Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The island looked like it had been plucked from a dream and dropped into the middle of the ocean. Palm trees lined the crystal-clear shoreline, and the waves kissed the sand in a slow, lazy rhythm. The villa was a masterpiece of modern luxury—sleek white architecture with open-air lounges, a sprawling pool glinting under the tropical sun, and every inch of the space designed to seduce.

The air was heavy with heat, desire, and promise.

The first woman to arrive was Luna. She stepped barefoot onto the wooden path leading into the villa, wearing a pale blue bikini that hugged her body like a second skin. Her long, dark hair flowed freely down her back, a silver nose ring glinting in the sunlight. Tattoos decorated her caramel skin—waves wrapping around her ribs, celestial symbols trailing down her spine, and a delicate vine that wound along her forearm. She moved like she was floating, as if the earth bent slightly beneath her feet. Luna took a long breath of island air, her smile soft and knowing.

“I’m all about energy,” she said in her confessional later, sitting cross-legged on a cushion. “If your vibe is off, I’ll know in seconds. But if it’s right? Well… I’ll feel it everywhere.”

She was halfway through sipping from a glass of chilled coconut water when the next arrival caught her eye.

Raven strutted up the same path like she owned it. Her black sunglasses were pushed high on her nose, her red bikini bold and barely-there. A single braid framed one side of her head, the rest of her hair styled into a loose wave. She had tattoos as well—just a few visible: a tiny flame inked behind her ear, and the edge of a snake coiled beneath her left hip. Raven was pure swagger. She pulled off her glasses with a smirk when she saw Luna.

“You look like a walking dream,” Raven said, sauntering over. “Spiritual? Or just hot?”

Luna’s lips curled. “Can’t it be both?”

They clinked glasses and laughed, a spark already glowing between them.

Then came Ontari. She entered like a shot of adrenaline—bold, cocky, magnetic. Her neon green bikini was paired with a gold body chain that dangled perfectly around her toned stomach. Her hair was tied into a high, messy ponytail, and her eyes scanned the villa like a predator entering a new hunting ground. Her lips curled into a wicked grin as she spotted the first two women lounging near the pool.

“I make out with girls for cardio,” she’d said earlier in her confessional, tongue between her teeth. “And baby, I’m about to run a damn marathon.”

She plopped onto a lounge chair near Luna and Raven, flashing a playful wink. “Are we doing shots or playing strip ping-pong first?”

Not long after, the energy shifted again. Anya arrived in silent power, the kind that made everyone straighten up without understanding why. She was tall and poised, her sleek black bikini matched with a dark green sarong that brushed against her ankles. Her tattoos were bold and symmetrical—tribal lines of spears and wolves marked her arms and back. Her eyes were sharp and unreadable, taking in everything with quick, efficient judgment.

Ontari practically licked her lips at the sight.

“You look like you’d ruin my life,” Ontari said, unabashed.

Anya’s gaze didn’t flinch. “You’d never survive the experience.”

Friction sparked instantly. Ontari leaned in closer, clearly intrigued. Luna laughed quietly. Raven watched with one brow raised.

Moments later, Octavia made her entrance—noisy, chaotic, a firecracker with legs. She wore a burnt orange bikini and, somehow, combat boots. Her damp hair fell in tousled waves over her shoulders. Tattoos peaked out from beneath her suit—a raven on her hipbone, tally marks slashed across her ribs, like stories carved into her skin. She didn’t hesitate for a second—running forward, she cannonballed into the pool, soaking the rest of the women.

“Party’s officially started!” she shouted as she emerged, hair slicked back, laughing.

Her energy filled the space instantly. Anya narrowed her eyes, already deciding she didn’t trust her. Octavia noticed and smirked, clearly ready to make her a personal challenge.

Next to arrive was Niylah, and she was the calm after the storm. In contrast to the others, she moved with quiet assurance. Her maroon bikini wrapped around her like silk, and her dark eyes carried warmth, patience, and hidden intensity. She smiled at everyone she passed—soft but unreadable. She settled next to Ontari, who looked her up and down with hungry curiosity.

“You look like peace,” Ontari whispered, leaning in.

Niylah tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “Try me.”

Then came Echo. She walked through the villa entrance like she’d just walked off a villain origin story—tall, striking, and dressed in a slate gray bikini with clean, sharp edges. Her black hair was slicked back, her expression cold and calculated. She didn’t stop to admire the view. She didn’t need to.

“I’m not here to fall in love,” she said later, staring down the camera lens. “But if someone wants to fall for me? I won’t stop them.”

She found a seat alone—until Hope arrived.

Hope glided in with sunshine in her step and a glimmer in her eye. She wore a pastel pink bikini, daisy-shaped earrings, and an open, playful smile. Her hair bounced with every step. She looked like sweetness and softness wrapped in skin, but her eyes carried something sharp—like she knew exactly how to play.

“You look like the villain,” she said brightly to Echo.

“You look like trouble,” Echo replied, instantly suspicious.

Hope just grinned. “You’ll make an exception.”

Then came Lexa.

Her arrival silenced everything.

Lexa stepped onto the patio wearing a black bikini that clung to her lean, sculpted body. Her posture was flawless, almost royal. Her tattoos were unlike the others—geometric designs, runes on her forearm, and a stylized tree inked on her ribcage. She moved like a panther—silent, contained, dangerous. The other girls watched her like a rare beast entering their territory.

In her confessional, Lexa barely spoke. “I observe. I choose. When I do? It’s with purpose.”

She took a seat near the edge of the pool, drink untouched, eyes tracking the interactions. She was cool, composed—until the final girl arrived.

And then Clarke walked in.

Time seemed to halt. Clarke Griffin wore a white bikini with gold accents, perfectly framing her sun-kissed curves. A delicate gold waist chain glimmered against her hips as she walked, each step purposeful and unbothered. Her blonde waves were wind-swept perfection, and her ice-blue eyes struck like lightning—bold, beautiful, and impossible to ignore.

Lexa’s breath hitched. Her fingers curled tighter around her glass. Every part of Clarke—the curve of her hips, the sway of her walk, the smirk on her lips—lit something primal in Lexa. But it was the eyes that undid her.

“She walked in,” Lexa whispered in her confessional. “And everything else just disappeared.”

Niylah watched from the pool, stunned silent. Her mouth parted slightly, and for the first time since arriving, she had no words.

Clarke took it all in—the stares, the tension, the silence—and smirked. She flipped her hair off one shoulder and casually joined the group, tossing her bag to the side.

“I’m Clarke,” she said. “Looks like I made it just in time.”

Later, the girls mingled in the main lounge—champagne flowing, laughter rising, flirtation thick in the air. Luna and Clarke sat together, their legs barely touching.

“I love your tattoos,” Clarke said softly, fingers brushing along Luna’s inked arm.

“Thanks,” Luna murmured. “Yours?”

Clarke shook her head. “No ink. Yet.”

Across the room, Lexa watched them with quiet intensity. Her fingers absently traced the rune on her own arm.

Anya and Octavia were mid-argument over a game of pool—sarcastic insults traded with grins that suggested something more. Raven had moved closer to Luna again, though Hope kept pulling her attention elsewhere. Ontari had draped herself across Niylah’s chair, and Echo, though quiet, didn’t flinch when Hope touched her hand.

The tension was everywhere. Every glance. Every laugh. Every near-touch.

But none of them knew what was coming.

Because tomorrow, they’d discover the truth: no kissing. No touching. No sex. No exceptions.

And with desire already igniting like wildfire, the rules would be their greatest challenge yet.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the villa. Fairy lights flickered on overhead, and the pool glowed a soft aquamarine. Laughter echoed over the music as glasses clinked and the night took on a new rhythm—looser, flirtier, filled with potential.

The ten women were now gathered in clusters—lounging on pool chairs, perching on bar stools, dancing barefoot on the tile floors. Champagne flowed freely. Skin glistened with sweat and salt. Eyes lingered too long. Touches started to last a little too long. Everything was beginning to blur into seduction.

Clarke leaned back against the bar, sipping from a chilled flute of prosecco. She was radiant—her skin still glowing from the sun, her golden waist chain drawing attention with every movement. Niylah approached her again, more confidently this time. She held two glasses in hand.

“Didn’t want you to run dry,” Niylah said, offering her one.

Clarke accepted it with a smile that was pure flirtation. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“You like me?” Niylah teased, leaning just a little closer.

Clarke tilted her head, the light catching in her icy-blue eyes. “Let’s just say… I’m interested.”

Not far off, Lexa watched from one of the cushioned poolside beds, legs crossed, posture calm—but her gaze was sharp. Hope was next to her, curled up like a cat, eyes mischievous as she studied Lexa’s profile.

“You always this intense?” Hope asked, sipping from a glass of rosé.

Lexa didn’t look at her, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Only when something’s worth focusing on.”

Hope leaned in closer, deliberately brushing her thigh against Lexa’s. “So, what are you focusing on right now?”

