The Hauntingly Beautiful Eternity

 

Lexa shook her head as she watched Clarke stalk up behind another freshman. She tried to control her laughter, she really did, but the look on the poor kid’s face as Clarke tapped him on the shoulder was just too priceless. Her ethereal giggles echoed in the WAC hallways, and more than a few startled heads turned in her direction.

 

Not that anyone could see her but Clarke. Clarke glided up next to her and gleefully pecked her on the lips. “I never get tired of doing that,” she whispered in Lexa’s ear.

 

“What? Scaring poor little freshmen or kissing me?”

 

“Both.”

 

Lexa rolled her eyes and attempted an indignant little huff, but Clarke was on her in a flash. Pale lips pressed against her own, and like the hopelessly in love lesbian she was, Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke, holding her close and matching her enthusiasm eagerly.

 

“You know,” Lexa sighed as she leaned her forehead on Clarke’s. “After all these years, you’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by the fact that you like kissing me.”

 

“Oh, stop it,” Clarke rolled her eyes. She gave Lexa a playful little smack upside her head but held her close right after. “I would have kissed you sooner if I’d known you were as in love with me as I was with you.”

 

“How was I supposed to know there was mutual pining going on? You could have been the brave one.”

 

Clarke pursed her lips like she was going to retort with something devilishly witty, but just as she opened her mouth, a body passed through them causing Lexa to inhale and Clarke to do that weird sort of dance to shake off the intrusion.

 

“Ugh, I hate it when they do that,” Clarke shuddered.

 

“Wanna get revenge?”

 

Clarke wrapped her arms back around Lexa’s neck, and like a trained little puppy, Lexa found her hands gripping her hips. Clarke smirked and tilted her head inquisitively, “What do you have in mind?”

 

Lexa feigned a difficult decision, reveling in the way Clarke nearly giggled at her overly exaggerated thinking face. “I propose the standard. Follow them to their dorm, move items just out of reach; maybe write a totally non-threatening message on their whiteboard while they watch.”

 

“Only if you let me choose the message. Yours are always terrible.”

 

“Fun facts are not terrible, Clarke,” Lexa scoffed.

 

“Here’s a fun fact,” Clarke twirled the hairs behind Lexa’s neck around her fingers, taking care to look her directly in the eyes as she spoke. “I love you.”

 

Even though it was hardly the first time Clarke said those three words, Lexa melted at the confession, just as she always did. Her lips stretched upwards, matching Clarke’s megawatt smile, and she dug her fingers just a little bit harder into Clarke’s hips.

 

“I love you too. But you’re not choosing the message.” Lexa leaned in to place a quick peck on Clarke’s pout before dematerializing through the wall.

 

Being dead was admittedly not Lexa’s ideal situation, but being dead and haunting the college campus with Clarke, the love of her life (and afterlife), certainly wasn’t a terrible way to spend eternity.