The Boorish Boob-Oggler
Lexa took a deep breath before opening the door; she trained her face to remain as neutral as possible even though her mind was screaming with anticipation and joy. All chill she managed to temporarily exude flew out the window the moment she saw Clarke standing at her door.
She was dressed in dark tight jeans that Lexa just knew hugged her ass and thighs deliciously, and a simple black tank that while it was quite baggy, still pulled tightly over Clarke’s ample chest and revealed a tantalizing amount of cleavage. And goddammit, Lexa really hated her alcohol-muddled brain for objectifying Clarke at the moment.
“Can I come in, or would you like to continue staring at my boobs for a few more minutes? I mean, I can’t really blame you. The girls look fantastic in this bra.”
Lexa wasn’t sure if she wanted to die from mortification or thank the powers that be for her inability to tear her eyes from Clarke’s chest because as Clarke finished her sentence, she reached down and cupped her breasts, pushing them together and up. And Lexa was very gay and very appreciative of Clarke Griffin’s cleavage.
By some miracle, Lexa tore her eyes from the top of Clarke’s tank top and up to her equally as beautiful face. She muttered a quiet apology and stood to the side, inviting Clarke in with a wave of her hand.
“Don’t worry about it, tiger,” Clarke smirked as she walked past Lexa and into her home. “Everyone looks.”
Lexa threw her head to the ceiling and slumped her shoulders in exasperation. How she managed to embarrass herself so thoroughly in such a short amount of time would forever remain a mystery. She took a moment to inhale deeply as she locked the door and turned around to find Clarke slumped on her couch, her shoes already kicked off and feet tucked under her.
Determined to act like a normal human being and not some boorish boob-oggler, Lexa made her way to the breakfast bar and picked up the half-finished bottle of wine. “Care for a glass?”
“Sure.”
Lexa carried the two stemless glasses back to the couch and handed Clarke one. Clarke’s fingertips brushed against her own, and the little smirk on her lips had Lexa thinking the touch was anything but accidental.
“So do you always drink alone?”
“No,” Lexa shook her head after settling herself on the couch. She kept just enough distance between them, so they didn’t touch, but she sat far closer to her than she would any other person. “I rarely drink anything at all.”
“What’s the occasion then?”
“Drowning my sorrows.” Lexa meant for her answer to be a bit of a joke, but Clarke sucked in a deep breath of air, and her eyes suddenly narrowed as the pout on her face confirmed that she was concerned with that answer. So Lexa quickly added on, “I’m good. I’m good now. How was the party?”
Clarke took a moment too long to answer. She studied Lexa’s face, undoubtedly searching for a sign that she was lying. Slightly uncomfortable with the acute scrutiny, Lexa took a big sip of her wine and had to fight back the urge to hiss as it burned her throat.
“Boring,” Clarke finally relented, and Lexa was extremely happy to be out of that intense spotlight. “People got way too drunk way too fast, and I didn’t really want to take a bunch of shots of questionable liquor to catch up, you know?”
“I get that.”
“So,” Clarke drummed her fingers on the side of her glass. “You said you were listening to music. Play me a favorite song.”
“You don’t like what’s on right now?”
“Oh, I do. I just want to hear one of your favorites.”
Lexa didn’t hide her smile. She grabbed her phone and opened her music app. Two songs popped into her mind. She could play the song she’d recently become obsessed with, or she could play the song that she’d loved since she was a child.
