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Lena was handling it.
Lena had been handling it since the moment Kara moved into the house across the road from her in eighth grade. Ever since the sure but timid smile Kara had directed her way when she caught Lena watching curiously from her bedroom window.
To clarify, Lena was handling her crush on Kara. And by handling, what she means is that she has essentially avoided any and all interactions with Kara for four years. It worked quite well. Honestly, she even surprised herself with the success of her plan, which was generally just: keep your head down and avoid eye contact at all costs.
Kara still smiled at her in the hallways though, and waved at her from across the road in the morning as she happily walked her way to the bus stop and Lena got into the car her mother bought her as a bribe to go to another one of her terrible galas. The smiles were what kept the crush alive. Lena knows she could have snuffed the whole thing out ages ago if Kara’s grin didn’t make her chest feel like it was going to cave in.
And yet she made no effort to stop receiving them.
(Sometimes, when her brain hadn’t quite woken up yet, she even found herself smiling back).
She had smiled this morning. It was nothing. It was just being friendly and not making Kara feel stupid for always wasting her smiles on Lena. But then there was something. That something being that it was raining, and Lena wasn’t some kind of heartless monster, and Kara had pouted when she looked at the sky, getting that crinkle she always had in chemistry when she was frustrated. So Lena caved. In this case, caved means that she swore under her breath and then shouted across the street for Kara to get in the car.
And now Kara Danvers was in her car and she was trying to handle it.
She caught sight of her hands trembling on the wheel. She was semi handling it.
She could feel her heart pounding in her stomach. She was not handling it.
“Thank you for this. Usually I would walk to the bus stop but obviously it’s raining really badly, and I would’ve been soaked by the time I got there, and then probably damp for the rest of the day, and I have to do that routine in front of the school later for the assem-“
“It’s not a problem.” That was the other thing. The other issue with the whole I may have a crush on Kara Danvers thing – she was cheerleader. She was honestly a cheerleader and it made sense. It made more sense than anything else in your life that smiley, excitable Kara Danvers would be a cheerleader. It definitely made more sense than Lena having a crush on one, especially a smiley, excitable one, except maybe it made total sense because Kara’s smile seemed like the moment honest thing in Lena’s life.
(Also Lena was incredibly gay and Kara was incredibly pretty).
“Really though, thank you. You really saved my ass.”
“Kara Danvers curses?” Lena quips, completely unsure where her sudden burst of confidence has come from. She’s composed sure. She wasn’t likely to start crazily rambling out loud. She could push through the ten minute journey to school but she didn’t expect to be able to actually push some semblance of a joke out of her mouth, especially not one that made Kara blush. Kara blushing is adorable. Kara blushing being the result of something Lena said is quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to her. It’s arguably one of the prettiest things she’s ever seen.
“Oh, well,” Kara stutters, nervously pushing her glasses up her nose and Lena has to remind herself to actually watch the road. “Sometimes. Not really. Only when I’m nervous.”
“Nervous?” Lena asks because that’s all she can focus on. Kara is nervous. Why is Kara nervous? Is it because of Lena, or the performance she has to do later, or maybe Lena’s driving too fast, or she’s not ready for the biology test you have today, or because of Lena? Kara could know. Lena’s staring throughout the years could definitely have been a little more subtle, and there was that one time Lena tripped over her garbage can because Kara had gone for a run in a crop top and holy shit.
“How’d your history project go?” Kara deflects and somehow Lena thinks she genuinely believes that it’s a more suitable line of conversation. Only, they’re not in the same history class and, having generally avoided conversations with Kara until this day, there’s no way Lena could have told her about her history project before just now - which she decidedly did not.
“What?”
“Your history project? I saw you carrying your model the other day. It looked really good actually, much better than mine did. Probably because I forgot I had to do it until the night before when Winn texted me in a panic because he was having last minute troubles,” Kara rambles.
“Oh, it went well,” Lena says offhandedly, letting it go, mostly just trying not to dwell on the fact that Kara had watched her intently enough one day to know she had a project. She can’t think of a single reason as to why that would be relevant to her life, a single reason why Kara would even care if she did well in some random project.
“You probably do great in everything ‘cause you’re great and stuff.” She’s great? Lena’s great? Kara just said that she was great. Kara thinks that she’s great.
“You’re great at things too. I mean I can’t even begin to comprehend choreographed dance moves, or honestly spontaneous dance moves for that matter.” Ballroom, Lena could do. Or, at least, she wasn’t the worst at it - she had been to enough fancy parties to stop stepping on people’s feet. But anything that required genuine rhythm or any sense of loosening up your body? Forget about it.
“I could teach you.” Yes because Lena would learn so much as she tried not to fall on her face because she was too busy thinking about how beautiful Kara was.
“I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for that.”
“Well, we could- Oh, we’re here.” Kara turns to Lena, opens her mouth a few times like she wants to say something else before she chickens out with a sigh and sinking shoulders. Lena berates herself for genuinely gasping under her breath when Kara unclips her seatbelt to hug Lena across the console. She forgets to hug back. She’s so busy thinking that Kara smells like raspberries that she doesn’t hug back, and then Kara is pulling away with another blush that’s paired with the slight downturn of her lips, and Lena should have hugged back. “Err, thanks again, Lena.”
“You’re welcome, Kara.” And then she’s gone.
There’s a small possibility that Lena chants stupid over and over again as she bashes her head against the steering wheel. She wants to scream. Thankfully no one would ever be able to guess that when she walks through the hallways, head held high (being a Luthor always provided her with a perfect everything’s fine face if nothing else).
But still...
She actually spoke to Kara Danvers today.
And she totally blew it.
Lena figured that would be it.
Once would be enough. Once would be all she would get. She could live with talking to Kara this one time and then just revert back to her usual awkward morning smiles and casual denial that she felt anything real towards Kara. That would be enough. That had always been enough. Except, apparently Kara didn’t think that was enough and things were escalating.
