Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The city is literally burning in the rays of the scorching summer sun. Black asphalt is melting under the feet, mirages are bending the air in the distance. Crowds of people hurry back and forth, wearing their expensive business suits and cursing the day they decided to apply for a job with strict dress code.

Lexa is one of them. High black heels are tapping rhythmically on the pavement, upper buttons of her white blouse are undone, and brown hair is tied in a tight high tail. Light green eyes shining with the color of freshly mowed grass are glancing from one street to another in search of a long-awaited cool shadow.

She left the noisy, stifling office about fifteen minutes ago and stepped into the same noisy and stifling air outside, hoping to somehow fresh herself and enjoy the deserved lunch break. No matter where Lexa is looking, every shadowed corner is filled with typical office workers holding fast food in their hands and amused students discussing something they don’t really care about.

Despite all the fuss, the girl loves this city. She feels in her element surrounded by this never ending whirlpool. Confident and always proudly raising her head, she has been quickly climbing the career ladder. A couple of weeks ago, she was appointed CEO of a newly opened affiliate of a large financial company. And she was absolutely sure she was able to achieve more and climb even further.

Lexa is a loner, relying only on her own strength and sharp mind she got from her parents. She took over their appearance, and admiring glances from all directions indicate that she is lucky in this context, too.

Her colleagues think she is perfect except for the piercing coldness of her eyes and absolute indifference to other people’s life and fate. Lexa could calmly sacrifice anyone in the name of the doe-eats-dog world to achieve her desired goal. No, she has never set anyone up, but she wouldn’t lift a finger to help her colleagues in trouble either. She was only silently watching them sinking, clearing her the way with their foolishness.

The truth is, Lexa has not always been like that. She used to be the kindest and most responsive person. Long ago.

But by the age of 26 the girl has managed to become the “Coldest Business Woman” of the company.

And at the moment she was only interested in work. Well, maybe also in some cool place where she could have a quiet lunch.

Lexa is walking quickly along the hot streets until her legs bring her to some discreet, narrow alley. The heels are now clicking on old paving stones, which are rare for such a big city full of glass skyscrapers and omnipresent cars. Her eyes fall on huge pots with flowers of all colors and small trees that somehow breathe life into the dead concrete jungles.

A small cafe with bright canopy in red and white stripes appears around the corner. Cheerful, but quiet Italian songs are enlightening the mood of a few passers-by. There are six small tables outside with cozy-looking wicker chairs and small flower vases. There are only few visitors sitting, probably due to the hidden location of the cafe. And even they are most likely to be regulars here, for it is very difficult to stumble upon such a place by chance.

The tables are standing under the canopy on either side of the open front door. Delicious smell of food is coming out from it, which makes Lexa's stomach purr in anticipation.

“Just what I need.”

There’s a man in his thirties on the right side from the door, literally lying in his chair. He has been hungrily staring at Lexa as soon as she appeared from around the corner. Next to him, some disgustingly sweet couple is feeding each other with ice cream. And to the left of the door, there’s a young blonde girl sitting in sunglasses, bending over a lying on the ground golden retriever, and scratching him behind the ear.

Lexa confidently heads to the leftmost table. She wants to stay as far from other visitors as possible.

Five minutes later, she has already ordered a carbonara paste and is now running through the lines of newspaper full of financial articles.

Lexa can’t help feeling someone’s curious look at her, but she doesn’t turn around, not wanting to start a conversation with anyone and silently enjoying her break. As time goes by, the strange feeling is not leaving her, so the girl looks up irritated and turns her head to the side.

The blonde sitting at the table next to the door has turned her whole body towards Lexa and is now staring at her through the black sunglasses with a blissful smile on her lips.
She is drinking some transparent liquid with ice and mint leaves and is still scratching her dog, which is already standing and resting its head on her lap. At the same time, she’s ogling Lexa, as if trying to hit on her with her whole posture.

“There you go again,” the girl thinks, hiding herself behind the newspaper

Lexa can’t stand the attention following her everywhere, especially the one which goes beyond purely business communication. Be it a man or a woman, she always rudely gives them their marching orders, reinforcing harsh words with a piercing glance.

The waiter pulls her out of her thoughts, bringing a fragrant dish, from just the sight of which everyone would choke on his saliva. And Lexa is no exception when she puts the first piece in her mouth and moans automatically with surprise and pure bliss. Subtle hints of basil, salty bacon fried to a crisp, and molten parmesan make her completely forget about the world around, including the blonde girl who has raised her eyebrow in response to Lexa’s involuntary sound of pleasure.

The numbness, however, doesn’t last long, as there’s nothing left on the plate soon. Lexa leans back, completely convinced that she’s come here for a reason and would spend her lunch break here not once again.

The girl takes a look around the street when she accidentally glances at the blonde once more. She still hasn’t dragged her gaze away, causing Lexa to frown in indignation. She turns away, trying to make it clear that she isn’t interested in any kind of interaction.

Eyes turn to small houses on the other side of the street, to the store fronts showing all kinds of small goods in front of bored passers-by.

The waiter pulls her out of her thoughts again. He puts in front of her a drink similar to the one the staring blonde has in her hand.

“I haven’t ordered ...” she resents.

“The drink was paid by the table three. Enjoy,” the waiter said smiling and immediately retired.

Lexa was looking at the drink with wide eyes for several seconds, then turned her head and glanced at the girl drinking the same cocktail.

“Ok, that’s enough.”

She quickly gets up from her chair, pulling her most formidable expression on the face, closes the distance to the annoying person in three seconds and sits down across from her, loudly moving the chair. The blonde frowns a little being surprised by such decisive actions, and her dog looks menacingly at the troublemaker.

Lexa silently takes a note out of her purse and puts it on the table. Then she looks into the eyes hidden behind the sunglasses and speaks emotionlessly.

“Thank you for the drink, but it’s not in my style to accept handouts from strangers,” the blonde has visibly tensed even more, raising her eyebrows, “so please take the money,” Lexa was silent for a second before she coldly continued. “One more thing. Stop staring, it's impolite, at least.”

The still silent girl suddenly grins cheerfully at the last words and flirtatiously utters.

“What shall I do if I cannot take my eyes off you?”

Lexa rolles her eyes in exasperation.

“Then you should keep your dog closer, because when I'm really angry, who knows what can happen.”

“Uff ... Buddy, this cute girl seems to be threatening us,” the blonde says cheerfully, stroking the retriever on its neck without looking down.

“If this is the only thing that can make you leave me alone, then yes,” Lexa superciliously raises her chin.

“Well, I will. But I want something in return…”

“I’m all ears.”

“Tell me your name,” the blonde shrugges.

Lexa stares at her.

“You won’t back off, right?” she takes a deep breath. “Lexa, my name is Lexa.”

“Lexa ...” the blonde says, smiling like a cheshire cat. “Nice to meet you, I'm Clarke,” she holds out her hand across the table.

It is unclear what made Lexa shake it, but when her fingers touch the pale skin, she freezes, as if hypnotized, and looks down at the touching palms.

“Clarke.”

“Um ... Yeah, me too...” Lexa hesitates, shuddering slightly, and pulls her hand. “But I should better return to my table.”

Clarke nods briefly.

“I promise not to stare anymore,” she smiles and leans back in her chair.

Lexa nods silently and returns to her seat. She turns her head back to the table where Clarke is sitting. The girl is not looking at her anymore, she has turned her head towards the street and is looking in front of herself, playing with her dog’s collar.

Now Lexa is the one who’s throwing curious glances at the visitor not far from her. She blushes from her own stupid behavior.

Five minutes later the waiter approaches the blonde. She pays the bill, whispering something into his ear. The waiter nods and leaves.

Lexa can’t tear her eyes away from the one who had recently been freaking her out with her gaze.

Clarke shifts slightly, takes something from the chair next to her and for a moment turns her head towards Lexa, who instantly returns her look back to the newspaper in her hands. She is thoughtlessly running through small black letters, until interrupted by a slightly husky voice of the blonde.

“Come on, Buddy, we gotta go.”

Then there is a slight tapping sounding, and Lexa's curiosity wins. She turns her head towards the girl that so suddenly managed to interest her.
And freezes.
The blonde is slowly moving away from the cafe, holding a leash in one hand and... a white cane in the other, clattering with it on the paving stones in front of her.

“Shit...” Lexa hasn’t noticed she said that out loud, making the rest of the cafe visitors turn their heads in her direction.

“Is everything alright?” asks the waiter in surprise, approaching her, to what the girl nods briefly. “The young lady who was sitting at that table asked me to write and give you a note.”

He hands Lexa a piece of paper and turns to an elderly couple sitting at the nearest table.

Lexa stares at the note in her hand in a daze, afraid to read the contents. She slowly turns it around.

- Sometimes we are not what we seem, Lexa ... -

She feels unbearable pang of guilt. Guilt and remorse that she hasn’t felt for a long time.

“Can I buy you another drink?” Lexa jumps on her chair from unexpected sound of male voice next to her.

The man who was lying in his chair to the right of the door when she arrived is practically eating her with his gaze. The one who was sitting at the THIRD table from the right.

“Go fuck yourself,” she throws, hurriedly leaves a couple of notes on the table, and rushes after the blind girl who has just disappeared around the corner.

Chapter Text

Lexa is breathing heavily when she reaches the corner, where the blonde girl has recently disappeared. She stops in her tracks, looking around, but notices noone on the empty narrow street except a skinny black cat lying near a dumpster.

“Great, Lexa, you’ve just confirmed your selfish bitch title,” she mutters under her breath.

“Probably... But sometimes we are not what we seem, right?” a familiar husky voice comes from somewhere behind her.

She stays dumbfounded for several seconds, and then turns sharply and looks up towards the sound. The blonde in sunglasses stands on a small iron ledge at the second floor of the building. A narrow, also iron staircase stretches down from it to the ground. She keeps her head straight, looking in front of her, and smiles broadly, playing with the keys in her hands. Her dog is staring down at the amazed girl and playfully wagging its tail.

“Buddy, is it me, or is this cute girl staring at us? I’m not the one to teach you manners, but I think it’s impolite, at least,” a short laugh escapes her lips.

“Look, I ...” Lexa tries.

“‘Look’? Are you sure? Cause that’s definitely not my forte,” she giggles again.

“That’s not what I meant, I...” Lexa takes a step forward, without watching where she’s going.

She steps with her heel on the edge of a manhole cover and crashes to the side, simultaneously feeling a sharp pain in her right ankle. It starts sparkling in her eyes.

“Ahhhh...” an involuntary cry escapes her throat, and Lexa immediately closes her mouth with one hand not to moan from pain.

“If you’re trying to apologize, I can assure you that words would fit much better than screaming,” the blonde says uncertainly.

Lexa grits her teeth, looking up at now frowning blind girl and her dog rushing around her legs.

“Lexa... Are you alright?” she slowly leans forward and reaches for the railing with one hand.

“Not really, I guess...” Lexa touches the aching ankle with her fingers and hisses from pain.

Meanwhile, the blind girl is already striding down the stairs, clutching firmly at the railing with one hand and clattering over the steps with her white stick. She steps on the ground and turns her body to the side where Lexa is sitting and watching every step of the mysterious blonde like a bewitched.

“Could you make a sound so that I don't poke you in the eye with my stick?”

“Oh ... Yes ... I'm here,” she answers in a trembling voice, trying to get out of her stupor.

“An ‘oh’ would be enough,” Clarke smiles broadly again. “And from what I can hear, you are sitting on cold asphalt and waiting for the help of a blind girl. Or am I missing something?”

Lexa opens her mouth in amazement, unable to make a sound.

“Buddy, is she staring again?” the girl whispers playfully, to which the dog barks loudly. “I knew it.”

“I'm sorry,” Lexa mumbles, dropping her eyes, and then begins to speak a little more confidently. “I would like to apologize for my behavior in the cafe. It was unjustified and biased,” she sounds like she is standing in front of shareholders’ meeting, presenting some dry statistics. “And I would like to make it up to you somehow.”

Lexa hasn’t expected the last phrase from herself. Clarke smiles flirtatiously, lifting one corner of her mouth.

“I accept your apologies, Lexa. But since we are negotiating,” the blonde stretches herself up playfully, slightly raises her chin, and continues with a stern expression on her face, hardly holding back her laughter. “I have a condition. Even two of them. You stop sounding so official and don’t refuse my help.”

Lexa is a little embarrassed, but when she looks at her sore leg, which drives her attention to the dull pain again, she finally gives up.

“I would... be ... very grateful, Clarke.”

“Much better, Lexa. And now let's save the damsel in distress,” she takes two steps forward and holds out her hand.

Lexa looks cautiously at the outstretched palm, but takes it anyway. Goosebumps run down her body, just like the last time they touched. This makes Lexa nervous, and she automatically puts her weight on both legs. A sharp pain immediately pierces through the ankle, and she hisses involuntarily, pulling the sore limb up and clutching Clarke's fingers with all her strength. The blind girl suddenly throws the stick on the ground and leans forward a little, holding Lexa by the shoulder and helping her to keep the balance.

“It’s pretty bad, right?” she whispers, but Lexa can only stare at her beautiful face, feeling the warm breath on her cheek. “Can you make it up to my apartment? It's upstairs.”

Lexa nods slightly, and Clarke is still standing motionlessly, waiting for an answer.

“Damn, Lexa, you’re an idiot.”

“Yes ... I'm sorry, yes, I can,” she mumbles.

“Great! Hold on to me then. Which leg hurts?”

“The right one.”

What Lexa didn’t expect was that Clarke would grab her waist from the opposite side and whisper.

“You smell nice,” Lexa tenses momentarily, and Clarke notices it. “I’m not hitting on you, Lexa. Don’t hold your breath. It's just a statement of a fact,” she smiles slyly. “Buddy, the stick.”

The obedient dog wags its tail once, grabs the cane lying on the ground with his teeth and runs up the stairs. It’s the first time Lexa sees such a smart animal. No, of course she’s heard about specially trained dogs for the blind, but didn’t expect them to be so clever.

They somehow manage to get to the door, Clarke pulls out her keys and is now trying to pick the right one.

Lexa is leaning on the railing, imagining for a moment what it would be like to go blind suddenly. She closes her eyes and covers them with her palm.
Darkness.
Absolute thick darkness covering her whole body.
You don’t see the sunlight, you can only feel its warmth on your skin.
You don’t see green trees, you can only hear the rustle of the leaves.
You don’t see the person in front of you, you can only blindly trust her. What a cruel wordplay.

“I’d go insane.”

“Hey, are you asleep there? Come in,” Clarke pulls her out of her thoughts, smiling and waving with her hand. “Welcome to my mole hole.”

“Do you always let strangers into your house?” Lexa can’t help asking the question.

“I never let strangers into my house. But you already aren’t a stranger, right? Come on, Limpy, we need to check your foot,” she steps slightly to the side, letting Lexa pass, and the girl enters a small, bright and surprisingly cool studio apartment.

