The moment Lexa takes her seat in the car beside Anya and shuts her door she exhales loudly and says with wide eyes, “An, I have a problem.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Lex,” Anya replies with a shit-eating grin, putting the car in gear.

“Okay, rude, I’m not even going to tell you now!” Lexa says, crossing her arms and staring dramatically out the passenger door window. For a good minute, Lexa just watches the empty trees passing outside trying not to think about all the ways tonight could go horribly, ignoring her sister’s attempts to get her attention.

“Oh come on you know you’re perfect! Tell me what’s going on! Please?” Anya literally pouts, dragging out the “please” for a good while.

Lexa rolls her eyes. “Fine. Clarke invited me over to hang out with her and Octavia tonight. And I said yes. And it is not just any hanging out, no—it’s a sleep over! What the hell am I supposed to do?” Lexa sighs loudly.

“Okay just chill, Lex, it’s fine if Octavia’s there then there is nothing to worry about! I’m sure she will be a great buffer from what you’ve told me! Anyways, you’re cool, just go with the flow.”

Lexa scoffs, “Okay, An, but consider this: when have I ever gone with the flow? And since when have I been cool?”

“Fair point. But! It will be fine and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll give you fifty dollars for instilling a false sense of hope. Deal?”

Lexa huffs, “Deal.”

Lexa has just under two hours to prepare herself for the night. “Anya? What do you bring to a sleep over?” Lexa shouts down the stairs.

“Uh, clothes and a tooth brush might be a good start?” Anya says with a laugh.

Lexa nearly face-palms and gasps, “Toothbrush! Oh my God!” She frantically runs to the bathroom to grab her toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss and hastily throws them onto the bed; she needs a bag for them still. She’s already got an idea of what she wants to bring for clothing. For pajamas, she packs a pair of blue plaid boxers, baggy gray sweatpants, and a plain white t-shirt that’s a size too big; for the next day she packs a pair of stretchy black skinny jeans and a long-sleeve gray shirt. She packs a cardigan as well in case it is chilly.

With most of her things packed, Lexa decides it might be good to take a shower before heading over to Clarke’s; she always feels a little gross coming home from school. She spends a little extra time in the shower just to make sure she’s really clean, and also because she has just a little too much time to kill before she will be leaving for Clarke’s. When she gets out, she lets her hair dry on its own, resulting in somewhat frizzy, wavy hair. She decides to just pull on a pair of gray dress pants and a light blue button-down with lavender bow tie with small white polka dots. Her belt and shoes are black, but she’s foregoing the suspenders tonight.

Lexa still has a half hour to kill before she has to leave so she flops down on the bed and lets out a long breath. She doesn’t know exactly why she’s so nervous, but she thinks it might have something to do with the fact that when Octavia’s around, she feels like she needs to be funny all the time. That’s not to say Octavia isn’t a good friend, but Lexa feels like she can be real with Clarke. She’s never had a friend like Clarke. Hell, she hasn’t had many friends at all.

Lexa knows this train of thought isn’t getting her anywhere and with twenty-five minutes to sit through, she brings a backpack stuffed to the brim with clothing down the stairs and tosses it by the door, next to her shoes to make sure she won’t forget it. “How is work going, An?”

Anya had a big project at work, trying to make a huge sales pitch for a new account. Anya works for their mother and father’s company, Woods & Trikru, which specializes in aerospace engineering and aerial products, ranging from commercial airplanes to military grade helicopters. Anya has been working on a pitch for a major airline for no less than three months, and in just a couple months more, she will finally give her pitch to United Airlines. Their father had always wanted both Anya and Lexa to get involved with the business, to take it over when he retires, and while Lexa has never been interested, Anya truly has a magic touch when it comes to sales. Not that she really needs the job, though, because their father always made sure to work extra hard to pay for everything his girls could ever want.

Anya blows out a breath loudly through her mouth, her eyes widening minutely, “This morning, I submitted the terms I’ll be presenting to United, along with the presentation I made for the proposal. We’ve already met with them once before to discuss a few minor things, just to set a baseline for what we will all be expecting. My reports have been compiled and copied ad nauseam, enough for every potential board member for Woods & Trikru as well as United. Finally in that final stretch, just gotta practice my speech, check over the preliminary paperwork, and get United on our client list. No biggie, yeah?”