By escalating, she means that Kara had smiled at her seven times today. Not that she was counting. But she also was definitely counting. And it was making her go a little insane, although the majority of her insanity could probably be chalked up to the fact that Kara had touched her.
Again.
Not like touched. But there had been a definite hand running gently down her arm when they passed each other in the supply closet, and now they were supposed to be completing an experiment but Lena could still feel it. She could still feel the warm of Kara’s hand sliding across her skin. She could still feel the goose bumps that threatened to arise at the contact. She could still feel her body betraying her mind.
Somehow, in spite of her mind being far more focused on how great Kara’s legs looked, and her eyes being very much dedicated to the area, Lena isn’t the first one to cause an accident. Though, in the scheme of things, perhaps accident wasn’t the most appropriate of terms. One minute Lena was bending down to eye level to measure and then the next there came a lewd comment from across the room that was quickly accompanied by the smell of burning and a panicked shout.
It’s not until she turns around that Lena finds Kara throwing a wink her way before conjuring up an incredibly convincing apology about her clumsiness to her partner (how she got stuck with Maxwell Lord is still beyond Lena). She can’t stop smiling for the remainder of the period. Kara had done that for her, all because Lord had said something about her, or about her ass to be more precise.
Kara stood up for her.
She’s still smiling when she finds herself in the library after school, attempting to convince herself that Kara did it out of kindness and not out of some kind of obligation because Lena gave her a ride. She’s halfway through a mental debate on what the truth of the matter is when she hears someone delicately clear their throat from beside her. Usually her immediate response would be a glare. No. Usually she wouldn’t even put her book down to see who was trying to gather her attention. But Kara smiled at her today, and she still feels a little like she’s floating, so she turns politely to the sound.
“Hi, Lena. Would you mind if I sit with you? It’s just I’m better at working when I’m with someone and the rest of my friends are off doing something stupid and I noticed you sitting here alone and I thought maybe you would like some company too?” Kara. Kara wants to sit with her. She’s going to have to sit with Kara because how on earth is she supposed to say no to that face. Not that she wouldn’t want to sit with her. It’s just that she’s never going to be able to get her work done when she knows that Kara’s right there. Sitting. Reading. In Lena’s immediate vicinity.
God she was a joke.
“Sure.” Real eloquent, Lena. At least it was an actual word. At least it resulted in Kara smiling thankfully and dropping to the seat beside her without a degree of grace. It’s weird to watch someone who always seemed so cheerful, so put together, slump into a chair like they’ve just been through the worst day of their life. Although, truthfully, she can’t have had too great a day considering how much shouting the ‘accidental’ fire had resulted in. She’s not sure it quite warrants the amount of deep sighs Kara is producing though.
Lena looks up from her book to study Kara carefully. She had a crinkle between her eyes. The crinkle. The same one she had when she was frustrated, or thinking too hard, and wow she really has spent far too much time analysing the many faces of Kara Danvers.
“Are you alright, Kara?” She asks lowly, keeping her eyes trained on the book in front of her. She doesn’t trust herself to look. Not yet. Not whilst Kara is indefinitely pushing up her glasses nervously in that adorable way she always does. She’s already letting herself get too deep into this; she doesn’t need to accelerate the fall any further.
“Yeah, it’s just, I- err- I actually came to ask- to ask you a question.” Lena closes her book silently, giving Kara her full attention. Kara remains silent. Lena can’t help the small laugh that echoes under her breath as she lifts her brow in question.
“Would you like to ask it now?” And there went the famed adjustment of the glasses.
Shit.
“Yes! I mean, yeah. I was wondering if you’d consider being my new lab partner, since we’re in the same class and all. And also because I, as you probably noticed, accidentally set Lord on fire yesterday and he’s refusing to work with me anymore.”
“Accidentally?” Lena smirks. Kara had surely put on quite the show with her profuse apologies and the incredibly convincing grimace she placed on her face. But Lena had seen the wink and heard the laughter that rumbled beneath the gentle oops. Lena had seen the smile that Kara directed at her, the one that said she was sorry for the words even though they weren’t her own, that she certainly was not sorry about setting Lord’s shirt alight.
“Total accident.” Kara smirks.
“I would be honoured.” Lena turns the conversation back to the matter at hand, not trusting herself to watch the devious look on Kara’s face for much longer - it’s rather enchanting to see such a look on someone usually so pure.
“Yeah?” Kara asks. She sounds so shocked, so genuinely confused as to why Lena would agree to such a thing. It’s charming. The sheer amount of hope in her voice is charming. It’s the excitement she exudes that makes Lena laugh in a vain attempt to lessen the weight in her chest. It doesn’t work. As Kara grins at Lena’s laughter she only finds herself in more trouble, only finds her palms sweating, and her mouth itching to admit that Kara’s smile could arguably be the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
It doesn’t.
Thankfully.
“Yes, Kara,” Lena assures, watching Kara release a deep breath in relief. It’s almost ridiculous that Kara honestly believed someone would say no to her. Even someone who hadn’t harboured a crush on her for four years would struggle to say no to her baby blue eyes and mesmerising smile. It would be like kicking a puppy. An extremely adorable and sweet puppy.
“Ok, cool. I promise not to set you on fire and whatnot.”Maybe she should have thought more closely about that considering she’s fairly sure this wasn’t the first accident Kara has caused in the lab. In fact, she’s completely sure that just last week Kara had spilt acid all over her workbench, and subsequently onto her own lap. Lena remembers because she was wearing that incredible new low-cut leather top she bought to spite Lillian.
“I appreciate that.” She really would enjoy not being maimed. She just perhaps would enjoy Kara’s company that little bit more - especially since it came with the bonus that she would no longer have to be partners with Veronica Sinclair. God, this was a great day.
“So, I’ll probably see you tomorrow then?” Kara stands.
“I’m sure you will.” Kara smiles and spins dramatically before she begins to walk off. Lena finds herself admiring the view for a moment until her gaze falls to the seat beside her. “Kara, your bag!” She calls, already laughing at the I’m an idiot look on Kara’s face as she laughs self deprecatingly and jogs back.