The living room is completely tasteless. Here and there are things that not match together at all. Neon-orange pillows are scattered on a green couch, and a pale pink carpet is lying on the floor. Lexa, as a real design connoisseur, can’t help but grimace a little at the view. She is standing motionless next to Clarke.

“Um ... Yes, I was told that the room looks awful. But everything in here is soft and pleasant to touch,” she smiles. “Sit down on the sofa. And take off your shoes, I think the heels could only make the pain worse.”

“How…?”

“I'm blind, Lexa, not deaf,” Clarke lets out a nervous laugh and heads to a small kitchen, slightly extending one hand in front of her.

Lexa obeys, kicks off her heels, and jumps on the left leg towards the sofa. She drops herself on it and blissfully throws the head back.

“God, it's really comfortable.”

Clarke approaches her, holding a pack wrapped in a towel.

“These are frozen peas. I have no ice, but it’s still better than nothing. Take it,” she stops near the armrest, with one hand holding the back of the sofa, and hands Lexa the package.

“Thanks.”

Clarke suddenly hesitates, dropping her head slightly and playing with her fingers.

“I’d been studying for a doctor until... before I went blind. I can examine your leg, if you want. I mean... with my hands…”

Lexa freezes with peas in her fingers, a crimson blush suddenly blossoming on her cheeks.

“Um ... Yes, that would be nice.”

“What the hell, Lexa?”

Clarke nods, stretches her hand toward brunette’s shoulder and slowly crouches in front of her. She removes her palm from the shoulder and leaves it hanging in the air.

“Show me where it hurts.”

Lexa takes her outstretched hand and lays it on the aching leg. Soft, slightly cool fingers send goosebumps on her spine. Clarke tries to move her ankle gently, her other hand resting on Lexa’s knee.

“Does it hurt?” she asks in a low voice.

“Yes, but just a little.”

“It starts swelling. Give me the peas,” Clarke holds out her hand, and Lexa puts the pack in her palm. “You should hold it a little there, I’ll bring ointment and ace bandage,” she stands up abruptly and walks towards the bathroom.

“Clarke, you don’t have to ...” Lexa says quietly, but the blind girl no longer hears her, hiding behind the door. Lexa looks at the dog sitting near the coffee table, who’s somehow reproachfully staring at her. “What? I just don't want to bother her,” she whispers.

“You are not bothering me, this is just a part of our agreement, Lexa,” the blonde arrives so suddenly that Lexa jumps on her sit. “Let’s heal your ankle, loser,” she crouches again and gently finds the swollen spot.

“I'm not a loser,” Lexa raises her chin proudly.

“No? You fell flat on your ass, and a blind half-doctor helps you with your leg. If I were you, I would definitely be worried,” Clarke smiles flirtatiously.

She takes bandage from a bag and continues searching for a tube of ointment. Clarke fishes it out, unscrews the cap and sniffs.

“Found it,” she smiles, ready to squeeze the contents out onto her palm, but stops herself and hands the tube to Lexa. “Put it on your ankle.”

“Thank you,” Lexa mutters, and starts massaging the cool liquid into her leg. “God, this feels nice,” she breathes out with relief.

Clarke grins broadly as she pulls out the bandage. She takes it in one hand and touches Lexa’s knee.

“I'm sorry if I hurt you,” she says seriously and starts wrapping the bandage over the leg.

Lexa is fascinated by her actions.

“Now better put your poor limb on the sofa, it needs peace. Some water?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Clarke nods and heads again to the refrigerator.

Lexa closes her eyes and tries to feel the world around without the help of her eyes. Soft and smooth fabric under the fingers, soft pillow behind her back. And the smell... It’s just now when she draws her attention to the unusual, delicate smell that pervades the room with its slightly sweet hint. It is mild and light just like the owner of the apartment. She could compare it with the smell of peach yogurt.

“Yeah, peach yogurt,” Lexa smiles at her own thoughts and opens the eyes.

Clarke is already heading toward her with a glass in one hand and holding out the other in front of her to find the way. She stops at the table and puts the water on it.

“You are so quiet that sometimes I feel like I’ve thought you out,” she grins.

“I'm here,” Lexa says in a surprisingly soft voice and smiles back.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not kicking you out, but ... Isn’t it a working day today?”

“Shit,” Lexa opens her eyes in panic and pulls her phone out from the bag lying next to her. “What’s your address?” she gets of the couch and jumps toward the front door on one leg.

“Don't you think we know each other for a too short time for this?” Clarke is barely holding her laugh, biting the lower lip.

“Clarke!”

“That sounded like a threat,” the blind girl lifts her arms, defending herself. “Fine,” she dictates the address.

“Thank you,” Lexa puts one shoe on, jumping towards the other.

“You won’t wear those instruments of torture again, right?” Clarke raises her eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m not going to my work barefoot!”

“Why not?” the girl shrugges, holding back the giggles.

“Enough, I have to go,” Lexa throws, starting to get angry.

“Chill, I'll give you sneakers. Pray they fit you,” she walks along the wall to a small drawer and pulls out a pair of white nikes.

Lexa grabs the sneakers from her hands and quickly tries them on.

“Great!” she straightens up and suddenly freezes. “Um... I think I owe you even more now,” Lexa smiles slightly, and Clarke smiles back, too.

“It was nice to meet you,” the girl holds out her hand, and Lexa shakes it lightly. “Don’t forget to return my nikes.”

Both are standing silently, without taking their hands away. Lexa is looking at the shining face, and Clarke is listening to quiet breath in front of her. The touch is suddenly interrupted by Buddy, who touches their intervened hands with his cold nose and leads them both out of the stupor.

“I'll bring them back, I promise,” Lexa says quietly and disappears behind the door.

Chapter Text

The first heavy raindrop falls somewhere on the right, evaporating almost immediately on the melting concrete. A girl dressed in a strict pantsuit and green sneakers that don’t quite match it is hurrying along the street with a bag in her hands. She is limping slightly on her right leg. Strong gusts of wind are throwing long brown hair from side to side, and it now falls into her eyes. A black cloud is rapidly approaching the city, turning a bright summer evening into almost nightly darkness. The hurricane tears leaves from the trees and carries them through the concrete labyrinth, raising dust settled on the roads, mercilessly rapping on open windows and making newspaper pages tumble over the streets.

The girl presses the bag against her chest, it would otherwise be torn out of her hands and carried away in an unknown direction. She turns from a noisy street full of honking cars into a narrow, discreet alley. More and more heavy drops are falling down, and hot, stuffy air is about to be filled with the smell of wet asphalt. Flashes of light illuminate the dark buildings, and the eardrums nearly rupture from the thundering coming from overhead.

Lexa had a hard couple of days at work. She practically couldn’t get up from her chair let alone affording a lunch break.Why not breathe out calmly on this Friday night, go home and lie on the couch, putting the sore foot up on a pillow? But she decided that it was today she should return Clarke her sneakers. She hasn’t taken the girl’s phone number, so she didn’t have the opportunity to apologize or to warn about her visit.

Lexa didn’t take into account that the weather would play against her tonight. But now it worries her much less than the upcoming meeting. For the first time in several years, she feels ready to trust someone.
And she does. She trusted when she entered a stranger’s house. She trusted when she allowed to be touched. She trusted when she practically promised to meet again. This strange feeling she strangled with her own hands four years ago has returned again, piercing her chest with a pleasant anticipation.

Water starts pouring wildly from the sky, and the girl is still walking past the familiar Italian cafe. Just a couple of steps, and the clothes are getting heavier with the rain, and the shoes are half drowning in the fast water streams. Wet strands of hair are sticking to her cheeks, and small drops are falling from her nose onto the bag pressed to the chest.

She turns around the corner and catches a glimpse of a dark silhouette with a red umbrella quickly running down the familiar metal stairs and disappearing behind the curtain of rain. Lexa frowns slightly and looks up toward the closing door. She notices a narrow streak of light before it disappears.

“She’s at home.”

A slight smile blossoms on her wet face, and the girl climbs the stairs, carefully moving her legs not to slip on the metal trembling from the rain.
Knuckles knock on the wooden surface of the door, and a muffled voice comes from within:

“Raven, I’ve told you I’d be ok,” she hears Clarke tinkering with the lock, and the door slowly opens. “Or have you forgot something?”

A girl stands in front of her without sunglasses that could hide her eyes.

“God, why?”

Lexa can't tear her gaze from the bright blue iris of motionless eyes. She doesn’t want to accept the fact that the person who owns such a miracle isn’t able, and perhaps will never be, to see the colors of the world around her.
This is unfair.
She throws a glance across the face in front of her and notices slightly swollen eyelids and thin wet paths running from the corners of the eyes to the chin.

Buddy is standing right behind Clarke and wagging his tail. He still hasn’t made a sound. The girl frowns a little, not receiving an answer, and already starts closing the door when Lexa realizes she hasn’t said anything.

“It’s me... Lexa. I’ve brought your sneakers.”

“Oh, Lexa, hi! Sorry. I thought my friend was back,” Clarke smiles tightly and wipes her cheek fleetingly with the back of her hand.

“Something is clearly wrong.”

Lexa doesn’t want to intrude on the feelings of the girl she barely knows, but something inside screams for staying.

“I’ve realized that I didn’t have your number. Sorry for breaking in without warning,” she begins to chatter. “I’ll just leave the sneakers and go. Here…“

Lexa reaches for the hand of the blonde girl to put the wet bag into her palm. When cold, wet skin touches the soft and dry one, Clarke winces. Lexa puts the shoes in the warm hand and is about to leave when she is grabbed at her sleeve.

“You're soaked!” she stands still for a couple of seconds with her mouth open. “Come in, now!” Clarke’s tone isn’t sharp, it sounds more like worried, still it brooks no dissent.

The girl steps aside, and Lexa take a step into the apartment. The door is closed behind her, stunning the room with a loud bang.

“That’s stupid, Lexa!” Clarke is still standing next to her. “Thank you for returning the sneakers. Who would walk around in such weather?! As far as I understand, even without an umbrella?” she crosses her arms over the chest, but Lexa doesn’t give an answer. “Or is it just your cunning plan to get sick and use my miserable medicine knowledge as an excuse to see me again?” a faint hint of a grin appears on her face.

“What if it is?” Lexa grins back, still standing on a rug in front of the door.

“Then you'll have to go back and stand there for a little longer,” the smile of the blonde becomes noticeably wider, but she is still looking somewhat exhausted.

“You’ve been crying,” the words come out almost accidently, they are quiet, but Clarke hears, and the corners of her lips fall back immediately to their original place.

The girl lowers her head, taking a deep breath, but abruptly raises her chin and grins.

“Bingo, Sherlock. Now let's get you some tea,” Clarke turns away and slowly heads towards the kitchen.

Lexa kicks off her soggy sneakers and pulls off the wet socks, standing barefoot on the rug. Water is dripping from her trousers, and she doesn’t dare take a step on a dry surface.

“Clarke...” she shouts.

“Yes?”

“Since you’ve become my regular savior, would you help me one more time?” Lexa lowers her eyes in embarrassment. “I don't want to leave a puddle on your floor, so could you please give me some dry clothes?” she raises her eyes immediately, hearing a loud clatter from the kitchen.

“Shit!”

“Clarke, are you alright?” she rushes towards the sound, frowning a little from the dull pain in her ankle.

The girl turns around the corner. Clarke is standing in front of her with a kettle in her hands and fragments of a broken mug on the floor.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I’m used to it,” she answers smiling.

Clarke squats, cautiously running her palm across the floor in search of the shards. Lexa approaches her quickly, crouches and grabs the girl’s wrist.

“I'll help. Get up,” Lexa helps Clarke to get up, touching her elbow with a soaked sleeve.

“So you have left a puddle on my floor?” the blonde smiles and heads towards the opposite door where the bedroom might be.

“Would you rather cut yourself?” Lexa throws.

“No, I’d prefer not to walk around in the rain without an umbrella,” she shouts back.

Lexa smiles, but says nothing. She carefully collects the shards and throws them in the bin when she notices the dog sitting in front of her and cheerfully wagging its tail.

“Um... Hi, Buddy,” she whispers and strokes his head when he jumps on all four and buries nose in her palm. “Sorry, I’ve brought nothing edible with me,” Lexa smiles, “but next time I’ll grab something tasty for you.”

“Don't believe her, Buddy,” Clarke stepps out of the door and walks slowly towards the kitchen with dry clothes and a towel flipped over her arm. “The next time she stands in front of our door, she will be struck by lightning. And we’ll have no time for goodies, reviving her,” she enters the kitchen and pats her thigh a little. The retriever looks up from Lexa’s palm and runs towards the owner.

“Traitor,” Lexa scoffs.

“I'm worried about the fact that you're talking to a dog,” Clarke laughs. “Buddy, stay away from her.”

“But you’re also...”

“It's different. We have a mental connection,” she straightens up and takes a couple of steps forward, touching the table with her hand and putting dry clothes on it. “You can get changed.”

“Thank you,” Lexa picks up the clothes and heads toward the bathroom.

“You can change here, I don’t see anything anyway,” it makes the girl stop in her tracks and turn toward the blonde who is now smirking slyly.

Lexa swallows and raises an eyebrow.

“And someone said she wasn’t hitting on me.”

“If I were hitting on you, I would be standing much closer,” Clarke turns slightly towards the frozen girl and bites her lower lip, which makes Lexa nearly slip on the puddle that has already formed under her. “There is a rag in the cabinet in the bathroom. You owe me a cleanup,” Clarke lets out a short laugh and heads to the drawer, awkwardly pulling tea out of there.

“Lexa, breathe.”

She quickly enters the bathroom, changes the clothes and picks up the rag to clean up the flood. Clarke is still spinning, making the hot drink, while Lexa wipes the floor and comes closer.

“Can I help you?” she stops a meter away from the girl, watching how she pours boiled water into the mugs and fills them half full.

“No, I can handle it. Sorry if there’s not enough, but it's better than to get burned,” Clarke smiles sadly. “My clothes suit you,” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“Thanks,” Lexa smiles. “Wait, how ...?” she raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

Clarke laughs loudly.

“It’s a pity I can’t see your expression,” she covers her mouth with one palm.

Lexa stands with her mouth open in bewilderment and joins the laughing. When the laughter fades a little, she looks at Clarke more seriously and quietly says.

“Why were you crying?”

Clarke falls silent. She presses her lips, doomedly lowers her head, and brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. Lexa desires to touch her cheek with the fingertips, but stops herself halfway.

“I guess I need something stronger than tea for this,” Clarke grins, wiping another tear and turning to the cupboard, which hangs on the wall.

She runs her hand over the jars on the shelf and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. Clarke unscrews the lid, sniffs to make sure she’s grabbed the right drink, and grimaces at the heavy smell of alcohol.

“Take the glasses please. They’re in the same cupboard,” the girl moves towards the sofa in the living room, extending one arm in front of her as always.

Lexa stays motionless for several seconds, reproaching herself that she probably should mind her own business. She knows how lousy it can be when someone twists the knife. Lexa takes out the glasses and heads to Clarke who is lounging on the couch. A clatter of glass on wooden surface tears the girl out of her thoughts, and she straightens up, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the knees.

