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Fear The 100

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Lexa Woods

I stared out the window, looking out at the never-ending forest and starlit night sky. I always dreamed of seeing a sky perfectly decorated with twinkling constellations and somewhere in the distance, waterfalls poured magic into ponds. If I was Alicia, then I'd be thinking this was some sort of romance movie. But I'm not my twin, we look similar but that's as far as our likeliness goes. She likes romance, poetry and daydreams. I like action, logic and living in reality. 

 

"Why?" She said, shutting the door behind us. Both of us in our towels and though I could feel every part of me yearning to look at her, to see the skin that lies underneath the white towels, I force myself to stare out the window. Staring into the darkness, knowing that out there, the dead rule and even worse than that, humans exist. I don't trust this place. And the moment the opportunity rises, me and my family will leave; my people come first. And Clarke, though pretty as she is, she's not mine. I won't let another outsider close; they die. And Clarke has a death wish. She's illogical and reckless and she will die.

 

"Why?" She repeated and I could see her reflection in the window, she stood behind me, the bed in between us. The bathroom door behind her was open and I could see her reflection in that, the towel stopping just under her butt cheeks, I wished the towel was a little shorter and I had to stop myself staring at her. Her eyes, so blue, like the sky, like running water, like all the happy things Alicia likes. Her forehead creased in confusing and she folded her arms, staring at me. Her hair was not in her usual style, it hung free, wild and slightly wavy. She was no longer covered in mud and I could see her freckles on her cheeks and the mole in between her lips and nose. Her lips, slightly pouted as she stared into my soul.

 

I ignored her, "You should select your clothes and get changed. I guess we'll all look the same now. White tank tops and shorts to sleep in, camo around camp and black for spare." 

Clarke didn't move, she never listens to me, she's always defiant and challenges me. It's what I like about her. At school everybody listened to me, I was popular, but not because they liked me but because everyone was intimidated by me. Everyone but one, Costia. Costia had blonde hair and blue eyes too, she was the only one who challenged me. She was smart too, like Clarke, and kind and compassionate. Sometimes I look at Clarke and see her. I know Clarke's not her, and that just pulls me further in.

 

"I asked you a question." She snapped at me, I wanted to turn around and face her but I knew I couldn't. One look at her like that and it'd take all my strength not to tell her how much I want her - no, how much I need her. 

I made my tone harsh, I had to push her away, "I heard you. But it's late and we should sleep. I hope you made the right choice, Clarke." 

Clarke sighed in frustration and I saw her turn and hastily sit on the bed, making it creak and bounce. She grabbed a pair of underwear and pulled them on under her towel. She grabbed the shorts and pulled them on. She stood up and I saw the towel drop. I held my breath, seeing her perfectly formed spine and the dimples at the bottom of her back. She had love handles too and a round bum, she was not physically fit nor skinny, but that didn't matter; she was perfection. But this, this wasn't love. This was lust and I knew I had to control it.

 

She pulled a white tank top over her head and I turned around, as did she. She folded her arms and her eyes were wide with anger, "Now, answer me. Why? Why choose to share with me? You hate me, that's obvious. So why? You clearly don't agree with my decision to come here, but you didn't exactly provide any other decent suggestion. You know that. They had machine guns, they'd have shot us in an instant. The other Delinquents were dead and we couldn't have survived on our own. This is our only option, so stop giving me shit for it."

 

I swallowed, she glared at me, waiting for me to speak. But I couldn't tell her the truth. I didn't know how, I wasn't even sure what the truth was. I hate her because I want her so bad. She's strong and she's smart, so fucking smart. And she's right, we had no choice. But I couldn't let her see, I couldn't let her know how I felt because loving people, that gets them killed.

 

I shrugged, "Me and Alicia aren't joined at the hip and I figured she would want her own space. I don't like Teresa much nor Octavia, so you're the best out of a bad situation. And as for this place, I saw the way you looked at her. Just remember who the enemy is."

"Maybe you should remember that." Clarke retorted, "Maybe you should stop sending mixed messages. One minute you're arguing with me, saying I'm wasting resources and making poor judgement. The next, you're telling me I'm right and apologising," Clarke paused, tears forming in her eyes out of anger, "Just stop, Lexa, stop giving me mixed singles. Stop fucking with my head because I can't take it anymore. And I won't put up with it any longer. So make up your mind, who is the enemy?" She then pulled back the bed sheets and climbed into bed, turning her back on me. 

 

I swallowed, feeling her anger aim straight at my heart. I shook my head and dropped my towel, pulling on my clothes. I sat on the edge of the bed next to her, not looking at her as I exclaimed, "All I'm saying is I saw the way you were looking at that girl, just don't get comfortable here. This place is dangerous and we can't trust anyone but our people. Don't let that girl cloud your judgment."

Clarke rolled over, her brow creased as she looked up at me, "That Girl? You mean Skye? She saved us. And how I look at people is none of your business. I don't know what your problem is, but get your shit together, Lexa." 

 

Clarke rolled back over and I stared out the window again. Thinking of Skye. Clarke doesn't even know her and I saw how she looked at her, with trust and warmth; safety. A part of me wished Clarke looked at me like that. Clarke's always right, and she's right about getting my shit together - I can't fall for her. She might be a princess, but I am no Prince Charming.