“You know, that may be the understatement of the year, An, congratulations!” Anya scoffs and rolls her eyes, “But really, you are so close to done, we both know you have this on lock. If anyone can get United on board, it would undoubtedly be you.”

“Thanks for the ego boost, kid,” Anya smirks and Lexa sees her hand lift up to scruff her hair and she quickly shifts away with a small glare.

Anya puts on a big pout and Lexa just whines, “Oh come on don’t do that! Fine, but be careful, I just brushed it.”

Anya musses Lexa’s hair with a big smile on her face; Lexa just goes right to fixing her hair again once Anya stops. “So what are you three going to be doing tonight?”

“I am not so sure. Clarke said it was going to be a movie night, but she said I could sleep over and have dinner with them too, so I imagine there will be more to it than just a movie? But I really don’t know.”

Lexa’s leg is bouncing as she struggles to remain in place on the couch, getting more anxious to leave, watching the minutes tick by on a digital clock. There are still ten minutes before they need to leave. Anya places her hand on Lexa’s leg. “Okay, Lex, you need to loosen up a little. It’s going to be fine.”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept over someone’s house, let alone someone—someone like Clarke Griffin.”

“You’ll be fine, Lex. I promise, if you aren’t having a good time, you can call me at any time and I’ll just come pick you up, okay?” Lexa nods, biting her lip. Anya pats Lexa’s knee and stands up, “How about we just go and arrive early, mm?”

“Is that rude? I don’t want to arrive before they can prepare.”

Anya can still see the worry clear in Lexa’s face. “I just think you’ll feel better if we can get this show on the road. Sitting around doing nothing isn’t doing you any good.” Lexa still looks apprehensive and Anya sighs, “I’ll drive slow?” Lexa nods, grabs her bag and heads out the door to the car.

All throughout the car ride, Lexa is biting her lip, wringing her hands a little in her lap, glancing at the clock every minute. Anya pulls off the main road into a very well-kept neighborhood. The house is—well, it’s huge. Really huge. It’s painted white and has stone accent walls on the outside and Lexa wonders if the inside will be as outrageously magnificent as the outside. Of course, the house Anya and Lexa share is very nice and certainly more than large enough for two people, but Anya doesn’t like asking her father for money, especially considering she already gets paid by his company. Lexa takes a deep breath before turning to smile at Anya, “Thanks for the ride, An. ”

“Any time. And remember, you can call me if you need me,” Anya tells her with a smile. Lexa nods and exits the car. Lexa barely hears the car pull away and tries to muster up some courage to make a good impression with Clarke’s parents and not seem bizarre to Clarke and Octavia.

She walks slowly to the door, her backpack slung over her right shoulder, her left hand shoved into her pocket, fiddling with the loose strings that sit in the corner. She stands at the door, which is really two huge wood doors with glass panels, and waits just a moment before ringing the doorbell. Inside the house Lexa hears a shout that sounds not unlike someone is yelling for Clarke. The door on the right side opens and Clarke’s face is bright with an enthusiastic welcoming smile, “Lexaaa! Come in!” Clarke is excitedly grabbing Lexa’s right hand and dragging her through the doorway. “Mom! Dad! Lexa’s here!” Clarke shouts. She turns to look at Lexa, still pulling her through the house, “I hope this isn’t a deal-breaker but I guess something came up and O couldn’t make it tonight so it’ll just be you and me!”

Lexa smiles at her and God Clarke sounds so excited still, there is only one possible response: “Of course!” But on the inside, Lexa is feeling herself heading a bit further into panic mode now that she knows her buffer won’t be there. She doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, however, because she is being dragged into the kitchen where two people are standing at the counters.

“Mom, Dad, this is Lexa! Lexa, this is—well, Mom and Dad!” Clarke chuckles lowly to herself.

Clarke’s mom sticks her hand out first after wiping her hand on a dish towel, “Hello, dear, nice to meet you,” she says with a warm smile. “You can just call me Abby—it’s a bit soon to be calling me ‘Mom,’ don’t you think, Clarke?” Clarke just shrugs.

Lexa shakes her hand and smiles, “Perhaps. Lovely to meet you, Abby.”

Clarke’s father is next and he just laughs, “You can call me Jake, or Dad if you really wanted to.”

Lexa feels her own face wrinkling up around her eyes; she likes these people, “Nice to make your acquaintance, Jake.”