“Sorry, I don’t have ice for the drink. Could you pour me some please?” Clarke grips a glass from the table and waits.

Lexa takes it from her slightly trembling hands, pours the brownish liquid, and puts it back into weak fingers resting on her knee. It’s just now when she notices that the girl’s palm is covered with numerous scars and some fresh scratches, and a sticking plaster is wrapped around her index finger. It wasn’t there a couple of days ago.
“I'm used to it.”
The words she didn’t pay her attention to at once echo through her head. How could someone get used to this? How could someone get used to such a life at all, and what twist of fate could throw the girl with these incredible eyes into such circumstances? Question after question flash in her mind, but she doesn’t let any of them escape the mouth, realizing that it could only make it worse.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she says softly.

“There’s nothing extraordinary, Lexa,” Clarke grins bitterly, takes one big gulp, and nearly chokes on the burning liquid. “I hate this stuff,” she grimaces. “Is it even safe to drink?”

“Why are you drinking it then?” Lexa can’t help grinning.

“That’s my best painkiller,” the girl shrugs, smiling. “And my story is painfully reminiscent of a threadbare, cheap drama,” she says after a while with her head lying on the back of the sofa. “And it certainly wouldn’t get an Oscar,” she straightens up and whispers playfully, “the actors’ faces don’t fit the big screen standards.”

“I think you underestimate the main character,” Lexa grins.

“Can I take this as a compliment?” the girl raises an eyebrow, smiling widely.

“You can,” Lexa whispers.

Clarke falls silent for several seconds and stops moving, but Lexa sitting next to her can see how the blonde’s ears turn scarlet. It makes her smile.

“Who's hitting on whom now?” Clarke snorts and slightly turns the head in her direction, stopping her eyes on the wall behind Lexa. “I went blind seven years ago, to the day. I was 21 back then. That day my dad and I were driving home for the weekend, he picked me up from the station, and...” tears are starting to fall from Clarke's eyes again. “And some drunk asshole crashed into us. Dad died on the spot, and I...” she wipes the reddened cheek with the back of her hand. “Well… you can see the result,” Clarke grins nervously.

Lexa touches a soft palm and leans forward, embracing the girl with both hands. Clarke tenses a little, frantically inhaling the air, and then huddles up in quiet sobs, wiping her face on Lexa’s shoulder, who is hugging her tightly.

“I miss him so much,” she says sobbing, clutching at Lexa's shirt when she moves her palm from the girl’s back to her head. “I can't believe I’m telling a stranger about this,” Clarke sniffs, pulling away, and forces a smile.

“We already know each other, remember?” Lexa raises one corner of her lips and clears the throat, continuing more seriously. “I can’t imagine how it feels to lose sight in an instant, but...” she swallows, “I know what it’s like to lose a loved one.”

Chapter Text

“I can’t imagine how it feels to lose sight in an instant, but...” Lexa swallows, “I know what it’s like to lose a loved one.”

Buddy is comfortably sitting on the carpet next to the coffee table, resting his head on his stretched paws and trying not to ruin the quiet atmosphere of the room. The storm is still raging outside the window, pounding on the glass with heavy raindrops. The smell of whiskey standing on the table punches in the nose, mixing with the aroma of peach tea left in the kitchen.

The story, which Clarke has just told, pierces through Lexa's heart like a knife, opening it wider and releasing what was long trying to fly out.

She is sitting next to the blonde, resting one hand on her shoulder and the other on Clarke’s fingers squeezing her shirt hem. Lexa glances down, unable to look into the crying eyes of the blind girl anymore.

“I’ve lost my sister,” she swallows again, feeling an unpleasant burning liquid spreading across her stomach. “Her name was Anya, and she was the dearest person in my life. She and... Costia... I loved her,” a tear rolls down her cheek and falls right on Clarke’s hand, which makes her shudder a little.

“Don't ...” the girl runs her fingers over Lexa’s forearms, producing goosebumps.

“No. You’ve shared your story with me, and I want to tell you mine,” she falls silent for a few seconds. “Costia and I… We couldn’t stay away from each other, she was so nice. It was a great time,” Lexa grins bitterly. “And I was head over heels about her,” she takes her hand off Clarke's shoulder and brushes the tears away. “We agreed to meet all together in a cafe not far from Anya’s and my house. I was waiting at the entrance outside when she crossed the road and a car hit her…”

Clarke tightens her fingers around her arm, and Lexa starts sobbing frantically, pressing her palm against the temple and trying to calm down.

“The car stopped... And then... it just drove away,” the girl closes her mouth with a hand, choking on the sobs bursting out. “Anya had died before the ambulance arrived. They... just couldn’t get there in time,” Clarke grabs Lexa by her neck and pulls her closer, letting her face rest on her shoulder.

Lexa doesn’t change her position until she calms down and pulls away a few minutes after, slightly raising her chin. There are no more emotions on her wet red face.

“It was Costia... She didn’t notice her, and then she just... left. Before she was imprisoned, she said she had run away because she didn’t want to lose me,” Lexa is looking behind the blind girl with cold glassy eyes. “I’ve practically killed my sister with my own hands,” she spits every word, starting to shake again, and Clarke clenches her palms into fists.

“You know that's stupid, right? It’s not your fault,” she exhales sharply.

“I was still loving the person who ran away when I needed her most. I hate myself for that,” the trembling in her body intensifies, turning into convulsions.

Lexa clenches her teeth with all her strength as Clarke lays hands on her shoulders and shakes them lightly.

“Breathe,” Lexa hasn’t even noticed she stopped breathing. “Breathe... Do you trust me?”

“Yes...” a loud sob.

“Good. Do you hear my breath?” Clarke inhales and exhales loudly. “Repeat after me.”

Lexa closes her eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds, and takes a deep breath, letting oxygen fly into her lungs again. Skin-burning tears are rolling down her cheeks.

“I'm sorry, Lexa,” Clarke takes her hand in hers and starts soothingly stroking her knuckles.

“Me too, Clarke,” the girl smiles sadly.

“Blindness definitely has its benefits,” Clarke grins slyly through her tears. “At least I don’t see your puffy face,” Lexa snorts and indignantly raises her eyebrows. “What? My shirt is all wet from your snot and saliva,” the blind girl shrugs.

“You’re one to talk,” Lexa mutters back.

“You’re just like Buddy, he is also a slobbery little monster,” the dog catches his name, jumps up on all four, running to Clarke, licks her hand, and snuggles his nose into her stomach. “See?” the girl laughs.

“Are you ever serious?” Lexa runs her fingers through the warm golden fur.

“Do you want me to be?” Clarke wiggles her eyebrows.

“No,” Lexa grins, shaking her head.

“Great,” Clarke bites her lower lip. “ Do you know what I really wanna do tonight?”

“God.”

Eyes automatically fall on soft lips reddened from biting. The heartbeat rises slightly, causing a faint tingling sensation in her fingertips.
“I want to get falling-down drunk,” Clarke says quietly and smiles cunningly, groping for a glass on the table and pushing it toward Lexa. “Pour.”

“May I join you?” Lexa asks somewhat embarrassed, squeezing the girl’s fingers a little harder.

She has just noticed that they are still holding hands, and a light blush covers her cheeks. Clarke raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Damn, Lexa, I thought that went without saying,” she tilts her head slightly and conspiratorially whispers. “Actually, you are now wearing my clothes, and I don’t want you to ruin them running through ankle deep puddles. Why am I worried though?” Clarke shrugs playfully. “You can’t run anyway.”

Lexa lifts her chin.

“If I need to catch someone, YOU won’t have a chance to run away,” she says, smiling mockingly, and the blind girl raises both palms in a defensive gesture. Lexa immediately feels unpleasant cold on the spot where a warm hand has just been lying.

“You’re good at threatening, you know? But I have my own savior. Buddy won’t let you harm me,” she scratches behind the dog’s ear.

“Not this time, Clarke. Right, Buddy?” Lexa pats his head and whispers. “Speak,” the dog barks loudly.

“That's not fair,” Clarke shakes her head smiling. “Can I ask you a personal question?” she says a little calmer.

“If you want to know where I got such skills of threatening people, I'm not a mafia boss. But this capability is a must for the head of financial company affiliate.”

“I knew it! You were so nasty in the cafe,” Lexa rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I’d like to ask though... How often do you have attacks?” Clarke says carefully.

Lexa presses her lips together and lowers the head, staring at the hands folded on her lap.

“Last time 4 years ago.”

“That happened then, right?” Clarke frowns, and finds Lexa's hand with hers again.

“Yes,” she answers barely audibly, gently squeezing the fingers touching her. Clarke nods.

Lexa hasn’t noticed how much she estranged from the outside world over these 4 years. She couldn’t get close to any person, drowning herself in work and putting out the thorns. And all the despair accumulated within was pressing harder on her heart every day, waiting for the opportunity to break out of the chest with all its might.

“That’s great you’ve talked out a little then,” Clarke smiles softly. “Don’t hope that I care about you,” she tilts her head playfully, “I’m a psychologist actually. I studied it after I went blind. Didn’t want to be completely useless for the society, so…” the girl shrugs. “I’m helping poor guys like me stay positive.”

Lexa bites her lip to hold the compliment trying to fly out of her mouth.

“So... you’ve said something about ‘getting falling-down drunk’?”

---

A bright sunbeam is shining through the crack between the dark, thick curtains, illuminating the room with a dim morning light. Small specks of dust are flying chaotically in the air, turning into dazzling meteorites falling here and there. There is one empty bottle of whiskey on the table, two equally empty glasses, one of which is lying on its side in a small puddle of some liquid, and a half-filled bottle of red wine.

Lexa is sprawled on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, with one leg tossed on the soft green upholstery and an elbow covering her eyes. As soon as she moves it a little, a ray of light hits in her face, finally waking the girl. She rises from her not-so-comfortable position, pressing her hand to the temple in a futile attempt to calm the headache, looks around, takes a glance at the disorder on the table, and stares at the dust particles for several seconds, recalling how she drew the only curtains in the apartment yesterday.

“Clarke.”

The other girl is nowhere to be seen. She seems to have vanished with her miracle guide dog.

Lexa slowly gets on her feet, staggering slightly from the black dots flying in front of the eyes, until they disappear from sight. She walks into the kitchen, limping a little, fills the first grabbed mug with tap water, and drinks it in one gulp. Her back aches from the night spent on the floor, and Lexa tries to stretch up and lean to the sides to get rid of unpleasant feeling in the muscles. She stumbles back and rummages in her bag in search of life-saving painkillers.

“Clarke might need those now, too.”

Speaking of her. She is still not visible anywhere, so Lexa steps toward the half-open door of the bedroom and carefully looks inside. It’s much lighter here, because there are no curtains in this room at all. She glances at Clarke who is now lying on the floor. She is curled up on a fleecy carpet, resting her head on her elbow, and calmly sniffling with open mouth. Right next to the blind girl, Buddy is leaning against her back and trying to keep her warm. As Lexa takes a step inside, the dog stirs and looks up at her with questioning eyes. He jumps on his paws, runs a few meters to the dumbfounded girl, frantically wagging his tail, and barks loudly.

“Shhh,” Lexa hisses, looking at the animal in front of her with imploring expression.

“Buddy, go walk yourself,” comes slurredly from below.

Clarke moves slightly, pressing her knees to her chest.

“Someone hasn’t made it to bed,” flashes through Lexa's head, and she grins and stumbles toward the girl curled up on the carpet. Hand gently touches the open, cool skin of the shoulder.

“Clarke,” she tries to move her a little, but she doesn’t react. “Clarke, the sun is up, the birds are singing,” Lexa says a little louder.

“Bullshit, I don’t see any sun,” is muttered sleepily in response.

The heart falls somewhere into stomach, pounding unpleasantly all over the body from the words pronounced. She kneels next to the girl, softly running fingers over the girl’s ribs and tickling the skin with her long flowing hair. Clarke moves again and rolls over on her back. She opens her eyes automatically and shuts them again.

Lexa cringes at the sight again and lays her hand on Clarke’s forearm.

“How’s your head?” she asks, trying to sound as lighthearted as possible.

“Like I was working the whole night through, knocking some sense into my patient’s head,” Clarke answers with a husky voice, smiling broadly and staring at the ceiling. Lexa rolls her eyes and gently slaps her arm.

“Oh, trust me, I feel the same way,” she takes a deep breath. “Breakfast?”

“You know how to cook?” Clarke raises her eyebrows.

“Yeah, but you haven’t deserved to taste any of my masterpieces yet,” the blind girl frowns at these words, but starts smiling cheerfully in an instant.

“Yet?”

“Yet,” Lexa grins and help her get up, pulling by the hand. “Let's fresh ourselves up now. The weather is great, and I know an awesome cafe nearby,” Clarke lets out a satisfied laugh and straightens up.

“First of all, we need to walk Buddy,” she pats slightly on her thigh, and the retriever buries his nose in her stomach.

“We can make a detour and walk him on the way to the cafe,” Lexa says seriously, puts her hands on the hips, and frowns thoughtfully.

“It seems like our friend has just switched on her Miss-I-Plan-Everything mode. Huh, Buddy?” she scratches the dog behind its ear and raises her head. “But I like the idea. Dibs on the first shower.”

Clarke heads toward the door, brushing against Lexa’s shoulder, and disappears from sight after throwing a short ‘sorry’.

---

Fresh breeze is pleasantly tickling the open skin of the neck. Birds who found their shelter from the constant noise of the big city are sitting on tree branches, hiding in thick green foliage and bestowing passers-by with undulating trills.

The girls are sitting at the table Lexa occupied the last time and silently drink aromatic, freshly brewed coffee, chewing crispy Italian pastries with hints of cinnamon and raisins with rum. Lexa is sitting closer to the door so that she is completely covered by the shadow of the red-white canopy. Clarke is lying in the chair that is completely flooded with light and blissfully exposes her face covered to the sun. Buddy has settled down under the table and is bathing in the sun, just like his owner.

Lexa can’t tear her eyes from the blonde girl sitting opposite, bringing the cup to her lips without looking when she puts it back on the table. Little by little, she starts realizing that Clarke attracts her stronger with every minute, and she can’t and doesn’t want to fight this feeling, allowing herself to go with the flow. Even if at the end there is a bone-crushing waterfall.

“Thank you,” Clarke says suddenly, sighing heavily. “Thank you for staying,” she turns her head towards Lexa.

“Isn’t it me who should say thank you? You’ve managed to withstand my behavior when we first met,” she is ticking off on her fingers, “saved my leg, didn’t let me freeze in the rain, and... listened to my whining.”

“Damn, you're right...” Clarke taps her finger on the table. “I take it back.”

Lexa laughs along with her, and an awkward silence hangs over the table a few seconds after.

“Um... I thought... I still haven’t made it up to you, so... May... May I invite you somewhere?” she raises her eyes at the blonde and squeezes her hands into fists. Clarke smiles playfully.

“Are you inviting me on a date?” she bites her lower lip.

“God, please don't do this,” Lexa swallows hard and continues, putting on a smile.

“Don’t hold your breath, Clarke. It's only an apology.”