“Silly me,” Kara says offhandedly, smiling one last time and slinking away. Lena stares at the seat Kara vacated for five whole minutes before she realises she’s an idiot. She’s going to have to work alongside Kara for the rest of the year. With chemicals. Chemicals that could cause actual bodily harm.
This could only mean trouble.
It takes two days for it to come about. Two days of Lena freaking out about something so small as being Kara’s lab partner. It’s pathetic. She tells herself that it’s pathetic time and again, and yet, logic does nothing to quell the harsh beat of her heart when she thinks about it, or helps her to sleep at night instead of just staring at her ceiling thinking that she could have avoided all this. She should have avoided all this.
She was handling it.
Now? Not so much.
At first it seems fine. The experiment goes well enough. She isn’t hurt. Kara isn’t hurt. No one seems to notice that she spends far more time getting distracted by the way the sunlight catches on Kara’s hair than actually paying any attention to the task at hand. Not that it would cause her any problems. She’s never really struggled with science. Ultimately, even when nothing else in her life made sense science always did – in a strange way it was always there for her, much more so than her family. So not paying attention was fine, and she was yet to put her foot in her mouth, and with only ten minutes left she honestly believed that it would all be alright. That she would get through this no worse for wear, with all of her secrets intact.
She’s wrong.
Of course she’s wrong.
In the end, trouble does come, just not quite in the way Lena expects. It begins when Kara makes a joke, one which only results in Lena staring blankly at her because she has honestly no idea what’s going on. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s barely even a joke only Kara is laughing grandly until she’s just shouting “how have you not seen Ghostbusters?!” Apparently it’s quite outrageous. Outrageous enough that Kara demands Lena watch it and that she watch it with her.
Kara wants Lena to watch a film with her.
In her home.
Just the two of them.
She tries to say no. She really does. She mentally plans excuse after excuse, each one greater than the last if she does say so herself, but that’s irrelevant because, no matter how hard she tries, the words no or I can’t or perhaps another time never quite manage to come out of her mouth. They don’t even rest on her tongue. Instead she finds herself nodding along and saying yes when she opens her mouth to say no. She’s so weak. One stupid (charming) pout and suddenly she’s putty in Kara’s hands being moulded towards her imminent doom.
That’s how she ends up in Kara’s house. That’s how she ends up in Kara’s bedroom. Her bedroom. It suits Kara, she thinks numbly. The blue of her walls perfectly matches the shade of her eyes. The photos lining the walls made perfect sense if you’d seen the way she walked the hallways at school - smiling and greeting almost everyone along the way. Even the poster of the periodic table made sense after Lena had experienced life as Kara’s lab partner, had seen the perfect notes in her books and the impressive grades she received.
So this was Kara’s bedroom. Lena was in Kara’s bedroom and she was being handed clothes. Why was she being handed clothes? Why wasn’t she listening? She should be both panicking and listening.
“Are you going to change?” Was she going to-?
“Yes. Of course. I will... get changed.” Into Kara’s clothes. Lena was going to get into Kara’s clothes. The clothes that Kara wore and that would indefinitely smell like Kara - that insane mix of fruit and sunshine that she was so addicted to.
Oh, and then to top it all off, she was going to have to try to concentrate on something other than the fact that the warmth running along her skin was a direct response to Kara. To being close enough to see the scar on her forehead. To being close enough to hear the steady rhythm of her breath. To being close enough to know the intricacies of her smell.
She should have prepared herself better.
She should also maybe do something other than blankly stare at the clothes in her hands like she’s never dressed herself before in her life.
“Oh, gosh, I’m being an idiot, aren’t I? The bathroom is across the hall.” Right. Bathroom. Clothes. Lena wills her feet to move, begs her lips to smile thankfully Kara’s way before she disappears out of her room. It’s not until she’s in the safety of the bathroom that she actually takes the time to examine the clothes in her hands. She’s thankful she hadn’t done so with Kara by her side when she audibly gasps.
Kara’s sweatshirt. Her cheerleading sweatshirt. The one with her name on it - Danvers written in capital letters right across the back, very obviously written across the back.
She’s too busy wondering what it all means to question putting on the pants with space ships on them. She’s too busy thinking that maybe it’s a thing. It has to be a thing. People don’t just give random people sweatshirts that have their name on it – that was a dating thing, a back off she’s visibly mine thing. Except maybe Kara Danvers did that. Kara Danvers who was probably ditzy enough to not even realise the sweatshirt she pulled out of her closet at random had her name on it. Kara Danvers who seemed to be oblivious to all the flirting people did with her and probably never even questioned that a sweatshirt could have a double meaning.
Lena puts it on.
It’s warm. It’s warm and it smells like freshly baked cookies, and flowers, and Kara, and Lena’s fallen so deep into this that she’s not quite sure she’ll ever be able to pull herself back out. She was ignoring it. Ignoring it had been a perfectly acceptable plan but now she has Kara’s name blazoned on her back and it’s all she can think about.
Well, that, and the fact that she was undoubtedly going to fall in love with Kara Danvers.
Her feet numbly carry her back across the hallway. She pointedly ignores the way Kara’s eyes catch on her when she slips back into her room. She spends most of her energy attempting to look anywhere other than the bare expanse of Kara’s legs where she had decided shorts were the way to go. It’s all going quite well until Kara pats the spot beside her where she’s lounging on the bed.
“You’re in for a wild ride.” That was an unexpected sentence that sends a completely expected rush through Lena’s body. Kara is on her bed, and she’s saying things like that, and it’s almost ridiculous to expect Lena’s mind to not go to particular places. Said places being Kara beneath her, pliable and breathless. Kara calling her name. Actually just kissing Kara in the first place.
Lena sits down carefully, purposefully avoiding any contact, and placing her attention fully on the screen in front of her. There’s a chance she maybe gets a little distracted by Kara’s face a few times, but it’s only three or so times and honestly that’s an achievement in her book. She even manages to keep her thoughts on track throughout the movie. That is, until the end when she turns to tell Kara that perhaps she was right to be outraged that Lena hadn’t seen it previously, and found her soundly asleep beside her.