“Geez, Lex no need to be so formal. I think your outfit alone tells us how serious and professional you are,” Clarke jokes, nudging Lexa’s shoulder.

Lexa blushes and ducks her head for a moment before looking at each of the people in front of her, “Is this too much?”

“You look awesome! I’m just messing with you.” Clarke turns to her parents and quips, “Can you believe she dresses like this every day? And hey, you actually changed your whole outfit!”

“I’m certainly impressed—I can barely get myself out of bed in the morning to put on the same suit I wear every day!” Jake laughs as he begins to turn around to continue tossing a salad.

Abby counters, “I’ve got it easy—just throw on a pair of scrubs and good to go!” She is stirring a pot on the stove and the kitchen smells amazing. “I hope you’re good with pasta, Lexa, because we’ve got heaps tonight!”

“Always. Who isn’t okay with pasta?”

Jake turns to face them briefly with a smile on his face, “I like this one Clarkey,” he says, using his tongs to point at Lexa.

Lexa blushes but then realizes Jake had said “Clarkey” which makes Lexa giggle and murmur to Clarke, “Clarkey? That’s cute…”

Clarke merely groans before suggesting, “Come on, let’s set the table.”

Clarke and Lexa waited at the table while Abby and Jake continued bustling around the kitchen. Clarke stands and asks, “Want anything to drink? Weee’ve got cranberry juice, orange juice, ginger ale, like twenty different types of seltzer aaand of course water.”

“Water would be excellent, thank you.” Clarke nods and walks to the fridge to pull out a pitcher that filters water and gets two cut crystal glasses from the cabinet to pour some water into. She comes back and places one cup in front of Lexa and one in front of herself. They are seated again so that Lexa is at one end of the table and Clarke is on her right. When the food is done, Abby walks over holding a massive pot of angel hair pasta coated in a thin layer of sauce and Jake is holding another set of tongs. They serve Lexa first, two heaps of pasta on a large plate, and once everyone’s plate has a large serving of pasta on it, they come back around with the salad bowl, filling her bowl with salad and offering her several different dressings. She ultimately chooses the raspberry vinaigrette.

“Excellent choice with the raspberry vinaigrette, Lexa,” Jake says, “My wife and my daughter are caesar snobs and refuse to accept the purity that is raspberry vinaigrette.”

“It’s too zippy, Dad,” Clarke grimaces. Abby nods along, making a thoroughly disgusted face.

“I am inclined to disagree, Clarke. Sure it has some tang, but it is counterbalanced by the sweet of the raspberries. Plus, it tastes good on every combination of salad ingredients,” Lexa refutes.

“See! It’s not just me! Did I already say I like her? Hell, even if I have, I will say it again: I like this girl, Clarke, she’s a keeper!” The implication of that statement makes both girls flush red and avoid each others’ eyes. The girls may be blind to how they feel for each other, but Abby and Jake had been hearing about Clarke’s new friend for weeks, Lexa this and Lexa that, but Clarke’s excitement made it hard to be annoyed at constantly hearing about her. Abby tries to keep her snickering to herself and gestures for Jake to cut it out before telling the girls to dig in.

Dinner is quiet aside from occasional questions regarding their days. There is no interrogation and their conversation sounds casual, normal. Throughout dinner, Lexa has the strangest feeling as she is treated not as an observer, but almost as if she is a part of the family. Now, of course, Lexa knew that is too far to take this, but Clarke’s family makes her feel included, naturally. Lexa never thought a family dinner could feel quite so good. Spending time with Anya is always nice, but Anya’s still her sister despite having to take on more of a caretaker role as time has gone on. It’s different when it feels like there are parents who care for you.

After dinner, Lexa insists on handling the dishes, rinsing them all and putting them in the dishwasher, per Abby’s insistence to make the job go faster. “And there you go making me look bad, huh, Lex?” Clarke says, approaching Lexa from the side.

“Well, you see, it would not make you look bad if you just came over and helped me out instead of watching,” Lexa shoots back with a smirk.

“No need to be a smartass!” Clarke does help and her parents move into the living room to watch something together. When they’re done Clarke shouts, “We’re going up to my room!”

She hears her mom yell back, “Have fun, honey! Don’t watch any scary movies!”

“Are you afraid of horror movies?” Lexa asks walking up the stairs behind Clarke.

