The music still pulsed faintly in the air as you and Lexa stumbled through the halls of the grand tower, laughter slipping from your lips like a secret. The gala had been… intense. Celebrating another fragile peace between your people, toasting to survival, to alliances that felt as fleeting as the wine in your cups.

And you had drunk a lot.

So had Lexa.

Which was probably why you were here, hands brushing too often, gazes lingering too long, drowning in the space between you.

“This is a bad idea,”

You murmured, though you didn’t move away.

Lexa’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk.

“It wouldn’t be the first one we’ve had.”

You exhaled a breathy laugh, tipping your head back against the cool stone wall.

“You’re not wrong.”

Maybe it was the wine, or the months of tension, or the way Lexa was looking at you like you were something to be conquered and worshipped all at once—whatever it was, you were done pretending.

You surged forward, catching Lexa’s lips with your own.

Lexa made a quiet, startled sound before melting into you, hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against her. The kiss was messy, urgent, all teeth and need, as if you had been waiting for this moment far too long. You let yourself drown in it, in the way Lexa’s body pressed against yours, the heat between you turning unbearable.

Somehow, you made it to Lexa’s chambers, clothes disappearing in between heated kisses, whispered names, desperate hands.

And for one night—one reckless, drunken night—nothing else mattered.

The morning light was unforgiving. Beside you, Lexa was already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, braiding a section of her hair with slow, deliberate movements.

You swallowed.

“So…”

Lexa turned slightly, green eyes unreadable.

“So.”

When Lexa turned to leave, you exhaled and flopped back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

“Sure, it was just the wine,”

You whispered. But somehow, it didn’t feel that simple.