Kara awake was something to behold but Kara asleep. Kara asleep was oddly breathtaking, which really spoke wonders about how far Lena was into this because there was definitely a slight pool of drool next to her mouth, and there was no doubt in Lena’s mind that she could hear small snores coming from the girl beside her. And it was adorable. Completely and utterly adorable.
Lena stares for longer than she should. It’s nice knowing she can look without fear of being caught, nice to be able to indulge herself fully for once until she realises how ridiculous it all is, how terribly stupid it would be to allow herself to get caught up in the moment. She makes the rash decision to remove Kara’s glasses before she leaves and if her hands run a little too softly across Kara’s cheeks during the action then so be it.
She’s in the midst of climbing off the bed when she hears the sheets rustle, feels a warm hand wrap around her wrist tugging her back onto the bed with surprising strength. She’s barely laid down for a second when Kara curls up at her side, rests her head solidly on Lena’s chest like it’s something that happens all the time. Lena wonders if Kara hears the catch in her breath, if she’s aware of how fast Lena’s heart is beating under her head, if she knows that with one single movement she had managed to uproot Lena’s entire world.
“Stay,” Kara whispers. Lena opens her mouth to protest before Kara continues on with, “it’s late and it’s dark out.”
“Kara I live across the road,” Lena laughs. It would take her less than two minutes to be back in her own home (maybe three if she wasted some time lingering in Kara’s doorway like some love sick puppy). Kara doesn’t shift at her words. If anything she cuddles closer, still half in the clutches of sleep as she continues her attempt to convince Lena to stay.
“It’s a sketchy neighbourhood.” Lena chuckles again. She knows that it isn’t. They both know that it isn’t. They live in arguably one of the safest places in town - the worst thing that had ever happened was the time the old lady down the road, who was essentially blind, decided that driving would be a great idea and ended up running over some little kid’s cat.
Still, Lena doesn’t move. She simply settles further into Kara’s embrace and resigns herself to her fate. It takes almost an hour of staring at the ceiling for Lena to fall asleep, but when she does it’s to the steady beat of Kara’s heart and the warmth of their bodies intermingling.
Lena leaves before Kara wakes up. She tells herself it’s because she needs time to get ready for school. She tells herself it’s to assure her family that she isn’t dead just yet. She tells herself it’s for logical reasons. She knows it’s because she can’t quite bring herself to look Kara in the eye, especially not after she awoke to find the two of them far more tangled together than when they went to sleep. She always found the idea of not knowing where you ended and someone else began ludicrous, but it made sense as she opened her eyes to Kara’s peaceful face and a numb arm.
She casually forgets to leave Kara’s clothes. She thought she was sneaky about it. It would be an easy mistake to make, walking out in them and forgetting that they weren’t hers, and surely Kara wouldn’t mind considering she had multiple sweatshirts (Lena had definitely seen an exact replica sitting on Kara’s desk chair). She’s fairly sure that she’s gotten away with it until she’s getting books from her locker and Kara bounds up to her excitedly, wordlessly taking the books from her so that Lena could rummage with both hands.
“Thank you,” Lena says mindlessly, going through a mental checklist of what else she requires.
“Don’t mention it, although you could come to the game tonight to watch me cheer - thank me properly.” Lena will deny to her dying breath that she smashes her head against the side of her locker, though she does, in fact, smash her head against the wall of her locker.
“You want me to come watch you?” She questions incredulously. She doesn’t take her head from her locker, not quite trusting herself to meet Kara’s eye. What does this mean? Isn’t this more of a relationship thing, or at least a friend type thing? Surely Kara had other friends to go watch her. Other friends. They were friends. Oh God, she was friends with Kara Danvers and she’d barely even noticed it.
“Yes, is that weird?” Lena can hear the nerves in Kara’s voice; can see her feet shifting nervously from under the door of her locker. She smiles softly to herself before finally coming out from her hiding place and shutting her locker door. Lena doesn’t want Kara to feel bad for her awkwardness.
“No, that isn’t weird.” Kara releases a breath, her shoulder sagging in relief. “I’m sure I could make some time in my busy schedule to watch you hop around with pompoms.” Kara scoffs at the quip, puffing out her chest in defiance as Lena continues to smirk at her.
“It’s more than that, Lena.”
“Well, I’m sure I’ll find out.”
“I’m sure you will,” Kara asserts, walking off quickly before something seemingly occurs to her and she pivots on the spot. “Oh and Lena? Wear the sweatshirt.” One last wink and she continues her exit. Well that could have been worse. It also surely could have been better in that, you know; Kara could not have found out and then could subsequently not have called her out on it. That would have been great.
She shouldn’t go. She shouldn’t put herself in any more awkward and emotionally dangerous situations. But she can imagine Kara’s face. The way she might anxiously look out for her. The disappointment when Lena never appears. The upset that her new friend let her down. Lena doesn’t want that. No one could possibly want that. That’s why she finds herself, clad in Kara’s sweatshirt, sitting on the bleachers with a bunch of people that she generally mocks in her spare time.
It all seems worth it when Kara catches sight of her and immediately abandons whatever conversation she was having without question. The whispered questions and watchful eyes don’t feel as uncomfortable when Kara pulls her into her arms tightly.
“You came.” Lena feels the words against her neck, feels the way Kara’s lips moves carefully to form them, feels the low heat of Kara’s breath trailing along her skin. It’s addicting. So addicting that she feels the honestly trickling from her mouth without hesitation.
“Well you asked.” And maybe she’s giving too much away but she’s already got Kara’s name openly printed on her back and perhaps it would do her some good to stop lying to herself for two seconds.
“Wait for me after,” Kara pleads and she does. Partially because she has the obvious inability to say no to Kara, and partially because, after watching Kara prance about in that spectacular outfit for so long, she doesn’t quite trust her legs to hold her weight, let alone remember how to walk. It’s worth it though, in the end, when Kara smiles at her like the sun and drops to sit beside her.
