Chapter 13 - universe in bloom, meet me in the garden I planted for you
Clarke's lips curve. She hasn't opened her eyes yet, and doesn't need to, to know they're both drowsily enveloped by the glowing fairy lights around them. It must be early, for it to be dark enough the Christmas lights are showing beyond her eyelids. And if it's that early, then there's no reason they need to get up yet.
Clarke shifts and turns to lie on her other side, and even in her sleep, Lexa follows. She turns in Clarke's arms, automatically stretches her arm out so Clarke can curl up to her, resting her head on her chest. Her heart beats steadily under Clarke's ear, lulling her back to sleep.
When she wakes again, it's far lighter in the room, and the birds beyond the window are more active. Clarke's ear burns, half numb from hours of resting atop Lexa's chest, but she pays it little mind. She stretches instead, body unfurling like a cat, and cracks her eyes open when Lexa shifts to do the same, though her eyes have yet to open. When her body settles and her arm tightens around Clarke again, Clarke lets her eyes drift shut again, too warm and comfortable to consider getting up yet.
She doesn’t get to fall back asleep again. She fully wakes to the sensation of fluttering in her belly. Bacon doesn't seem to want to sleep in as late as they do. A smile touches Clarke's lips, and she adjusts as Lexa yawns and stretches once again before melting back down into the mattress. Clarke nuzzles into her neck and absently strokes whatever her hand rests on. She vaguely registers the quiet rumble of Lexa’s throat as she hums in approval, or maybe pleasure, as Clarke drifts her touch along her hip. Lexa's skin is warm through the thin, sleep-worn fabric of her t-shirt.
She grows somnolent again, her strokes slowing, but Lexa rolls over before she can drift off again. When Bacon kicks insistently again, Clarke huffs, amused, and cracks her eye open to focus on the sleepy fondness written across Lexa's face.
"Good morning from us both."
Lexa hums, shifting her hand from Clarke's stomach, resting her arm on the curve of Clarke's hip instead. Fingertips graze the sensitive skin at the small of Clarke's back, and she has to swallow down the purr that tries to rumble up her throat.
"Good morning," Lexa returns, and Clarke has approximately one second to admire the way long lashes rise and fall over the silvery green of Lexa's eyes before they suddenly grow much closer. Clarke's heart lodges itself in her throat and she remains carefully still as Lexa brushes full lips over the center of her forehead, and then her temple, before brushing over the curve of her cheek.
She can't do anything but look at Lexa, for a moment. Marveling over how at peace she makes her feel. How ridiculously safe and warm it is, like they're in their own little world. Clarke loves it.
She loves it, and hopes desperately that she makes Lexa feel the same way. By the way Lexa looks at her when she leans in to trace the exact same trail of kisses over Lexa's face, she thinks maybe she does.
Lexa's gaze lingers on her, soft and glowing with affection. "Good morning."
Clarke can't help it; it pulls a chuckle out of her, one that coaxes Lexa's smile to grow. "You said that already."
Lexa's arm tightens around her, hand splaying at the small of her back. "It bears repeating."
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