you're hot one minute

It makes me sad that a lot of guys don’t like being called cute because like… cute is such a great thing! If I’m calling you cute it means that that thing you just did makes me so warm and fuzzy inside that I could just admire you all day.

Are We Killing Time? (Are We Killing Each Other?)

Clexa. Canon through 3x02.

I had a lot of feels, because who didn’t, and I wrote a thing. Enjoy some Commander Heart Eyes. And thanks @jennamacaroni for the support and feels.



Dread.

It grows hot and deep with every step back to Clarke.

You straighten your back, lift your chin.

Remember the words spoken not so long ago, you worry about your people, I’ll worry about mine.

Watch as realization sinks in. Eyes full of confusion turn first to understanding, to disbelief, to anger.

To ice.

You don’t move, barely breathe. The tense air between you threatening to ignite brighter than the flame that opened the heavy door.

Clarke fights the tears that pool in her eyes. The heavy undercurrent so alive under the realization of your deal. Heartbreak. Clear and open on her face.

A swallow against the lump forming quickly in your throat as you watch every emotion play out  across from you.

Bitter.

And you try. Try to pull the mask back down, try to become Heda.

There are flashes of it.

But you need Clarke to understand.

“I do care, Clarke. But I made this choice with my head, not my heart.”

Your own voice wavers, breaks.

Never reaching the timbre of strength, conviction.

Too soft. Too full of feeling.

Clarke’s face morphs, twists into desperation. Pleading.

It pangs in your heart.

Love is weakness.

Duty, above all else.

Clarke will only see it as betrayal, no matter how many apologies fall unpracticed and foreign from the lips of Heda.

Heda who apologizes for nothing.

Heda who made the decision with the souls of her people upon her shoulders.

Heda who will face the ire and loathing of the girl Lexa has grown to care for so deeply.

“May we meet again,” a whisper.

A prayer.

You turn before you break, a small gasp slipping through your lips at the way Clarke’s eyes plead.

How she can see everything breaking.

The glimmer of hope, of a future gone in an instant.

Your heart beating wildly in your chest, fighting every move, every step away until it breaks noiselessly inside you.

Every step taking you further and further from the girl who fell from the sky, who now faces an uncertain future.

It’s impossible not to see flashes of death all around..

Clarke’s body broken and bloodied.

Lifeless.

You swallow down the bile that rises in your throat, heavy and burning.

Focus on your people wrapped in blankets, shivering and freezing.

The ones tortured for their blood.

Close your eyes and breathe in, quell the storm raging madly in your heart.

Offering up a silent prayer to whomever is listening that the plan works, that Clarke makes it out alive.

Keep reading

4

i’m here without you, baby