Work Header

Neon Hearts

Work Text:

Moodboard link x


“Hey, Lexa.”  Anya leans against the doorframe, arms crossed beneath her chest. The corners of her lips are curved up in a sharp smirk that’s far too smug for Lexa’s liking. “So, guess what just happened.”

“What?” says Lexa suspiciously.

“Well, first, a very pretty girl just wandered into the gym, and apparently she knows you.” Her smirk just widens when Lexa arches a brow. “Or knows of you, anyway. She comes in and finds me and turns out she knows of me, too. She asks me if I’m your sister.”

Lexa frowns, mentally carding through a list of possible girls it could be. Honestly, she hadn’t even been with anyone in months, and her last serious relationship was Costia well over a year ago. “Who was it?”

“She said her name was Clarke Griffin.”

Clarke Griffin. A girl named Clarke. Lexa stares blankly at Anya. She has no idea who this girl is.

“So this Clarke introduces herself to me and starts telling me all about the past month, how she’s been traveling around and this and that. Now, you’ll never believe what she says next.” Lexa waits with narrowed eyes that don’t betray how perplexed she is, and Anya pauses for dramatic effect before continuing. “Basically, she spends the next five minutes telling me how great I am. That I’m the best sister ever, an amazing person, a badass with a big ego and an even bigger heart, and all this stuff that apparently you’d never dare say to my face.”

Lexa blanches, mouth opening and closing. Anya sports a full-blown grin now.

“You know, I would question it, except she gave some pretty specific examples of my awesomeness. Like the time I kicked Cage Wallace in the balls during high school when he grabbed your ass. And the time I saved you from drowning at the lake during summer camp.”

“How—who— why— “ Lexa doesn’t know which is worse; Anya’s air of insufferable smugness, or the fact that someone had clearly somehow accessed her online diary— AKA Tumblr— figured out who she is, and decided to ruin her life by going around spilling the beans.

“Yeah, that’s what I wondered too. So I asked her a few questions to get to the bottom of things. Turns out, and this is the real kicker, she’s been referring to you in past tense the whole time, and apparently thinks that you’re dead.” Lexa can do little more than goggle at Anya by this point. “Now, I’m not particularly concerned considering I just saw you sweating your ass off in the locker room less than ten minutes beforehand, but this girl seems to sincerely believe that you’re dead as a doornail, like she’s legitimately starting to tear up. And apparently I’m not the first person she’s talked to about you.”

Lexa actually kinda wants to die now. “Oh God.”

“Yep.” Anya nods, thoroughly enjoying herself. “She spoke to Costia, and even hunted down dear old dad.”

Lexa grabs the back of the chair before her to brace herself, head spinning as mortification floods her face. “Oh God. What happened?”

Anya shrugs. “Guess she told Costia sorry like you wanted, and ripped Dad up one side and down the other for being a deadbeat. She said it was terrible with Costia because she realized halfway through their conversation that Costia didn’t know you’d died, but Costia left before she could tell her. Weirded out.” Anya makes a face as though to say, and can you blame her? “When she talked to Dad, he ended up freaking out when he put two and two together and asked her if you were okay, she was uncomfortable but couldn’t do much else besides say yeah you— according to her— died, and he freaked out. Like literally started bawling. Man, I would have paid to see that.” Anya sighs wistfully, but Lexa can see the tension in her jaw, the pain beneath her anger. Anya shakes it off and moves on before Lexa can comment on it. “Makes sense why he’s been blowing up our phones lately. Yet the asshole’s still too cheap to buy a plane ticket out. Or too broke, bet he lost his money gambling again.”

“Anya,” Lexa interrupts, dragging a hand through her hair in agitation. “I’m so confused. What the hell—”

“Okay so long story short, this girl just got a heart transplant, and she seems to think it’s your heart.”

“My heart?” Lexa presses a hand to her chest without thinking about it, wide-eyed and lost. “She… wait. So this person thinks I’m dead and that I was, what, her organ donor?”

“Yep. Guess some wires were crossed. Figures there’d be some type of clerical mix-up that lands you a hot blonde who’s half in love with you even though she’s never even actually met you.”

Lexa ignores all the things that pique her interest and instead says, “I still don’t understand.”

“Well, she was interested in the owner of the heart that saved her life so she looked you up. She found your Facebook, along with some ill-timed statuses.”

Jesus. Lexa knows exactly what Anya is talking about there. There was the post Anya herself made, lamenting the loss of her sister— though this Clarke wouldn’t have known that Anya was only making a shitpost about Lexa overexerting herself at the gym in a vain attempt to keep up with Anya. Then there was the post Lincoln made, just being dramatic since he had to run a marathon he didn’t feel prepared for. And then Indra’s post regarding the tragedy of Lexa’s fit at a new restaurant they tried…though that was really about Lexa accidentally ingesting a chili sauce far too hot for her to handle. And then there was the post Lexa’s grandmother tagged her in asking people to pray for her…but that was just her grandma being her extra self while Lexa studied for her grad finals.

