— • ❃ • —
Clarke is adding her last diamond earring to her right ear, viewing herself in the bathroom mirror, when Finn's arms slink around her waist. His chest presses to her back, and his face climbs into view beside hers in the mirror's reflection.
"You look beautiful," he says, and Clarke gives him a small, tight smile, yet it doesn't feel the same. It doesn't feel how it feels around her.
"Thank you."
His fingers glide against her arm, sending frozen streams of isolation to swim against her skin.
"Are you sure you're up for this art exhibit? I mean - you seem a little out of it," Finn questioned, rising the rage from within Clarke as she struggled out of his grasp.
"Do you think I would be going if I wasn't? Seriously Finn, I don't need a watch dog, and I most certainly don't need people telling me how I feel," Clarke snapped, unintentionally causing Finn to flinch as she stood opposing him.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asks after a moment, squeezing his palms together as he hovered awkwardly in front of her.
Clarke arched a brow in her reflection. "Leave?"
When he nods, she smiles softly, yet sadly. "I'm sorry, Finn," she says, "but I'm just tired. I'm tired of people looking at me like I'm fragile. Yes, sometimes I may feel that way, but people looking at me like that only confirms what I believe I am. If I feel weak, I need you to make me strong. If I feel sad, I need you to make me smile. If I feel tired, I need you to make me feel alive. I know how you feel, but you can't make me feel how sh- how I want to feel."
"What are you saying?"
The shrug of her shoulder causes Finn's chin to bounce a bit but he stays put, and Clarke sighs. "I just - I need you to take my mind off of everything. I need you to throw away the sympathy because it's only pushing me away. I just want you to be my boyfriend."
He is silent for a long time, both of them just standing in the bathroom, staring into the mirror but not really at one another, and then he whispers, "You're beautiful. You're strong. You're alive. I love you, Clarke."
Clarke blinks, focuses on his dark brown eyes in the reflection. "Thank you," she breathes, the words croaking in her throat unexpectedly and sounding anything but convincing. "Thank you."
"Come on, lets go to this exhibition," he smiles, reaching out to grab her clammy hand, turning his head as Raven peeps through the door.
Clarke licked her lips, does her best to muster up a smile, and gently grabs his hand. "You ready Rae?"
Raven narrowed her chocolate eyes and replied, "Just waiting for you." And as Clarke squeezed past her with Finn still glued to her side, Raven sensed the sudden shift in her attitude, knowing the hidden pain that lingers behind those closed eyelids.
— • ❃ • —
They walk briskly down the sidewalk toward the venue where the art show is taking place, hand in hand as winters touch spiralled against their skin. Costia had seen a brochure for the art show tacked to a notice board during the introduction talk, and had practically begged Lexa to take her. She loved art. Almost as much as the girl in her dreams. A firm 'I hate art' had almost slipped from Lexa's lips, having strong bullets of pain to strike through her smile, but Costia's eyes had been so wide and her smile so bright, and Lexa couldn't turn her down.
Lexa curses the thin material of her elegant dress, because her knees are shaking in the cold and her hands are quivering with the sharp nips of ice.
"Would you stop pulling your dress down? You look fine babe, honestly," Costia huffed.
"What? So you'd like for me to show my knickers off to the whole street? I thought you'd be much more possessive."
"That was one time, and it wasn't a big deal."
"You punched her in the throat," Lexa argued, "because she touched my ass, Cos." Lexa huffs and shakes her head, briefly smirking at the thought of her defensive girlfriend.
"You're my girlfriend," Costia says, grinning at Lexa. "I don't want to share you with anyone else."
"I know," Lexa gives a small, thin smile and kisses Costia's cheek. "And you don't have to." But as Lexa recited these words, she could only resurface the colour blue. "But would you blame them? I mean, I am pretty irresistible after all."
Costia laughs out loud, pulling Lexa's arms around her shoulders. "I should have left you behind."
"I will go home," Lexa jokingly warns. "It's not like I wanted to come anyways."
"No you won't, "Costia says, "You wouldn't leave me."
"I guess you're right."
"When am I ever wrong?" Costia says, chuckling as she pokes Lexa's cheeks.
"We're like an old, married couple. Our subconscious' probably hate us."
"That's not true. We bring them peace."
Lexa's brow furrows for a moment, a flash of familiarity and pain sparking in her chest. It strikes her so hard and so fast that she sucks in a sharp, icy breath, and for just a moment she thinks about saying, "She brings me peace".
Peace. The words coat her tongue with an automatic response. She brings her peace whenever she sleeps. She wants her. She needs her. She almost loved her. She could have loved her. Costia only pulls her back to the surface, but Clarke isn't real. And Costia isn't Clarke.
— • ❃ • —
As Lexa rides elegantly next to Clarke, she feels alive. She feels so happy and relieved that Clarke trusts her. That the girl she loves loved her back. And she could see the sad frown that slept against her face, not always there, but expected to return. She could see her sadness, her guilt, and she had the sudden urge to waken her from this downward path.