Lexa glanced at her. Her green eyes held steady. “You’re a distraction.”

“Good,” Hope whispered, smirking. “I love being a problem.”

A few feet away, Ontari had pulled Niylah aside earlier for a private conversation, but Clarke had stolen her attention entirely. She now watched the two of them with narrowed eyes and growing annoyance. Octavia and Anya were locked in a fierce debate over body shots—Anya refusing, Octavia pushing—and Luna and Raven were sitting at the edge of the pool, their toes grazing the water, deep in conversation about tattoos, energy, and sex dreams.

Back at the bar, Clarke and Niylah were magnetic. Niylah leaned one elbow on the marble, smiling with quiet intensity, while Clarke’s fingers toyed with the rim of her glass.

“You keep looking at me like you want to say something else,” Clarke said, voice low.

“I do,” Niylah replied.

“Then say it.”

“I want to kiss you.”

The music pulsed around them. The heat was thick. Clarke glanced around—saw that the others were watching. She didn’t care. She smirked.

“So kiss me.”

And Niylah did.

Their lips met in a soft but electric kiss that lingered just a beat too long. A few girls gasped. Raven let out a loud, “Oh shit!” while Luna giggled, and Octavia whooped and shouted, “We have our first kiss, bitches!”

Lexa’s jaw tightened, just barely, her fingers gripping her glass. She didn’t blink, didn’t react—except for the subtle tick of muscle at her temple. Her chest felt tight, like someone had reached in and twisted something.

She wanted to be the one to kiss Clarke. She should have been. And watching it happen in front of everyone made her want to storm into the ocean and scream. Or kiss Clarke even harder in front of everyone. But Lexa didn’t show emotion. That was her rule. So she turned her head just enough to hide the clenching of her jaw.

Hope watched her carefully.

“Jealousy looks good on you,” she whispered.

Lexa didn’t respond. But her eyes flicked back to Clarke, who was now smiling—flushed and radiant—Niylah’s arm still around her waist.

Then the music abruptly cut off. The lights dimmed. A strange chime echoed through the villa. The girls froze.

“What the hell?” Raven asked, standing.

From the far corner of the living room, a white orb lit up. The screen mounted on the wall came to life. A familiar voice rang out:

ALLIE (V.O.)
“Hello, ladies.”

Half of them screamed. Octavia nearly dropped her drink.

ALLIE (V.O.)
“Welcome to your retreat. You’ve all been chosen because of your commitment to temptation… and your total inability to form meaningful connections.”

“What?” Clarke whispered, blinking.

ALLIE (V.O.)
“But here’s the twist—you’re not here for a summer fling. You’re here to learn to form deeper emotional bonds. That’s why there’s one simple rule…”

The girls all leaned in.

ALLIE (V.O.)
“No kissing.
No heavy petting.
No sexual activity of any kind.
If you break the rules, you will lose money from the prize fund.”

There was silence.

Then chaos.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Raven said, loudest.

Clarke’s smile dropped. Niylah immediately pulled her hand back.

“Wait, like… we just kissed?” Clarke asked, eyes wide. “Does that count already?!”

ALLIE (V.O.)
“No, Clarke. That kiss didn’t cost anything because you didn’t know the rules, but it would’ve cost you three thousand dollars.”

More screaming. Raven stormed across the patio, pacing. Ontari cursed under her breath, tugging at her ponytail.

“Three grand? For one kiss?” Echo muttered, stone-faced.

Octavia flopped back on a lounge chair. “Oh, this is bullshit.”

Anya folded her arms, her jaw clenched. “What kind of sadistic dating show is this?”

Clarke laughed once—but it was short and dry. “You’ve gotta be joking.”

Lexa, still seated, looked deadly calm—but inside she was unraveling. The kiss didn’t cost money. She hadn’t even gotten her chance. The heat she felt for Clarke twisted into frustration.

Hope groaned and grabbed a pillow to scream into. “NO SEX? For how long?!”

ALLIE (V.O.)
“Four weeks.”

“Four weeks?” Ontari shouted. “I’ll die.”

Luna was the only one who didn’t speak. She stared at the stars, hands in her lap, exhaling slowly.

Niylah glanced at Clarke, visibly guilty. “That was… worth it,” she said quietly.

Clarke looked like she wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.

Raven poured herself a double shot. “I need tequila. I need a priest. I need help.”

The screen went dark. Allie’s voice faded. The silence afterward was heavy.

They’d come here expecting to chase pleasure. To flirt and fuck and play.

Instead, they were being told to connect. To open up. To feel.

And if they couldn’t?

They’d lose everything.

The main bedroom was massive, open-concept, and warm with soft golden lights. Ten beds were spread out across the room in pairs—each one plush, covered in crisp white sheets, draped in sheer curtains for some semblance of privacy. But the space was intimate. Too intimate. Especially for a group of women just told they couldn’t do the one thing they all wanted to.

Bags were scattered across the floor. Some girls wandered in stunned silence. Others were still processing the rules with wide eyes and twitching mouths.

“I feel like I just got dumped by someone I haven’t even kissed yet,” Raven muttered, unzipping her suitcase with aggression.

“This is a form of psychological warfare,” Ontari added, throwing her pillow dramatically onto a bed.

Hope flopped face-first onto the mattress closest to the windows. “I’m filing a human rights violation.”

The mood lightened slightly as they all began to move around the room, claiming beds.

“Alright,” Luna said calmly, her voice like cool water. “Let’s not all panic. We just need to choose who we’re sleeping next to tonight.”

Clarke raised a brow. “You say that like it’s not the most sexually loaded decision we’ve ever made.”

“I mean,” Hope grinned, “it is like a glorified cuddle orgy, but without the fun parts.”

They started pairing off—some more confident than others.

Luna and Raven naturally ended up together, exchanging smirks as they tossed their bags side by side. Their energy was smooth and simmering, neither one in a rush, but both clearly intrigued.

Ontari, of course, called out across the room, “Niylah, you and me, right?”

But Niylah glanced at Clarke, hesitated for a long beat, and said, “Actually, I think I’ll take the floor. Maybe stay solo tonight.”

Ontari raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue—clearly clocking Clarke as a threat.

Octavia picked the bed next to Anya without hesitation, practically dragging her bag across the floor. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten our body shot debate,” she teased.

Anya quirked a brow. “Good. I like a girl with a memory.”

Echo was halfway into a bed on her own when Hope appeared beside her.

“You look lonely,” Hope said, dropping her hoodie onto the sheets. “Don’t worry, I’m great at resisting temptation. Mostly.”

Echo looked at her for a long second, then nodded. “As long as you don’t cuddle me in your sleep.”

“No promises.”

Lexa stood beside her own untouched bed, eyeing the chaos, calculating.

That’s when Clarke approached.

“I could share with you,” Clarke offered, casually, but her tone held weight. Her eyes were lit with challenge. “Unless you’re afraid of temptation.”

Lexa looked at her for a heartbeat—then to Niylah, then back.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she said, calm and cold.

But just as Clarke took a step closer, Hope called out from her bed across the room.

“Hey Clarke, if you want to snuggle with someone who won’t combust, I’ve got space.”

Clarke smirked. “Appreciate the offer. But I think I’ll bunk with Niylah on the floor. It’s safer.”

Lexa didn’t show it—but inside, the fire raged hotter.

Later that night, the girls gathered again on the plush couches in the lounge. Most wore silky sleep sets, crop tops, or oversized shirts—comfort wrapped in temptation. Glasses of wine and mocktails circled as they tried to blow off steam without combusting.

Octavia threw a marshmallow at Raven. “How many rules do you think we’ll break before sunrise?”

Raven caught it mid-air and popped it into her mouth. “Two, minimum. Three if I sleepwalk into Luna’s pussy.”

“Wait, so—” Hope leaned forward, her curls falling into her face, “is kissing off-limits even if it’s, like, a soft kiss? Like a ‘hi I missed you’ kiss?”

“It’s a sex-free zone, not a nun retreat,” Echo replied flatly. “But yeah, no kissing means no kissing.”

“I miss kissing and it’s been two hours,” Luna said dreamily, sipping from a coconut cup.

“Lexa,” Clarke called across the room. “What about you? Think you’ll survive without a little tongue?”

The room went quiet.

Lexa was lounging on one side of the couch, legs stretched out, drink untouched. She looked at Clarke without flinching. Her voice was low and even.

“I think some people rely too much on kissing to communicate interest.”

“Oh?” Clarke raised a brow, half-laughing. “And what do you do, then? Telepathy?”

Lexa didn’t answer. But the tension between them stretched like a live wire.

Anya cut in. “The question isn’t who’s going to break the rule first. It’s who’s going to break it on purpose.”

“I mean, Clarke already did,” Octavia said, grinning. “Three thousand almost gone with one kiss.”

“It was a good kiss,” Clarke fired back, unfazed. “Expensive, but worth it.”

