SHE(clexa)

Chapter 5: Part Five

It's early.

She's sure she hasn't slept nearly as many hours as she would have liked. She doesn't really feel like she's been asleep at all and she's not sure why she's awake now. She's glad she didn't drink much last night because she knows she could have felt way worse than she does. Her head feels a little fuzzy and her stomach is knotty with the need for food, but mostly she just feels really cold.

It's a little confusing because she was so warm when she fell asleep. She'd felt so soft and heavy with release. When she remembers why she felt those things, she also remembers where she is and realizes why she's cold. It's because the blankets aren't on them because they're smothering Clarke's hand instead. They pile over her arm where it presses against Lexa's back to keep her close. They must have gotten tangled up and discarded when Lexa turned over in her sleep.

Clarke shifts closer with her eyes closed and opens them when she suddenly feels Lexa's breaths against her face. They're practically squashed together and Clarke likes that Lexa's arms aren't held protectively between their bodies like usual. Her arm falls limply around Clarke's waist as her head tilts sleepily forward where it's not propped up by the fist that usually rests under her chin. The other arm folds across her stomach to clutch at the arm Clarke has wrapped around her.

They're so close that it's easy for Clarke to edge across the pillow and nudge her nose against Lexa's. Lexa barely stirs and lets out the softest, prettiest, sleepiest sigh. It causes a smile to break out across Clarke's face and she bites her bottom lip to stop herself from giggling. The sound leaves Lexa again when Clarke leans back in and squashes their noses together. It's gentle and delicate and it's so fucking endearing. Clarke untangles her hand from the blankets, lazily pulling them back over their bodies as a wave of protectiveness washes over her. She makes sure every bit of them is covered before she lets her hand disappear back underneath.

It's probably a little bold—and her touch is probably freezing—but she allows her hand to slip under Lexa's t-shirt and stroke the skin beneath. Her fingers make gentle patterns up Lexa's back and Clarke knows the exact moment Lexa wakes up.

Her breath hitches and her body stiffens for a long, confused moment. Her brow furrows before realization sets in and her entire being softens and sinks completely against Clarke.

"You hands are cold," she whispers, her eyes still closed.

Clarke doesn't stop and lets her fingertips venture close to the waistband of Lexa's underwear instead. "You stole all the blankets," she breathes back. "It woke me up."

Lexa hums out another sleepy sigh except it rumbles happily in her throat. "Pretty sure that was the rain."

Clarke tilts her head and looks up to the window above Lexa's bed. Sure enough, the rain beats heavily against the glass and Clarke doesn't know how she missed it.

When she turns back, she's surprised to find green, sleepy eyes watching her.

They're so clear and pretty that it forces a gulp up her throat. She gets stuck staring into them for a long time before she thinks of something to say.

"Do you want your glasses?" she whispers.