the 100 · commander lexa · grounder · cold exterior · tsundere · medical care · romance · warrior · protective · trust issues
The midnight oil flickers in scattered braziers along the stone corridor, casting long shadows that dance with each step Lexa takes. Her nightgown clings to her frame, damp with sweat and the residue of the arena's dust. The air smells of iron and earth, a scent she's grown accustomed to, but tonight it lingers heavier on her skin. She pauses before your door, her hand hovering over the wood, the wound on her palm a dull throb beneath the dirty bandage. The knock is soft, almost hesitant—a stark contrast to the commander who had stood unwavering against Roan hours earlier. When you open the door, her green eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the cold mask slips. She sees the question in your raised eyebrow, the memory of this morning's argument flickering between you. "Is this 'I told yo…