“You’ve just hurt my pride,” Clarke frowns, pretending to be offended.

“What if I come after you tomorrow evening?” the ghost of hope slips into Lexa's voice.

“If Raven agrees...”

“Raven?” she frowns.

“Yes, Raven is my friend. If she agrees to take Buddy tomorrow, then yes. Why not?” the girl grins and reaches for her phone to send a voice message to her friend.

Meanwhile, Lexa can’t help shifting on her sit with happiness. She is ready to jump on her chair, feeling the blood flowing faster through her veins.

“Calm down, Lexa. Don’t be a weirdo.”

A couple of seconds after, a computer voice is heard from the phone, reading an incoming message. 'I’d adopt your dog if you finally found someone for...' Clarke covers the speaker with her hand in an instant and blushes brightly.

“Sorry, she's too... caring sometimes,” she presses her lips together and takes a deep breath.

Lexa barely holds back a laugh, covering her mouth with a palm.

“Yeah, sure,” she smiles widely. “By the way, I need your phone number.”

Chapter Text

The clock says exactly 18:44.
They agreed that Lexa would pick her up at 19:00, and her meticulous punctuality doesn’t allow the girl to knock 15 minutes earlier. Lexa is standing with her back leaning on the metal railing of the stairs, which lead to the apartment of an amazing blonde girl, and holding her hands in the pockets. The toes of her green sneakers are drawing circles on dusty asphalt.

The heat wave is running through the streets again, but the approaching evening is already making the hot air cooler. Minutes are passing unbearably slowly, and the girl sighs nervously every now and then, trying to calm the excitement accumulated in her chest.

She is confident usually, but this time Lexa doubts her slightly childish decision. She’s chosen a rather strange place to apologize to Clarke, and she is a little scared of the thought that the girl will certainly not miss the excellent opportunity to make fun of her after that.

Lexa takes a deep breath, straightens up, and slowly heads up the stairs.
A short knock on the door.
Muffled, but quick steps are heard from the inside.
The lock clicks, and Lexa barely has a second to take a quick step back, when the door is swung open. An unfamiliar girl with long brown hair gathered in a ponytail stand in front of her, and Buddy rushes around at her feet.

“Good afternoon…”

“Hi, I'm Raven,” she smiles slyly and holds out her hand.

“Lexa, nice to meet you... Is Clarke...” she says unsure, looking deep into the apartment.

“She's getting changed, she’ll come out in a minute,” the girl is examining her from head to toe, a smirk never leaves her face.

As if on cue, a blonde head sticks out of the bedroom.

“Raven, are you still here?” there is a hint of anxiety in the husky voice.

“Yep,” she shouts back, still without taking her eyes off Lexa. “And not just me. But I'm already leaving,” she turns toward the blonde standing near the sofa in the living room. “Clarke, she's damn hot.”

Lexa is rooted to the spot at such unceremonious and embarrassing words, which soon reflects on her cheeks and ears. Raven calmly throws a short ‘bye’ to both of them and, grabbing Buddy with her, runs down the stairs, hiding around the corner.
Lexa is still standing near the door, trying to catch her breath and looking at Clarke who is also blushing brightly.

“Tell me you are not here and you’ve heard nothing,” the blind girl says quietly, raising her eyebrows in shock.

Lexa clears her throat, announcing her presence.

“I'm afraid I'm already here,” she replies just as quietly as Clarke.

“Sorry,” the blind girl sighs deeply, tugging at her bag. “It's just that Raven is... Raven,” she grins, taking a step towards Lexa. “So... where are we going?”

Lexa smiles nervously and says, trying to hide the excitement in her voice.

“Let it be a surprise.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do like surprises. But the fact that I need a swimsuit bothers me a little,” Clarke tilts her head slightly. “Let me guess, have you planned a romantic dinner on a lakeside?” there’s this sly grin again.

Lexa bites her lip, wondering how to answer the question.

“Neither romantic nor a dinner. You'll find out soon,” she steps into the apartment. “Let's go?”

Clarke nods vigorously and slowly heads towards Lexa. Stepping closer to the girl who never takes her eyes off her, she presses her lips for a moment.

“Let's go.”

---

The car cuts the air, racing through concrete jungles. The girls are driving in complete silence, listening to the rustle of rubber tires against asphalt and enjoying albeit a small speed, which though forces the back to push harder into the chair.

Lexa tries to drive as carefully as possible, which is unusual, because she is a real fan of fast driving. Not this time though. It’s much more important for her to bring the passenger to the right place safe and sound. Moreover, Clarke is one of a few people who has ever sat in her car.

“I loved driving,” Clarke breaks the silence suddenly, she puts her hands on her lap. “Especially with the windows open. I liked the way the wind blew into my face,” she is looking in front of herself, without blinking at cars and traffic lights flickering around.

Lexa is silent, she doesn’t know what to say. That’s why without thinking twice she presses a button, and the window next to the blind girl lowers quickly, letting the air rush into the salon with a powerful wind stream.

Clarke turns her head in Lexa’s direction and smiles broadly.

“Thank you,” the words come out barely audible due to the wind whistling around, but Lexa hears them and gives a smile in response, even if the girl cannot see it.

Clarke turns back to the window and carefully sticks out her hand, making smooth wavy movements, allowing it to swim in the air. She closes her eyes automatically and turns her face towards the cool wind, enjoying the long-forgotten sensations.

“It would be enough, if you just let me sit like this for a while,” she says louder. “In case it’s really just an apology,” Clarke raises one eyebrow playfully.

“I've already planned everything,” Lexa tightens her grip on the steering wheel, doubting her idea even more now.

“Yeah, of course,” Clarke tries to cover the grin growing on her lips with a hand.

---

The car slows down, and the air streams hitting the blonde’s face become noticeably weaker.

“Are we there?” Clarke twitches on her seat as if she’s been torn from a deep sleep.

“Um... Not really. We still have some time, so... Do you mind taking a walk in a park?” Lexa stops the car, unfastens the belt, and turns to the girl, who continues sitting motionless, sticking her hand out of the window.

“Are you going to cut my throat and bury me somewhere under the bushes? Is that why we haven’t taken Buddy with us?” Clarke tries to grope the door handle, pretending to panic. “Help!” she sticks her head out of the window, attracting the attention of several passers-by.

“Stop,” Lexa laughs and nudges her gently.

She gets out of the car and hurries to the other side to chivalrously open the passenger door.

“What are your last words?” she says in a low voice, trying to give it as much graveness as she can.

“Damn, I'm definitely not going anywhere now,” Clarke laughs and climbs out of the car with the help of Lexa, who gently pulls her at her elbow. “I'm afraid to disappoint you, but you’ve chosen a too crowded place.”

Cheerful children's laughter and loud barking is heard from the park.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll find a quiet corner.”

They both laugh, standing next to the car. Lexa locks it while Clarke delves into her bag. Out of the corner of her eye she watches the girl taking out a white cane, unfolding it in a full length, and then lowering to the ground with one end. She purses her lips in an attempt to rein the heart, which starts beating against the rib cage like a drum.

“Do you really need this?” Lexa is almost whispering.

“How do you think am I supposed to walk then?” Clarke grins cheerfully, it seems that this question hasn’t offended her at all. “Buddy is not here,” she shrugs. “And it’s probably not very convenient to touch the road with my hands.”

Lexa stares at the cane squeezed in the girl’s left hand for a couple of seconds and as if spellbound reaches for her right palm, lacing their fingers. She looks up, meeting with amazed blue eyes.

A loud popping sound somewhere in a distance pulls Lexa out of her stupor, and she pulls the hand back, clearing her throat.

“I'm sorry... I’m... just…” she tries to come up with at least logical explanation for her action, but nothing reasonable comes to mind. “I want to help you.”

Clarke bites her lower lip, folds the stick, puts it back into the bag, and holds out her hand to the dumbfounded Lexa, who hesitantly takes it in hers.

“Are you sure it's just an ‘apology’?” she says with a mockery in her voice.

“No,” Lexa strokes warm skin with her thumb. “This is a thank you for the help you so kindly provided me.”

Clarke frowns a little and opens her mouth to say something, but changes her mind and nods.

“That is, there won’t be an apology?” she tries to mask the disappointment in her voice, but Lexa notices it anyway.

“Who knows?” the girl shrugs playfully, and they head towards the park.

---

“Shit!” Clarke cries out, for a hundredth time tripping over one more stairway the paths of the park are full of.

Lexa grabs the girl by her shoulders, not letting Clarke rub her nose against the concrete. She is stuck in her thoughts because of the feeling of a warm hand in her own, and she doesn’t pay any attention to the obstacles on their way.

“Shall I maybe take a stick? It’s much more useful than your help,” Clarke mutters indignantly.

“I'm sorry, I'll be more attentive,” Lexa squeezes her hand harder and takes a deep breath.

They are walking slowly along the path in surprisingly comfortable silence. The smell of a summer evening floats in the air with the hints of blossoming flowers and a freshly mowed lawn, which intensifies when the night is drawing in. The sky begins to turn into bright red and orange colors, foretelling the imminent darkness.

“Is there another stairway soon?” Clarke reminds of her presence.

“No, only in fifty meters. Everything is under control,” Lexa answers, looking guiltily at her feet.

A few silent seconds pass.

“What about now?” the blind girl starts smiling, and Lexa is even more embarrassed.

“We have some more time. Would you like to eat something?” she is trying to switch the subject from her absent-mindedness to a more pleasant one.

“I certainly won't mind,” Clarke squeezes her hand encouragingly.

There is a small fast food truck a couple of meters away from them. It lures passers-by with the tempting smell of street food.

“Any preferences?” Lexa stops and turns to her companion.

“Something terribly tasty and unhealthy please,” she answers cheerfully, simultaneously fishing money out of her bag with a free hand.

“No,” Lexa gently lays her palm on the fingers clutching the notes. “It’s on me today. Stay here,” she runs toward the food truck, leaving Clarke alone to stand still, which makes the girl uncomfortable. She pulls on her dark sunglasses, which gives her a little confidence when she is in a crowded place.

Lexa returns a couple of minutes later with two hot dogs in her hands, stopping for a second in front of the girl who has hidden her amazing eyes from the world again. She comes closer and puts a hot bun with a sausage into Clarke's hand. Clarke holds the hot dog up to her nose and breathes in loudly.

“Is it…”

“A hot dog,” Lexa answers without waiting for her to finish the question.

“I bet you have a dietary salad in your hands with some terribly healthy verdure now,” Clarke winces and bites the bun.

“Why would you think that?” Lexa is embarrassed, staring at a same hot dog in her hands.

“Your manners,” the girl answers, cheerfully chewing a piece of sausage.

“You would lose then,” Lexa smiles. “How do you say again...? We are not what we seem?”

Clarke almost chokes on the words and coughs. Lexa smirks satisfied.

“So you’ve decided to treat me to hot dogs today?” the girl tries to change the topic.

“Not really, I’ve prepared something else.”

---

The car stops again in about a ten-minute ride from the park. Lexa helps Clarke get out of the passenger sit, and they head together towards a huge building that looks like a stadium. At the large, sparkling glass doors they are met by a slender, smiling woman in simple shorts and a t-shirt.

“Miss Woods,” she holds out a hand.

“Good evening, Miss Blake,” Lexa shakes her hand. “Thank you for agreeing to let us in after hours.”

“Without you and your financial counselling there wouldn’t be even an opening I'm afraid,” the girl turns to Clarke. “And you must be Miss...”

“Griffin, but you can call me Clarke,” she holds out her hand and feels a careful squeeze.

“Nice to meet you. You can call me Octavia then,” the girl smiles broadly. “Well, please come in. I’ll show you where you can get changed.”

Clarke purses her lips in bewilderment, but says nothing and follows Lexa, who is pulling her by her hand. When the door to the room where they were brought by Octavia is closed, there is a pressing silence in the air.

“You can get changed here. And you’ll need your swimsuit now,” Lexa says quietly and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind her. She stands in the hallway, propping up the wall and silently looking at the photos hanging all over the corridor.

About ten minutes later the door creaks quietly, and Clarke shows up in front of her in all her glory.

"That’s it. I’m a goner."

Lexa almost chokes on her own saliva at the look of open pale skin, she can’t take her eyes off the girl who is now standing right in front of her.

Clarke clears her throat.

“Is anybody here?” embarrassment is heard in her voice.

Lexa bounces off the wall torn from her stupor.

“Yes, I'm here,” she comes closer, grabs Clarke’s hand. “Let's go,” and drags her along the corridor, heading towards the large metal door in the end.

As soon as she opens it, a bright bluish light blinds her. A large room is filled with loud splashes of water, and echoing sounds of clicking and whistling are reflecting from the walls.

“No,” Clarke raises her eyebrows, covering her mouth with one hand and clutching Lexa’s hand with the other.

“Clarke?” the girl tenses immediately at her reaction to the sounds. “Are you okay? If you don’t like it, or if you are afraid of dolphins, we can leave. We will leave. Do you hear me?” she tries to find signs of fear in the blind blue eyes.

But instead of running away, Clarke suddenly presses her whole body against Lexa, wrapping her arms around her neck. Lexa widens her eyes and opens her mouth in surprise.

“Thank you,” the blonde girl whispers, trying to embrace Lexa more tightly, which makes her breathe out with relief.

A cough sounds from the side.

“So, Clarke, we will ask Miss Woods to sit away from water now, you will put on a wetsuit, and we can start,” Octavia comes closer to them. “Have you ever swum with dolphins?”

---

“It's a pity you didn't swim with us,” Clarke said, smiling like a cheshire cat.

They have almost reached her apartment and stopped at the stairs. Lexa just smiles silently.

“Were you afraid to destroy your reputation in front of your former client?” Clarke asks playfully.

“No, I just saw how well you got together with the fish and chose not to ruin the moment,” she shrugs, putting her hands into the pockets.

“First and foremost, they are mammals,” Clarke is indignant, and Lexa rolls her eyes. “Secondly, you should have made at least some sound so that I could splash water on your face. You wouldn’t have been be so bored then.”

“First and foremost, I know that dolphins are mammals,” Lexa tries to defend herself. “Secondly...” she hesitates, watching Clarke rummage in her bag for keys, “hot dogs are not normal food I guess, so... Would you like to have dinner with me? On Friday for example, or any other day? If you don’t have time, knocking some sense into some poor one, then maybe a breakfast or something?” Lexa gibbers, staring at her sneakers and not noticing how the blonde smiles, biting her lip.

“A thank you again?”

Lexa looks up and regrets it immediately, because she has to gather all her strength to mutter an answer.

“No, this time an apology, for sure,” she almost whispers.

“Well, if an apology, then I definitely agree,” Clarke stands with one foot on the step and reaches for the railing. “I'll make an appointment for you for Friday evening,” she toys with a bag strap. “Buddy and Raven are probably already waiting for me inside, so... Thank you, that was amazing.”

“Yeah, sure. I'm glad you liked it,” Lexa takes a deep breath. “I'll send you the info about Friday later. See you,” she lightly touches the hand on the railing and disappears around the corner, leaving Clarke standing motionless on the stairs and smiling stupidly into the darkness.

