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almostafantasia · 7 years

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apartment wars

Clexa Week Day 1 - Enemies To Lovers

Summary: When Lexa ends up snatching the apartment that Clarke wants from right under her nose, she becomes Clarke’s sworn archenemy. Not that Lexa is actually aware of this, but Clarke’s decided that things have to be that way. The last thing that Clarke expects is the series of events that lead up to her being asked to move into that very same apartment months later.

Read on AO3.

The news that Clarke gets upon arrival at the real estate office, while probably not as disastrously tragic as she makes it out to be, feels like she’s just had her heart ripped out from her chest by the clawed hand of Satan himself.

“We lost the apartment,” Clarke announces to Raven mournfully, as if Raven hadn’t been standing right beside her when the real estate agent gave them the bad news. “Some other bitch signed it earlier today.”

Raven’s eyes flicker up briefly, giving Clarke a look, then her gaze returns to the phone in her hands, her thumbs dancing with effortless ease across the screen as she taps out a message.

“There are other apartments,” Raven replies indifferently.

“But this was my dream apartment,” whines Clarke.

“Half an hour ago you were telling me how you weren’t sure if we should take it or not,” Raven scoffs, finally slipping her phone back into the pocket of her jacket and leaning on the polished marble counter of the reception desk with her elbows.

“It was within our budget and only a little bit shitty,” Clarke reminds her, while her insides make an unsettling dip at the realisation that they’re going to have to start viewing some more apartments as they hunt for the perfect place for when they graduate collage in just a few weeks’ time.

The receptionist stares wide-eyed at their polar opposite reactions to the news that the two bedroom apartment they’ve had their eye on has been snatched from their grasp by another person.

“We’ll find somewhere else,” Raven tells Clarke. “Somewhere even less shitty and maybe only a tiny bit out of our budget.”

“I can find some information about other apartments similar to that one if you like,” suggests the receptionist.

As Raven nods and enters a discussion with the woman behind the desk, Clarke’s attention is drawn to the previously unnoticed girl standing to her left, a thick pile of official looking paperwork on the counter in front of her and a pen in her hand.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get the apartment,” she says to Clarke, lifting a hand up to tuck her sweeping brown hair behind her ear so that it tumbles over her shoulder instead of obstructing the side of her face.

“Wait, who are you?” Clarke frowns across at her.

“I’m ‘some other bitch’,” she tells Clarke, an amused expression on her face as she parrots Clarke’s earlier words right back at her. “But you can call me Lexa.”

Clarke only lets herself blush for a couple of seconds at the realisation that Lexa has been eavesdropping on her complaints about the loss of the apartment, her frustration quickly taking over to dispel all other emotions as she becomes aware of just how small of a margin they missed out on this apartment.

“You’re the one who stole our apartment,” she gasps, a bitter contempt starting to bubble up deep inside her, the tiniest hint of jealousy at what this girl has that Clarke so desperately wants.

“Stole?” scoffs Lexa. She gestures to the paperwork in her hand and continues, “I think it’s more accurate to say that I simply signed the contract first.”

Scowling, Clarke reaches across to one of the paper specifications that Raven has been given by the receptionist and says, “Are you sure you can’t be persuaded to change your mind? Look, there’s plenty of other places to live. How about this two-bed in…” Clarke pauses and frowns as she glances down at the paper in the hand, skimming the information about that particular apartment. “No, you probably shouldn’t live in that part of town. No wonder the rent on this place is so cheap.”

“Hey,” says Lexa, reaching out and resting one of her hands over Clarke’s in a gesture that would perhaps be comforting, had Clarke not decided thirty seconds ago that this girl is her new mortal enemy. “I’m genuinely sorry for getting to this apartment first. But it really is the most cost-effective option with the best transport links to get into the city centre for work.”

“I know,” Clarke pouts like a small child who has just been denied a new toy. “That’s why we wanted it.”

“Come on, Clarke,” says Raven, grabbing Clarke by the hand not holding the newly acquired information papers. “We didn’t get the apartment. There are plenty of others here for us to consider.”

As she leaves the real estate office, Clarke calls back over her shoulder at the girl who has shattered all of her apartment-hunting dreams.

“Thanks for ruining my weekend!”

They do find another apartment, but only after two and a half months of searching and a few weeks of crashing on Octavia’s living room floor after the lease runs out on their old student accommodation. And as much as Clarke is happy that they’ve finally found somewhere to live (her life as a new graduate isn’t a complete disaster now that she actually has her own bed), she can’t help but compare it to the apartment that so nearly became hers.

Because the rent on the new place is just a little bit higher, the bedrooms just a little bit smaller, the journey into the city centre just that little bit longer. And the difference might only be small, but it all adds up to a lot of resentment.

A lot of resentment directed at the girl that Clarke bumps into in the hallway outside Octavia and Lincoln’s apartment.

“Oh my god, it’s you.”

Lexa startles when she hears Clarke’s exclamation that is full of contempt, and there are a good five or so seconds of her just frowning at Clarke, until the recognition washes over her face when she realises who she’s bumped into.

