The Very Real, Very Wet Rant

 

Lexa set her bags down next to the door and kicked it shut with her heel, but before she could even remove her jacket, a warm body crashed into hers. She was pinned to the hard wooden door by strong hands on her hips and a needy kiss upon her lips. Lexa sighed as Clarke ran her tongue along her bottom lip before biting it playfully.

 

“Happy I’m home?” Lexa managed to groan out around Clarke’s tongue.

 

“Mmm,” Clarke mumbled, releasing Lexa’s hips and stepping back. She threaded their hands together and led her to the dining room table. “So happy.”

 

Lexa barely contained her smile at the sight. Clarke had prepared her favorite meal, going all out with wine and flowers and candles. “You did all this for me?”

 

“Of course I did, tiger,” Clarke beamed as she brought their connected hands to her lips. “Your three-year contract is up, and not that I wouldn’t have supported you if you decided to renew with US Soccer, but I’m also really really fucking happy to have you home.”

 

“I’m happy too.” Lexa nodded. And she was. The job was everything she’d ever dreamed it would be. She cared for and helped provide plans for some of the most elite athletes the United States had to offer. It was thrilling and challenging, and the opportunity she had to work with the most cutting edge equipment had rocked her world. When it came time to renew, Lexa seriously considered doing it.

 

However, when Lexa’s contract was almost up, she got another very unexpected phone call. A division one university just lost their head trainer and was desperate to find a replacement. And it just so happened that said university was less than forty-five minutes from their condo. After a few negotiations on salary and vacation time, Lexa accepted the job and headed home to her very loving and patient girlfriend.

 

And as Lexa sat across from the woman she was still in love with after eight years, she smiled because it had been worth it.

 

Lexa quickly fell into a new routine, and despite the commute, was happier than ever with her new job. Clarke had also recently been promoted at the art gallery she worked for, and it seemed that life was exactly as it should be.

 

Which was why Lexa was utterly dumbfounded to find herself on the receiving end of a very real, very wet, very terrifying rant.

 

Clarke came home from work in a whirlwind, slamming the door shut, and causing Lexa to nearly drop the pan of chicken in her hands. Lexa peered around the corner of the kitchen, and just watched as Clarke threw her keys in the bowl by the door, kicked off her shoes, and stormed into the bedroom.

 

Lexa set the chicken carefully down, quickly washed her hands, and tentatively knocked on their bedroom door. “Clarke? Is everything all right?”

 

Lexa pressed her ear to the door when no answer followed. She heard a few sniffles and that stuttered breathing that always accompanied Clarke’s sobbing sessions, and Lexa immediately opened the door. Clarke was curled up on their bed, legs tucked close to her chest, Lexa’s pillow hugged in her arms. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her chest still heaved from crying so hard.

 

Lexa didn’t say a word; she just crossed the room and slid her body behind Clarke’s, wrapping an arm around her middle. Clarke stiffened at first but relaxed within a moment. Lexa let Clarke dictate the pace; she knew Clarke would talk when she was ready.

 

Lexa had no idea how long they lay there, but as Clarke’s breathing evened out, Lexa was almost sure she had fallen asleep. But a hand suddenly wrapped around her own, and the very raspy voice of her girlfriend broke the silence.

 

“Where do we stand?”

 

Lexa pressed a small kiss to Clarke’s shoulder before she answered. “What do you mean?”

 

Clarke sighed and turned in her hold. Her face was blotchy from tears, and her eyes, while red-rimmed, sparkled a brilliant blue. “I mean, where do we stand? Where is this relationship going? What do you see for our future?”

 

Lexa sucked in a deep breath as her heart sunk to the bottom of her stomach as if it was attached to a forty-pound brick. “I love you, Clarke. I want our life. I want this life I’ve built with you.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Yes,” Lexa quickly answered. She was slightly terrified that Clarke was all of a sudden having doubts, but she knew deep down that this little breakdown had nothing to do with her. Something happened to Clarke today. “Where is this coming from? I thought you knew how I felt. Do I make you question my devotion to you?”

 

“No,” Clarke shook her head. Lexa cupped Clarke’s cheek and gathered the fat tear that escaped Clarke’s eye with her thumb. “It’s just Harper.”

 

“Harper? Work Harper?”

 

“Yeah, we were talking and you came up and she referred to you as my wife and I had to correct her because we aren’t married.”

 

“And this upset you?”

 

“Fuck, Lexa,” Clarke rolled over on her back and ranted towards the ceiling. Lexa scooted up the bed, leaning against their pile of pillows so that she could look Clarke in the eyes. “Yeah, it did. We’ve been together for eight years, and we never really talk about marriage, we never really talk about kids.”

 

“At your insistence,” Lexa calmly pointed out. “I’ve tried to bring it up before.”

 

“I know, I know,” Clarke heaved with an enormous sigh before turning to meet Lexa’s gaze. “And I didn’t realize how much it bothered me until I was slapped in the face with it. I love you, and I see a future with you, and I didn’t think I needed that piece of paper declaring our commitment to each other, but surprise! Turns out I do. I want to call you my wife. I want the house, the kids, the boring domesticity. I want it all. I hated having to tell Harper that we weren’t married because then it made me think about someone else potentially calling you their wife-”

 

“Clarke…”

 

“And that made me feel sick. Sick to my stomach. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I picked you for this, and then we picked each other. And it’s beautiful, and I love you. And I’m sorry I worried you here, but it upset me, and I’m starting to hear how ridiculous I sound, but it’s too late to take it back.”

 

Lexa took in everything Clarke was rambling, and instead of being worried or frustrated with Clarke’s seemingly back and forth nature, it only made her love her even more. Clarke was so passionate, she felt everything, but she was also one of the most logical people Lexa had ever met. The only time she let all her emotions fly was when she was alone, with Lexa, just like now. To the world, Clarke was pragmatic, but Lexa got to see this beautiful, emotional wreck. And the fact that Clarke felt comfortable enough around her to let her facade fall was everything.

 

And Lexa wanted it all too. She always had, but she’d respected Clarke’s wishes. Not that it stopped her from buying a ring. A ring that was currently tucked in her bedside drawer.

 

Lexa quickly debated in her head as Clarke wound down from her rant. She could pull out the ring, propose right then and there, or she could stick to her plan, and give Clarke the proposal she’d been planning for months.