“When I was younger I watched Children of the Corn and I had nightmares for a while after that. Ended up running to sleep in my parents bed and I always needed a night light on. I’m not so bad with them anymore, just not a huge fan and Mom won’t let me forget it.”

“I see.” Lexa follows Clarke through the upstairs and eventually they come to a door at the end of the hallway. Clarke’s name is painted on a white door in a pretty cerulean color. Clarke opens the door and Lexa follows her, but stops just inside the door. “Woah,” she breathes out in awe. The walls are simply magnificent. Each wall is painted to represent a season, it seems. Clarke’s queen-sized bed is pushed up against the middle of the right wall, which is painted in a snowy wonderland, complete with snowflakes, snowmen, and gray skies. To the far wall is painted with a springtime scene, a wide open field covered in beautiful flowers of gold, red, purple, and pink. The wall behind Clarke and Lexa displays fall, a green field with a white picket fence and golden-orange trees. Lexa steps further into the room to take a look at the last wall: summer. It is a beach scene, sand at the floor of the wall, water creeping onto its surface, completed by a sunset. Lexa’s sure her jaw must have fallen through to the first floor at this point, “Did you paint this?” Clarke nods her head with a shy smile. “It—this is incredible…so beautiful.”

“I’m happy you think so. My parents weren’t too happy when they found out about it. Of course, then I had only just started on the spring wall and it wasn’t finished so it just looked like a mess, but once I finished the wall, I convinced them to let me just go ahead with the plan. I’ve been considering painting the ceiling, too. A bright blue sky with clouds fading into a starry night,” Clarke tells Lexa dreamily.

“That sounds fantastic, Clarke.” Lexa quietly looks around for a few moments longer and Clarke lets her. Of course, the walls aren’t entirely open; there are some pictures hanging on the walls, some sketches, and the furniture covers up bits and pieces of the wall but still, it’s incredible.

Lexa gets lost a little looking at the sunset, running her hands over the reflections on the water. Behind her, Clarke clears her throat before asking, “So what do you want to watch? I can grab some popcorn if you want some, too.”

Lexa hums, “What, uh, what type of movie are you in the mood for?”

“Would you laugh if I said rom-com?”

“You see, I might have were it not for the fact that rom-coms are my guilty pleasure.”

“Well then I’ve got juuust the thing!” Clarke sits on the bed and pulls open the drawer of the nightstand to rifle through its contents before removing a DVD case and presenting it to Lexa.

“You know, I have been meaning to see that. Anya said it was funny, and that Ashton Kutcher is always a plus. But, uh, would you mind if I change first?”

“Yeah my bathroom is just outside in the hall to the right, can’t miss it!”

Lexa carries her backpack with her into the bathroom and changes quickly into her pajamas, checking her hair in the mirror briefly before going back to Clarke’s room. When she walks in, she finds that Clarke has already settled under the blankets on the right side of the bed, the start screen for “What Happens In Vegas” waiting in the darkened room. “Hey did you want popcorn or anythi…” Clarke’s voice trails off as she takes in Lexa’s appearance. The last thing she expected was for Lexa to appear in her doorway wearing cute-ass sweatpants and a white t-shirt and she thinks it just isn’t fair that one person can look so good and all she can think is How the hell does she manage to look good in everything? And when she hears Lexa say “thank you?” in a quiet, confused voice she realizes she said that out loud. She couldn’t stop her cheeks from blazing pink even if it would save the world.

“Uh, s-sorry I didn’t mean to say that,” Clarke croaked, turning away in the hope that the darkness of the room might cover up her blush.

“Don’t worry, I do dress to impress after all,” Lexa assures, trying to diffuse some of the tension. “And I am good on popcorn for now—I may have eaten a touch too much at dinner,” Lexa grimaces.

Clarke laughs at Lexa’s face, “Yeah Mom’s pasta will do that. It’s almost too good.” Clarke realizes then that Lexa is still awkwardly standing with her bag in her hand in the middle of the room. “Are you going to sit down or..?”

“With you? On the bed?” Lexa bites her lip and Clarke thinks she looks maybe a little nervous.

“Well yeah I’m not gonna make you sit on the floor or something like that, Lex!” Clarke explains with a laugh. Lexa nods and drops her backpack, making her way to the bed to crawl in beside her. It’s a big bed, but it still feels like Lexa is just a little too close to Clarke in this moment; she can even feel Clarke’s warmth under the covers. Clarke presses play on the movie once Lexa stops rustling around under the covers.

