell of home."

Their fingers found each other's under the covers, holding as tightly as their gazes were.