Make Christmas Your Bitch

Chapter 70

Lexa put Clarke's backpack in her office and she was about to take her duffle to her bedroom when Clarke stopped her.

"You've started packing?" She gestured at the boxes already stacked against the far wall, and Lexa's office did look a lot more bare than the last time she had seen it.

"Yeah. Figured if I do it that way, and get a bit done every day, it won't be as big a shitshow when I'm ready to go." She took Clarke's duffle to her bedroom.

"What's your schedule?" Clarke asked as she followed, because this felt a lot bigger than just a relocation for a job. Seeing the boxes made that point really clear and she was both excited and nervous.

"I'm getting one of those pod things. Talked to them yesterday. I'll be loading it February twentieth," she said as she put Clarke's duffle on a wooden luggage stand that she got out of the closet and set up. Nobody else she knew had one of those, and Clarke smiled, then realized what she had said.

"The twentieth?"

"Yeah."

"So are you coming then, too?"

"No, I'm here until the twenty-fifth, finishing some stuff up." She grinned. "So I'm trying to get everything packed before then."

Clarke took her hand. "Can I help?"

"I don't think so. I've got this."

"Do you want to put some of your stuff in my garage?"

"It'll fit in the pod, but thanks."

"What about movers?"

"Lined up." She pulled Clarke with her to the kitchen. "Want wine? I opened a bottle."

"Yes. Let me get the bottle I brought. Because I have a feeling we may open that one this weekend, too."

"I fully support that," Lexa said as she poured wine into a glass.

Clarke retrieved the other bottle from the stand near the front door where Lexa kept a basket for keys and her wallet and whatever else she needed before she left for the day and it was like Clarke was really seeing these things for the first time, all the little quirks she had in terms of where she put things and how she ran her own household and she stood, staring at the basket.

She wanted to see that every day. And as she glanced around the living room, she wanted to see these things every day, too. Everything in this apartment, everything associated with Lexa, she wanted to see every day.

"Are you okay with meat in the lasagna?" Lexa asked from the kitchen doorway and Clarke jerked her attention to her.

"Definitely."

She looked at her, puzzled. "All good?" she asked as Clarke approached.

"Yep. Just...thinking." She cupped her face with her free hand and kissed her. Every fucking day, she wanted to see her and the things in her life, and that was a big thought, with bigger feelings, and she wasn't sure where it came from. Or maybe it had always been there and finally, it could roam around her head because possibility had become reality.

Lexa took the bottle from her and put it in a wine rack designed to stand in a corner.

"I want to help you with this move," Clarke said as she washed her hands.

"And I appreciate that, but there's not really anything logistically you can do," Lexa said. She handed Clarke the glass of wine she had just poured and washed her hands again. A big pot of water stood on the stove and Lexa turned the burner up under that. Clarke took a sip of wine, set it down, and got the package of ground Italian sausage out of the fridge, along with a container of ricotta and a bag of fresh spinach. Lexa had already put spices on the small rolling island she kept in the kitchen, along with a jar of organic marinara.