---

Monday.
Tuesday.
Wednesday.
Thursday.
Friday. Finally.

Lexa is sitting at the table in her office and counting down the seconds until she can get out of the building and go where she has been wanting to be for a whole week. All this time she and Clarke were exchanging voice messages, the main purpose of which was to mock each other. But she was insanely happy about any kind of communication with her, because it brought her inexplicable joy.

“Inexplicable? Are you sure?”

When the second hand on the watch got to the awaitened place, the girl jumped up, grabbed her bag, and rushed out of the room. She ran to the car, threw the heels she has been wearing a couple of days into the car trunk and pulled on the green sneakers. She leaves some folders in the back seat and walks toward her favorite place in the city.

Lexa overcomes the distance quickly and a few minutes later stands in front of the door she needs.
A short knock, and after a few seconds she hears the same steps as the last time. Raven peeks out of the door and smiles widely.

“Clarke, your sexy girlfriend is here. Buddy and I are leaving,” she shouts into the apartment and steps towards Lexa, lingering for a few seconds next to the girl. “I hope you’ll plan a date for three of you next time. This slobbery monster has ruined my couch,” she whispers menacingly and runs down the stairs with the dog, making Lexa drop her jaw just like the last time.

The girl blushes and udoes the top button of her white shirt to make it easier to breathe. She steps into the apartment.

“Clarke?”

“I'm here!” sounds from the bedroom. “I’m ready in a second!”

Lexa turns to the girl who is slowly approaching her, and stops breathing. She swallows loudly when Clarke wearing a summer blue dress appears in front of her. Would she deny that she’s head over heels for this girl?

“I wouldn’t.”

“So... How are you going to thank me this time?” Clarke takes a step forward.

“If you’ve forgotten, I will apologize this time,” Lexa approaches her, taking the blonde’s hand. “And this time I’ll pay more attention to the stairways,” she says a little quieter, looking into the motionless blue eyes, which now seem to be brighter from the emotions filling them.

“Let's go then,” Clarke smiles even wider, and they go to the car, which is still parked not far from Lexa’s work.

---

“Welcome to the ‘Dine In The Dark’ restaurant,” an administrator greets them with a friendly smile. “Have you booked a table?”

“Yes, booked under the name Woods please,” Lexa continues holding Clarke's hand.

When the blind girl hears the name of the restaurant, her eyebrows rise in an instant, and fingers start squeezing Lexa’s hand stronger.

“Glad to see you at our place, Miss Woods. Now I will call your guide for today. He will take you to the table and tell you what to do next. But first, please let me know if you and your friend have any preferences in food, a diet or allergies?”

“No, I'm not allergic,” Lexa turns her head to Clarke and gently squeezes the hand of the silent girl. “Clarke?”

“Yes... I mean, no, I have no allergies.”

Lexa feels alarmed by the frightened expression on her face and she turns back to the administrator.

“Could you give us a second and tell our guide come in five minutes or so?”

“Yes, of course, Miss. I will tell him not to rush.”

“Thank you.”

Lexa pulls Clarke to the side.

“Clarke, are you okay?” she lays a hand on the shoulder of amazed girl.

“Lexa, are you sure? You know what makes this restaurant special, right?” she lowers her head slightly, and her eyes are now looking somewhere at the abdomen of the girl in front of her.

“Yes,” she answers calmly. “It’s quite clear from the name,” she says with slight mockery in her voice, “but that's why we came here. I want... to understand you,” she strokes her thumb over the tender shoulder skin. “And if I dump some soup on my chest, it will be a worthy punishment for my behavior when we first met,” she grins, and Clarke does the same, raising her chin higher.

“Okay, if you really understand what you are doing, then let’s go punish you,” Lexa can’t help imagining other circumstances in which these words could be spoken out loud. Her cheeks turn bright red.

“Ladies,” sounds nearby, “my name is Monty, and I will be your guide and waiter all in one today, it is very nice to meet you,” the young man smiles politely.

He keeps his gaze, looking straight in front of him.

“He is blind.”

“Monty?” Clarke takes a step forward. “Is that you?”

“Oh, Dr. Griffin!” the smile on his face widens. “How nice to meet you again! And I'm glad that under other circumstances,” he adds.

“How are you?” Clarke shines because of an unexpected meeting, and Lexa feels an unpleasant prick of jealousy.

“As you can see, everything is much better than I could have imagined. Thanks to you I guess,” Monty shrugs happily. “Now let me take you to your table. Miss Woods,” he turns to Lexa,“ hold on to my shoulders and follow me. Miss Griffin, hold on to Miss Woods.”

They enter an absolutely dark room. There are sounds of tapping of cutlery against plates, quiet conversations and light muffled music. The door closes and blackness covers Lexa's vision completely. She feels Clarke touching her shoulders a little more clearly, the smells become more intense, and the sounds are louder.

“Okay, we’ve got to your table. Now let me help you find your chair,” Monty says and turns to Lexa to take her hands and put them on the back of the chair as far as she can feel it. “I will bring you your dishes and drinks. You will be able to find out what you’ve tried only after the dinner is over. If you need anything, just call me by name and I will walk up to the table. Enjoy.”

Judging by the retreating steps Monty is not here anymore, and they are left alone in complete silence.

“Haven’t you changed your mind yet?” Clarke sounds uncertain.

“I'm a little scared, but Monty is a very nice young man,” Lexa answers in an even voice. “Do you know each other?”

“He was my patient half a year ago. I helped him cope with depression after he lost his sight,” a husky voice is heard across from her.

“I like that voice, too.”

“Do you know what scares me most right now?” Lexa tries to give her words a mystical note.

“What?”

“Is it dark in the toilets, too?”

Clarke bursts out laughing, and the cheerful noise floods the room.

“I can help you with this, Lexa,” she says playfully. “I certainly remember how much Buddy is a safer guide than you, so I’ve taken my cane. I can share.”

“I bet she’s biting her lower lip now,” Lexa thinks smiling.

“Ladies, please take your hands from the table, I will put your dishes in front of you now,” Monty’s voice is heard nearby. “You may find your cutlery on the table to your right. There are also glasses of wine right above the plates. Bon appetit,” the steps are retreating again.

Lexa leans slightly, holding her hair with one hand, and groping the plate with the other. She sniffs, feeling the hints of orange and fresh, well-cooked meat in the air.

“Well...” she sighs. “Let's see if I’m able to bring a fork to my mouth without looking,” the joyful laughter that sounds nearby makes her heart beat faster.

---

Lexa has to change her shirt, because she has managed to dump her wine on it, touching the edge of the table with the glass stem and splashing about a half of the contents onto the white fabric. She changes the shirt in the car, prudently taking spare clothes with her. And now the girls are slowly walking along the familiar street, holding their hands.

“So... How was it to find yourself in my shoes?” Clarke asks after a couple of minutes of silence.

“I’d thought it would be difficult, but... I couldn’t have imagined that this much,” Lexa answers seriously. “Have you ever thought to see a doctor again?” she looks at the frowning girl.

“I've been examined by many of them,” Clarke shrugs.

Her weak, almost dangling hand arises in Lexa the desire to protect. But the pain, which can be now read in every movement of the blind girl makes her leave the topic of treatment for another time.

“I still don’t understand,” she says smiling, trying to switch the subject to a lighter one. “How do you get close to people? What if your sight returns, and your chosen one is not your type at all?”

Clarke pauses, raising her eyebrows.

“God, Lexa. What about the whole ‘looks don’t matter’ thing?” she grins and stepps forward again. “In fact, you can imagine what a person looks like without using your sight for this.”

“How’s that? By voice?”

“No, it’s tactile. You can touch someone’s face,” the girl answers and smiles.

They go around the corner, and a familiar staircase appears in front of their eyes.

“Raven has said you're beautiful,” Clarke gropes for the railing.

“What, want to touch my face?” Lexa smiled slyly.

“Will you let me?” the girl is visibly embarrassed.

“I'll think about it if you disinfect your hands.”

Clarke laughs and starts climbing up the stairs, takes out the keys and approaches the door.

“Are you coming? I’m going to ‘disinfect’ my hands,” she presses her lips uncertainly, and Lexa can’t overcome the desire to get closer and enter the apartment.

Clarke heads towards the bathroom without taking off her shoes, and the second girl is following her, involuntarily paying attention to the silence and emptiness of the apartment.

♫ Coldplay - Hypnotised ♫

“Is Buddy staying with Raven today?” she asks.

“Yep, she decided to make a movie night with him. She likes him more than me I suspect,” Clarke answers, soaping her hands.

“Judging by her threats today, I wouldn't say that.”

“Now may I?” the blonde girl wipes her hands and shows the washed palms.

Lexa examines her from head to toe and squints slyly.

“Nah, I’ve changed my mind,” she says holding back her laughter.

Clarke opens her mouth and frowns. She raises her hand, pointing with her index finger at the door.

“Okay, get out then!” she tries to sound as threatening as possible, but hints of laughter sound in her voice.

Lexa looks into blue laughing eyes, and a smile slowly starts leaving her face. She takes a step forward, letting the outstretched hand touch her cheek. Clarke shivers as if she has just touched a power cord, but a second after she fully lays her palm on the girl’s chin. Lexa closes her eyes for a moment, involuntarily leaning toward the soft fingers. She reaches forward to take the girl’s second hand and lays it on her other cheek.

Clarke opens her mouth, weightlessly rubbing her fingers against the high forehead, gliding over the eyebrows and lowering onto the sharp cheekbones. The index finger of the left hand flies over the nose and stops above the upper lip.

“I wish I could to see your eyes,” she whispers, barely audible.

“They're not as beautiful as yours,” Lexa answers just as quietly, burning the fingers with her hot breath.

Clarke swallows again and lowers her hand to trace the lower lip with her fingertips.

“Raven was right. You are beautiful,” a soft whisper, and blue eyes are almost peering into the wide eyes of the bewitched girl.

"Damn it all."

Lexa takes a slow step forward, stopping a few centimeters from the desired goal. She expects to be pushed away or hit, but nothing happens. The heart speeds up its rhythm, quickly pumping the blood through the veins. Close warm breath makes Clarke exhale sharply, and this is the last straw. The remaining distance is shortened and soft lips touch each other in a gentle, almost elusive kiss.

“An apology or a thank you?” Clarke whispers a few seconds after, resting her forehead on Lexa’s, both are broadly smiling.

“A date,” the answer is a soft touch of lips.

Chapter Text

Was there any chance that Lexa would not come to Clarke the next morning after she had barely shoved her out of her apartment?

"Not a single one."

Feet jump across the metal steps, and a hand holds tightly a crispy paper bag with fresh croissants from the cafe around the corner. Lexa runs onto the landing in front of the door with light speed and knocks loudly, attracting the attention of the beautiful owner.

“Clarke, it’s Lexa,” she screams when she hears quiet approaching footsteps.

The whole morning since she woke up until that very moment a broad smile hasn’t left her lips, and cheeks are already aching from tension.

There is a soft click, and Lexa turns into a puddle at the sight in front of her. Clarke is standing with her hair sticking out in all directions, hugging herself with both hands and shifting from one bare foot to another, trying to keep her limbs warm on the cold floor.

“Tell me the apocalypse is two blocks away, because this is the only reason I would allow to wake me up this early on Saturday,” she grumbles in a raspy voice, mockingly lifting a corner of her lips as usually.

Lexa doesn’t comment on this. She takes a quick step forward, grabs Clarke under the hips and brings her into the apartment, trying not to drop the bag with their breakfast. The blonde girl squeals shortly in surprise before she is shut up with a ravenous kiss.

Lexa lowers Clarke slowly on the floor without separating their lips and pushes her toward the nearest wall to find support, because her legs start trembling with an overflow of emotions. She hugs the girl by her waist with one hand, pulling her even closer, and outstretches the other one to lean on the wall, not letting Clarke’s back touch the cold surface.

The kiss slows down, and Lexa pulls away slightly to look at the shocked face in front of her. Clarke stands with her mouth open and eyes closed, trying to digest the past few seconds.

“Wow...” she says quietly, opening her eyes and looking straight through the girl’s chest in front of her. “Buddy wakes me up just like this in the morning. I’ve told you you have much in common.”

Lexa frowns and takes a step backwards, folding her arms over the chest.

“You’ve just ruined the moment,” she shakes her head and puts the bag with croissants on the nearest drawer.

“I can fix that,” Clarke bites her lip and reaches forward to find Lexa and pull her by the hem of her shirt, wrapping arms around the girl’s neck.

She kisses so fiercely that Lexa involuntarily lets out a muffled moan which vibrates through their bodies. Clarke turns them around without breaking the kiss, pushing Lexa forward so that her back hits the wall knocking the air out of her lungs.

“Buddy, close your eyes. Adult content on air,” someone’s voice sounds near the door, and the two girls jump from each other. The back of Lexa’s head hits the hard surface of the wall, and Clarke barely keeps her balance, taking a big step back. “You should have closed the door,” Raven steps over the threshold and walks past two stunned girls into the living room.

The door is really wide open, allowing all the curious passers-by to look inside, even if there are no people rushing along the street.

Buddy ambles to his owner, nuzzles into her hands, and leans on her legs with his whole body.

“Lexa, you need to see a doctor,” Clarke says with a serious, almost worried look, which makes Lexa tense a little. “Your nose is cold and wet,” a devilish grin appears on her face.

“Oh, stop already,” the girl rolls her eyes and comes closer to the retriever, squatting and sinking her fingers into the warm soft fur.

Clarke lays one hand on Buddy’s head, he can’t stop wagging his tail from so much attention. She strokes his neck, not-so-occasionally touching Lexa's palm from time to time.

“Okay, the family is back together, I need to go,” Raven appears from nowhere and mumbles with her mouth full.

She rushes to the front door with a paper bag in one hand and a croissant in the other, spreading mouth-watering smell of fresh pastries in the air.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” the girl waves them with the bun and races out of the apartment.

Clarke inhales deeply.

“That was my breakfast, right?”

“That was OUR breakfast.”

---

“I’ve brought the candles. What do you need them for?” Lexa looks at Clarke in bewilderment.

The blonde is heading to the kitchen, after she let her in.

Sunday evening brings fresh breeze into the apartment, blowing through an open window into the darkening room. Delicious smell of food is hanging in the air, mingling with hints of something sweet and a pine odour.

Lexa walks up to Clarke standing at the countertop and hugs her from behind, wrapping arms around her waist and nuzzling into the blonde mop of hair.

“They’re not for me. They are for you,” the girl purrs, leaning back into Lexa’s arms.

“I dread to imagine why,” Lexa pulls back slightly and raises an eyebrow in surprise.

“Lexa, you’re such a dummy,” Clarke sighs, turning to face the girl and staring somewhere at her lips, which makes Lexa swallow involuntarily. “I’ve invited you on a date. But you are so down-to-earth that I have no idea what to do with this.”

“You’ve invited me, I quote, ‘to join you for dinner’,” Lexa bites her lower lip, trying to hold back the laughter.

