you sat alone in the open field, watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting shades of gold and crimson over the sky. Your knees were drawn to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you sat in silence. You could still feel the sting of your last words, the intensity of the fight lingering in the air around you.

you closed your eyes, letting the whispers of the wind drown out the echo of your voices.

“clarke, you don’t understand. I have to protect my people,”

lexa had said, her voice as firm as the steel in her eyes.

“Your people, your people,”

you repeated bitterly, your fists clenched.

“What about us, lexa? What about me? Do I even matter to you?”

“Of course, you matter,”

lexa replied, a flash of vulnerability breaking through her calm mask.

“But there are things bigger than us, clarke. I can’t just abandon my duties because—”

“Because what?”

you cut her off.

“Because you think you’re invincible? Because you think that your people are the only ones who matter?”

lexa had looked away, her jaw tightening, avoiding your gaze. And that hurt you more than you could express. It was as if lexa had built walls so high and so thick that you could no longer see the person she had once loved beyond them.

“I don’t have a choice,”

lexa whispered finally, her tone edged with frustration.

“There’s always a choice,”

you had snapped back, your voice louder than you intended.

“You just chose them over me.”

with that, you had stormed out, your chest tight with a mix of anger and heartache.

now, sitting alone in the quiet field, you took a shaky breath, watching the last rays of sunlight melt into the horizon. A small part of you had hoped that lexa would come after you, that she’d say something—anything—to show that you weren’t the only one feeling this. But Lexa hadn’t come.

the sky darkened, and you felt a familiar ache settle in your heart. Maybe you were both too stubborn, or maybe you were just too different. But you sat there, alone with nothing but your thoughts.