“We’re going out to eat.” Kara points over to the last group of people milling about. She recognises James Olsen, Lucy Lane and that boy that Kara seems to always be with - Winn, she thinks his name is, the one who hacked the school network that time on a dare (Lena will admit that it was rather impressive actually).
“Well, have fun,” she says evenly and suddenly Kara is laughing at her.
“No, I meant... you should come.” Oh.
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“I’m asking you to come.” Lena knew that her words from earlier would get thrown back at her at some point, she just hadn’t expected that point to be so soon.
“Okay.”
Lena knows why she goes. Looking around the table they sit at she knows that it’s the reason half the other people at the table showed up too. It’s definitely the same reason that has that douche bag Mike appearing out of nowhere to hit on Kara.
She tries not to think about it.
(She thinks about it).
Lena spends the entire night watching Kara laugh, and smile, and tells jokes that have the whole table clutching their sides with laughter. She spends the night valiantly attempting to ignore the warmth that blossoms in her chest every time the smile is directed at her, or when Kara makes a joke that only Lena understands.
Lena spends the whole night thinking about how Kara took her hand the second she slid into the seat beside her, like she knew exactly how nervous Lena felt around these people that she had barely interacted with before. Kara never lets go, even as she struggles to eat her burger with one hand. It gives Lena hope. Hope that she squashes down the moment it arises because it’s only going to cause trouble.
They’re friends.
Friends hold hands.
Friends comfort one another.
She gets that. She’s grateful that she gets that and she will continue to be grateful that she gets that. She’s not going to impose her feelings on Kara when, after tonight, she’s entirely too sure that she wouldn’t be the first of Kara’s friends to have done so. Kara deserves more. She can bury this lov- crush with everything that she has.
She owes Kara that much.
Lena isn’t avoiding Kara per se. She’s just maybe, sort of, going completely out of her way to lessen interactions between the two of them. So in essence, yes it is avoidance, but it could also be argued that it’s simply self preservation and an attempt to lessen the grip Kara has on her heart.
It’s the smart play.
It’s also how she finds herself in the art room during lunch when she would usually be in the library, or eating lunch with Kara if she had been convincing enough that day (in other words - if Kara had decided to seek her out in the library that day instead of leaving her to her peaceful bubble).
She knows Kara won’t look there, or, she thought she knew that Kara wouldn’t look there. But apparently she’s wrong because Kara was standing in the doorway with a thankful smile like she was happy to have finally found Lena and this wasn’t supposed to happen. Kara wasn’t supposed to come here. This was her safe space. Her hidden zone. The place that she could be open with herself about her feelings and not have them fuck everything up.
In other words, the place that she could paint Kara’s face onto a giant canvas and then hide it like it never happened. Except it did happen. She had painted Kara. She had painted Kara’s eyes - she’d almost managed to perfectly capture the way sunlight reflects in them, the way they always have a tinge of sadness in them no matter how bright her smile. She had painted her lips curved into a grand smile, soft pinks and pearly whites bright against soft skin. She had painted her hair - golden curls framing her face instead of expertly braided or pinned in a bun, the way Lena had only ever seen Kara once. The way she had dreamed about the night before.
But Lena had painted Kara, and she hadn’t yet managed to hide it, or burn it, or do something else with it that wasn’t have it open for viewing on her easel. An easel that Kara was steadily making her way towards. How was Lena going to stop her coming closer? How was Lena going to explain this away? How was Lena supposed to look Kara in the eye after she discovered the painting and perhaps finally clued in to the rest of it?
“You know, this was the last place I expected to find you.” That would explain how she had managed to stay hidden until the final ten minutes. Lena expected Kara herself hadn’t spent much time in the room if the way she was looking around in wonder was anything to go by. But then her eyes were landing on Lena. The paintbrush in her hand. The stray paint on her hands. The canvas in front of her. “Oh my gosh, are you painting? Can I see it?”
“Oh, it’s not finished and it also isn’t that good, so may-“ She’s such an idiot. She should have kept it to sketchbooks, or doodles, or at least just painted it in the safety of her own bedroom. She doesn’t want to make Kara feel awkward. She doesn’t want to push Kara into avoiding her; even if she had just herself spent her entire lunch period trying to hide from the girl.
This was such a mess.
She was such a mess.
“Nonsense, Lena. I’m sure it’s amazing. You’re good at, like, everything.” Evidently she wasn’t so great at regulating her heartbeat around Kara. Apparently she was also quite poor at not being a total idiot and getting herself into these situations, or getting herself out them either because Kara’s already at her side.
Kara halts the moment she sends Lena one last smile and turns towards her painting. Lena watches Kara’s body tense up, her shoulders draw tighter, her arms flex grandly as her hands clasp into fists. Lena’s not quite sure what to think as she hears the shaky breaths Kara emits, watches the way her hand trembles as her fingertips reach out as if to touch the rendition of her face before falling short and dropping loudly back against her leg.
“Kara, I-“ Lena begins.
“It’s me.” It isn’t accusatory. If anything, it’s rather breathless. She reaches out again this time, allowing her fingers to fall gently upon the canvas. She looks awed, and truthfully this was never what Lena expected. She expected curious eyes, and unspoken questions, and perhaps a heated spoken question or two. She never expected awe. She never expected speechless staring.
Still she attempts to talk her way out of it. Of course, she tries to get herself out of it. Except she doesn’t actually talk at all, she mainly just stares at Kara, parting her lips every other second or so as her mind scrambles for some kind of excuse. She needs an excuse. She should just play it off as something casual - she was just practising her strokes, or she wanted to experiment with new colours, or something else dumb but good enough for Kara to maybe stop looking at the halo of light Lena had painted around her head.
“It’s beautiful,” Kara whispers and Lena stops trying to lie. She might as well just embrace it at this point. Kara didn’t seem angry. She wasn’t watching Lena like she had done something weird. She could be honest. She should just be honest this one time.