Niylah, next to her, smiled with pride. “We didn’t know the rules. It doesn’t count as breaking them. Technically.”

“Technically,” Lexa murmured, finishing her drink.

Luna got up, walked over to the Bluetooth speaker, and hit play. Music started again—something slow and sensual.

“Let’s at least enjoy the night before the full breakdown starts,” she said.

A few girls got up to dance—Hope pulling Echo reluctantly to her feet, Octavia trying to get Anya to move with her.

Clarke stayed on the couch beside Niylah, their thighs brushing.

Lexa’s eyes flicked to them again. The gold waist chain shimmered in the low light, and Clarke’s mouth was pink and still slightly swollen from earlier. Lexa could still feel the ghost of what should have happened—if she’d kissed her first.

“You good?” Raven asked, plopping down beside her.

Lexa didn’t answer.

Across the room, Hope spun into Echo’s arms. “We’re gonna burn this place down,” she whispered.

Echo caught her, barely moving, but didn’t let go.

The villa was quiet laughter, music, sweat, and desire—all wrapped in restraint. Like a bomb waiting to go off.

The sun had barely risen, casting soft gold through the sheer curtains of the bedroom. The rest of the villa was quiet—still, serene. Only the faint rustling of sheets and the distant lapping of waves filled the silence.

Lexa was the first to rise. Always disciplined, always composed. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her hair slightly tousled, the oversized tank top she wore dipping off one shoulder. She grabbed her toothbrush and a towel and padded barefoot into the spacious bathroom.

The air was still cool, the light diffused in soft tones over the wide mirror and marble counters. She liked the silence. The calm before the others woke. It gave her space to think. To breathe. To not look at Clarke.

She had just started brushing her teeth when she heard light footsteps behind her.

7:15 AM.

Clarke.

Freshly woken, her hair messy in the most beautiful way, wearing a cropped sleep shirt and loose cotton shorts that hung low on her hips. Her eyes found Lexa in the mirror instantly.

“Oh,” Clarke said with a smile, voice husky from sleep. “You’re up early.”

Lexa rinsed her mouth, then straightened slowly, meeting Clarke’s eyes in the mirror. “Habit.”

Clarke stepped closer, brushing past her lightly to grab her face wash from the counter. “Of course. You’re the ‘up-at-dawn’ type. Makes sense.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow. “What type are you?”

Clarke grinned, beginning to lather her cleanser. “The ‘look too good to be awake this early’ type.”

Lexa let out a short, unexpected laugh. A real one. Not a smirk. Not a scoff. A genuine, low, quiet laugh.

Clarke froze a little, watching her. “Damn,” she murmured, eyes soft. “You should smile more.”

Lexa shook her head slightly, but that smile lingered. “And give away all my mystery? Not a chance.”

Clarke tilted her head, wiping soap from her cheek. “You think mystery’s your only weapon?”

Lexa leaned on the counter, watching her in the mirror. “You’re the one who talks like a weapon.”

Clarke turned to face her fully. The air shifted. The steam from the shower pipes made the room a little warmer, a little closer. Their reflections hovered side by side in the mirror like a mirror universe version of themselves: calm, composed, aching.

“You ever just… stop being so composed for a second?” Clarke asked, voice low.

Lexa’s mouth twitched. “Only when no one’s looking.”

Clarke stepped back. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled off her shirt—revealing smooth, sun-kissed skin, toned abs, a gold waist chain still resting low on her hips. Then her shorts came off, tossed into the hamper casually. No bra. No panties. She was completely bare.

Lexa froze.

Clarke padded over to the shower, bare feet whispering against tile. She opened the glass door and turned the water on, steam beginning to rise immediately. She turned her head over her shoulder just slightly.

“If you want to join me,” she said, voice velvet-smooth, “you could just ask.”

Lexa stared. For a heartbeat too long.

“I…” she cleared her throat, eyes darkening, voice barely above a whisper. “That would be… against the rules.”

Clarke smirked, stepping into the shower. “She said don’t touch, she didn’t say anything about showering together.”

The door clicked shut. Steam rose fast. The glass quickly fogged—except for a perfect silhouette. Clarke’s body, blurred just slightly, her curves lit by the morning light, skin slick with water. She tilted her head back under the spray, eyes closed.

Lexa stood frozen, jaw tight, arms crossed, doing everything she could to not stare.

Then the bathroom door creaked open.

Raven. Bleary-eyed. Messy bun. Oversized Star Wars tee.

She rubbed her eyes. “Someone already using the—” Her voice stopped.

Lexa didn’t even flinch.

Raven blinked, then looked toward the shower where Clarke was humming, completely visible through the fogged glass.

“Well,” Raven said flatly, “this morning got interesting fast.”

Clarke, from inside the shower, called out, “Don’t be shy, Raven. Come say hi.”

Raven laughed, grabbing her toothbrush. “Jesus, Clarke. Give a girl a warning.”

Lexa still hadn’t moved.

Raven looked at her. “You okay there, stoic queen?”

Lexa finally blinked, her voice sharp but hushed. “Fine.”

The steam curled around her like a lover’s touch. Through the glass, Clarke’s hands slid through her hair slowly, her body arching slightly under the water. Her waist chain glinted faintly.

And Lexa… wanted.

So badly.

But she didn’t move. Not yet.

The villa pulsed with energy like it had taken a deep breath and stretched into the sun. Warm light poured in from every direction, spilling across the white bedsheets, wood floors, and sleek vanities cluttered with makeup bags, lotions, and bikinis in every cut and color. The air was thick with perfume, coconut oil, and the bass thump of a summery pop song playing from someone’s speaker.

Laughter. Talking. Playful screams. Bras flying. Lip gloss getting passed around like a secret.

“Okay, listen,” Hope announced, holding two bikinis against her chest like a judge on Project Runway. “Do I go with the scandalous red or the ‘I’m sweet but will ruin your life’ pastel?”

Echo, perched on the edge of her bed, didn’t even look up from applying her black eyeliner. “Sweet pastel. Definitely more dangerous.”

Hope beamed. “You get me.”

Raven leaned over from her side of the vanity, flicking mascara onto her lashes while Luna sat cross-legged beside her, slowly brushing coconut oil through her curls.

“You know,” Raven said, smirking into the mirror, “I feel like we’re in some all-girl summer cult. A sexy cult.”

Luna chuckled, her voice soft and rich. “Where everyone’s hot and no one’s allowed to touch.”

“Cruel,” muttered Ontari, stepping out of the bathroom in a black bikini that left very little to the imagination. She was toweling off her damp hair, eyes scanning the room like a predator looking for someone to pounce on.

“Damn, girl,” Octavia said, her tone both mocking and appreciative. “You look like a Bond villain on vacation.”

Ontari smirked. “I like to keep things dangerous.”

Across the room, Anya was calmly braiding her hair at the foot of her bed, watching everyone with a barely-there smirk. She said nothing—but her eyes lingered when Octavia bent over to dig through a drawer.

And near the large mirror across from the windows, Clarke stood in a blue bikini with gold accents, glowing from her shower, damp hair dripping down her back. Her skin shimmered slightly with body oil, and in her hand, she held the delicate gold waist chain she’d worn the day before.

“Hey, Lexa,” she called casually, not turning around. “Can you help me clasp this?”

Lexa, who had been pulling her dark red bikini top over her head a few feet away, froze for a second. Her eyes flicked toward Clarke’s bare back. Her voice was calm, but there was tension beneath it.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Clarke turned around slowly, holding out the chain. The moment Lexa stepped behind her, the air shifted. The music and laughter faded in Clarke’s ears. All she felt was Lexa’s presence—cool, composed, intense.

Lexa took the chain, her fingers brushing Clarke’s waist as she wrapped it around. Her touch was light, barely there, but it burned. She fastened the clasp, her fingertips grazing skin—lingering a second too long. Just a second. But enough.

Clarke’s breath hitched.

Lexa’s eyes didn’t rise from the gold chain. “There. You’re good.”

But she didn’t move away.

Clarke turned slightly, just enough for her shoulder to brush against Lexa’s collarbone.

“Thanks,” she murmured, voice like heat off pavement. Then, teasingly, “You like it, don’t you?”

Lexa finally met her eyes. A pause. A real pause.

“I do,” Lexa said, quietly. “But I liked it more when it wasn’t driving me insane.”

Clarke grinned, tilting her head. “So it is driving you insane.”

Lexa gave the faintest smile—just a quirk of her lips—but it was real.

Before either of them could say more, Niylah appeared from behind with a teasing look. “You two need a room?”

Lexa stepped back immediately, back to calm and unreadable. Clarke, unfazed, just winked. “We have ten beds and zero rules about sharing space.”

“Yet,” Lexa muttered, brushing past them to grab a towel.

As the other girls started gathering their sunglasses, wraps, and water bottles, the energy remained light but charged.

“Alright, beach babes,” Raven called. “Let’s go out there and not break the rules for at least ten more minutes.”