“Oh, hello! You’re the one whose weekend I ruined a while back, right?”

Her forehead knitting into a tight frown, Clarke’s scowl only intensifies with the light tone of Lexa’s voice, as if it is all nothing more than a joke to her.

“You’re the one who stole my apartment,” Clarke grumbles bitterly.

“I signed the contract first,” comes Lexa’s response, her answer reminiscent of their first conversation back in the real estate office a couple of months earlier. “What are you doing in this building?”

“My old college roommate lives here,” Clarke says, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb at Octavia’s front door just a few feet behind her. “One of the many reasons I wanted to move into this building was the proximity to her boyfriend’s impressive collection of liquor.”

Lexa smiles softly in amusement, then reaches out to lightly touch Clarke’s forearm with her hand.

“Speaking of alcohol, we’re throwing a party this weekend,” she tells Clarke. “A celebration of finally unpacking the last box. You should come.”

Clarke’s eyes widen and the unexpected invitation from a girl that she doesn’t even know, and she stumbles over her answer, “What? Is this so you can, like, rub it in my face that you got the apartment that I wanted?”

“No!” Lexa is quick to protest. “No, I didn’t mean it like that! I was just trying to be friendly. An olive branch. My sister is the one hosting the party. She’s invited a whole load of her friends because she wants the party to be “banging”.” Lexa accompanies this last word with air quotes and a roll of her eyes, then continues, “Her words, not mine. There’s going to be a lot of people there and I don’t know many of them but the invitation is open to you too. Bring your old roommate and her boyfriend, and the girl you were with when we met. The more the merrier.”

Clarke takes a couple of steps back towards Octavia’s front door.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I wouldn’t have put a couch there.”

Clarke yelps in pain as the knuckles of Raven’s right fist collide with her upper arm with far more force than necessary.

“This is weird enough without you commenting on their placement of furniture,” Raven complains, her voice barely audible over the thumping music that reverberates off every wall. “Why did we get invited to this party again? We don’t even know them.”

“A peace offering after stealing our apartment,” Clarke shrugs, staring around at the room of complete strangers crammed in the small living space.

“I think it was just a gesture, I’m not sure we were actually supposed to accept the invitation.”

Clarke spots a familiar flash of curly brunette hair in the crowd and lets her eyes linger on Lexa, who is talking to two other girls over by the far wall with a drink in her hand.

“She’s my nemesis, Raven,” Clarke says, her forehead furrowing into a frown. “I’m here to find out more about her so that I know how to take her out.”

“Or maybe you want to take her out,” Raven grins mischievously, nudging Clarke with her elbow, “because you’ve got a huge ladyboner for her. Speaking of ladyboners, I’m going to introduce myself to the hottie by the fridge. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

And with that, Raven gently pushes her way through the crowds of people in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Clarke alone and feeling rather stupid about the fact that she decided to come to this party at all.

That is, until company arrives in the form of the only other person that Clarke knows in this room, her sworn archenemy, and Clarke doesn’t know whether to be relieved that she’s no longer alone, or frustrated that Lexa is here to rub her new living situation into Clarke’s face.

“You made it,” says Lexa, seeming genuinely surprised at Clarke’s presence, though she wears a smile on her face as she speaks.

“I did,” nods Clarke. “And I’m not at all impressed with the layout.” Cocking her head to the side, Clarke gestures to the other side of the room and asks, “Why would you put the couch against that wall?”

“It’s temporary. We wanted more space in the middle of the room for the party. The couch normally goes over there.”

With the hand not curled around a bottle of beer, Lexa gestures with her hand to show where the couch usually sits.

“Oh,” Clarke says a little stupidly. “Yeah. That’s where I’d put it too.”

Smirking, Lexa crosses her legs at the ankles as she leans against the wall just to Clarke’s left and mockingly asks, “Do you want a tour of the place? Maybe you can critique the furniture in the other rooms too.”

“Nah I’m good.”

“Then can I at least get you a drink?”

Lexa’s offer is genuine this time, eyes wide in anticipation of Clarke’s answer.

“Sure,” Clarke nods. Pointing at the bottle in Lexa’s hand, she elaborates, “Beer is good.”

Lexa is gone for just a minute, effortlessly navigating her way through the room to where a giant bucket of ice houses a selection of bottles and cans. She returns with one in her empty hand, an identical one to the one that she is drinking herself, and passes it across to Clarke who accept the chilled bottle with a mumble of thanks.

“So, Clarke,” Lexa starts, her eyes bright with intrigue. “Tell me something about yourself so that I have more to go on than the fact that you hold insane grudges for things that aren’t even that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?” Clarke parrots back with a snort. “I …”

Upon seeing the little smirk of amusement written on Lexa’s face, Clarke realises that she’s being mocked and trails off. She takes a long swig of the beer in her hand and then folds her arms across her chest indignantly

“Fine. I’m twenty-two, I’ve just graduated college, and I’m an artist. Which, by the way, means that I am both unemployed and unemployable.”

“Impressive,” Lexa teases.

“What about you?” Clarke bounces the question back to the girl in front of her, adding drily, “Besides your passion for destroying dreams.”

