the grand ballroom was alive with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of music in the background. Guests in elegant attire moved gracefully across the marble floors, their conversations blending into an indistinct murmur. The gala was a formal affair—one that honored Lexa’s success in brokering peace between rival factions. For most, it was a night of celebration.

for you, however, the night had started with tension.

you stood near a column, eyes scanning the room for your friends, your jaw clenched. bellamy had gotten into an argument with murphy earlier, and the atmosphere between the group had become charged with frustration. It wasn’t unusual for them to bicker, but tonight was important—for lexa, for the peace you’d fought for—and you hated the idea of anything ruining it.

you finally spotted them near the bar: bellamy nursing a drink, his face dark with frustration, and murphy leaning against the counter, his smirk the same as ever.

octavia stood nearby, arms crossed as she watched the two of them with narrowed eyes, while raven, leaning casually against the bar with niylah beside her, looked like she was debating whether to intervene.

you felt a knot of anxiety twist in your stomach. You could feel lexa approaching you before you saw her. Turning slightly, you met lexa’s calm gaze, the commander’s green dress flowing as she moved.

“You’re upset,”

lexa observed, her voice low but certain.

you sighed, not wanting to bring lexa into the drama.

“It’s nothing. Just bellamy and murphy being… themselves.”

lexa‘s gaze followed your line of sight to the group by the bar.

“What happened?”

you hesitated.

“murphy made a joke. A bad one. bellamy didn’t take it well, and now the two of them are acting like they’re ready to explode.”

lexa considered this for a moment, her expression neutral but thoughtful.

“Do you want me to intervene?”

you shook your head quickly.

“no, I’ll handle it. This is your night, lexa. You shouldn’t have to deal with—”