Luna laughed. “Temptation begins in 3… 2…”

And the girls poured out into the villa like walking desire—legs long, shoulders glistening, hearts pounding. Some held back smiles. Some held back touches.

But Lexa stayed behind for one more second, staring at the reflection of Clarke’s waist in the mirror. She didn’t need to touch the chain again.

She already felt it under her skin.

The sun was merciless. Bright and golden, it shimmered off the sleek surface of the infinity pool, casting diamonds across the ripples as the girls spilled out onto the loungers and daybeds like they were born to be worshipped.

The scent of sunscreen, citrus, and saltwater clung to the air as the girls claimed their spots around the pool. Some dipped their legs into the water; others lounged with sunglasses perched on their heads and cold drinks in hand.

Clarke, in her blue bikini and gold waist chain, sat with her knees pulled up on a lounge chair, slowly sipping from a tall glass of something pink and spiked. Her skin glowed, her lips stained with a hint of strawberry gloss.

Across from her, Lexa reclined under a wide parasol, a red bikini clinging to her in all the right places. She was watching. Always watching. Eyes hidden behind dark lenses, but the tension in her jaw gave her away.

“I swear,” Raven said from her spot beside Luna, “if I get one more look from Echo like I’m her next meal, I’m gonna break a rule just to spite Allie.”

“You say that like I didn’t catch you eye-fucking her at breakfast,” Luna replied with a slow, knowing smile, brushing oil across her legs.

Raven gave her a sideways glance. “Can’t a girl have options?”

“You don’t want options,” Luna murmured. “You want danger.”

Raven blinked. “…Are you calling yourself dangerous?”

Luna just smiled again.

At the shallow end of the pool, Octavia and Anya had already jumped in. The water sparkled as Octavia splashed at Anya, who retaliated by pulling her under for a second. They surfaced close, faces inches apart, hair slicked back, both grinning wide.

“You know this counts as foreplay, right?” Octavia joked.

“I haven’t touched you,” Anya said coolly, drifting away. “Yet.”

Near the sunbeds, Ontari and Niylah were playing a slow game of chicken—each waiting for the other to say something bold first.

“You’re not as quiet as I expected,” Niylah said, sipping from a pineapple-shaped cup, watching Ontari through her lashes.

“And you’re not as shy,” Ontari countered, inching closer.

From across the pool, Clarke finally stood, stretching slowly, deliberately. Lexa’s eyes tracked every movement behind her sunglasses.

Clarke made her way toward Lexa’s side of the pool, the sway of her hips just a little exaggerated. She stood at the edge of Lexa’s lounger, looking down.

“You’ve been staring,” Clarke said simply.

Lexa pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were on fire.

“I think you knew I would.”

Clarke smiled lazily. “Would it kill you to come in the pool?”

Lexa tilted her head. “Would it kill you if I did?”

Before Clarke could reply, Allie’s familiar chime echoed through the air. All heads turned as the sleek AI cone on the patio lit up with its soft blue glow.

ALLIE (AI Voice): “Ladies. As you know, you’re here for a very special reason—to build deeper connections without giving in to temptation. But I’ve noticed… the heat is rising.”

A few groans and nervous laughs sounded.

“Therefore, I have a challenge for you. A test of restraint… and chemistry.”

Hope, from her shaded chair, groaned loudly. “Oh no. She’s gonna make us do eye contact again.”

“You wish,” Echo muttered, sipping her drink with amused menace.

ALLIE: “Today’s challenge is simple: Tantric Temptation. You will pair up and spend five full minutes in physical contact—skin to skin. No kissing. No touching below the waist. Just you… and the electricity between you.”

The girls exploded into nervous chatter.

“You know she’s trying to break us,” Clarke said with a short laugh.

“Five minutes is a lifetime,” Raven muttered.

“I volunteer Lexa,” Hope called with a wicked grin.

Lexa didn’t flinch. But Clarke raised a brow.

“Should we pair ourselves?” Octavia asked, suddenly excited. “Or does Allie play matchmaker?”

ALLIE: “You may choose your own partners. But choose carefully. The stronger your restraint… the more you’ll earn.”

There was a pause. A collective inhale. The game had changed again.

Clarke looked over at Lexa. “You brave enough for five minutes?”

Lexa met her gaze. “Are you?”

And across the villa, desire smoldered. Tension tightened like a rope. And somewhere deep inside, they all knew—

Something was going to break.

The girls were now gathered on yoga mats arranged in pairs, surrounded by flickering candles and soft, ambient music. It was all set up to feel spiritual—but the way the girls looked at each other, it was anything but innocent.

Clarke adjusted her bikini top, standing in the center of the chaos, her blue eyes scanning the options.

Lexa was across the deck, sitting back with arms crossed, talking quietly to Raven, but Clarke’s gaze drifted toward someone else.

Hope. Leaning against the cabana post in a barely-there yellow bikini, sipping from a bottle of water, smirking like she knew she was being watched.

Clarke walked up to her, slow and sure.

“Tantric challenge,” Clarke said casually. “Feel like getting a little… close?”

Hope raised a brow. “You sure about that? I’m not exactly known for restraint.”

Clarke’s smirk deepened. “I’m counting on it.”

Hope whistled low, pushing off the post. “Alright, blondie. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

They took their spot on a plush mat just left of center. Instructors gave soft, guided directions: eye contact, breathing, touch—but no kissing, and nothing below the waist.

“Start seated. Face your partner. Knees touching. Hands on each other’s thighs or hips.” Allie spoke

Clarke sank gracefully onto the mat, legs folding beneath her, knees brushing Hope’s. Hope followed suit, placing her hands gently on Clarke’s hips. Skin to skin.

The air between them tightened.

“You’ve got a perfect body, you know that?” Hope said lowly. “Like, dangerously perfect. That ass should be illegal.”

Clarke grinned, slow and wicked. “And yet… fully on display.”

Hope let her gaze drift downward. “God, I hope Allie isn’t watching.”

“She always is,” Clarke murmured, voice sultry. “But we haven’t broken any rules… yet.”

They were supposed to maintain eye contact, but Hope’s eyes flickered down again, hungry. Her hands slid up, just a little, fingers grazing Clarke’s waist where the gold chain shimmered against her skin.

“You’re doing great,” Clarke whispered, leaning in ever so slightly. “Such good control…”

Hope narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to break me.”

Clarke leaned in even closer, their faces just inches apart. “Me? Never. I’m just sitting here, being adored.”

Hope’s grip tightened slightly, thumbs brushing dangerously close to the curve of Clarke’s lower back.

“You want me to touch it,” Hope said.

Clarke’s eyes sparkled. “Is it that obvious?”

Hope inhaled sharply, then started to reach down, hand sliding toward Clarke’s perfectly sculpted backside.

But just before her fingers could land, a sharp voice interrupted.

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

The voice sliced through the moment like a blade.

Hope froze, her hand hovering mid-air.

Clarke bit her lip, eyes full of innocent guilt. “Looks like someone’s watching after all.”

The instructor stepped closer, clipboard in hand, eyes stern but amused.

“One more inch, and you’ll be down a few thousand dollars. Is it worth it?”

Hope groaned dramatically, pulling her hand back. “God, you’re evil,” she said to Clarke.

Clarke tilted her head, lips curved. “No. I’m disciplined.”

They held each other’s eyes a beat longer, the tension still thick in the air.

“Time’s up,” the instructor called. “Switch or cool down.”

As Clarke stood up, she bent to grab her towel—very slowly—giving Hope an eyeful of the exact temptation she’d nearly touched.

Behind them, Allie’s chime sounded softly.

ALLIE (AI voice):
“Well done, ladies. That was… intense. I’d offer you a cold shower, but then you’d only make it hotter.”

The other girls laughed and groaned as the challenge wrapped up.

But Lexa? Lexa had been watching the entire thing from her mat. Her eyes locked on Clarke the second she got up. And something inside her burned.

The game wasn’t just physical anymore. It was personal.

The girls were still breathless from the first round of the Tantric Temptation Challenge, some flushed from laughter, others from almost crossing a line.

Clarke, now standing tall in her blue bikini, her skin glistening and her golden hair tumbling over one shoulder, twirled her waist chain slowly between her fingers. She knew eyes were on her.

Especially Lexa’s.

Across the deck, Lexa rose to her feet with slow purpose. Her expression was unreadable, but her steps were deliberate as she cut across the floor, heading straight for Clarke.

The chatter faded slightly around them as the intensity shifted.

Clarke turned, catching Lexa’s approach. Her eyes sparkled.

“Going somewhere?” Clarke asked innocently, eyebrows lifted.

Lexa didn’t stop until she was standing in front of her, close enough to feel the heat radiating between their bodies.

“We’re switching partners, right?” Lexa said, voice smooth, low. “I want to be with you.”

There was no hesitation in her tone, no attempt to hide it. It wasn’t even a question. It was a claim.

Clarke tilted her head, clearly enjoying this.