From an outsider’s perspective— and one who can’t see much considering the privacy settings- Lexa can understand how it would all support the idea of Lexa’s untimely demise. But Jesus, how much detective sleuthing did this girl go to, to find Lexa’s friends and family and actually speak to them on her dead behalf?

“And then she found your Tumblr,” continues Anya, oblivious to Lexa’s inner turmoil and far too amused by this entire situation, “Interesting to know that Miss I-Like-My-Privacy and Feelings-Are-Weakness happens to basically keep a diary of all her innermost thoughts on the web where the entire world can see. Lamenting about your ex, venting about Dad, being sappy as hell about your siblings and your friends…I mean, I always knew you were a big softie inside, but it’s nice to see you letting others in on it too.”

“Tumblr is supposed to be anonymous,” groans Lexa, scrubbing her hands over her blushing face. “I don’t know how she even found mine.”

“She said you had like, a bucket list? Of stuff you wanted to do. She’s been marking them off one by one over the past couple weeks. She’s about halfway through. She’s already booked a plane ticket to Greece.”

Lexa lowers her hand and just stares at Anya, mulling it over as she grabs a spare bit of paper off her desk and starts crumpling it up in her hands, “So…apologizing to Costia, griping Dad out, giving you information you really didn’t need to hear,” she emphasizes her point by chucking the wad of paper at Anya’s head; Anya doesn’t even blink as she swats it away, “traveling the world… all because of me?”

“I guess learning about you made quite the impression on her,” says Anya lightly, her nonchalance completely at odds with the knowing glint in her eyes. “Honestly, Lexa, you should have seen her moony heart eyes while she talked about you. It was disgusting.”

Lexa shakes her head, frowning and trying to move past what Anya is insinuating. “Is she still here? Did you set her straight?”

“Nothing seemed very straight about her.” Lexa deadpans and Anya basks before taking pity on her. “Nope, I didn’t. She left.”

“You let her leave?” Lexa shouts, voice growing hoarse with the sudden increase in volume. Even Anya looks mildly alarmed for a moment. “Anya, why would you do that? She— “

“Calm down,” says Anya, voice still full of amusement. “Look, my first thought was to not tell you anything and then set you up on a blind date with this girl so I could go watch the whole craziness ensue because that would be hilarious. But surprise surprise, she actually had some sappy shit to say that got to me so I’ve decided to be a good sister and let you in on it. I asked Clarke if she wanted to grab a bite to eat with me and Lincoln tomorrow so we could reminisce about you. She accepted, mostly because I think she found it sketchy that I was trying so hard not to laugh through this whole conversation instead of sobbing about how much I missed you.” Anya pulls a post-it note out of her pocket and shoves it into Lexa’s hands. “Here you go.”

Lexa looks askance at the scrawl. It states a time and place. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Show up, eat dinner with a pretty girl, and show her all the ways you’re decidedly not dead?” Anya’s already turned and headed out the door, sparing a half-assed wave over her shoulder as she goes, leaving Lexa standing there in her office at the gym, note clenched in her hand and heart pounding.


When Anya said she was hot, that was what Lexa expected. A hot girl.

She did not expect an actual goddess sitting at the table munching on breadsticks and blessing all the mortals around her with her mere presence. It’s enough to make Lexa panic and stop in her tracks.

I can’t do this, she thinks, backing up and nearly bumping into a waiter carrying heavy food-ladled trays. She turns toward the door just as her phone vibrates, and she fumbles for it in her back pocket.

Anya: Don’t be a pussy, you can do this

Well damn, is she that transparent?

Okay. Anya has a point. Lexa’s already here. And honestly, this girl expects her to be dead so the bar is already pretty low. Still, she quickly darts into the bathroom and figures due to her earliness, she has about ten minutes before Clarke starts wondering if she’s been stood up.

Lexa doesn’t feel at all prepared for this. If Anya had just given her some intel…except Anya pretty much already told her everything she knows. Well, maybe Lexa can find some intel of her own. After all, it wasn’t exactly fair this girl knew so much about her (aside from the fact that she was alive, of course) while Lexa knew virtually nothing about her. 

She pulls open her phone and searches the name Clarke Griffin. Fortunately there aren’t very many accounts, and it’s simple to find the lone profile featuring a blonde woman. 

Lexa spends the next ten minutes drowning herself in this stranger’s online life. She knows social media is not by any means a good indicator of who a person is, but something about this girl is entrancing; the warmth in her smile, her funny, snarky comments, the photo documentation of her sweet gestures (baking minion shaped cupcakes for her godson, donating incredible paintings to the local library, driving a couple hundred miles to surprise her parents with an anniversary party). Lexa’s heart has skipped a beat more than once and by the time she stands up, she feels ready.

She leaves the bathroom and determinedly marches across the restaurant, making a beeline straight for Clarke, who seems to sense someone staring her down as they approach and looks up. When her gaze falls on Lexa, her mouth drops open, and just like that most of Lexa’s nerves melt away.

Clarke gapes at her, blue eyes wide with shock. Lexa bites back the urge to flee and plops herself down in the chair across from her.

“So,” begins Lexa. She grabs a breadstick and gives Clarke a crooked smile. “Heard you’ve been looking for me.”