#anya is two on speedial because the assumption is clarke is one

[kpforpresident]

Clexa #46 please

~out of envy or jealousy~

“Clarke, wait,” Lexa calls out desperately behind her, sighing in slight frustration as the mane of blonde hair whipped around the hallway of their apartment building. Fading footsteps pounded furiously up the slightly tilted stairs that lead to their cozy third story apartment. Keys rattled in the door, and then the resounding sound of that same door slamming echoed in the hallway. 

Lexa slumped against the very bottom stair, pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly. Letting her head fall back with a thump against the wallpapered hallway, she dug her phone out of her pocket with a weary hand and pressed two on her speed dial, waiting.  

“Hey, kid. What have you done now?” An amused voice blares out of the small speaker as Lexa presses the speakerphone mode and taps the phone against her forehead, holding up her head with a weary finger to her temple. 

She wiggles uncomfortably in her suit, undoing her jacket with one hand as she tries to sit without wrinkling it more. She had only worn this particular green one, slightly tight as it was, because she assumed that Clarke would be peeling it off her as soon as they had gotten home from the law school gala. Preferably with her teeth. Clearly, she muses as she looks up at their very shut front door, that was not happening tonight. She scrubs a tired hand over her face, remembering at the last moment that she had put on eye makeup tonight. Damn, double damn.

“Ahn, why do you assume that I am the one who has fucked up,” she snarls slightly, looking with betrayal at the phone. As if Anya can see her through the speaker, all the way out in sunny California. 

“Because,” the knowing voice on the other end of the line says, “you wouldn’t be calling me at-” a shuffle as Anya leans over to peer at her kitchen clock- “two am New York time if you hadn’t fucked up in some manner.” 

Lexa nods slightly. Then, remembering that Anya can’t see her, says quietly, “yeah, I mean you’re not wrong. The problem is, I don’t think I’ve done anything. But Clarke clearly thinks I have, and now I am locked out of my own apartment because she has the only set of keys we brought out!” 

A tinny laugh oozes out of the speaker and Lexa rolls her eyes as she smiles slightly, waiting for Anya to get her kicks. Then a crackly sigh pours out of the speaker, followed by the whoosh of what Lexa assumes is Anya’s fridge opening. The bubbly crack of a beer can follows as Lexa can hear Anya getting settled again. She can picture her, slinging herself onto her kitchen counter as she gets comfortable, long legs dangling off, beer in hand. 

“Ok, Lex. I’m ready. Hit me with whatever fuckery you’ve managed this time.” Lexa rolls her eyes for real this time as she wiggles out of her jacket fully, draping it carefully over a higher step as she toes off her favorite dress shoes. 

“I don’t know what happened, Ahn. The night was going well, we had been having fun. Clarke was wearing this insane midnight navy dress that I was honestly losing my mind over-”

“Ew, Lexa,” Anya interrupted, sounding horrified. “I’m really glad you've been sickeningly in love since you were like, eighteen, but I do not need to hear how badly you want to bone your girlfriend. Believe me, we all know it.” 

Lexa smiles for real as she conjures up a vision of Clarke’s dress- strapless and shimmering in the soft lights of the ballroom, clinging to her legs and generous curves as she moves and dances. Lexa had barely been able to keep her hands off Clarke, the liquid silk appearing as it had been simply painted on her girlfriend. Clarke had topped off the look with strappy black heels that made it so she was able to look Lexa squarely in the eyes as they danced. 

Lexa had had visions of those shoes in particular throughout the night, them falling into bed after, light off of expensive champagne and tiny plates of appetizers  supplied by Lexa’s law program to celebrate the end of their third year. Clarke wearing only those shoes, creamy alabaster legs wrapped around Lexa’s shoulders in their bed. 

Lexa shakes the image out of her head as Anya’s inquiring, exasperated “Hello, earth to Alexandria,” blares into her eardrum. 

“Sorry Anya, I’m here,” She says as a faint blush steals across the tops of her ears. “Anyway, everything had been going so well, we had been having fun. Clarke had sat for a little while because her feet were hurting, and Costia and I were dancing-”

“Wait, wait wait,” Anya cuts her off, sounding decidedly less amused. “You were dancing with Costia? Lexa, anyone with eyeballs and a pulse can see how badly that girl has it for you, she practically makes up excuses to come talk to you at your internship. You know it bugs the hell out of Clarke!” 

The friendship between Anya and Clarke wasn’t one that Lexa completely understood, as they teased the hell out of each other. But at some point over Lexa and Clarke’s six plus year relationship, Anya had become as protective of Clarke as she was of Lexa. 