“Oh?” she said, stepping just slightly to the side. “What happened to sitting back and brooding silently?”

Lexa’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve watched long enough.”

Clarke was so tempted—Lexa’s eyes were smoldering, her tone like velvet-wrapped steel, and her presence, magnetic. But temptation was half the fun.

“Well,” Clarke said slowly, “as much as I do love attention…”

She turned her head and looked past Lexa—eyes finding Niylah, who was leaning casually near the water, drink in hand, watching them with raised brows and a knowing smile.

Clarke stepped past Lexa, her fingers trailing over Lexa’s bare arm just briefly—a touch that burned more because it ended too fast.

“I think I’ll go with Niylah for this round,” Clarke said lightly, over her shoulder. “She’s been waiting patiently.”

Lexa blinked once. Her jaw tightened slightly.

Niylah stood up straight, caught slightly off guard, but didn’t miss a beat. “Guess I’m the lucky girl, huh?”

Clarke smiled at her like sin incarnate. “Come on. Let’s see how well you do under pressure.”

Niylah gave Lexa a little shrug before taking Clarke’s hand. The two walked off toward a fresh mat, the movement playful but undeniably sensual.

Lexa stood still for a second, watching them go. Watching Clarke’s hips sway. Watching her laugh softly as Niylah whispered something in her ear.

Clarke didn’t turn back.

But she knew Lexa was looking.

Clarke sat facing Niylah now, knees touching, the instructions beginning again.

Niylah was calm but quietly confident, her eyes locked on Clarke’s face.

“You enjoy driving people crazy?” she asked.

Clarke chuckled softly, placing her hands on Niylah’s thighs. “Only the ones I like.”

Niylah’s hands slid up to Clarke’s hips, thumbs tracing small, hypnotic circles on her skin.

“She’s still watching,” Niylah said quietly.

“I know,” Clarke whispered.

“Are you trying to make her jealous?”

Clarke shrugged with a smirk. “Not jealous. Just… motivated.”

Niylah leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. “And me?”

Clarke’s breath hitched. “You’re not a game. You’re just lucky.”

Their hands stayed where they were. Their breathing synced. The world narrowed. For a second, it didn’t matter who was watching.

Across the deck, Lexa sat down hard on a bench, jaw tight, muscles coiled.

She wouldn’t forget this.

Not the tease.

Not the touch.

Not the fire Clarke lit in her—and walked away from.

After a day of restraint that pushed the limit, the girls were finally winding down. The challenge mats had been rolled away. The music had gone soft. And Allie, their ever-present AI host, had gone silent for the night—though everyone knew she was still watching.

Octavia and Anya were tangled up on the far bed, laughing at something Octavia had just whispered. Echo sat cross-legged in front of the mirror braiding Hope’s hair, while Ontari and Niylah changed side by side, openly sneaking glances at each other’s reflections. Raven was already in bed, scrolling through the fake journal Allie had given them, pretending not to care that Luna had just stripped her shirt off in the doorway.

And in the center of it all, Clarke stood near her bed in an oversized tank top and tiny cotton shorts, towel-dried curls falling around her shoulders, warm from her shower. She was rubbing lotion into her arms when Lexa approached.

Lexa was in black sleep shorts and a fitted tank, still barefoot, hair damp from her own shower. Her tattoos peeked out beneath the fabric—shadows curling over her bicep, the one at her hipbone flashing briefly as she moved.

“Hey,” Lexa said quietly, eyes soft, voice low.

Clarke glanced over, smile already tugging at her lips. “Hey.”

Lexa leaned against the bedframe beside her, folding her arms. “So… big day.”

Clarke hummed. “You mean the part where I nearly ruined Hope’s self-control on national TV?”

Lexa’s lips curled. “That part. And the part where you ditched me.”

Clarke’s brows lifted. “I didn’t ditch you. I made a strategic decision.”

Lexa tilted her head. “To drive me insane?”

Clarke just grinned.

A beat of silence passed, comfortable and charged.

Then Lexa asked, voice casual but tinged with something heavier, “You wanna sleep with me tonight?”

Clarke blinked, caught off guard. She laughed softly. “Wow. Straight to the point.”

Lexa shrugged with one shoulder, eyes steady. “Not like that. I mean just—sleep. Share the bed.”

Clarke considered her for a moment, lips parting… then she smiled again.

“I think I’m good tonight,” she said lightly, brushing past Lexa with a teasing smirk.

Lexa turned, not following. “Why not?”

Clarke raised an eyebrow over her shoulder. “Because you want me to.”

Lexa’s brows knit. “So you’re saying no just to spite me?”

Clarke stopped, glanced back. “No. I’m saying no because you think you’re in control.” She tilted her head. “And that’s adorable.”

Lexa scoffed, stepping closer again, just enough for Clarke to feel the heat from her body. “You’re seriously the one who flirted with Hope like that, then pretended to be innocent.”

Clarke put a hand to her chest, mock-shocked. “Are you accusing me of having no self-control?”

Lexa gave her a slow once-over. “No. I’m accusing you of pretending you don’t have any so people let their guard down.”

Clarke laughed at that—really laughed, full and bright—and it broke the tension in the air. Lexa smiled too, softer now, genuine.

“You’re impossible,” Lexa said.

“And you love it.”

They stood there a few seconds longer, shoulders brushing, tension buzzing between them, flirting with the line but never crossing it.

Across the room, Ontari shouted, “Can y’all either kiss or shut up?”

Everyone laughed, even Lexa and Clarke.

“I’m going to bed before Allie shocks us all for getting too horny,” Raven said from her pillow.

Clarke turned away then, climbing into her bed. Lexa stood for a second longer, watching her settle under the sheets.

But just before Lexa turned away—Hope slipped into the bed beside Clarke.

Wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and tiny briefs, Hope stretched out beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Room for one more?” she asked, lips already curled in that half-smirk.

Clarke didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

Lexa froze.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t react.

But her jaw tightened, just barely, and she climbed into her own bed across the room, with Echo. Who was halfway asleep, facing the wall.

Behind her, Clarke whispered something to Hope that made the girl laugh softly… and then the lights dimmed.

ALLIE (AI voice):
“Goodnight, ladies. Sleep tight. And remember… no touching below the covers.”

The girls groaned collectively, some throwing pillows toward the AI speaker.

But soon enough, the room quieted. Breathing slowed.

And Lexa lay awake, staring at the wall.

She could still hear Clarke’s laugh. Still feel her presence.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was determined.

Tomorrow… Clarke would choose her.

Chapter Text

The girls were scattered across the villa, coffee mugs in hand, some wrapped in towels, others lounging in bikinis and oversized shirts.

It was in this calm, in the hush of real sunlight and not stage lights, that something unexpected began: connection.

Echo sat on the edge of the outdoor couch, arms loosely draped over her knees, her long braid trailing down her back. She was sipping black coffee, staring at the ocean. She wasn’t one for words. Not unless they mattered.

Hope flopped down next to her with a yawn, brushing sleep from her eyes. “You look like you’ve been up since sunrise.”

“I was,” Echo replied simply.

Hope glanced sideways. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Echo shrugged. “Didn’t want to.”

Silence stretched. Then Echo surprised her. “You’re not what I expected.”

Hope blinked. “In a good way, or…?”

Echo met her eyes. “You’re bold, yeah. But you’re not reckless. You stop when it matters.”

Hope tilted her head, genuinely surprised. “You… noticed that?”

“I notice everything,” Echo said, then smirked. “Even the way you fake confidence when you’re nervous.”

Hope laughed, touched in a way she didn’t expect to be. “That’s freaky. But also… kinda sweet.”

They didn’t move closer. But something shifted. Something small, but real.

Niylah was rinsing a glass when Ontari slid up beside her, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and bumping her shoulder on purpose.

“You always this domestic?” Ontari asked with a grin.

Niylah glanced at her. “Only when someone leaves sticky tequila glasses everywhere.”

Ontari raised her hands in mock guilt. “Fair. But you like taking care of people, huh?”

Niylah paused. “Not really. I just… like calm. I grew up with a lot of chaos.”

Ontari was quiet for a beat. “Me too.”

Niylah looked over, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. Ontari wasn’t known for vulnerability. She was brash, cocky. But just then, she seemed… softer.

“You hide it well,” Niylah said.

Ontari peeled the banana slowly, gave a half-smile. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

They stood quietly for a while. Then Ontari reached over and casually tucked a strand of hair behind Niylah’s ear. It lingered. Then passed.

But the feeling stayed.

Raven sat with her legs dangling in the water, sunglasses on, hair in a messy bun. Luna was floating on her back nearby, arms stretched, eyes closed.

“You’re always so zen?” Raven asked, voice teasing but curious.

Luna cracked one eye open. “What, it’s a crime to relax?”

Raven snorted. “No, I just… don’t know how you do it. The rest of us are a mess. You’re out here acting like Buddha in a bikini.”