Both girls are holding their breath for the first fifteen or so minutes, hyperaware of the other’s presence and hardly paying attention to the movie at all. Eventually, Clarke just rolls her eyes at how ridiculous they’re being and just scoots closer to Lexa until their thighs are touching and their shoulders are pushed together. She thinks she might have heard Lexa quickly suck in a hard breath; she knows her own heart is hammering away like there’re no tomorrow, so she supposes it must just be wishful thinking induced by the rush of adrenaline. What Clarke can’t see is Lexa’s left hand nervously tapping along her thigh, playing with the fabric of her sweatpants.

Halfway through the movie, the room is completely dark, save for the light flashing from the TV. Clarke casually glances over at Lexa, watching the light dancing across Lexa’s skin. Clarke whispers, “Lexa?”

“Hm?” Lexa hums, not looking over yet.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Is something wrong?” Lexa turns now, her brow furrowed, looking over Clarke’s face.

“Well n-no, I’m just curious is all…” Clarke trails off, biting her lip. Lexa’s gaze catches immediately onto that action, but quickly looks back at Clarke’s eyes.

“Alright, but only if I get to ask you questions too.”

“Deal. So I know you live with your sister, but why did you move here to begin with?”

“Oh, yeah, well Father thought it better that I move in with Anya instead of being alone at his house.”

“Alone?” Clarke asks, sounding concerned.

“It’s my turn, remember? How did you meet Bellamy and Octavia?”

“Nothing all that extraordinary. Their mom was a nurse who worked with neuro, so Mom and her were friends and you know how parents love to shove their kids into playgroups whenever possible,” Clarke smiles. “But, you were alone?”

“Yes. What does your dad do?”

“Hey that was such a cop out!”

“Answer my question and then I will expand, Clarke.”

Clarke huffs, “Dad’s a biomedical engineer. To be honest, I’m not really sure what he does exactly…”

“My father is an engineer too, an aerospace engineer though. He is a CEO, a very busy CEO, and he was not home very much, I saw him maybe twice a month, but he is constantly taking trips all around the world. Anya suggested I come live with her and Father agreed it was a good idea. And now, here we are.”

“Well what about your mom?”

Lexa tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “It’s my turn,” she says weakly, barely able to keep from making an unpleasant croaking sound. Lexa clears her throat and asks, “What is your dream for the future?”

“Mom wants me to be a doctor of course, and I want to go to art school. Mom thinks I need a high-powered, high-paying job in order to be happy because I was brought up in a wealthy home, but I think making art, sharing it with others, seeing others happy because of my work, would make me happy. And in the end, y’know, all I want is to just be happy with whatever I choose,” Clarke rambles and Lexa nods along.

Lexa is quiet for a minute, opens her mouth and closes it a couple of times before Clarke cuts in with a nearly inaudible whisper, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”

Lexa shakes her head at that. It isn’t necessarily that she doesn’t want to tell Clarke, it’s that she doesn’t want to sound weak, because she knows her voice might crack a little and her eyes might start tearing up. “My mom—she died when I was ten. My father was simply crushed, completely destroyed when she—he started taking more jobs out of the country, constantly leaving home and burying himself in work. Even when he did come home, I hardly saw him. He was always locked away in his office—drinking some brown liquid straight from a decanter. He is a good man, he just got more absent as the years went on…”

Clarke doesn’t say anything in response, feeling like their game has come to an abrupt end. Instead, she just snuggles up closer to Lexa, taking her hand in hers and pulling it into her lap and resting her head on Lexa’s shoulder. A few minutes later, Clarke whispers, “You didn’t have to tell me that, you know…”

“You deserve to know. I want you to know.” Clarke squeezes Lexa’s hand.

It’s quiet for the rest of the movie, and when it ends, Clarke gets up slowly, sleepily, and removes the DVD from the player, “Do you want me to put in something else?”

“Can we just listen to music or something? I am not sure I will be able to stay up through another movie, honestly.”

Clarke nods and smiles lightly before jerking her head towards the door, “I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick.” Lexa nods and waits for Clarke to leave before rummaging through her backpack sloppily, pulling out its contents in search of her toothbrush and toothpaste. Clarke walks back in a minute or two later and Lexa just waves her toothbrush in the air to signal that she is going to head to the bathroom before walking out.

