She’d read over her texts so many times the night before that her eyes had gone blurry. Raven had eventually surfaced, not even apologetic. She’d taken her mom off of Clarke’s hands with that sort of serene “fucked well and often” look, and left Clarke to her inner panic that had blown up to epic proportions once she hadn’t had to focus on anything else.
What had happened? What had gone so wrong?
Why had Lexa figured it out now, of all times?
She’d been so bitter the last few weeks. Maybe not at first, just happy to still have Lexa as her friend, but eventually it had eaten at her. In the way that she’d avoided any mention of what had happened, sticking to arguably shallower topics that seemed way too much like small talk. In the way Clarke had to keep catching herself from reaching out and touching Lexa, even in the most innocent of ways, for fear that it might be too close to forward. And even in the way that Clarke had tried– she’d tried so hard, and it had never been hard before– to hook up with more than one girl in the last few weeks, and always it had fallen through.
Most of the times it was her fault. Brunettes with light eyes that could never be green enough, voices that were never the right pitch, lips that were never the right shape. She’d make her excuses and drop the whole thing.
To put it mildly, Clarke was beyond frustrated. And she’d taken it out on Lexa last night under the cover of anonymity as her brasher persona, and somehow that had led to Lexa figuring out who she was. That she was Costia as well.
And now they had a meeting at their coffee shop (their?) and Clarke had considered not going.
How could she face Lexa after this? How could she look her in the eye and confirm that Costia wasn’t a real person? Because Clarke knew that that’s what it would come to. She knew that despite all of the half-truths, she’d never be able to outright lie to Lexa.
The only thing worse than going and facing Lexa would be not going and confirming Lexa’s doubts in the worst way, though. And then why would Lexa ever talk to her again? She didn’t like Clarke. At all, really.
So Clarke dressed once more from the collection she kept at her studio. Her classier outfits. The things that made her Costia. She’d actually grown to like the look, the way it made her feel. Would this be the last time she’d wear them?
Then Clarke caught a cab, feeling all the while like she was headed to Costia’s death. She showed up to the coffee shop 45 minutes early and sat with an untouched coffee cup as she fought every minute with the urge to get up and run away. ]
Dedicated to my partner in crime, Desi, who passed away on Tuesday. I love you, Shorty. You live on in your words. I love you.
This was the one we were going to save for the end and now the end has an entirely different meaning, so I’m going to go ahead and post it now. I have so many more one shots that we had saved to post and never got around to it. If you want more, just say so. This is a lovely way to keep her legacy alive. The only difference is that we can’t edit together anymore, so I’m going to just set them up as hardly edited. I wouldn’t want to cut something she would have wanted to keep. I don’t want to go through that risk.
Thanks to everyone for all the support. Her brother and I are both overwhelmed with the kind words and the amount of people she touched. Thank you for allowing us to grieve.
“I’ve carried it all too long ; The fear of the pain it brings ; Feeling the panic building up ; I’d rather the broken heart ; Than live in the emptiness ; Of what if the world won’t save me?”
Romans 12:1-2 Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Offering yourself to God is what worship is all about. We are urged to present ourselves to God as a living sacrifice holy and pleasing to Him. Pray: Lord I offer myself to you. I want to live for You and serve You for the rest of my life. Teach me to be holy and pleasing in your sight. In Jesus’ Name, Amen
retract the sun from
beyond my sight
and i will bay and
howl to death these
errant nasty skies;
long-lunged breath but
no place to spend
it have i; so fly!
fly these errant
zephyrs true and make
lighter hue; that is
what you should do.
“So, this whole cake business. You recovered from that yet? Gotta say, I thought Roman was immature back in the Shield. He’s reached the highest of levels now. What an insult to me, the man that made him who he is today.”