The Confession

 

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry. This was not the plan. I shouldn’t have drunkenly confessed all that. And I’m not even that drunk. Fuck. The words, the tears. You must think I’m crazy. Lexa, please, can we just forget that this ever happened?” Clarke buried her face in her hands and shook her head in a panic.

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No,” Lexa repeated. She tugged at Clarke’s hands and smiled when she could finally see all of Clarke again. “I don’t want to forget that this happened. The woman of my dreams just told me that she’s pretty sure she’s in love with me. I don’t want to ignore that. I want to shout it from my balcony. I want to remember this night for the rest of my life.”

 

“The woman of your dreams?”

 

“I’ve liked you for the better part of three years. And I know you said you didn’t know when I started to occupy all your thoughts, but Clarke, I remember that moment for me with perfect clarity.”

 

Lexa placed a gentle hand on Clarke’s cheek, drawing aimless patterns on the soft warms skin with her thumb. “I spoke to you for the first time your freshman year when you twisted your ankle in a game. Nyko treated you, but I was there. You made some joke about the ground being jealous of your talent, and that’s why it made you twist your ankle. That was when I realized I liked you.”

 

She dropped her hand from Clarke’s cheek and intertwined their fingers instead. “Last year you came with Raven to every single one of her treatments after practice, just to keep her company. You just wanted to make her feel good because she was hurting. That was when I realized you were special.”

 

Lexa made sure Clarke was looking directly at her before continuing with a soft smile. “And this year, you sprained your ankle, and during that first session our conversation came so easily, and I’ve never experienced that with someone before. That ease and comfort. After that first session, yeah, that’s when I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

 

That confession turned out to be one of Lexa’s most beautiful moments. Clarke had stared at her starry-eyed, and the following kiss was the best first kiss of her life. When they broke apart, Lexa smirked, because she had a feeling that it was the last first kiss she’d ever experience.

 

They were inseparable for the remainder of Lexa’s senior year, and when she decided to stay at the same college and pursue her masters, Clarke was as supportive as she was ecstatic. And she even agreed to move in with her.