Unfinished Business

Chapter 27

Clarke flinched slightly, opening her eyes and wincing at the crick in her neck. She was in the living room. Why was she in the living room? She readjusted her body and tried to think back. Oh shit. Oh shit, shit shit, shit, shit.

"How're you feeling?"
Clarke glanced over to find Raven curled up in a blanket and sitting in the chair with a cup of coffee in her lap.
"I made you some too," Raven said as she motioned to the end table.
Clarke twisted her body a little and grabbed the mug. As she took a sip, the warmth coated and soothed her exceptionally sore throat. It felt good – really fucking good and she was instantly grateful for it.
"How are you feeling?" Raven asked again.
Clarke swallowed. "My throat hurts," she answered quietly. It really did – a lot.
Raven grinned lightly and shook her head. "I can't imagine why," she chuckled. "Feel better, now that you got some of it out of your system?"
Clarke's brow furrowed. "How do you..." her eyes went wide as the realization hit her and a quick blush spread across her face. "Oh God. You were still here."
Raven nodded in confirmation, but didn't say anything.

Well fuck. Clarke wanted to sink into the floor. How could she have forgotten that they weren't alone? It all just happened so fast – they just got so caught up and, God, they had been so fucking loud.

"So, you heard everything?" Clarke questioned, feeling completely mortified.
Raven shook her head. "I heard enough," she answered. "That was – no joke, some seriously scary shit. You two were really, really loud."
"Rae," Clarke shook her head. Fuck. "I'm really..."
"It's fine," Raven assured her quickly. "Lexa already apologized."
"Where is she?" Clarke asked curiously as she sat up a bit more and looked around.
"Home, I would imagine." Raven replied with a shrug. "She left last night."
"Oh," Clarke dropped her head back onto the couch. Of course she left. Why wouldn't she?
"I...um," Raven stared down into her mug. "Okay, just so you know, I might have told her about your picture."
Clarke looked up, feeling oddly confused. "What picture?" She asked with a shrug.
"The one that used to hang in the hall," Raven pointed at the hallway. "You know, the one of her. I told her that you sold it."

Clarke felt her jaw clench slightly. Fuck. She wasn't mad. Not really anyway. It wasn't exactly a secret that the picture was gone, however, any and all of the information pertaining to it – well, that information was hers and she wouldn't be sharing it with anyone – not even with Lexa, should she inquire.

"When I came out of my room, she was in the hallway," Raven explained, almost sounding nervous, "just staring at your clock and I don't know – it just came out."
"It's fine, Rae," Clarke shook her head. "Really. I don't care that you told her. I'm sure that she would have found out eventually," she took another sip of her coffee and let her head fall back against the couch. Ugh.

The night had escalated so quickly, that in her head, Clarke was still trying to wrap her brain around it all. One minute they were just playing a game of chess, granted, it was a tense game, but still, and then the next thing she knew, they were screaming at each other – like full on screaming at each other. It was awful – just awful, but at the same time – it was great. Like, really fucking great.

It was raw and real - just pure emotion. It was devastating and liberating all at the same time. Lexa. Holy shit. Lexa was still full of fire. It was good to know - good to see. Though however heart wrenching the whole thing might have been to watch – there was something simply beautiful about seeing Lexa like that – just dropping her shield – all of her shields and allowing herself to be so exposed. She fought back. She actually fought back and let her emotions – her real emotions finally show. Lexa's pain, it wasn't just the physical effects of her anxiety. No. It was more than that – it ran deeper than that. It was emotional too and just as real as her own.

That was something that Clarke had been shocked to see – something that she hadn't expected and though part of her wanted to pretend that she hadn't see it, she couldn't – she just couldn't because she had. She had seen it and she knew that it was real. All of it.

Clarke hummed as she readjusted on the couch, feeling a light tingle buzzing through her bones. It was something familiar, something pleasant – something that she hadn't felt in a very long time and now, she really just needed to do something with it. Without wasting another moment, she hopped off of the couch and quickly went to her room to get changed and then dug around in her closet until she located a the large black tote bag that she hadn't touched in what felt like forever. "There you are," she grinned at it.

A few minutes later, as she made her way toward the front door, Raven called out after her.

"What?" Clarke asked as she spun on the spot, just in time to see her coming back into the living room.
"Where're you going?" Raven asked her curiously.
"Work," Clarke responded quickly.
"You're working today?" Raven's tone held complete confusion.
"Nope," Clarke replied simply as she turned and walked out of the apartment.

Thankfully, the ride to the gallery was quick and as soon as Clarke was inside she wasted little time pulling out her large H-frame easel and setting up her supplies. After a good ten minutes of digging in the back she found a huge blank canvas a proceeded to drag it out and set it in place on the easel. A few minutes later the room was filled with music and Clarke set herself to the task, without having the slightest idea what was coming or what she hoped to accomplish. All that she knew was that right here, was where she needed to be and that this, was what she needed to be doing. She stared at the canvas with a brush in her hand and the tiniest of grins on her face. She was ready.

From the moment Clarke dipped the brush into the paint and pressed it to the canvas, she was gone – lost in and endless sea of blending colors and brushstrokes. On occasion, her phone would ring or beep, but she paid it no mind. It didn't matter. In fact, nothing else mattered, nothing else was important. There was only this. This sense of peace that she found herself engulfed in, this release of creative expression that her soul had been denied for so long – this, was all that mattered.

The day wore on and she just continued to paint. Sometime finding herself laughing, sometimes suddenly realizing that she was crying, but still, she kept painting, reveling in every single moment of it and just losing herself in a zone that she had long forgotten the feel of. As the minutes became hours, day became dusk and then finally turned to darkness, Clarke leaned back against the table with a paintbrush in one hand and a partially eaten slice of pizza in the other, just admiring the image on the canvas before her.

She had created a massive wooded landscape, with a slight brook winding haphazardly through the center and evidence of a passing storm that could still be seen in the distance littered the ground. It was light and dark. The darkness departing and making way for the light. It was a perfect representation for everything that she was currently feeling.

Taking out her phone, Clarke snapped a quick photo and fired off a quick text. Only a few moments later, her phone came to life with a reply.

Niylah: It's beautiful.
Clarke: Thank you.
Niylah: It's been a long time.
Clarke: I know. I don't know – it just, hit me.
Niylah: Would it have anything to do with your game night?
Clarke: The game was a disaster. We ended up screaming at each other.
Niylah: Good. Sometimes, that helps.

Clarke stared at the message and then looked back at her painting, unable to suppress the tiny grin that was playing on her face. She could still feel that familiar tingle buzzing through her bones and she really hoped that it wasn't going to stop. In fact, she was ready to give just about anything to ensure that she didn't lose it again. It was like somehow, something had broken free during her and Lexa's screaming match and she had no desire to lock it back up again.

Clarke: Actually, I think it did.