archenemy | clexa

twenty three

Sunday is strange.

Lexa wakes up late, which usually doesn't happen, and is immediately transported back to the events of last night. They feel like a feverdream now, an unrealistic bubble of gold and candlelight and a softness like Lexa had never felt before. She doesn't ever want to feel it again, she decides. It made her feel even weaker, it made her feel incompetent.

The worst is, she can't fix it anymore. Now, Clarke knows how faulty Lexa truly is. Clarke already sees humans below her army of Gods, what is she to think of Lexa knowing that she can't even regulate her emotions?

Lexa hates being vulnerable in general. The only people she's been remotely friendly with are Anya, Lin, Ax and perhaps Luna back when they shared a pair of bunk beds training to be Heda. The only person she's shown the smallest bits of weakness to is Costia.

And now, the only person who has seen her ribcage torn open to let all the ugly things flow out, who has seen one of the weak, pitch-black holes in her and failures in her system, is Lexa's archenemy. Lexa has always been careful with Costia. Costia was putting up with Lexa already, after all. Costia had taken on the one woman no one else wanted, and so Lexa wasn't able to allow any mistakes.

All the problems that came with being with Lexa, Costia had put up with them and she hadn't been any less amazing. The rare times Lexa had woken the both of them from a nightmare, Costia hadn't said a thing. Sometimes she would go back to sleep, other times she'd give Lexa a sympathetic smile- never any yelling, never any punishments, never any belitteling. It was simply the part of Lexa that wasn't supposed to show up and when it accidentally did, Costia never held a grudge against Lexa for it for long.

Lexa was careful about those parts of hers that weren't to show up. With everyone, there are only the selected parts of Heda. With Costia, there were some more, but obviously not the ugly things.

Not the things Clarke involuntarily witnessed last night. Not the things that Lexa keeps well-hidden, the things she tries to cut out so much.

Even worse, though? A crack had come Lexa's heart last night, letting out a stream of darkness, and instead of forcefully closing it, instead of ignoring Lexa and leave her to tend to it, instead of hating her for it, Clarke pushed her soft hands right into the wound and tore it open beyond repair.

Beyond repair. That's what everything feels like now.

It's okay, is now burned into her memory above all the hateful things she heard for nightmares before. Beyond repair.

Tenderness has seeped into that crack in Lexa's heart and built a tiny home inside. Beyond repair.

Thoughts have been centering around that irritating moment, around Clarke, who Lexa can't face properly now. Beyond repair.

Clarke is back to her usual self again. Her face is lit up properly now, her eyes concerned with the book in her hands and a bright blue, her body is curled up on the bed, bad leg stretched out. Lexa doesn't know if her voice still sounds like honey. She doesn't speak a word the entire morning, but neither does Lexa.

Instead, Lexa goes out to train, then has lunch alone and drinks one too many drinks with the food. How the fuck does she treat someone she despises but that holds something so heavy against her? Scratch that, how does she treat someone she despises but that comforted her through a terrible panic? That kind of did her a favor, although Lexa doesn't feel good at all. That occupies her mind in a weird way now. That just plainly sucks and might plan to overthrow Lexa and her people and kill everybody anyway.

Yeah, Titus didn't teach her that.

Frustrated, Lexa returns to her tent. Clarke is out, apparently, and Lexa takes the opportunity of silence to meditate. She hasn't exactly had a peaceful mind lately and if she needs one thing right now, it's that.

Lexa has no idea just how useful that's going to prove.

-

That night, Clarke comes home late but on time. She doesn't say hello, but that's no reason to worry because she never does. Still, although they usually don't talk except for loathing comments and banter, there's a strange kind of silence over everything now. It's suppressive, full of unspoken words.

Maybe it's not, and Lexa just makes it to be so in her head. Either way, she knows she's not going to get out of this one clean.

The idea that had come up during her meditation that Clarke might have done everything to manipulate Lexa was discarded again soon afterwards. It's in her head again now, but she can't make sense of it.

If Clarke had put pressure on her that she'd tell others, sure. If Clarke had made fun of her, hated on her or made her further uncomfortable, sure.

But somehow, Lexa can't remember Clarke's eyes and think about malice. She's tried, believe her. Lexa wanted so badly to prove to herself that Clarke meant everything in a horrible way, but she's back at square one knowing Clarke didn't and not being able to make any sense of it.

Why does it bother her so much, too? Why does she think about it so much? Is it the fact that Clarke did the impossible, said what Lexa had never heard before? Or is it the fact that a Goddess is able to do such a deeply human thing as to comfort, to hold and to say 'it's okay' over and over again? What else can she do, then? Or is it Clarke's eyes and her hands in Lexa's, the impossible softness they hold?

Her hands. Lexa can't stop thinking about that moment and it's making her go crazy. It's inevitable, she can't rip out the roots of these thoughts that are planted so deeply in her mind, but she keeps trying and is getting frustrated with the failure.

Silken-soft skin. Calloused at the fingertips from war. Warmth. So much warmth. Comfort flooding from within Clarke's red veins into Lexa's fate-deciding black ones.

And on the other hand, there's the hate. The anger. So much bigger, both of them. It's like an ugly building with one single pretty window that Lexa unexpectedly looked into. This woman still wants bad. She's still an enemy to Lexa's people. She's still Lexa's very personal enemy.

Lexa just wants Clarke to die. Or to know she's an unintelligent bug. She wants to insult Clarke and tease her in a way that's only fun to Lexa. She still hates Clarke, but how does she make that clear while also saying 'thank you'? While forgetting that a truly godly Clarke exists, soft and golden and warm instead of simply annoying and sly?

"Clarke," she says, not friendly but not unfriendly either.

The woman turns around and raises her brow in a silent 'what?'.

Lexa takes a subtle but deep breath. If she says thank you now, she'll acknowledge last night and can't pretend it didn't happen. If she doesn't, she'll probably look pathetic. "Thanks for last night," she manages. "But you shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?"

Oh, so Clarke is back to being annoying. She's making Lexa say everything out loud. "Comfort me. It shouldn't have happened. I didn't need it."

That's a lie. Fuck. Lexa is taking this into the wrong direction. Clarke did something big that might not have been easy for herself either, this hate isn't one-sided after all, and Lexa is diminishing it.

Clarke just raises her other brow lazily and says, "Tell me directly next time instead of unnecessarily keeping me up then, won't you?"

Something in her eyes shifts while talking, though. Lexa knows in this exact moment that last night was a chance for Lexa and Lexa just missed to take it. Last night was a reaction to the bare minimum Lexa had done when Clarke had come back with her leg injury, a step into the unknown in the brave trust that Lexa would meet her there. Instead, Lexa watched Clarke fall and didn't bother to catch her because of her pride.

She doesn't reply to Clarke. She's sick of this mess anyway. Clarke is being shitty, Clarke is being vulnerable, Clarke is being annoying, Clarke is being unrealistically kind. Clarke is giving her a chance, Clarke is expecting too much, Clarke is making Lexa feel bad about herself in a way that might as well have been planned. Clarke seems not to care at all, Clarke seems mildly hurt, Clarke makes Lexa feel like she messed up, which she probably did.

Fuck that. She isn't here to make a stupid friend out of her archenemy. She isn't here to be judged on her behaviour. She doesn't give a fuck, there are other worries.

____________________________