Luna paddled closer, resting her arms on the ledge near Raven’s knees. “Maybe I used to be a mess. Maybe I just got tired of it.”

Raven blinked. “That’s… deeper than I expected.”

Luna smiled. “You’ve got layers too. You use sarcasm to avoid saying how smart you really are.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’ve been watching me.”

“Maybe.” Luna looked up at her. “Maybe I like what I see.”

Raven laughed, a little nervously, kicking water at her. But her cheeks were pink.

Octavia was talking a mile a minute about growing up in a small town, about fighting boys in middle school, about never trusting people who wear socks to bed.

Anya was just… listening. Quiet. Focused. Soft-eyed.

“You’re not bored of me yet?” Octavia asked with a grin.

“No,” Anya said simply. “I like hearing your stories.”

Octavia stared at her. “You’re like… really intense.”

“You’re like really loud,” Anya teased. “It balances out.”

Octavia laughed. Then she paused. “You’re kinda amazing, you know that?”

Anya smiled, rare and real. “So are you.”

The hammock swayed slowly. And for once, Octavia didn’t have anything clever to say.

Clarke leaned against the railing, arms folded, ocean breeze tugging at her hair. Lexa stood beside her, close but not touching. The air between them was thick with something—but neither had figured out what that something was.

“So…” Lexa started, “You and Hope.”

Clarke sighed. “It’s not serious.”

“Looked serious last night,” Lexa muttered.

Clarke turned toward her, expression open. “Lexa. I like her. She’s fun. She makes it easy to breathe.”

Lexa looked at her then, something raw flickering behind her eyes. “And I don’t?”

Clarke shook her head. “You make me feel, Lexa. That’s different. That’s harder.”

Lexa looked away.

A moment passed before Clarke spoke again, quieter.

“When I’m with you… I don’t just want to flirt or kiss you. I want to understand you. I want to pull you apart. And that scares me.”

Lexa’s voice was rough when she answered. “So you’re saying you’re not attracted to me?”

Clarke exhaled. “No. That’s the problem. I am—but it’s not just that. I’m not in love with you… but I’m not not in love with you either.”

Lexa blinked, stunned.

Clarke gave a small, sad smile. “I’m somewhere in between. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Lexa finally looked back at her. Her walls down. Her eyes soft. “Maybe we just… stay there. For now. In between.”

Clarke nodded. “Maybe we do.”

They didn’t touch. They didn’t kiss.

But the weight of that moment felt heavier than any rule-break.

The girls gathered outside, the sun warming their shoulders, the scent of sunscreen and citrus in the air. A large circular platform had been set up on the villa’s deck, draped in gauzy fabric, with sets of blindfolds, cones, and balance paths scattered around.

A soft chime rang out from the speakers, followed by Allie’s smooth voice.

ALLIE (AI):
“Good afternoon, ladies. You’ve survived temptation… barely. But physical chemistry is easy. Today, we’re turning up the emotional heat. Welcome to your first Trust Challenge.”

Excitement bubbled.

ALLIE:
“Each of you will be paired with a partner. One of you will wear a blindfold. The other will guide her—using only your voice or your hands. No peeking. No talking out of turn. Trust, or chaos. Let’s begin.”

The screen flickered on.

ALLIE:
“Partners are… Raven and Luna. Ontari and Niylah. Hope and Echo. Anya and Octavia. Clarke and… Lexa.”

Groans. Giggles. Lexa’s jaw clenched slightly. Clarke smirked.

“Looks like someone’s getting handsy today,” Clarke murmured as she passed Lexa.

Lexa glanced at her, trying not to show how affected she already was. “Only if you follow directions.”

Octavia grinned as the blindfold was tied over her eyes. She stood barefoot in the grass, arms loose at her sides.

“You ready for this?” she asked.

Anya’s voice, calm and low, slid through the air. “You have no idea.”

She stepped in close behind her, her hands brushing just over Octavia’s waist—not quite touching. Her voice dropped to a near whisper.

“Take one step forward.”

Octavia obeyed, heart thudding. There was something in Anya’s voice that made it impossible not to. Commanding. Velvet.

“Now to the left,” Anya said, circling her like a predator. Her fingers finally grazed the curve of Octavia’s hip. “Slowly.”

Octavia exhaled, lips parting. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Anya smirked. “Not half as much as you are.”

As the challenge continued, Anya’s guiding hands became more confident—her touch light but intentional. At one point, she adjusted Octavia’s stance from behind, both hands smoothing over her thighs as she helped her bend into position over a low bar.

Octavia bit back a moan.

“You’re evil,” she whispered.

Anya leaned close to her ear. “You love it.”

Octavia grinned blindly, breathless.

Lexa stood barefoot in the grass, blindfold tied tight across her eyes. Her brow furrowed slightly, as if even giving Clarke the lead was an internal battle.

“You sure you trust me?” Clarke asked, amused.

Lexa’s jaw ticked. “Not even a little.”

Clarke laughed. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

She took Lexa’s hands in hers, guiding her to the start of the maze path. Clarke’s hands lingered longer than necessary—on Lexa’s wrists, her elbows, the slope of her back.

“Step forward,” Clarke instructed, voice low. “There’s a balance beam. Straight line. I’ll be right here.”

Lexa’s feet moved carefully.

“You’re good at this,” she muttered, almost surprised.

Clarke circled slowly around her, studying every muscle movement, every shift of breath. Her voice dropped, gentle but firm.

“Left foot… good. Now stop.”

Lexa froze.

Clarke touched her waist.

“Do you always keep this much tension in your body?” she asked, teasing. Her fingers lingered just at the base of Lexa’s spine.

“Only when I’m being watched like prey,” Lexa replied, dry but breathless.

Clarke walked around her to the front, just inches from her. She tilted her head, studying the way Lexa stood perfectly still, waiting.

“Why do you let me get to you?” Clarke asked softly.

Lexa didn’t answer at first. Then:

“Because you’re already under my skin.”

Clarke’s breath caught. The air between them tightened.

She reached out, adjusted the blindfold gently, fingertips grazing Lexa’s temple. “That’s dangerous.”

“So are you.”

The game continued—slow, sensual, built on patience and breath. Every time Clarke guided Lexa forward, their connection deepened. Every whisper felt like a confession. Every graze, an invitation. Clarke’s hand slipped over Lexa’s hip to steady her and Lexa exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for days.

They finished the challenge without a single mistake.

When Clarke removed Lexa’s blindfold at the end, they locked eyes. For a full moment, neither of them moved.

Lexa’s voice was soft, raw. “That didn’t feel like a game.”

Clarke’s smile was shaky. “No. It didn’t.”

Their hands nearly touched.

But they didn’t kiss.

Not yet.

Allie’s voice returned.

ALLIE:
“Congratulations, ladies. Today, you didn’t just guide each other physically… but emotionally. Some of you are showing real growth. Others… well, let’s just say, temptation’s got a deadline.”

The girls laughed, some nervously. Some smiled with pride. But nearly everyone looked at their partner… just a little differently now.

Especially Clarke and Lexa.

The villa was quiet, golden lights twinkling around the pool below. Most of the girls were downstairs, getting ready for bed or still teasing each other about the trust challenge. But up on the rooftop, the mood was different—cool breeze, soft music, and two women sitting in silence.

Lexa and Anya.

They weren’t loud talkers. They didn’t need to fill space with noise. But something about the day had cracked something open, and Lexa had asked her to come up here—just to breathe.

Lexa sat cross-legged, hoodie zipped halfway, damp hair curling at her shoulders. Anya leaned back on her elbows, nursing a drink. The stars above them glittered like something worth trusting.

Anya broke the silence first.

“So,” she said, watching Lexa with narrowed eyes. “You gonna tell me what’s going on in that brooding head of yours?”

Lexa smirked faintly. “You’re projecting. You’re the broody one.”

Anya snorted. “Yeah, but I’m honest about it.”

Lexa exhaled, her smile fading into something heavier. She looked down at her hands for a long beat, then glanced sideways at Anya.

“…You ever want something you’re not sure you’re ready for?”

Anya didn’t laugh. She just nodded. “Every damn day since I met Octavia.”

That got Lexa’s attention. She turned toward her, eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

Anya shrugged, but her expression softened. “She’s… loud. Impulsive. Kind of a beautiful disaster.”

“But?”

“She makes me feel things. Things I haven’t let myself feel in years.” Anya looked Lexa dead in the eye. “You get that, don’t you?”

Lexa hesitated, then nodded. “More than you know.”

Anya took a sip of her drink, set it down. “Alright then. Top three girls in the villa. Go.”

Lexa blinked. “What?”

“Come on,” Anya said. “We’re being honest here. I gave you mine. Give me yours.”

Lexa sighed, rubbed the back of her neck, then looked out at the horizon.

“I don’t have a top three,” she said quietly. “I only have one.”

Anya’s head tilted. “Oh?”

Lexa’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Clarke.”