“I didn’t want to spook you,” Clarke whispers in response, sliding her hand from Lexa’s elbow up to the shoulder and stopping on the neck, creating goosebumps all over the girl’s body. “And, unlike you, I have the courage to admit that this is not... just... a dinner.”

She leans forward, running her nose over Lexa’s soft cheek and leaving a tender kiss in the corner of her lips. Lexa closes her eyes, opening mouth slightly and burning the silk skin in front of her with heated breath. Everything is boiling inside in excitement and anticipation of something more. She leans to the desired lips and is about to touch them when a loud bark nearby shatters the air. Lexa bends forward sharply and smashes her forehead against Clarke's, instantly clutching at the bruised place.

“God,” Clarke hisses, rubbing at the red spor. “Kissing you is life-threatening.”

“Buddy is the one to blame,” Lexa glances menacingly at the dog sitting next to her.

“Don't blame the innocent animal, Lexa.”

“Fine,” she shrugs simply, “you can kiss him instead then,” she heads into the living room, taking out candles from her bag and slyly glancing at the girl frozen next to the kitchen table.

Clarke purses her lips, leans forward slightly, and whispers, pretending being serious.

“Bad dog! Very very bad dog!” she waves her index finger in front of Buddy’s nose. He stares at her quizzically, tilting his head to the side. Clarke straightens and reaches for packages on the countertop with a pleased smile on her face. “I hope you're not against pasta?” she shouts to the girl setting the candles around the room.

Lexa freezes for a moment.

“You cook?”

“Umm... Sorry, I could only manage with a fruit salad with mango, peaches and yogurt,” Clarke takes the small boxes and walks slowly toward the sofa in the living room. “Pasta is from our cafe. You’ve liked it there, right?”

“Our cafe... Ok, Lexa, time to admit you’ve fallen in love."

“Our cafe?” she lets a small part of her thoughts slip anyway, which creates a foolish smile on her lips.

“Yes, the one around the corner,” Clarke doesn’t seem to notice what has caught the girl’s attention so quickly.

The candle in Lexa’s hand stays unlit, because the desire to come closer is irresistible.

“Buddy, sit,” Lexa throws, before imprinting her whole body into Clarke.

---

The car is filled with muffled sounds of music from the radio, while Lexa is carefully driving the vehicle, moving from one traffic jam to another and listening to Clarke humming quietly. She has stuck her face out of the open window and is singing along with familiar songs.

It has been a couple of weeks since Raven refused outright to take Buddy for the first time for their date, because they have been meeting literally every day. This time Lexa managed to persuade the girl, pulling out her main bargaining chip: Clarke.

“Have you tortured her?” Clarke suddenly turns to the driver and frowns.

“No.”

“Threatened?” she doesn’t give up.

“No.”

“Have you promised her to change my apartment interior?”

“Nope,” Lexa smiles slightly.

Clarke sighs loudly.

“Tortured then,” she turns back to the window.
Lexa laughs softly, but her smile falls when she remembers the recent conversation with Raven, who was trying her best to dissuade her from the idea that had come into her clouded head long time ago. But in the end, she agreed to take the dog for one evening and wished good luck, saying ‘I hope at least you succeed’.

This phrase has reinforced Lexa’s fear that Clarke would not react positively to her suggestion. That’s why she said it would be another surprise and closed the passenger door after the girl, driving her through loud streets.

“So where are we going?” Clarke is constantly trying to figure out the purpose of their trip. She hasn’t achieved success yet, but doesn’t stop her attempts.

Lexa takes a deep breath. There are about twenty minutes left to the right place, and she doesn’t want to hide the truth anymore. Moreover, the girl should be prepared. Lexa licks her lips nervously, clutching at the steering wheel, and fidgets on her sit.

“Promise to hear me out,” Lexa slows down not to drive into any poor pedestrian in her anxious state.

“Lexa, you’re freaking me out. Have you really done something to Raven?” Clarke turns to face her with a sly grin.

Lexa swallows a lump in her throat and decides to go head-on.

“I’ve made an appointment for you with a doctor.”

Clarke's smile fades from her face immediately, the chin lifts slightly, and for the first time her motionless blue eyes are chillingly cold. She presses her lips together and gropes for a button on the door, closing the window.

“Listen,” Lexa tries to speak as softly and calmly as she can, “I know how hard that is for you...”

“You have no idea how hard it is,” Clarke's voice is just as cold as her eyes. She doesn’t scream or open the door, trying to get out of the moving car. She is just sitting still and clenching her teeth. “And I don't want you to ever know.”

“Clarke, please...”

“Stop the car.”

“If there is a chance that…”

“Stop the car!” all the anger and resentment accumulated inside the blonde girl burst out with the force of nuclear explosion.

Lexa shudders from the fury in her beloved voice and tries hard to control herself. She stops the car at the sidewalk on some unfamiliar dark street and doesn’t utter a word. Clarke is staring blankly into the windscreen.

“Every time I was going to see a doctor, they convinced me that I shouldn’t give up,” her voice is quiet again, it starts trembling. “Every damn time they gave me hope,” a gnashing of teeth. “And every damn time they took it away from me,” hand clutches at the door, making her fingers turn white with pressure. “And you know what?” she suddenly turns to numb Lexa, who sees almost nothing because of the veil of tears. “Sometimes I think I should have better died... Because, believe me, it’s even more painful than losing a loved one.”

A loud, bone-crushing silence hangs in the air for a few seconds. Lexa is looking right in front of her with glassy eyes, feeling an upcoming wave of cramping.

“Sorry, Lexa,” a whisper sounds nearby. “I'm sorry, I...” a ragged breath mixes with sobs.

But Lexa does not answer, she sees and hears nothing as frantic beats of her heart are tearing the eardrums apart.
A few seconds later a muffled sound of a slamming door reaches her ears. It somehow reminds her of the sound when her sister's body hit the bumper of a car and flew a couple of meters to the side.
Trails of blood flicker in front of her eyes. They are running slowly down the pale skin, dripping on cold asphalt, and gathering in a puddle that doesn’t stop growing. Wet strands of usually loose hair stick to cooling cheeks, covering a half of the face...

A bright flash of light suddenly returns Lexa to the reality. A car blinds the girl and immediately stuns her with loud music screaming from the speakers.

“CLARKE!”

Lexa pulls at the door handle in a panic and falls out of the car, still not fully recovered from her recent state. She looks around, pressing both hands against the temples to remove the fog in front of her eyes. The blonde is nowhere to be seen. The half-lit street is empty. There is only a couple of parked cars and several black garbage bags lying around.

"No. Please, no."

She starts running in a random direction, occasionally tripping over beer cans scattered on the sidewalk. Eyes are flying from one backstreet to another.
Trash can.
Brick wall.
A hobo who relieves himself on it.
Wire fence.
Two guys and a girl.

Lexa almost falls, stopping dead in her tracks. The white cane lies under her feet. One apparently drunk bouncer presses Clarke’s throat against the wall with his elbow, covering her mouth with a palm. The other equally drunk one holds her wrists with one hand and reaches under the girl’s shirt with the other, causing her desperate attempts to scream.

The bumper dose of adrenaline is ejected into the bloodstream, making all the muscles literally rip her flash from tension. Lexa rushes forward, leaning down for a second to pick up the stick, and raises a cry as loud as she is only can. It makes the two men turn around in fright. She swings the cane at the one who holds Clarke’s hands, crushing it against the back of his head, and jumps on the second one, knocking him down along with the blind girl. Lexa straddles the fallen bouncer and thumps him severely in his face without stopping for a single second and not paying any attention to her smashed-up knuckles that have already turned into a bloody mess.

A strong hit in the back knocks air out of her lungs and sends her body straight onto the chest of the barely breathing man. Lexa doesn’t have time to recover when she feels a second, even stronger kick to the side, which makes her fall from her former place on the ground. An involuntary stifled scream escapes from her mouth as unbearable pain pierces through the chest.
Breathing is becoming more and more difficult, and black dots start dancing in front of her eyes. But Lexa is still trying to get up when she receives the last blow straight to her temple.

Chapter Text

"It's your fault".

“Clarke...” comes out of her dry lips when something warm touches the cheek.

Lexa is slowly regaining her consciousness. Muscles are aching from the kicks she got, but she doesn’t feel hard cold concrete under her body, doesn’t feel the stench from the garbage decaying under the sun. The girl opens one eye, being in mortal dread to see a dirty brick wall and empty bottles lying on the ground. Instead, she is blinded by unnaturally sterile whiteness of the ceiling which burns colorful patterns on the retina. It takes Lexa a few seconds to get used to the light and look around.

“Clarke.”

She jerks when sees puffy blue eyes anxiously staring at the wall. Clarke is sitting on a chair next to her bed, clutching her palm with one hand and touching her cheek with the other. There is a white cane broken in two pieces and lying on a table not far from them.

When Clarke feels the girl move in front of her, she sobs loudly and jumps quickly from the chair, pushing it abruptly to the floor and leaning forward.

“Tell me you woke up,” a ragged whisper. “Please,” she begins to cry quietly, and judging by her face, it is not for the first time in the last couple of hours.

Lexa sighs loudly, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Looks like I’ve broken your cane,” she manages in a hoarse voice, trying to create a faint smile on her face.

Clarke laughs through sobs, nuzzles into the stomach of the lying girl, and sniffs loudly.

“Who looks like Buddy now, huh?” Lexa receives a light slap at her leg.

She raises her hand and lowers it on the blonde head. It is only now when the girl looks around to examine the room where she lies. Morning light breaks through half-open french blinds, drawing stripes on the floor. Dust particles are flying in random directions, flickering in these bright beams, just like then in her apartment. There is a tart smell of medicine and a cloy male cologne. There is another another chair near the place where Clarke was just sitting, it is standing a little further from the bed.

"Hospital."

“Are you okay?” Lexa whispers.

“Lexa, you're the one lying on a hospital bed all beaten, not me,” Clarke straightens up and sits on the edge of the bed.

“How…?” the girl tries to get up and immediately feels sharp pain piercing through her chest. She hisses and tries to take a deep breath when winces from another prick in the ribs.

“Shhh, try not to move a lot,” Clarke grabs her hand again. “You have a concussion, and one of the ribs is broken.”

“I can guess,” Lexa grits her teeth to calm the pain at least a little, her breathing often and shallow. “How have you...” she doesn’t have time to finish, because the door to the ward is wide open, and a tall young man with curly, almost black hair enters the room.

Lexa stares at him confused when he comes closer with two cups of coffee in his hands and, seeing her awake, smiles joyfully.

“Clarke, it looks like your friend has finally woken up,” he lays his hand on the shoulder of the blind girl. “I'm Bellamy,” he reaches for Lexa’s hand which is lying in Clarke’s palm, grabs it and squeezes lightly.

“Nice to meet you,” Lexa answers quietly, frowning at the visit of an unknown guest.

“Bellamy saved us,” Clarke’s husky voice sounds nearby, and she turns her gaze back at her.

Lexa sees some kind of confusion in the blue eyes and, interrupting the handshake, lays her hand on the hip of the girl sitting next to her.

“I live there,” the guy scratches the back of his head shyly. “And you scream very loudly,” he smiles at Lexa. “I saw you from the window, called the police, and hit the head of the guy who knocked you out. You had taken care of the second one even before I managed to reach you.”

“Is he... alive?”

“Oh, yeah, he is,” Bellamy shrugs. “You’ve knocked out a couple of his teeth and put quite a vulgar makeup on the eyes, but in general he’s alive and well.”

Clarke laughs softly at his words, touching the bandaged knuckles of the hand resting on her leg, and swallows.

“Bellamy stayed here overnight,” she strokes her thumb gently over the white fabric.

“Yep,” the guy reaches for the girl’s palm, takes it into his own and puts a cup of coffee in it, making Lexa frown at the action of stealing the warmth from her in such an impudent manner. “I couldn't have left such a beautiful girl in trouble,” he touches Clarke's shoulder, staring down at her head, and Lexa clenches her teeth involuntarily. “And since your friend fought so fiercely for you, then I definitely can’t miss my chance,” Bellamy smiles broadly again.

"Friend."

Clarke says nothing, her head down, and it makes everything twist inside. It becomes harder to breathe again.

“Thank you,” is all Lexa is able to mutter, feeling a dull pain in her chest.

“Glad to help,” the guy grins. “Well... I'm afraid I have to leave you,” he squats in front of Clarke, taking her palms which are clutching the cup in his own. “If you need anything, you have my number. I'll call you.”

Lexa exhales sharply and turns her head towards the wall, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes where tears start to build up from the pain caused by the broken rib. Of course that’s the reason.

"It's your fault."

“Yes, thank you,” sounds softly next to her, and she feels a warm palm on her hand again.

Judging by the sound of the door slamming, Bellamy has left the room, and a ringing silence hangs over them. Lexa tries her best to calm the storm raging in her chest and breathes faster, trying not to let out a tear which is about to slide down her cheek.

“You haven’t answered if you are okay,” she says in an even, unemotional voice and turns her head back to Clarke.

“Yes,” the girl whispers. “Yes, I'm fine,” her voice is a little louder.

Lexa nods silently and intervenes their fingers, gently squeezing a warm palm in hers.

“He doesn't have that chance,” Clarke purses her lips. “Sorry, I’m just…”

Lexa shakes her head, freeing her hand and lifting it to the face of the girl, who leans to her palm the second it lies on her cheek.

“Clarke,” her soft voice flies through the room. “It’s okay. I... ” Lexa swallows, because the words she so wants to say out loud has almost slipped out of her lips, but certainly not in the hospital ward, “... I’ll have to stick to you like a limpet now for I’ve broken your cane,” she smiles.

“It’s Bellamy,” Clarke grins. “He broke it against the back of the asshole who attacked you,” she covers Lexa's hand with hers. “He told me so at least. But I don’t mind if you ‘stick to me like a limpet’,” the girl kisses her hand and lays it onto her lap.

“What a pity, I’ve tried so hard to break it against that bastard’s head,” Lexa intervenes their fingers and looks down. “I'm sorry I drove you to a doctor without discussing this first,” her other hand clenches into a fist, “and that I’ve failed to protect you.”

"It's your fault."

“Don't you dare, Lexa,” Clarke says menacingly, frowning and exhaling loudly. “Don't you dare blame yourself! I am the one who got out of the car, I am the one who ran into those idiots, and I am the reason you can barely breathe now!” she speaks louder and louder and then turns her head away, but Lexa still notices the sparkling paths on her cheeks.

“Yeah, you take my breath away,” the girl smiles playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Clarke grins through tears and gets up.

“I’ll call a doctor,” she slowly heads toward the door, groping for it on the wall, which makes Lexa desperately want to get up and help her. “Stay right there,” Clarke turns to her with a sly grin on her face. Lexa rolls her eyes.

---

A couple of days later when Lexa is released from the hospital, Bellamy who’s constantly messing around Clarke brings them to Lexa’s house, driving her also to work so that she could pick up some documents and do important things remotely.

