STAY [CLEXA]

Chapter 3

The dress that had been made for her swayed as it trailed behind her along the floor as Clarke neared closer to the very heart of Polis. Her shallow steps echoed through the halls as she allowed her legs to guide her to the throne room. Her blonde locks hung effortlessly down her back, falling in waves as her arms swung by her sides almost by impulse.

Clarke had been building herself up for this moment all night. And yet, perhaps she had been preparing for it a lot longer than she had realised. She had been so angry at Lexa for what she had done to her people at Mount Weather, but clearly she wasn't, because she realised now that she was merely upset at herself and her inability to save her people. She was upset that she needed Lexa's help, and she refused to accept that she needed the other girl, but she could accept it now. When Lexa had left, when Clarke had eventually saved her people on her own anyway, the thought that she had killed over a thousand people was too much to handle, and so she projected her own insecurity on Lexa.

The room revealed itself to be empty with the exception of one lonesome soul. Lexa wore her hair in her usual style, tied up yet somehow effortless as it fluttered gently in the breeze. Clarke's small and subtle steps did nothing to evade the Commander's trained ears and her eyes flicked up gently to land on her.

Clarke thought she spied a short tug of her lips as she closed the distance between them, but Lexa's empty face betrayed no emotion, and she left it down to her wandering imagination. There was a daunting sharp silence that cut the air between them as they stood facing each other in the middle of the room, neither making the first move to demolish it.

"I wanted to thank you," Clarke breathed out gently after a short moment, her eyes dancing as she continued to take in the sight before her. "I realised I hadn't done that yet."

Lexa really looked at her then; she allowed her eyes to become one with Clarke's own crystal blue. The palms of her hands ran over the top of one of the thrones as she pulled herself up from whatever she was doing before Clarke had entered the room. "What do you have to thank me for?" She asked the other girl quietly as she took a hesitant step towards her.

Clarke brushed a lose strand of hair behind her ear as it fell gently against her cheek. "For saving my life," she replied. "I know that while all of your intentions may not have been in my favour, of the favour of my people for that matter, but I understand that you did it partly because you wanted to keep me safe."

Clarke couldn't deny any longer that she cared for the girl who was sat before her. It was fruitful to pretend that she didn't, that she was indifferent.

She would know soon enough.

Lexa watched Clarke for a long moment with her lips gently parted, air breathed through the crack ever so gently as her hair continued to sway along with the breeze that drifted through the open balcony. If Clarke strained her ears enough she believed that she would be able to hear the roaring hum of echoed voices as they drifted up into the atmosphere and towards the girls. Lexa was right; her time at Polis has started to alter her opinion of the grounders, and perhaps even their Commander.