Lightning Only Strikes Once - Clexa

Chapter 30: In the Closet

Clarke frowns. "So what do you suggest?"

"While our current secrecy works, I think in the end we will have to be open about what we are," Lexa says. Then she flushes slightly. "That is, if you wish for us to continue. I know that once your people have arrived -"

"Lexa. I'm with you. Here. Got it?" Clarke says fiercely. She wraps her arms around Lexa, holding her tightly, and kisses the top of her head again, then leaves her cheek pressed against Lexa's hair.

"Oh," Lexa smiles slightly. "Well, then, we will be open about the fact that you are with me. You will be under threat whatever happens, just from the rumours and the amount of time we spend alone together, so all that admitting it would do is to give you more status with my people. It would help prevent the belief that you are trying to influence me towards our people." Lexa hesitates, then adds, "Of course, you could not be leader or ambassador for your people if we did this. At present you can lead your people without issue, but once things settle down more..."

"Why not?" Clarke asks.

"I am Heda," Lexa states. "I must not express favouritism towards any clan. They have realised by now that I am not influenced by the clan I grew up in, but if I am to have you as a constant in my life they cannot believe you are influencing me towards your people. If you become my advisor, they will see you helping to mediate between the other clans, and know you are objective there in a way even I cannot be. You will have more power as my official advisor and partner – an extension of my power – than you would as an ambassador, as well. You would be in charge of Polis when I am away, and deal with negotiations or lead gonakrus when I am unable to. But if you are ambassador or leader for your people, you will deal directly with me on matters specifically about the Skaikru only, and they will know that our relationship must influence that."

Clarke blinks. "But you made me an ambassador last time," she says reasonably. She pulls slightly back from Lexa to kiss her forehead again. It's very distracting.

"That was when I thought there was no chance you would ever return my regard," Lexa says softly. "I believed we would never have the kind of relationship that could cause the others to question my impartiality. You despised me. It wasn't until you drew me while I slept -"

"Lexa. No," Clarke says. She pulls Lexa close again, and kisses her. "No. I never despised you. Not for one second, okay? I just – I was angry at everyone, and you were a really convenient target. And I hated myself because even after everything happened, even after deciding it was your fault, I still felt drawn to you, and I took that self-hatred and aimed it at you. I didn't hate you. I loved you. It just took me some time to realise it."

There's a long pause. "You... loved me?" Lexa says carefully. She is awed by it, by the feeling in Clarke's voice, by the arms wrapped around her – holding her, protecting her, loving her.

Before Clarke, no one had held Lexa in a very long time.

"No," Clarke says fiercely. "I love you. Not just past tense, present. And future. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'm pretty sure I'll always love you." She kisses Lexa with every ounce of emotion in her.

"I feel as you do," Lexa manages to gasp out between kisses, and then she doesn't manage to say anything else at all.

Clarke licks, kisses and nibbles her way down Lexa's neck, moves to her collarbone, then moves further. It seems like hours of exploration but may be much less as Lexa bucks against her and moans incoherently – Clarke seems determined to kiss every inch of Lexa's body, know every curve and scar and freckle that she possesses. Each touch feels like it leaves a burning point of light there.

Clarke presses her fingers inside Lexa and swallows her next moan with another kiss, then slides down to chase her fingers with her lips. It's slow and purposeful and merciless, laving and sucking and kissing as her fingers push into her, making her crazy from the inside out. Even when Lexa tries to move against her, tries to hurry her, Clarke keeps the pace slow and perfect. Perfectly infuriating. She comes in a wave, steady and inexorable, but by the end it feels more like a tsunami and she gasps out her love into the beautiful, candlelit room where she once died.