The Horrible Model

 

Lexa contemplated what it would mean for Clarke to draw her, and she became increasingly more uncomfortable by the minute. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help Clarke, that was the farthest thing from the truth. She just didn’t like the idea of sitting still for hours while the woman she had a massive crush on scrutinized her with an artist’s eye.

 

What if she found too many imperfections? What if she grew bored of staring at Lexa? Or what if Clarke actually wasn’t all that great of an artist and when Lexa inevitably saw the finished sketch accidentally let her face drop in surprise?

 

None of those things seemed worth the risk, so Lexa just shook her head with a small smile. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’d be a horrible model. I can’t sit still.”

 

“Meh,” Clarke shrugged. “It was worth a shot. I’ll just bribe Octavia with white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.”