Anya blinked. She didn’t speak right away—just studied Lexa’s face, the rawness there, the way she said her name like it meant something.

Lexa went on, slower now, more exposed. “It’s not just that she’s beautiful. Or flirty. Or dangerous. It’s the way she looks at me. Like she sees me. Not the girl I play for the cameras. The real me.”

Anya’s lips parted slightly in surprise. “Damn.”

Lexa gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I want her. Fully. Not just her body. I want the way her eyes light up when she laughs. The way she pretends not to care, but does. The way she makes me feel like… maybe I’m not broken.”

Anya exhaled, leaning back again. “I knew you liked her. But I didn’t know it was like that.”

Lexa nodded once, eyes a little glassy now. “Yeah. It’s like that.”

A long pause.

Then Lexa turned to her. “Alright. Your turn. Top three.”

Anya didn’t even hesitate. “Octavia. No contest.”

Lexa smirked. “That obvious?”

Anya rolled her eyes. “She drives me crazy. She never shuts up, she touches everything, and she keeps trying to get me to dance with her in the kitchen.”

Lexa laughed quietly. “And yet…”

“And yet I’ve never smiled so much in one day in my life,” Anya said, voice softer now. “She’s fast, yeah. But it’s not just lust. She’s present. She makes me feel… real.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the air between them easier now. They weren’t just allies in the villa anymore. They were mirrors—reflecting the same complicated emotions in different colors.

Anya nudged Lexa with her knee. “You think you’ll tell Clarke?”

Lexa’s throat tightened. “…Not yet.”

Anya nodded. “But eventually.”

Lexa looked up at the stars again. “Yeah. Eventually.”

It was past 11:00 p.m. The air was thick with humidity, soft night sounds humming from the ocean beyond the villa. Raven and Octavia were sprawled on the oversized patio cushions, a half-finished bottle of wine between them, legs tangled like old friends who’d stopped caring about personal space.

Clarke joined them barefoot, her damp curls pushed back with a bandana. She dropped onto the cushion between them, letting out a groan.

“You okay, princess?” Raven teased, poking her side.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Not remotely.”

Octavia passed her a glass. “Wine first, then trauma dump.”

Clarke took a long sip. “Deal.”

A beat passed before Clarke exhaled and finally said it:

“I think I’m losing my damn mind over these women.”

That made both Raven and Octavia sit up a little straighter.

“Oh?” Raven smirked. “Let’s hear it.”

Clarke bit her lip, looked down at her glass. “It’s just—Hope, Niylah, Lexa… They’re all so different. And I’m attracted to all three of them in completely different ways. And it’s driving me crazy.”

Raven leaned back, raising a brow. “Alright. Break it down for us.”

Clarke ran her fingers through her hair. “Hope is like… exciting. She’s got this energy that’s just—magnetic. She says what she wants, she doesn’t play games, and when she flirts with me, it’s like my brain just short-circuits.”

Octavia smirked. “She did compliment your ass within like ten minutes of meeting you.”

Clarke laughed, cheeks heating. “Yeah, and I let her touch it, so maybe I’ve got issues.”

Raven raised her glass. “Relatable.”

Clarke took a breath. “But then there’s Niylah. She’s gentle. Sweet. The kind of girl who remembers how you like your coffee and actually listens when you talk. I feel safe with her. Like she’d protect me without needing to make a show of it.”

Octavia tilted her head. “Do you like her like her though? Or are you just into the comfort she gives you?”

Clarke hesitated. “That’s what I don’t know yet.”

Raven nudged her. “And Lexa?”

That name landed heavier.

Clarke’s fingers tightened around her glass. “Lexa is… intense. Every time she looks at me, it’s like she’s trying to figure me out and undress me at the same time. But she never chases. She just waits. Watches.”

Octavia gave a knowing hum. “And you hate that you want her to chase you.”

Clarke let out a bitter laugh. “Exactly. I can feel it—this pull toward her that I don’t understand. She’s smart, guarded, sharp. And when she actually smiles? It’s over for me. I can’t breathe.”

Raven leaned her chin on her hand. “So you’re stuck between excitement, comfort, and slow-burn obsession. Rough.”

Clarke groaned again, lying back on the cushions. “This villa is a beautiful disaster.”

Octavia lay down next to her, shoulder to shoulder. “If it helps, I think Lexa’s just as wrecked over you.”

Clarke’s eyes flicked sideways. “You think?”

Raven nodded. “She asks about you when you’re not around. She watches you like she’s trying to memorize every detail. But she’s scared, Clarke. She guards herself like she’s got barbed wire under her skin.”

Clarke was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what I want. I like Hope. I care about Niylah. And Lexa… Lexa feels like a story I haven’t decided to start yet. But I want to.”

Octavia smiled gently. “You don’t have to decide tonight. Or even this week.”

Raven reached out, lacing her fingers through Clarke’s. “Just follow what makes you feel most like you. Not who makes you feel desired. Not who makes you feel safe. Who makes you feel seen.”

Clarke exhaled deeply.

And for a moment, under the stars, with her girls beside her and the hum of possibility still thick in the air, she allowed herself to just be in it—messy, confused, a little in love with too many women.

But maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as lost as she thought.

Chapter Text

The girls were scattered around the pool area that same afternoon—some sprawled on towels, others dipping their feet in the water, drinks in hand, sunglasses on. Laughter echoed through the air as someone tossed a beach ball, nearly hitting Raven in the face.

“Watch it, Octavia!” Raven yelled, laughing.

Octavia grinned. “You’re welcome for the reflex training.”

Clarke lay on a lounger nearby, sipping a tropical drink with a flower sticking out the top. Lexa was sitting not far, head tipped back, eyes closed, earbuds in—completely relaxed, until Hope came up behind her and flicked water at her from the pool.

“Really?” Lexa asked, opening one eye with a smirk.

Hope winked. “You looked too serene. Had to fix it.”

Nearby, Anya and Niylah were deep in conversation, Ontari was messing around doing push-ups poolside to impress no one in particular, and Luna was braiding Echo’s damp hair while Echo scrolled lazily through the villa’s group tablet.

Everyone was relaxed. Too relaxed.

Then… the music cut.

The lights along the villa’s perimeter dimmed and shifted into soft green, almost like the walls themselves had taken a breath.

The girls froze. Murmurs broke out.

“Uh-oh,” Raven said, looking around. “That’s never good.”

From the speakers, Allie’s voice echoed across the courtyard, calm and smooth with that ever-so-slightly smug robotic tone.

“Hello, ladies.”

Everyone groaned, but a few smirked, expecting another warning about touching, kissing, or—god forbid—grinding on someone.

Allie continued.

“Congratulations. You’ve all survived the first couple of days in the villa, and some of you have already begun to develop real emotional connections.”

That perked some heads up. Clarke sat up a little straighter. Lexa pulled out her earbuds. Niylah’s brows furrowed.

“As a result, it’s time to introduce a new element… something that could bring both pleasure and pressure.”

Hope snorted. “Well, that’s not ominous at all.”

“Introducing… the Green Light.”

The lights flared brighter green for a moment.

Allie paused, letting the name settle.

“The Green Light is a temporary reward for couples who show genuine emotional progress—trust, vulnerability, and real connection. When granted, it will allow that pair a short window of time to physically explore their chemistry… without losing money.”

Silence.

Then: chaos.

“What?!”

“You’re joking!”

“Holy—finally!”

Clarke looked around wide-eyed. Lexa’s expression was unreadable, but her lips twitched slightly in intrigue.

Allie went on:

“The Green Light will only be given at my discretion, and only when I detect real, mutual emotional growth. Lust is not enough. So choose your words… and your actions… carefully.”

“And remember: a Green Light can come at any time. You won’t see it coming. But when you do…”

Suddenly, a neon sign buzzed to life on the side wall of the villa near the pool—a glowing, vertical green line. It pulsed once, then went dark again.

“…You’ll know what it means.”

With that, Allie’s voice cut out. The music returned, but softer this time, and the entire vibe of the villa had shifted.

The girls stared at each other in stunned silence. Some were grinning. Others looked downright terrified.

Luna exhaled slowly. “Well… shit just got interesting.”

Hope turned to Clarke immediately. “So what I’m hearing is, we’ve got a shot. Better start talking about our feelings, gorgeous.”

Clarke laughed, but her eyes flicked toward Lexa for a heartbeat too long.

Octavia elbowed Anya. “Emotional connection, huh? Think we’ve got a shot?”

Anya gave a sly smile. “You tell me.”

Ontari, of course, was already flexing and muttering, “I feel lots of emotions.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Not those kinds of emotions, Tar.”

Lexa finally stood, grabbing her water bottle, and walked toward Clarke. She didn’t say anything—just gave her a small, meaningful look as she passed.

Clarke swallowed.

The Green Light had changed everything.

1:05 AM

The villa was silent now.

Soft waves lapped in the distance, crickets chirped lazily in the bushes, and the faint glow from the pool lights painted everything in shimmering hues of turquoise and sapphire. The moon hung low, casting silver streaks across the water.