"You left a hero to your people, and you return one."
"You bring them justice."
"You bring them justice."
"We bring them peace."
All they wanted was peace. Peace from humanity, from expectations and the world that surrounded us. Peace with their thoughts. Their feelings. But what she knew, was that she brought her peace.
— • ❃ • —
When Costia suddenly stumbles to a stop, Lexa jolts and blinks away the memories making a foggy cloud of her mind. Costia has turned to smile at her, pointing toward the door of a beautifully lit building with large glass windows that peer into a massive space adorned in paintings and drawings and packed with people. "This is it!"
Lexa simply lets Costia pull her through the door and into the gifted warmth. An older gentleman greets them at the door and offers to take their bags and coats while they browse. Lexa receives their pass ticket and is dragged behind an energetic Costia, whom is already pulling them into the exhibit.
Costia and Lexa move towards their right, taking in the first painting that they see ahead of them - a beautiful, swirled ocean of blue which brings brightness to even the dimmest of moods. It's simple, but unique, and elegant. Costia is already moving in towards the next one before Lexa has a chance to think twice about it.
The tone of the painting is muted. Each stroke had a smudging quality that rendered the image watery, like a reflection in a rippled puddle. The scene is a street, London I'll bet, the umbrella bearing pedestrians battle against rain and the red double-deckers and black cabs rumble by. Perhaps to this artist that's what we are, small drops in a sky full of rain, each one looking out and saying to ourselves.
"I love this one. It's amazing," Costia breathes, gaping in awe as Lexa smiled, taking a small sip of her champagne.
Lexa smirked and dryly says, "Yes, I noticed that after the third drawing you pulled me away from when I wasn't finished looking."
"I like the scenes," Costia says, biting her lip around a smile, ignoring whatever Lexa had to say. "The paintings feel more alive somehow, like the pictures are moving. At least these feel more alive than you at the minute."
"You should be grateful that I'm dragging my sorry ass out here in the freezing cold."
"Not good enough," she joked.
Lexa rolls her eyes and reaches for Costia's hand before gently pulling her toward the next piece.
— • ❃ • —
Stepping into the space beside Clarke, Raven heaves a short breath and prepares herself for the sight of her painting, finally getting a strong concept to what the girl looks like.
"You couldn't look more eager if you tried," Clarke laughs, "You don't need to make such a big deal out of this, it's nothing special."
"But she is," Raven says, turning to give Clarke a tight smile, "So please, pull the damned sheet off and let me see her. People are waiting. I'm waiting."
Clarke chuckled and shook her head. "Nobody is interested in it."
With a dramatic sigh, Raven says, "That's because they can't see it, dumbass. For all you know, I may fall for her too."
They bump shoulders as they both crack up, and Clarke says, "You don't know her. It would be weird."
When their laughter dies down to silence again, Clarke grasps the corner of the sheet that drapes over the painting, knowing that this is removing the wall to her dreams. "Finn isn't here, right? I mean, he said he went to meet his friends for drinks instead, but he can't possibly come back to see this, right?", Clarke shrugged, not quite knowing how to feel on her boyfriends absence.
Raven doesn't look at her, but Clarke sees the gentle nod out of the corner of her eye just before she hears her mutter, "I'm here."
Clarke inhaled a deep breath and removed the sheet in one swift move. As she sees her face, each memory hits just as hard as the last, and as she looks over to see her friends expression, she is only greeted with a widened smile.
"She's so beautiful, Clarke. This, is beautiful," she gestures, tracing the long, dark hair that rests against her neck. She draws over the green eyes with her finger, following the jewelled tear that slips down her soft cheek, suddenly shifting her gaze towards a small and familiar symbol. "Infinity."
"What?" Clarke says, but her own gaze locks onto the symbol, and her heart thumps roughly in her chest. "Oh - that's just - it's hard to explain." The thought of selling the piece is painful, mournful even, but Clarke knows she shouldn't keep it. It needs to go.
She needs to let it go. To let her go.
"I'm going to the toilet, stay here and guard her - it," she says, grabbing a fresh glass of champagne from a passing server.
Raven nodded.
— • ❃ • —
Costia's sharp gasp startled Lexa, pulling her attention from the painted walls. Her girlfriends eyes were widened with shock - even almost horror as she looked towards a particular piece.
Lexa has to take a few steps back to look at the work in its entirety before her heart slams against her ribs and her throat grows so tight that she feels like she can't breathe. How is this possible? This can't be real.
"You didn't tell me you had someone paint you," Costia stated, her tone bitter. "It's beautiful though."
Every shallow, but sharp gasp through Lexa's nose is a desperate effort to get air into her lungs, but it just won't go down. It won't reach, and Lexa quickly begins to feel lightheaded and dizzy.