Lexa doesn’t stop holding Clarke's hand as they enter the first floor hall of a skyscraper. She feels the presence of the fifth wheel with the back of her head. He is now carrying a bag with her belongings and constantly throwing jokes in an attempt to attract a certain blonde who tries to laugh it off with rare phrases.

Jealousy stabs at her heart, but she trusts Clarke. She trusts her with all her self and doesn't want to let the soul-destroying feeling take over. Moreover, this guy has saved both Clarke and herself, which convinces her not to attack him right then and there. Sometimes, however, Lexa is surprised that he doesn’t see how gently and tenderly she treats her ‘friend’.

“Is there a possibility that Clarke doesn’t notice it either? Am I doing something wrong?” Lexa wards off the thought, shaking her head and taking care of the girl when they enter the elevator. She presses a button, and the iron box starts rising quietly and stops a minute later, letting them know they have reached the right floor with a quiet ring.

“Let me guess,” Clarke follows Lexa to her apartment door. “Do you live in a penthouse?”

“No,” the girl rolls her eyes. “But there are a couple of floors up to one,” she grins and lets go off Clarke's hand to find the keys.

She goes inside, kicking off her shoes and turning to the visitors. Bellamy has already grabbed the palm of the smiling blind girl and guided her into the apartment. Lexa looks down dejectedly, swallowing a lump in her throat and licking the lips nervously.

“Thanks for the help, Bellamy,” she nods him with gratitude. “Coffee?”

“Yes, with pleasure,” the guy puts her bag on the floor and lays his hand on Clarke’s shoulder. “Clarke, want to join?” he rubs at her back, and Lexa barely holds herself back from breaking a long coat stand against his neck.

“Only if Lexa promises not to poison you,” a husky voice makes the girl calm down a little and grin.

“I can't promise that,” she stares up at the laughing blue eyes.

“Why would she poison me?” Bellamy raises an eyebrow in confusion and comes closer to Lexa. “I've almost saved her life,” he squeezes her shoulder, pressing it slightly against his chest, which makes her hiss in pain. “Sorry,” the guy springs back in an instant.

Clarke takes a step forward automatically, not caring if there is any obstacle on her way, and Lexa looks up at her worried face.

“Give me 5 minutes to get changed,” she says with a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Need some help?”

“Don't bite your lip. Don’t bite... Shit.”

Lexa takes a quick step forward, grabs Clarke’s hand, and pulls her towards the bedroom.

“Bellamy, make yourself comfortable,” she shouts to the dumbfounded guy and slams the door behind them.

Lexa slowly turns to the girl who is now standing silently behind her without letting go of her hand. She licks her lips again as Clarke reaches for her stomach, and her fingertips find the buttons on her plaid shirt.

“Do you really need help with a button-down?” a quiet whisper is heard closer to Lexa who has closed her eyes.

Fingers weightlessly slide upwards and stop at the collar, trying not to put any pressure on the chest.

“No, but I need you,” she is afraid to move, but opens her eyes, immediately lowering her gaze at the lips stretched in a wide smile.

“You should work on your pick-up lines,” Clarke leans forward to leave a soft kiss on her cheek.

This small gesture forces Lexa to take a deep breath, which immediately turns into a sharp pain in her chest making her moan.

“I'm afraid we'll have to wait with this a little,” Clarke pulls back and purses her lips, trying to hide the disappointment.

---

They had to talk only on the phone for several weeks, and there were a couple of reasons for that. First, Lexa simply couldn't control herself when Clarke was somewhere nearby, and that always led to small disasters. Moreover, the doctor has strongly recommended her to stay at home and avoid any sudden movements. Secondly, and that was perhaps the main reason, Raven was tired of driving Clarke back and forth and taking the dog who had already managed to create himself a comfy place in the back of her new car.

♫ Dancing on my own - Calum Scott ♫

Today is the day when Lexa planned to surprise the girl without warning her about her visit. Sunny dapples are jumping in all directions, reflecting from the mirror surface of the puddles remained after the rain, and the air brought by the thunderstorm smells fresh.

Lexa is clutching gently at a small bouquet of wildflowers which emit, as it seemed to her, the most pleasant odour in the entire shop. A smile blossoms on her face at the sight of small blue petals reminiscent of the girl’s eyes she is striving to see with all her heart now. There is a white folded cane in her second hand. She bought it a week ago and wrapped childishly in gift paper.

Legs seem to have automatically carried Lexa to the right house. When she turns around the corner, a familiar, loud laugh coming from above makes her look up. Clarke is standing near the door, holding an impressive bouquet of white roses in her hands, and smiling broadly at Bellamy. The guy has turned his back to Lexa, actively waving with one hand, most likely telling another funny story, and holding a white cane, just like the one Lexa clenches in her fist.

She lowers her eyes on her tiny bouquet, swallows a lump forming in the throat, and looks up at her beloved face again.

“He makes her laugh.”

Lexa smiles faintly, lifting a corner of her mouth and hearing her favorite laugh again. She blinks at the veil of tears covering her eyes. Clarke starts tinkering with the door, and Bellamy grabs her hand to help put the key in the lock.

“He will take care of her better than you do.”

A corroding fever in her chest and a heart beating against aching ribs make Lexa squeeze her eyes shut. She dejectedly lowers her head for a moment and raises her gaze when hears a slam. There is only an empty metal ledge and a closed door appearing in front of her eyes. Lexa slowly approaches the stairs, puts the cane on the cold metal, and looks at the small bouquet in her trembling hands again. Disobedient fingers leave it next to the folded stick, and her eyes fly up towards the door.

“I love you,” a barely audible whisper doesn’t reach the person it is meant for.

She turns around, and her teetering legs carry her further down the city streets.

Chapter Text

It’s a thousandth time when a loud bell tears Lexa’s attention from the documents laid out on a desk. White, scratchy surface of paper blinds her reflecting the light of the lamp. Ice cubes floating in amber liquid, casting chaotic flecks onto the lacquered wooden table.

Lexa grips a pen tightly with her fingers, nervously clicking a button and continuously tapping on the hard surface. The other hand reaches for the screeching phone, and tired eyes peer at the beloved name on the screen.

Three days has passed since she last saw Clarke. The girl has called her 99 times exactly, and this number has just rounded up to a hundred of unanswered attempts, apart from a bunch of messages that have also been ignored. Lexa hasn’t read any of them and threw herself back into work, just like after her sister’s death. That same protective mechanism inside has started functioning again, and she, slowly but surely, returned to the life of an emotionless and ambitious office worker.

Nevertheless, the image of a laughing blonde girl doesn’t leave her mind, no matter how hard she’s trying to replace it with endless numbers and graphs flying in front of her eyes.

Cold fingers mute the phone and turn the screen down. Lexa stretches on her chair, feeling dull pain in the muscles of the back and unpleasant pressure in the chest area which is still tightened with a bandage. She closes her eyes for a few seconds to let her raging heart calm down and return the stream of her thoughts into the direction she needs.

Night darkness spreads outside the window which offers a wonderful view over the city. The air is permeated with the rays of street lamps and the light from the windows of people suffering from insomnia. The clock on the wall shows 00:07, and Lexa knows that if she doesn’t let her brain sink into work completely, she will not be able to fall asleep either.

The silence of the room is broken by a deafening bell again. But this time it rings somewhere near the front door, and the girl frowns in surprise at an uninvited guest, who decided to disturb her in the middle of the night. She decides to ignore it, pretending that no one is home, but violent thuds after the bell make Lexa rise from her chair and head towards the camera which is aimed at the night guest.

“Raven?” Lexa stares at the image in bewilderment and reaches for the doorknob.

As soon as the door is opened, a dog flies inside, wagging its tail in all directions, and then the enraged girl enters the apartment. She presses Lexa to the wall in an instant, without saying a word. Raven looks into her eye, and she is not trying to fight, just lifting her chin slightly, staring back with an unemotional look.

“I'm glad you're alive,” the girl hisses through her gritted teeth and takes a step back.

Lexa is about to say something when Raven raises her hand and clenches it into a fist, making it clear that she is the one to speak now.

“I have no idea what happened that you’ve disappeared so suddenly,” she lets out a tired breath, “but you should have at least explain her the reason, because it took me tremendous efforts to hold that idiot back from taking walk,” Raven goes further into the living room and plops down on sofa.

Lexa follows her, arms crossed.

“She likes Bellamy,” there is neither disappointment nor anger in her voice, it’s just a statement of fact.

“Don't make me throw you out of that window, Lexa,” Raven rises menacingly from her seat and approaches the girl who has just folded her arms behind her. “You act like a little child, just like her by the way. So please sort up the mess in your sandpit,” she starts rummaging in her pocket. “I’ve locked her in her apartment because she really wanted to visit you. Have I mentioned she’s barely able to stand on her feet?”

Lexa is still silently standing, trying to swallow the lump of anxiety formed in the throat. She looks away at a bare wall, trying to hide the emotions that are about to reflect on her face. Raven, meanwhile, throws a bunch of keys on a coffee table and heads to the door, stopping in front of Lexa again.

“You are in charge now,” she pulls at the handle when feels a gentle touch at her leg. “Ah, yeah, Buddy is on you now, too. Buddy, place,” she looks up, watching the dog run a few meters to Lexa and nuzzle into her stomach.

Raven smiles faintly and disappears behind the door, leaving the girl alone. Well...not so alone. Lexa stares at the soft golden fur that rests under her hand for a few seconds when an unrestrained tear rolls down her cheek.

“What shall I do, Buddy?” she staggers to the sofa and sinks down slowly, feeling the dog lay its head on her knee. “If we really have so much in common, could you probably give me some advice, huh?” Lexa scratches the retriever behind the ear, and Buddy whines plaintively. “Oh, no, don’t cry, there’s enough of my snot here,” the girl grins through tears.

---

Buddy is clinging to her leg when she is standing in front of the familiar door in a completely dark street and playing with the keys in her hand. Lexa takes a deep breath and unlocks the door, pressing on the handle and pushing it. But the door doesn’t give in. The girl tries harder, meeting strange resistance from the inside. She pushes again, this time sharply, and hears a thud and a muffled moan. A little more effort, and the gap becomes large enough for the dog to slip in, and Lexa enters after him.

The room is dark and quiet, there’s a distinct smell of alcohol in the air. She turns on the light, and her gaze falls down on the silhouette of a girl sitting at the door. Clarke is half-lying on the floor and leaning against the hard wooden surface, her head thrown back. Buddy fumbles around, licking her pale face.

“Oh, Buddy, you are here,” she smiles broadly, barely stuttering the words. “Raven brought you back,” the blonde girl throws both hands into the fur on the dog’s neck. “Raven, don't... don't you do this anymore,” she raises her index finger menacingly.

Lexa looks down at her, and incredible warmth rises to the heart, mingling with the bitterness in the mouth. She is afraid of her desire to hug, kiss, protect, because soon she will have to forget it and retreat.

“Where the hell is Bellamy when she needs help?” the thought suddenly makes her frown, but she will think about it later. She needs her help now.

Lexa pushes the dog to the side, standing directly above Clarke, and grabs her under the armpits, lifting the girl who continues leaning back against the door. She takes a step forward so that Clarke doesn’t slip back down, propping her up with her own body. The girl begins to mumble something and sniff.

“Raven,” a soft whisper reaches the ear, “you smell like Lexa,” Lexa swallows and pulls back a little to look into motionless blue eyes. “Have you seen her?” Clarke squints a little and starts smiling again. “Have you told her that I am sorry... so, so sorry... for being blind?” her head throws back again with a thud. “If you see her again, tell her that I’m... sorry... for that. Okay?” Clarke tries to straighten up, but she doesn’t succeed and falls forward into the arms of dumbfounded Lexa.

The girl hugs her tightly so that she doesn’t crash onto the floor, and slowly moves backwards to the bedroom. Clarke starts stirring in her arms, trying to move her legs.

“Raven, will you tell her?” she nuzzles into the neck of Lexa who is about to start crying.

“I will,” the girl whispers in response, and Clarke raises her head immediately, squeezing her eyes shut.

She opens her eyes again, trying to see anything in blankness in front of her, and then the same stupid smile stretches on her lips.

“You even whisper like her,” Clarke puts her head on the shoulder of Lexa who has already dragged her to the bed, hissing from a dull pain in her chest from time to time. “She seems to be contagious,” she can feel that Clarke is smiling.

Lexa places her on the bed, never breaking an embrace, steps back a little to look into her favorite blue eyes again, and leaves a featherlight kiss on her forehead.

“And if she is contagious, then it should work out for me, too,” Clarke makes a serious face and tries to mimic Lexa, which makes the girl smile for the first time in the last few days. “Stop staring, it's impolite,” she frowns playfully and lifts her chin.

Lexa raises her eyebrows a little offended and opens her mouth.

“She doesn’t sound like that,” she says in a louder voice, and Clarke pouts.

“That’s probably because I haven’t seen her for a long time,” she sighs dejectedly and falls back onto the bed. “I haven’t seen her for so, soooo... long,” Lexa sits down on the bed and stares at the tears that are starting to slide down the temples of the girl lying in front of her. “I haven’t seen her at all,” comes a soft whisper, which makes the girl close her eyes and breathe raggedly. “If that was a dream, then I seem to have lost my mind. Funny, huh? A shrink went crazy…” Clarke smiles, raising her hand to wipe away the tears. “I love her so much,” she sobs softly, and Lexa's hear loses a beat for a second, causing a slight dizziness in her head.

The girl suddenly turns on her side, facing Lexa, and gropes for her hand which is lying on a soft sheet. She practically stops moving after that, and her breathing becomes even and deep. Lexa lies down beside her, peering at the features of her beloved face through her tears and the darkness of the room. She brings her hand to the girl's cheek and removes a strand of blond hair. Her eyes glide over closed eyelids with hope that they are about to open, the blue eyes will look into hers and she will utter the same words in return. Seconds fly by, until she falls into a light sleep.

---

A quiet stirring nearby brings the girl back to reality after a morning nap. She is still lying on the bed, legs dangling on the edge and head turned to the side. Eyes start opening slowly, often blinking in an attempt to get used to the sunlight beaming from the window. Lexa glances around the room and her gaze stops on the figure next to a wardrobe.

Clarke is standing with her back to her, completely naked. She is pressing one palm to her temple, apparently trying to get rid of a headache, and rummaging in clothes, pulling them out of the closet.

Lexa rounds her eyes, covers her mouth with a palm, trying not to make a sound, and looks away at the ceiling. But she gives in after a short while, and her eyes dart to the girl who has already put on her underwear, which doesn’t diminish her frantic desire to touch the delicate skin, not in the slightest. She jerks her leg suddenly, which makes the boot knock on the wooden frame of the bed.

Clarke freezes on the spot.

“Buddy, speak,” a loud barking comes from the living room in response to her command.

The girl pulls on a stretched T-shirt and turns around slowly.

“Raven?” she asks with a hint of hope in her voice, swallowing visibly.

Lexa is lying motionless on the bed for several seconds, sorting out all the possible flight options in her head. She clears her throat.

“No, it's me,” she manages quietly.