“I just painted what I saw,” Lena finds herself admitting and maybe she wasn’t so bad at all this after all because Kara is smiling softly at her. Lena expects her to look away, expects her to break the gaze they had formed. She doesn’t. Kara continues to stare, her eyes flickering to examine Lena’s face. She feels her breath catch in her throat when Kara looks at her lips. She can’t help the sudden need to moisten her lips, the need to dart her tongue along a painted red mouth. She’s sure she must have imagined the way Kara’s eyes darken at the action, the same way it had to be her mind conjuring up the lack of space between them.
There was no way Kara was leaning in.
But Kara was, sort of, leaning in?
The bell rings. She barely takes note of the way it chimes around them but Kara does. Kara snaps out of the trance so quickly that she finds her body fumbling to stay on its own two feet as she smashes into various art supplies. At any other time Lena would have laughed. She doesn’t. She’s not sure that she can with her heart clogging up her throat and her tongue tied in her mouth.
“I better get to class. Math calls and all that.” Kara steals one last glance before dashing out of the room and Lena doesn’t have the heart to point out that they’re in the same class.
(She doesn’t have the courage to catch the eyes that watch her curiously the whole time either).
Apparently Kara is as skilled at ignoring situations as Lena - that is if the fact that they hadn’t talked about the painting, and the maybe, almost, something that came after, counted for anything. Or maybe she just didn’t think it was a situation. Maybe Lena had looked too much into the maybe almost after the painting and it wasn’t really a thing. She could have been making it a thing. It wouldn’t be that outlandish an idea to assume that Lena simply saw what she wanted to see, especially considering she’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Kara since basically the first time she laid eyes on her.
So she was seeing things that weren’t there.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
That’s what she told herself when Kara’s smiles lingered a little too long in the three hours it took them to complete their joint project. That’s what she told herself when she found herself invited out with Kara and her friends and Kara held her hand the entire time. That’s what she told herself when Kara gave her half her donut at lunch without caring about the utter disbelief on the faces around them. That’s what she told herself when Kara called her at three in the morning because she couldn’t sleep and dozed off listening to Lena’s voice gently echo down the line.
Lena assumes that’s what’s happening now. It’s the only reason she bothers to rouse herself enough to pick up her phone. She definitely wouldn’t be pulling herself out of her slumber this late for anyone else. She picks up the phone to the muffled sounds of a party first - the very one Kara had invited her to earlier in the week, the one she had practically begged her to attend, the one she was steadfastly avoiding. Then she hears Kara’s nonsensical rambling stammered between stuttered breaths and panicked gasps.
“Kara?”
“The sound is too much, Lena. I can’t- I need-“ Lena’s on her feet before she even has the thought. Her coat. Her shoes. Her keys. She doesn’t care if anyone knows she has pyjamas with clouds over them. She doesn’t care if anyone questions her sudden appearance. She cares about Kara.
“I’m coming to get you. It’s at the Lane’s right?” She’s already in her car, key in the ignition, preparing herself to pull off her drive.
“Yeah.” Kara sounds so broken, so scared, so completely unlike herself that Lena feels the fear bubbling through her veins. She needs her to be alright. She needs her to be alright. She needs her to be alright.
“Just stay put and I’ll be right there.” She pulls the phone away from her ear slightly, readies herself to hang up and be on her way before she hears Kara’s muffled voice calling her name over the phone. She presses it against her ear without question, lowly murmurs that she’s still there to assuage the panic clear in Kara’s tone.
“Wait, can you just, leave it on speaker maybe. The sound of your breathing makes me feel calm,” Kara admits quietly. Lena doesn’t allow herself the time to question just what that might mean. She finds herself agreeing without question as she puts her phone on speaker and places it in her lap, pulling off of her drive immediately.
She doesn’t speak directly to Kara again until she gets there. She mumbles about how her day was, and what she can see as she drives through the moonlit streets. She confesses to things she’s never confessed to before, menial things, like the time she drank the last of Lillian’s favourite tea and then expertly placed the blame on Lex (he hadn’t gotten in trouble of course, he was the golden boy, but that had been the point really - with Lex under the gun there would be no shots fired). She talks about her favourite colours, and the best burger she ever had at that one diner in town that everyone thought for sure was haunted.
She talks about everything.
She talks about nothing.
And then she’s there, pushing through throngs of people, ignoring the various catcalls until she finds Kara. She’s sitting in a closet upstairs, arms wrapped so tightly around herself Lena’s almost sure she’ll hear the sound of breaking bones in no time. Still, she doesn’t question climbing inside and wrapping herself around Kara who turns into her embrace the moment it’s offered. She’s right to think it’s strong. She thinks she should feel suffocated, enclosed, trapped. Instead she feels warm. Relaxed. She hopes Kara feels the same. All she wants is to ease whatever it is making Kara shake in her arms, making her clutch at Lena like she’s the only thing rooting her to this moment, making her lips tremble with something akin to fear.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you. Always.” She hopes it the right thing to say. She thinks that it just might be as Kara’s grip loosens and she finds the girl pushing herself to her feet and offering her hand to Lena. She still looks afraid. She still flinches with every shout that sounds above the ruckus. She’s still trembling but it eases slightly with each passing moment that Lena steadily holds her hand.
“Nice pyjamas,” Kara jokes, tugging on the fabric on offer. Lena swats her away with a glare that softens stupidly quickly to a smile when Kara pouts. She rolls her eyes, mainly at her own inability to stay strong around a pretty girl, before tugging gently on Kara’s hand and pulling her towards the exit.
She leaves her grip loose at first, allowing Kara the ability to pull away if she so pleases, but she only holds tighter, interlocks her fingers with Lena’s wordlessly. They’re all the way at the door before they’re stopped and Lena really should have expected this. She should have prepared for this - even if that preparation only consisted of whipping up a couple of worthy insults to throw.
“Hey Danvers, where you going? We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.” Lena hates Mike. It’s a strong word. Fitting though to describe the red that flashes through her vision when he says that, when he implies something entirely different. She wonders if Kara even notices.