"Five-thousand dollars," she hears Costia sigh. "That's so expensive," she laughs, and it sounds muffled in Lexa's head. "Wait- you aren't planning on letting some random stranger buy this are you?"
Lexa's voice comes out strained, and she is surprised but relieved that it comes out at all. "Yes. I- I forgot to tell you about it. We can't afford this, Cos."
Just as Costia was about to interrupt, a sudden shriek erupted from beside the painting.
"You're - you're real? Okay. Raven you're not imagining this, she's here, in front of you - she's - I - you're - what the fuck!?", she gasped, looking from the painting to Lexa, the painting to Lexa, the painting to Lexa.
Lexa was silent. Confused. Lost. She didn't understand what was going on. She felt Costia's grip loosen on her arm as she suddenly moved in front of her, narrowing her eyes with a request of an explanation. She felt her face tighten, where the others would whiten. A sudden exposure of foreign dust to splutter into the air, preventing Lexa's already staggered breath from working.
Silence.
"I don't know who you are, but you've made a beautiful job of painting her," Costia broke the silence, switching her gaze from Raven to Lexa. " I see it's named 'Dreaming of -"
"Infinity," says a voice from behind them, and Lexa's blood goes cold. Her stomach drops like it is trying to push down into her legs, and her heart jumps up into her throat like it is trying to escape through her lips, and she feels like she is going to splinter apart with the two painful sensations.
That voice.
She knew that voice. She knew it.
She's spent years with that same, melodic voice that laughed in her ears, recited against her skin. That same voice that allowed her to sleep so easily, yet awaken with such sorrow and despair. She knew one thing.
That voice is her everything.
Clarke smiled softly when one of the women admiring her painting turns at her words. Her hair is long, falling over one shoulder in a straight, shiny wave—dark and beautiful like her skin and eyes, and her smile is radiant enough to cause Clarke's to widen.
"Oh, and who are you?," the woman asks.
Smirking, Clarke says, "Not like it's relevant or anything, but I'm the artist. I take it you like this piece?"
"Apologies," the woman grimaced, taking a confused look towards Raven, who was still gaping from the other woman to the painting, almost like she was convincing herself. "That would be an understatement. I love it. It makes her look just as beautiful as she always has been."
"What?" Clarke's tone came out harsher than intended, startling the woman as she took a step closer to the stilled stranger beside her. Nobody else knows her. She was Clarke's dream. Clarke's soulmate.
"Well, my girlfriend is obviously very beautiful, can I not pay her a compliment?", and Clarke's eyes flicker to the stiff figure beside her.
Not in relation to her. Not in relation to this painting.
"Of course, apologies."
"So, why did you decide to paint her?"
Clarke pursed her tightened lips, releasing a staggered breath as she prepares to move on. "She has one of the most captivating, most beautiful faces I've ever seen. It's personal, really, but she isn't real. I made her up in my head. I just - she's special," Clarke smiled, but the woman was now looking twice as confused as she was before.
"Clarke, I need a drink. I'm seeing things I shouldn't be seeing and it could put you in some deep shit. You'll have to babysit her yourself," Raven shrugged, walking away as she rubbed her temples, mumbling to herself whilst shaking her head.
The other woman's back is still facing her, and she hasn't moved since Clarke approached, hasn't murmured a word. Something catches her eyes, holds onto her breath. Against her neck is the same symbol. The same meaning. The exact same. She seems so familiar. Her long dark hair swifts gently against her back, the visible, sharpened jawline that glistens against the light. She looks like her.
"Are you okay, babe? Don't be freaked out, lots of people love your face. Including me," the woman nudged her, yet she still wouldn't budge. Something seems different. Raven wandering off. This girl. This strange, yet familiar girl. Clarke was confused.
Just as she is about to excuse herself to give them time to discuss, she hears a hard, staggered breath shake out of the woman, and then she slowly turns around.
The sound of shattering glass breaks through the soft buzz of the gallery as Clarke's glass slips from her hand and hits the floor. She feels her eyes brim with tears, which were gazing directly into the opposing eyes, also glossy and red and puffy against the light. Clarke felt herself edging closer towards the girl. Slowly, she reached her hand out in a quivering motion, gliding her fingers gently across her cheek in the same way she always remembered, and then cried. She feels the same. She looks the same. She smiles the same. She is the same. Clarke didn't know how to react. She didn't know what to do. She must be dreaming. She must be. And as she began to back away, her pace quickened, dashing out of the glass doors with a face streaming with tears.
Never once has she felt a dream this strong before. It felt real. It could have been real. But it wasn't. She isn't here. She isn't real. Yet Clarke knew.
She is here. She is real.
And Clarke was no longer,
Dreaming Of Infinity
— • ❃ • —
Authors Note:
Opinions on this chapter?
Opinions on Lexa/Clarke?
Opinions on Finn/Costia?
Opinions on Raven?