Clarke seems to have stopped breathing. She clutches at the hem of her shirt, trying to lower it down a little to cover the lower body at least slightly.

“How have you...” the girl swallows again. “You’ve disappeared for a long time,” a weak, hoarse voice flies through the room, and she presses her lips together. “Could we talk after I wash and get changed?”

“Yeah, yes, of course,” Lexa sits on the bed, nervously clutching the sheet with her fingers. “I'll make us breakfast.”

Clarke nods briefly and stumbles toward the bathroom, leaving the girl all alone. Lexa stands up, stretching her aching muscles after an uncomfortable sleep position, and heads to the kitchen.

She reaches for the cupboard door to grab coffee when her gaze falls on a small yellow mug standing on the windowsill. Her attracts not the mug itself, but what’s in there. Tiny blue petals of wildflowers look even brighter in the morning sunlight. Pieces of brown paper are lying next to the mug, and a white cane stands unfolded at the windowsill.

Lexa covers her mouth and shakes her head, trying to hold back the tears covering her eyes. She comes closer to the window and leans over to breathe in the scent of flowers.

"My bouquet."

A wide smile spreads on her face, and a sigh of joy bursts from her lips.

A sudden knock on the door makes her turn around, and it opens quietly. Bellamy appears at the threshold with a paper bag in his hand.

“It was opened, so...” he doesn’t have a chance to finish, because Lexa jumps to the surprised guy with a speed of a bullet, imprinting him into the wall and pressing an elbow to his throat.

He is much larger and stronger than her, but this doesn't stop the girl from hissing into his face.

“Why have you left her alone?” Lexa pronounces every word sharply, pressing Bellamy harder against the wall.

“Because she asked me to and said she loved you,” he copied her, highlighting every word and raising his hand to remove her elbow from the throat. “I might be even blinder than Clarke, but I’m not such an asshole as you think, Lexa,” the guy frees himself from her grip and heads toward the kitchen without turning around. “You should have just said that you are together, and not make a soap opera out of it.”

Lexa grits her teeth and follows him.

“What the hell are you doing here then?” she says in a calmer voice, lifting her chin and clasping her hands behind the back.

“Does the name Raven tell you something? She told me to bring you breakfast, otherwise she would have twisted my head off,” Bellamy shrugs, puts the paper bag on the table and takes three mugs out of the cupboard.

“Raven is sometimes even better at threatening than Lexa,” sounds a husky voice behind them, and they both turn to a softly smiling Clarke. “Well...” she rubs her shoulder in confusion, “Bellamy, Lexa and I need to talk, if you don't mind,” the girl lowers her head and heads toward the bedroom.

Lexa follows her and quietly closes the door. Clarke is standing near the bed, nervously fingering the edges of her shirt.

“I saw you and Bellamy,” Lexa breaks the silence, “when he gave you that impressive bouquet of roses...”

“I told him everything about us,” Clarke blurts out. “And Mrs. Pubbleton, my neighbor, has the bouquet now. She lives across the road, and Bellamy gave it to her when he left,” she licks her lips. “And then he returned and gave me flowers and a cane someone left on the stairs,” the girl breathes out loudly. “You’d brought them, right?” Clarke starts speaking faster and brushes a tear from her cheek. “They smell amazing, and I have two canes now. They can be tied into one and would definitely not brea…” she doesn’t have a chance to finish, because she is shut by soft lips.

Lexa carefully presses Clarke into her, resting one hand on her waist and playing with thin baby hair with the other one. She pulls back a few seconds later and looks into slowly opening blue eyes.

“Sorry...” Lexa whispers, laying her hand on the girl’s cheek. “I left because... I thought you liked Bellamy.”

“Thank God,” Clarke sighs with relief, making Lexa frown, because she understands the meaning of the words. “I mean...” the blonde chokes, making Lexa smile, “What I wanted to say is that your jealousy flatters me, but it's great everything is clear now,” she leans forward, resting her forehead on Lexa’s, and they both are smiling broadly.

There is a pleasant silence in the room which, together with the sun rays, covers them like a warm blanket on a cold winter evening.

“I might like Bellamy...” Clarke says quietly smiling and receives a light slap on her arm, “but I love you,” she leans forward again, leaving a soft kiss on Lexa’s lips.

Lexa is dumbfounded for a moment, just like that night, but she quickly wakes up and embraces the girl with such a strength that her own ribs crunch. She’s not paying any attention to now barely noticeable pain though.

“I love you,” she whispers in Clarke's ear, burying her nose in blonde hair.

Clarke pulls away quickly, lays both palms on her face, and kisses her desperately, not leaving her any time for a surprised sigh.

“Your coffee is ready!” sounds somewhere from behind the door, and they both laugh, breaking the kiss.

---

Lexa puts on her usual business expression and steps towards Bellamy who is standing with a mug of coffee, leaning against the wall in the living room. She clutches at Clarke's hand tightly and holds out the other palm to him, lifting her chin proudly.

“I'm sorry,” she says in an even voice. “But I’ll be watching you,” a hint of threat in her tone.

Bellamy smiles broadly and holds out his hand in response.

Chapter Text

A couple of months later.

“Stop it,” Raven rolls her eyes tiredly, lying on the couch in Clarke’s apartment, one leg dangling to the floor.

The blonde girl takes three steps forward, immediately turns around and repeats the movement in the opposite direction, nervously pursing her lips and crossing the arms over her chest. Buddy comfortably lying on the carpet near the coffee table is also watching his owner rushing back and forth, his head resting on the paws extended in front of him.

Raven reluctantly sits up and covers her face with palms.

“If you don’t, I won’t drive you anywhere,” she gets up from the sofa and goes towards the kitchen to make herself a mug of hot tea.

Clarke freezes on the spot, trying to gather her thoughts and giving in to the threat. She takes a deep breath and, extending her hand forward, goes towards the wall to find some support.

“Have you turned the heating up?” the girl clasps the hands in front of her .

“Seven,” is all she gets in response.

“Seven?”

“Yes, it’s the seventh time you are asking the same question.”

“I hope the forecast is correct, and the sky will be clear,” Clarke throws her head back, exhaling the words into the ceiling.

A quiet, almost shy knock on the door sounds through the apartment, and both girls raise their heads. One jumps away from the cold surface with a happy smile on her face, turns to the door and, smoothly sliding her fingers along the wall, goes closer to the sound source. The other looks at her friend, rolling her eyes at such a predictable reaction, and still can’t help smiling.

The door handle lowers under the palm, and cool autumn air flies into the room.

“Hi,” sounds a quiet voice of the girl excitedly fidgeting at the threshold.

Lexa nervously touches a woolen dark green scarf, which so nicely retains the heat in the wind streams tingling the open skin. Loose brown hair is scattered over the shoulders, and thin wavy locks are sticking out of the fleecy mop, flying along with random streams of air. Full, slightly chapped lips stretch into a soft smile when the gaze finds beloved blue eyes.

Clarke takes a step forward, touches a soft fabric of a strict gray coat with her fingertips, and pulls the girl by the collar, giving a subtle kiss on the corner of her lips.

“Glad to see you too, Lexa,” comes loudly from the living room, and the girls slowly move away from each other.

“Hello, Raven,” Lexa shouts back, embracing Clarke shortly and taking a step inside. “So... Where are we going today?” she watches their friend quickly put on her jacket and pull on the shoes, passing a coat to the blonde girl.

“If you ask me, I’m not going to turn her in,” Raven raises her eyebrows playfully and points at Clarke who is pursing her lips.

“You’ll see,” the girl shrugs, crouching to find her shoes.

Clarke straightens and reaches for a blue scarf hanging on a hook. She wraps it around the neck and is about to take a backpack and head to the door when she feels a soft touch on her temples. Lexa grabbed a blue beanie from the shelf and, trying not to hurt, pulls it on the blonde head of the girl who is now shyly smiling at her.

“Gross,” Raven already standing outside puts her hands in the jacket pockets and turns away, leaning on the iron railing.

---

The car slowly drives into a narrow gravel road. There are slender pine trees growing on the hills on the both sides of it. Bright orange glitters scattered on the trunks are flashing in the sun which already stopped bringing warmth with its light. Muffled clicks of tiny stones bouncing from rubber tires in all directions are heard in the interior of the vehicle. This sound softens gradually, and the road turns into two thin paths covered with a soft layer of fallen needles.

Lexa looks around surprised, sitting in the backseat with Clarke and clutching her palm.

Five minutes later, the wall of trees becomes thinner, and a small wooden house shows up in front of them, hidden from the highway and prying eyes behind the green forest dyke. The car squeals quietly and stops in front of the steps leading to a closed door.

“What are you waiting for?” Raven stopped the engine and turned to the girls who had quieted down.

Buddy who is sitting in the front seat like a member of the royal family gets up on all four legs, energetically wagging his tail, and touches the glass with his wet nose, whining pitifully and asking for help to get out of the iron box.

Lexa squeezes Clarke’s warm palm a little harder, gets out of the car, and opens the door for the suffering dog, which flies out immediately, running laps around the car and sniffing every inch of the house. She inhales the cool air, blissfully closing her eyes at the pleasant pine odor hanging around, and looks back at the blonde who is smiling joyfully, raising her head toward the tops of swaying pine trees.

“Raven, what time is it?” sounds her husky voice.

“18:00 or so.”

Raven opens the boot, pulling out bags and fishing keys out of her pocket. Lexa comes closer to grab a half of baggage from her hands and help bring it to the door.

“It's beautiful here,” she shouts to Clarke, entering the house after Raven.

“Believe me, you are here not to admire the house,” the girl turns around and playfully raises an eyebrow, which makes Lexa blush bright and quickly leave the cabin to find Clarke.

The blonde has squatted in the same place, exposing her face to the rays of the sun breaking through the pine crown and running her fingers through the golden fur of the dog leaning to her. Raven rips Lexa out of her bewitched state, leaving the house and handing her a big black thermos.

“You might need this,” she smiles softly. “By the way... thanks, you’ve done it,” the girl winks and heads to Clarke, leaving Lexa totally confused.

“What?”

“Rae, could you show Lexa how to find the bench?” the blonde stands up slowly without taking her hand off the dog.

“Look over there,” Raven points at a path snaking between the trunks and climbing a hill near the house. “You’ll need to climb this path up. There’s only one bench, and it’s hard not to find it,” Lexa nods briefly, still not understanding what is happening here. “Well... we should go I guess,” the girl heads to the car, opening the back door. “Buddy, place!”

The dog pulls away from Clarke’s hand and runs to Lexa, nuzzling into her stomach and making the girl smile widely.

“Of course,” Raven grumbles. “Here, Buddy!” she pats at her foot with a hand, and only after that the dog runs to the car, jumping into the seat.

“Has he just run to Lexa again?” Clarke frowns huffily. “I feel betrayed,” a hand rises theatrically to her heart.

“He loves me more than both of you. We're soulmates,” Lexa shrugs. “Right, Buddy?” she receives a loud barking in response.

“So you don’t deny this now?” the blind girl raises her eyebrows mockingly, lifting the edge of her lips.

“Okay, this can go on forever,” Raven sighs in exasperation, closes the door behind the dog, and walks to the driver's seat. “I'll pick you up tomorrow in the afternoon,” she shouts, and a couple of seconds later a sound of started engine breaks the silence of the forest.

Green eyes follow the retreating car until it disappears behind the green wall.

---

Lexa looks down, making sure that Clarke doesn’t trip over tree roots protruding from the ground. She squeezes her hand gently as they are trudging up the high hill which is already casting a shadow on the cabin shortly before twilight.

The slope of the path gradually becomes more gentle, and the wall of trunks seems to becomes thinner in front of them, letting more sunlight into the air. Just a couple of steps, and the view makes Lexa stop in her tracks. She clutches Clarke's hand harder and exhales sharply, releasing a small steam cloud from her mouth.

As far as far as the eye can see, the sky is pierced by chains of sharp mountain tops frozen in their ageless sleep. They cover the horizon with their black rows, throwing long gray shadows on the ground. The rays of the setting sun which manage to break through the peaks fall on the forest lying at the foot of the hill and burning with bright colors. Flames in the sky seem to reflect below on red and orange leaves of the trees, and the crowns are already beginning to disappear under the clouds of night fog.

Clarke is trying to stay motionless and silent not to frighten away a feeling rising in the chest of the girl standing next to her. She quietly inhales the air which is penetrated with mild frosty hints. A sweet smell of fallen maple leaves flies around, mingling with the resinous odor of pine needles.

Lexa slowly regains consciousness, noticing an old wooden bench at the very edge of the hill. It is covered with moss and blackened with time. She releases Clarke’s hand in order to approach her from behind, hugs her waist and puts the chin on the girl’s shoulder, touching the warm cheek with hers.

“Thank you,” another steam cloud leaves her lips and cools the delicate skin, making Clarke shiver slightly in Lexa's hands.

“Is it beautiful here?” a quiet whisper.

Lexa only nods in response, embracing the girl harder and trying to give her her warmth.

“I would... I’d also like to see this again,” a barely audible voice makes her grit her teeth. “And I want to try,” Clarke turns slowly to face her. “If there is a single chance that I could see what you see now, I want to use it,” the blue eyes sparkle in the rays of the setting sun.

“So the first thing you want to see is the view? Not my face?” Lexa raises her eyebrows playfully and grins, lifting the edge of her lips. The other girl shrugs and also starts smiling.

Lexa licks her lips nervously and digs a hand into a pocket, fishing out a slightly crumpled piece of thick paper. The girl touches Clarke’s cold hand and puts the letter into her palm, guiding Clarke's fingertips over the relief surface, which makes her involuntarily round her eyes in shock.

“Yeah,” Lexa grins, “I had to... learn a little,” she watches as the blind girl brushes silently over uneven paper.

Clarke flinches slightly as she reaches the end of the sentence, and opens her mouth to speak.

“I'll always be there for you,” Lexa whispers softly, repeating the words she so attentively put on the paper with a special state and stylus.

“Lexa,” the blind girl laughs through tears in her eyes, “there is so much computer stuff for that, you know?”

“Isn’t it much more romantic?” she shrugs, nuzzling into her cheek.

“You’ve learned the braille to be more romantic?!” Clarke grins, pulls Lexa by the collar, and immediately covers her lips without giving an opportunity to reply.

The kiss, at first tender, gradually turns into impatient and almost desperate.

“Take us home…”

---

Soft fabric, drenched in medicine, is being slowly pulled off the skin, enveloping it with cool air. Eyelashes start fluttering from an unusual sensation in the eyes. The daylight penetrates through the closed eyelids.

Hands lying on the sheet clench into fists, and fear scrapes against the heart with its claws, producing an unpleasant feeling in the stomach.

The gummed up eyelids tremble in an attempt to open the eyes.

Light.

A thin strip of light is imprinted on the retina, constricting the black pupil and making her blink.

This strip of light becomes wider, and shades of other colors wedge into perfect whiteness. There is a misty brown and a little pink blurred in the center.

“Blink again.”

The edges still remain foggy, but bright green eyes are now clearly visible right in front of her.

“Hi…”