“I don’t think she wants to talk to you,” Lena growls and regrets appearing so affected when he turns his ‘charming’ smirk on her.
“Oh feisty one. I could push a threesome I guess, but only if you ask nicely.” This was not going to end well. There was absolutely no chance in hell that this was going to end well. Lena only hopes it’ll end slightly in her favour. That would be grand.
“I’m asking you nicely to please get out of our way before I do something we’ll both regret.” It’s a threat. A thinly veiled threat. They both know it. Everyone at the party who has suddenly decided this was the most entertaining thing going on knows it. Hell, even oblivious Kara has to have clicked at this point.
“Try me, Luthor,” he smirks and maybe it’s the smug look on his face, or the fact that she knows he wants Kara, but Lena is using her free hand to punch. Hard. Like she draws blood from his nose hard. Like he stumbles backwards hard. She vaguely hears cheering but she’s already pulling Kara out the door, already driving home and getting out of her car without a word, attempting to walk towards her house without much thought before Kara clasps at her wrist and tugs her the opposite way.
She doesn’t question being taken to the Danver’s home, simply lets herself be led by a light but persistent touch and questioning eyes. The silence remains as Kara rummages through her freezer and victoriously emerges with a bag of peas. She breaks the silence with a hiss as the cold hits her knuckles. It seems to be the final crack in the dam because suddenly Kara’s admonishing her.
“You didn’t have to punch him.” Lena begs to differ.
“He’s lucky that’s all I did.” What she really wanted to do was smash his face against a wall until he couldn’t smirk anymore but that might have been overkill (read: that definitely would have been overkill). It’s just that he always acted like Kara was a thing to be owned, possessed. A pretty thing to hang on his arm and buff up his ego. Kara was her own woman. She could make her own decisions, just like Lena had made the decision to punch Mike in the face. She only hoped it might warn him off Kara for a little while because she, perhaps, also got a little jealous whenever they interacted, which she will admit was stupid but it still always crept up on her.
“I mean, sure he was a little crass but it’s Mike.”
“Is ‘it’s Mike’ an excuse to push people in sex nowadays because I must have missed the memo.” She hates the way Kara says it likes it’s a valid answer. She hates the way he’s convinced people he’s this good guy when all he really does is the bare minimum. So, yeah, maybe Mike wasn’t actively homophobic like some other guys on the football team, doesn’t mean he should suddenly get away with whatever he wants. And anyway, Lena’s sure he managed to convince some girl or another to clean up his nose. Plus, considering how drunk everyone at the party seemed, he could spin any story about what really happened that he liked and have people believe it.
If anything she did him a favour by punching him.
“You could’ve just glared or something.”
“Sure I could have but I wanted to punch him in the face.” Kara softens at Lena’s gasp after she presses a little too hard on her knuckles. Lena is startled by the blue of Kara’s eyes when she feels fingers under her chin tilting her head. She’d been actively avoiding Kara’s gaze since the punch - partially because she didn’t want to be scolded, and partially because she knows the fire in her eyes would give too much away, would be an obvious indicator of the exact reason she wanted to punch him so much.
“Why?” Kara implores earnestly and Lena melts in turn.
“Because he was trying to force himself on you like he always does.” Because he never took no for answer. Because he acted like the world owed him something. Because he once told Lena he could turn her straight. Because she’d overheard way too many of the comments he made about Kara.
“Like he always does?” Kara seems genuinely confused, like she honestly did believe that everything Mike did was harmless, like she was truthfully blind to the way he abused her never ending kindness. It only makes Lena that much more glad that she punched him. It only makes Lena wish that she had taken advantage of the moment and punched him twice. Maybe three times. A fourth just for luck.
“He’s always making comments, or doing that annoying leer thing, or making more comments and, yeah, obviously you’re beautiful but that’s not all you are.” Kara was smart, far more so than she gave herself credit for, enough so that she, like Lena, barely seemed to pay attention in class half the time and yet never failed to grasp advanced science. Kara was kind, and trusting, and made Lean feel like she had a place to belong, somewhere to land if all else went wrong.
“You think I’m beautiful,” Kara questions quietly and Lena can only laugh at the absurdity of the disbelief. Kara was more than beautiful; she was the first flower that bloomed in spring, the last long day of summer, a warm cup of coffee in the winter. Kara was what metaphors were made for. Kara was the first person to make Lena have these kinds of thoughts, the first person who made her want to say these things aloud, made her not care how ridiculous it might sound.
“I’m trying to tell you you’re more than your looks and that’s what you focus on?”
“You’re beautifuller. More beautiful? I think you’re pretty.” Kara’s fingers drift over her wrist. Lena stops. Stares. Wills herself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In- she stutters when she shifts her gaze to catch Kara’s once again.
She’s thinks she knows what’s happening. Kara’s eyes drift to her lips. She’s fairly sure she knows what’s happening. Kara bites her lip. She hopes she knows what’s happening. Kara leans closer. She definitely knows what’s happening.
Lena doesn’t move. She lets Kara drift closer, lets Kara’s hand rest lightly on her cheek, lets their lips pause an inch away from one another. Kara doesn’t move. Lena knows that she’s waiting for her. Lena knows that Kara wants to be sure, wants to know that Lena wants this, wants to let it be Lena’s decision as much as her own.
Lena decides.
Draws closer.
Watches, mesmerised, as Kara’s eyes drift shut.
“Kara?” They startle at the sound of Eliza’s voice, the spell broken as quick as it began.
“I’d better go. I’m glad you’re safe.” Lena offers a smile and then she’s running, and hiding under her covers like she used to when she was first adopted by the Luthor’s and still terribly afraid of what monsters might lurk in the dark because Kara almost kissed her.
She almost kissed her.
Lena’s hiding.
She’s also scared.
Those two facts might be completely and totally related to one another.
She knows what was going to happen last night. She was going to kiss Kara. She couldn’t tell herself that she wasn’t. Well, actually, she had spent a good few hours trying to convince herself that she wasn’t but it hadn’t quite worked out. Mostly because her skin stills burns from Kara’s touch and her lips still tingle from her breath, and she stupidly put on Kara’s sweatshirt and now everything smells like her.