“I know Anya,” Lexa growls back, wiggling down completely now to lay on the rickety wooden step. The accusing face of her watch reads 2:45 am. 

“But Clarke needed to sit, and Costia’s date Echo was off schmoozing up one of our law profs, and she asked and I felt like I couldn’t say no. It was one dance, Ahn! We talked about Clarke the entire time! We were talking about her latest exhibit!” 

“Does Clarke know that??” Anya demanded through the speaker, pitch of her voice stepping up incredulously.  Lexa’s arm that isn’t holding the phone shoots up into the air, gesturing in exasperation as she clamps the phone between her jaw and shoulder. 

“I didn’t have a chance, Anya! Clarke was so pissed after that dance that she barely said another word to me as we cabbed home, wouldn’t listen to me. Then she sprinted off in those damn heels and now I’m here, talking to you while my girlfriend fumes inside. What do I do?!” 

Silence. 

“You know what to do, Lex,” Anya’s unamused voice said. “Go up there, and fucking grovel. Tell her exactly what you told me. Relationships are based on trust and mutual love, but Clarke has communicated to you clearly that she’s uncomfortable with Costia, and you danced with her anyway. Your intentions were good but your execution needs a lot of work, little sister.” 

“Love you too, Ahn,” Lexa snarls, but there is no heat behind it. 

“Bye, Lexa. We’ll talk tomorrow?” 

Lexa murmurs an affirmative before hanging up, dropping her phone on her chest as she sits, thinking, for a long moment. She hoists herself up, tucking her phone into her back pocket as she grabs her shoes with her right hand, slighing her jacket over her left shoulder as she slowly walks up the meandering staircase. Before she can hesitantly knock on the door, it creaks open. 

Liquid blue eyes meet her apologetic gaze. Clarke’s face is scrubbed clean of makeup, the skin around her eyes slightly red. Golden curls tumble around her shoulders, the glamorous waves from the event falling slightly. She’s dressed in one of Lexa’s oversized Columbia sweaters, the sleeves rolled so that her hands are free, legs and feet bare. It’s Clarke’s go-to comfort item when she’s upset. It hurts something in Lexa’s chest to see how sad this made Clarke. Lexa drops her shoes again as she reaches for Clarke, instinctively wanting to comfort her. 

Clarke lets herself be folded into Lexa’s embrace, tucking her chin into Lexa’s shoulder. They stand in silence for a moment in the doorway. 

“I heard everything.” 

Lexa’s shoulders slump in silent relief. While she doesn’t exactly love that Clarke was listening to her phone call with her sister, if it has turned the angry lioness back into her pliant and loving girlfriend, she’s willing to let it slide. 

Clarke tugs her into the apartment, door closing behind them. After Lexa has changed, shedding her beautiful but impractical suit for a threadbare Artists Do It Better tie dye t-shirt that they had found while thrifting, they curl up in bed together. 

“I get jealous, Lex,” comes the quiet admission into her shirtfront as Clarke’s arms twine around her for comfort. Lexa stamps a loving kiss to her hairline, waiting for her to finish as she smooths an encouraging hand down her spine. Clarke props her chin up on Lexa’s sternum so they can lock eyes. 

“It’s hard for me to feel like I compare sometimes, with Costia being in your law program and your internship, and you’ll probably work at the same firm after graduation, and I know I’m good at what I do, but it’s just hard to feel like I fit into your world,” comes out in a shaky whisper as those heartbreakingly blue eyes fill with a ream of tears. 

Lexa grabs her tighter, rolling them so they are facing each other on their sides. 

“Clarke, you are it for me,” she states honestly as she smooths her tears away. “You are my world.” 

Clarke nods into her shirtfront. She doesn’t say anything for a moment before she lunges at an unsuspecting Lexa, their mouths clashing together. They kiss heavily for a moment, lips and teeth and tongue battling for dominance. Clarke eventually pulls away first, breathing heavily. Lexa’s eyes are still zeroed onto her lips, eyes dark and wanting. 

“What was that for?” she asks huskily, running a lustful hand over Clarke’s hip. 

“Because, you’re mine,” Clarke snarls back, somehow rolling them so she pins Lexa underneath her. She reaches behind her to pull the baggy sweatshirt over her head, preening slightly as Lexa’s eyes zero into her chest. 

“And I intend to show you that.”

#this somehow took on a life of its own #i just really love this little stupid mid twenties clexa #kiss prompt #clexa #thanks for asking anon #anya is two on speedial because the assumption is clarke is one #kpprompts #ny au