“Let’s think. I’m Lexa, though you already know that, I’m twenty-three, I live here with my sister – she’s the one that your friend is shamelessly flirting with over there. And besides snatching apartments, my passions include scented candles, yoga, and eating sushi.”

“Yoga?” Clarke screws her face up in disgust. “I should have known you were one of those.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?” Lexa exclaims, half-laughing and half confused.

“One of those people who does yoga and drinks green smoothies and goes for morning runs,” Clarke elaborates. “Tell me I’m not wrong about any of those assumptions.”

“You’ve got me!” Lexa shrugs, a little smile crossing her face as she raises the hand not holding her drink in a mock surrender. She looks up at Clarke, a mischievous glint flashing across her green eyes, then says, “Oh, and one other thing - I’ve got a bit of a thing for pretty blondes who get this cute little crinkle in their forehead when they get mad about the stupidest of things. See you later, Clarke.”

She takes a couple of steps backward with a smirk on her face, then turns away to walk into the crowd, leaving Clarke with a dumfounded expression on her face as she tries to wrap her brain around Lexa’s parting words.

And when it hits her, it properly hits her, like she’s been standing on a railway track and a cargo train has just collided into her at high speed.

“Oh, shit.”

Clarke realises that maybe, despite it all, she has a little bit of a thing for infuriating brunettes who steal apartments and do yoga in their free time.

“What was it you were saying earlier about how celebrating every month anniversary is pointless?”

Lexa’s voice is a little husky but there’s a hint of satisfaction in her gloat. She crawls up Clarke’s body, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and pressing kisses up the planes of Clarke’s stomach and across the curves of her breasts until she can settle her head against Clarke’s shoulder, one of her legs slung lazily over Clarke’s hips.

It might have been six months since Lexa asked her out, but Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever going to tire of the things that Lexa does with her mouth. Each time they have sex feels like the first time all over again, except now Lexa knows her well enough to know just how to frustrate her to the point where she’s begging for release. And each time Lexa indulges her, the reward is just that little bit sweeter when it courses through her body and leaves her a writhing mess on the mattress.

Or on the couch.

Or up against the wall next to the front door of the apartment that Clarke is still adamant that Lexa stole from her.

“I take it back, I take it all back,” Clarke says breathlessly, her chest rising and falling rapidly, even under Lexa’s weight, as she tries to catch her breath back. Nudging Lexa with her hand, she adds suggestively, “Hey, tomorrow is our six months and one day anniversary, can we celebrate that in the same way?”

Clarke feels Lexa’s mouth turn up into a smile against the skin of her shoulder as she replies, “Sure.”

They fall into a momentary silence, basking in the afterglow that can only come from consecutive orgasms. Clarke’s fingers trace delicate patterns across Lexa’s tattooed back, and she breathes in the scent of Lexa’s shampoo – a mixed berry flavour that Clarke loves to borrow whenever she’s over at Lexa’s for the sole reason that it reminds her of her girlfriend whenever she gets a waft of it from her own hair later in the day.

“I’ve got something serious to say,” Lexa mumbles, lifting her head and propping herself up on one elbow.

The view is tantalising, her body still half draped over Clarke’s but now in a way so that the arch of her back emphasises the curve of her butt. It takes all of Clarke’s willpower to let Lexa continue instead of rolling her onto her back and taking her again.

“So this all happened because I signed the contract on this apartment before you did,” Lexa says.

“You stole my apartment,” Clarke teases, deliberately letting her fingers brush across the sensitive spot on Lexa’s side that she just knows drives her girlfriend mad. “When are you just going to admit that?”

“Never,” Lexa grins back. “Because I want it to become our apartment.”

The comment is so off-handed, so completely out of the blue that Clarke almost misses it completely. And before Clarke has time to fully understand the intention behind Lexa’s words herself, Lexa launches into an elaborate monologue to explain what she means.

“Yes, this place is a little crappy,” Lexa gestures at the bedroom around them. “And you’ve got some commissions coming in and I’m about to be promoted so pretty soon we’ll be able to afford the rent on somewhere a little less crappy. But on account of today being six months since you agreed to be my girlfriend and eight months and twenty four days – yes, I counted – since you threw a tantrum in a real estate office while I signed the papers for this place, I want to ask you to move in with me.” Lexa pauses, her green eyes wide and looking up at Clarke with absolute honesty, before she concludes, “To move in here, for a little bit, and then to somewhere better that we can call ours.”

Tilting her head to the side and trying her best not to combust from pure delight at Lexa’s offer, Clarke teases, “Moving in together at six months? Are we not moving a little fast?”

“I’m a lesbian, Clarke,” Lexa grins. “You have no idea how much self-restraint it has taken to wait this long. I nearly rented a U-Haul to take us home from the real estate office.”

“Idiot,” Clarke shakes her head, even as she leans in for a kiss to meet Lexa’s smiling lips with her own. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

#clexaweek2017 #clexa #clexa fanfic #clarke griffin #commander lexa #not my best work i know #i'm trying to write shorter fics #so the quality is probably lacking

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