It was going to happen, she knows that much. What she doesn’t know is why Kara would want to kiss her. Was it as simple as a ‘thank you for punching Mike for me’? Thank you for picking me up? Thank you for telling me I’m beautiful? Lena wants it to mean more. She wants it to mean everything. She wants it to mean that Kara can’t think a single thought without it bumping into some piece of Lena in her mind. She wants it to mean that Kara can still feel the remnants of Lena’s warmth wrapped around her in that closet. She wants it to mean that when Kara closes her eyes it’s Lena that she sees.
She wants all consuming.
She wants love.
She doesn’t want assumed obligation.
So she’s hiding, except maybe not so much hiding because her room isn’t exactly the last place someone would look for her at the weekend. It’s more like, utilising the walls of her house as her own personal barricades. Lena figures that if Kara cares she’ll use some of her incessant energy to bash down her door, or her smile to charm her way in past her mother.
And if she ignores it...
If Kara ignores it then Lena knows it means more to her than it did to Kara and she can start sorting her crap out and figuring out a way to be friends with Kara without constantly craving something more. She thinks it’s a good plan. She thinks it’s the smart plan. She didn’t, however, think that she would hear a ceaseless knocking on her window and see Kara’s face peering through the glass (but that much is evident from the way she tumbles off her bed at the startling sound).
“Kara? What are you doing here? How did you even get to up here?” There was no tree by her window. Had Kara actually scaled the side of her house, without any support? She really had some odd skills and she could have just knocked. Although, avoiding bumping into Lillian was a plan that Lena too would have followed.
“That’s not important, though; could I maybe come in because I might fall?” Lena scrambles to the window, shoving it open and chuckling as Kara tumbles through gracelessly. It’s a weird mix knowing Kara aptly managed to get to her window without harming herself and yet fell through it so haphazardly. It’s a Kara mix though she supposes. Happy but sad. Smart but ditzy. Graceful but clumsy.
(Kara was a mystery wrapped in a riddle.
And Lena loved it).
“Is there a reason you’re climbing through my window at this time?” One in the morning. It had taken Kara less than twenty-four hours to appear which had to mean something good, right? Right?
“Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?”
“What, no, I’m not-“ Lena was stuttering. She was stuttering. She hadn’t stuttered since the very first time she spoke to Kara. Kara had been living across the street for a week before she approached Lena. It wasn’t anything big. All she did was ask Lena her favourite colour. It had been instinct to reply blue as she stared into the other girl’s eyes. Her explanation of why hadn’t come out so smoothly though - she stuttered through excuse after excuse so that the truth wouldn’t come out. She was never completely sure why Kara asked, but she saw her the next day with blue paint, the same shade as the sky, the same shade that still coloured Kara’s walls to this day.
“You’re getting very bad at lying Lena Luthor,” Kara accuses, stepping closer. Lena really wishes she were wrong. She was getting bad at lying, or, at least, she was getting bad at lying to Kara. But maybe she was always bad at lying to Kara; she didn’t exactly have any basis to decide when the lack of lying ability began. She imagines the truth was probably that she stopped being able to lie to Kara the moment the girl smiled at her.
“I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” Lena tries for levity. Jokes are safe. Innuendos will make Kara blush, push up her glasses, make her change the subject to something easier, something that wouldn’t have Lena feeling like a fish out of water.
“Is it because we almost kissed?” Lena chokes on air, wonders when she became the outwardly awkward one, wonders when exactly the point was when she stopped being able to handle it.
“So we’re just going straight in then?”
“I need to know because I can’t stop thinking about kissing you, and I think you want to kiss me too, and honestly I’ve been waiting since I moved here to kiss you, so can you just kiss me or turn me down already because I’m going insane.” Kara steps closer. Pauses. Takes another step. Pauses again. Lena waits for her to draw closer again but Kara isn’t moving. She’s firmly rooted to the spot. Three steps and Lena would be in her orbit. Three steps and Lena can have what she wants.
“You wanted to kiss me since you moved here?” Lena takes a step, admires the hollow of Kara’s throat as she swallows harshly. It makes her feel better to know she isn’t the only one whose nerves are on the fritz. It makes her feel better to know that she affects Kara as much as Kara affects her.
“Lena, I’ve liked you since you smiled at me from your window, even if you did proceed to pretend I didn’t exist for the next four years.” Lena did do that, didn’t she? Maybe not her finest hour. Also arguably not her worst hour either considering her tendency for panicked avoidance.
“I wasn’t pretending you didn’t exist, I was...” Lena trails off.
“You were what?” Kara prods. To hell with it. Kara already said it. Kara already said that she liked her. Lena could give her the same courtesy. Lena could give herself that much.
“I don’t know, keeping myself safe, adamantly trying to pretend that I haven’t been half in love with you since you smiled at me.” It feels good. Kara smiling at her like she singlehandedly hung the moon in the sky feels good. Taking another step closer to Kara feels good. Knowing that she’s one more step away feels good.
“So we’re both idiots,” Kara laughs.
“It would seem so.”
“We’re still being idiots.” Kara looks down at the ground for a second, almost as though she’s gathering up her courage, and Lena can’t imagine what else she could possibly come out with that would require any more bravery than she had already shown (honestly Lena was still incredibly impressed about the house scaling).
“How’s that?”
“You still haven’t kissed me yet.” Oh. Lena grins. Takes a literal step. Takes a more figurative one as she places her lips against Kara’s. It’s not much at first - it’s still timid, and unsure, and she’s still finding her footing with the whole admitting feelings thing - but then Kara’s arms wrap around her neck and she finds her own wrapping around Kara’s waist in kind, pulling her closer as their lips lock more purposefully. Kara kisses the way Lena expected her too, with tender fervour and timid passion.
It feels good.
It feels amazing.
And honestly the only thing Lena regrets is that she didn’t do this sooner.
So much sooner.