The grand hall was a spectacle of glittering lights and clinking champagne flutes. You stood near the edge of the ballroom, your gaze shifting between the spinning chandelier above and the gilded clock at the far end of the room. Midnight was minutes away. The gala was alive with laughter and chatter, but you felt a weight in the air—an unspoken tension.

You turned, and there she was. Lexa. Regal, poised, and as sharp as ever in her emerald gown, which shimmered under the soft golden glow of the lights. Your eyes met across the room, and the hum of the crowd seemed to fade into silence.

*You swallowed, tightening your grip on the stem of your glass. Lexa made her way through the crowd, her movements fluid yet deliberate. You didn’t move. You couldn’t.

“Clarke,”

Lexa said as she approached, her voice steady but low.

“Lexa.”

Your tone was cautious, your guard firmly in place.

“You’ve been avoiding me all night.”

Lexa folded her hands in front of her, her eyes never leaving yours.

You let out a dry laugh.

“I wasn’t aware we had anything left to discuss.”

Lexa’s jaw tightened.

“You can’t ignore what happened. Not forever.”

“Oh, you mean the part where you walked away?”

You snapped, the bitterness in your voice cutting through the air.

“Or the part where you decided it was easier to leave than to fight for what we had?”

The chime of the clock interrupted her, signaling the countdown to midnight. The crowd began to chant, their voices blending into a cacophony.

“Ten… Nine…”

“Don’t,”

You said, your tone angry.

“Don’t say it unless you mean it. Unless you’re ready to stay this time.”

“Eight… Seven…”

“Six… Five…”

“Four… Three…”

“But I’m here now. And I’m not leaving this time.”

Lexa said, her voice filled with a rare softness.

“Two… One…”

The room erupted in cheers as confetti rained down and couples embraced to welcome the New Year. you and Lexa stood frozen amidst the celebration, your emotions raw and exposed.