Clarke hears the bathroom door click shut and she pulls her bra off, pulling it through one of the sleeves of her t-shirt and sighing as she tosses it into the hamper in the corner of the room. As she walks back to the bed, she notices Lexa’s things strewn across the floor surrounding her backpack and something catches her eye. Lying on the carpet is a small stuffed animal, maybe a half-foot in height. It’s a brown rabbit whose fur is pebbled, with some spots completely worn down right to the cloth. Clarke picks up the rabbit and carries it over to the bed to place next to her. She scrolls through the music on her phone briefly before settling on A Fine Frenzy's "Near To You" and putting it on shuffle. Lexa comes in a moment later, shutting off the hallway light on the way, coating the room in darkness aside from a dim, light blue night light which is plugged in by the door. It casts a cool glow on the rest of the room, the winter wall looking particularly blue compared to the rest.

Lexa tosses her toothbrush onto the pile her backpack has morphed into carelessly then pulls off her sweatpants because she can’t stand how caged she feels wearing pants to bed. And when she turns to the bed, she sees it. Her eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting and beside Clarke, Lexa sees one of her most prized possessions. She halts her steps and stares at it a moment. When she looks up, she can make out Clarke's easy smile. "Well are you gonna come back to bed, Lex?"

"Clarke."

"Yes?"

"Why did you take that?" Lexa asks, pointing to the rabbit.

Clarke shrugs, "It's cute and I wanted to ask you about it. Plus I thought you might want it--I mean, why would you bring it if you didn't want it right?" Lexa thinks Clarke actually sounds a little worried at the end there, sounding unsure if her reasoning was solid or the thought appreciated.

"I see," Lexa says as she gets her feet to work again and walks to the bed, picking up the rabbit and placing him on her lap when she sits. She quietly rubs his left ear between her thumb and index finger. "His name is Peter Rabbit."

“Why Peter Rabbit?”

“Well, you must know Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny?” Clarke shakes her head. “Oh. Well it was a staple of my childhood. I used to watch The Tale of Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny all the time, any time I could get my hands on it. Anya watched with me sometimes, just to humor me, because she was too old to truly enjoy it anymore. Anyways, Mom—she had brought Anya and I to a fair that was in town for a couple weeks, Anya won the rabbit and of course, me being six years old, I demanded that I have it. Instead, Mom won another for and I named it Peter Rabbit, of course. For whatever reason Anya named hers Benjamin Bunny.” Lexa realizes then that she was just rambling on about mundane details of her childhood and turns to face Clarke, who is looking at her with sparkles in her eyes.

“That’s cute, Lex,” Clarke says before she takes Lexa’s hand and scoots down on the bed, effectively pulling Lexa lower with her. They stare up at the ceiling for a few quiet moments. Lexa hadn’t noticed until then, but there are small dots faintly glowing on the ceiling, like stars. “Is hers as worn as yours is?”

“No, Benjamin Bunny mostly sat on a shelf.” Clarke hums in response. She’s playing with Lexa’s fingers with a gentle, ticklish touch that makes Lexa feels nervous and safe at the same time. Lexa turns her head to look at their hands, then to Clarke’s face. Clarke’s eyes are closed and her face is relaxed and Lexa has an indescribably urge to just touch her face. She refrains of course, because that would be weird and inappropriate. Lexa whispers, “Clarke?” Again, the pretty girl beside her merely hums, quieter this time, but flips on her side until she is facing Lexa, their hands loosely touching between them. “You—you’re special. I have never known anyone quite like you. I’ve never had a friend like you before.”

Lexa thinks to herself for a few minutes, trying to figure out the right way to say what she wants to say without coming off too strong. She gets lost in her thoughts and it isn’t until she finally figures out what she wants to say that she realizes Clarke hasn’t responded. In fact, her breathing has become a bit deeper and her hand has stopped fiddling with Lexa’s. Lexa pushes out a long breath, runs her left hand through her hair before turning on her side to face Clarke. When Lexa finally speaks, it’s barely a breath and one can’t even be sure she said anything at all, “I can’t stop wanting to be around you, Clarke, and I don’t know what that means.” She watches Clarke’s face to see if there’s any sign she had actually heard her. There is none. Lexa sighs, closes her eyes, and tries to sleep.