Everyone else was asleep. Allie had been quiet. No beeps, no lights, no interruptions.

Clarke padded quietly outside, barefoot, her silk shorts brushing her thighs, tank top hanging loose on one shoulder. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind kept going back to Lexa—her voice, her stare, the way her mouth twitched into a smile like it hurt to do it.

Clarke dropped onto a lounger and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. The air was warm, but her skin prickled. Not from cold. From restlessness.

She stared at the water. And then—

Footsteps.

Soft ones.

She turned.

Lexa.

Her hair was in a loose braid, some strands falling out from sleep. She wore low-slung sweatpants and a fitted ribbed tank. Her eyes locked onto Clarke’s in the dim glow, and something unspoken passed between them.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Lexa asked, voice low, like she didn’t want to disturb the stillness.

Clarke shook her head. “You?”

Lexa shook her head too. “No.”

She didn’t ask if she could sit. She just did—beside Clarke, but not too close.

There was a pause. A silence that held weight.

Clarke looked at her, really looked. “You always this calm?”

Lexa glanced at her with a soft smirk. “No. Just good at hiding it.”

Clarke smiled faintly. “I don’t think I’m good at hiding anything. I feel like I’m unraveling a little every day.”

Lexa was quiet for a beat, then turned to her fully. “You’re the most composed disaster I’ve ever seen.”

Clarke laughed—a short, surprised sound. “Thanks?”

Lexa smiled—a real one. Small. Honest.

It made Clarke’s chest ache.

“I keep thinking about earlier,” Clarke said suddenly, voice quieter. “When Allie said we had to show emotional progress. I don’t know what that looks like with you.”

Lexa’s brow furrowed gently. “Why?”

“Because you scare me,” Clarke admitted. “Not in a bad way. It’s just… you see too much. I feel like I can’t lie to you. Even when I lie to myself.”

Lexa looked down for a moment, thoughtful. Then back at Clarke. “You’re not as guarded as you think. That’s not weakness. It’s why everyone here is drawn to you.”

Clarke swallowed. Her voice was almost a whisper. “Are you?”

Lexa didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Clarke blinked, stunned by the honesty of it.

“You make me feel…” Lexa continued, voice tight with something unsaid, “like I don’t have to be something I’m not. Like I could just exist. And you’d still look at me the same.”

Clarke stared at her, lips parted, something swelling in her chest that was more than lust. More than a game. It was recognition.

Lexa shifted slightly closer. The heat between them pulsed like electricity.

“I really want to kiss you,” Lexa murmured, voice barely audible.

Clarke’s breath caught. “Then why don’t you?”

Lexa’s jaw clenched. “Because I might not stop.”

Clarke tilted her head, her lips brushing just close enough to tempt but not take. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

That was it.

Lexa surged forward, cupping Clarke’s jaw, and kissed her.

It wasn’t soft.

It was needy. Desperate. Full of restraint snapping loose like thread pulled too tight. Their mouths crashed, then slowed, then deepened—tongues brushing, breaths catching, bodies shifting closer as their legs tangled together on the lounge chair.

Clarke moaned into the kiss, her fingers gripping the back of Lexa’s neck, pulling her in like she never wanted to let go.

Lexa’s hands were at her waist, her thumb brushing the bare skin beneath Clarke’s tank top with a reverence that felt almost holy.

And even though the kiss was fiery, breathless, urgent—there was so much love beneath it. A yearning. A hunger to be known and seen and held without having to ask for it.

They pulled back only when they had to breathe.

Foreheads touching. Breaths shallow. Hearts racing.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first second you walked in,” Lexa whispered.

Clarke smiled, lips swollen, eyes glassy. “Same.”

They stayed like that for a long moment—entangled, open, seen.

Then Clarke whispered, “Do you think the others will hate us if they find out?”

Lexa breathed out a low laugh, brushing Clarke’s hair behind her ear. “Probably.”

Clarke grinned. “Worth it.”

Lexa kissed her again—slower this time. Like a promise.

And for once, neither of them thought about the rules. Or the cameras. Or even the green light.

Just each other.

It was late morning in the villa. Sunlight streamed through the massive glass doors, glinting off the white floors and lush decor. The girls were gathered in the plush sunken living room, lounging on beanbags and sectional sofas in oversized tees and sleepwear, coffee cups and smoothies in hand.

A few were still yawning.

“God,” Raven muttered, stretching with a groan, “I hope no one cost us money last night. That’s the only thing that could ruin this vanilla almond latte.”

Clarke’s throat tightened slightly. She looked down at her drink and said nothing.

Lexa was across the room, silent, casually sipping her coffee, legs crossed, but her green eyes flicked toward Clarke now and then.

Hope snorted. “If anyone did something, they’re bold as hell. Allie’s always watching.”

Echo, brushing tangles out of her hair, muttered, “Wouldn’t be the first time someone got handsy after hours.”

Just then—

DING!

The villa lights pulsed softly, and a holographic shimmer flickered above the living room console. Allie’s crisp voice filled the room.

“Good morning, ladies.”

Collective groans filled the air.

“I hope you all enjoyed your rest. Unfortunately, I have some… less than restful news.”

Everyone perked up. Clarke’s stomach flipped.

“Last night, at approximately 1:22 a.m., two contestants broke the rules.”

A ripple of gasps and nervous giggles.

“A single violation occurred: a prolonged make-out session involving intense groping and deep kissing, costing the group…”

The screen lit up:

- $6,000

“Six THOUSAND?” Octavia shrieked. “For a makeout?!”

“What the hell were they doing—recreating a scene from a movie?” Echo barked.

Hope held her hands up. “Wasn’t me. I was knocked out cold.”

“As per the rules, I will not reveal the identities of the individuals involved—this time. But let this serve as a warning: emotional progress will be rewarded. Secret make-out sessions will not.”

DING. Allie vanished.

Silence.

Then—

Raven stood, narrowed eyes scanning the room. “Okay. Fess up. Who did it?”

No one moved.

“I know someone’s sitting here pretending they didn’t do anything when they’ve been playing tonsil tag.”

“Could be Ontari,” Luna joked. “She’s been looking pent up.”

Ontari rolled her eyes. “I would at least wait for a green light. Damn.”

Clarke kept her eyes on her lap, face steadily flushing despite her best effort.

Lexa was a statue. Calm. Composed.

Too composed.

Raven squinted.

“Wait a damn second,” she said slowly, then pointed at Clarke. “Why are you blushing like that?”

Clarke’s eyes went wide. “What? I’m not—”

“Girl, your ears are pink!” Raven shouted. “Oh my God, it’s you! You kissed someone last night!”

Now everyone was staring at her.

Clarke opened her mouth to lie. Maybe say it was Hope. Or Niylah.

Then—

Octavia gasped. “Was it Hope?”

Hope blinked. “Wait—what? Was it me? Did you make out with me in my sleep?”

Clarke cringed. “No. It wasn’t Hope.”

Raven’s mouth dropped open. “Niylah?”

Niylah smirked. “Would’ve been a good guess.”

Clarke shook her head, face beet red.

And then Lexa—stoic, silent Lexa—spoke.

“It was me.”

Silence.

You could hear a pin drop.

Raven slowly turned her head, stunned. “What?!”

Clarke swallowed. “We… didn’t plan it. It just… happened. We couldn’t sleep. We were talking, and then… it got intense.”

“Damn,” Octavia whispered. “Six grand intense.”

Anya leaned forward, eyebrows raised. “So y’all just risked all our money for a little poolside heat?”

Lexa looked around the room, her voice calm but sincere. “It wasn’t just heat.”

Clarke added quickly, “We weren’t trying to screw anyone over. It was just… real. And in the moment, we weren’t thinking about the money. I know that sounds selfish—”

“No, it sounds real,” Luna cut in gently.

There was another pause.

Then Echo shrugged. “Honestly… I respect it. Sucks about the cash, but we’ve all been tempted.”

“Yeah,” Raven muttered, arms crossed. “Just next time maybe wait for the green light.”

Lexa glanced at Clarke, voice softer now. “We’re sorry.”

Clarke nodded. “Really.”

Eventually, Niylah smiled. “Well… at least now we know it’s real between you two.”

Hope raised a brow. “Y’all gonna be the first green light couple?”

Clarke glanced at Lexa and smiled, a little shy. “Guess we’ll see.”

The tension began to lift. Jokes started again. Octavia leaned into Anya’s shoulder. Raven whispered to Luna, “I give it three days before someone else breaks the rules.”

But the air had shifted.

The girls weren’t just here to flirt anymore.

Now… they were starting to feel.

The girls were lounging outside after the chaotic morning. Some were still side-eyeing Clarke and Lexa; others were back to laughing and sunbathing.

Suddenly—DING.

Allie’s voice echoed across the villa again.

“Hello, ladies. Time for today’s emotional growth challenge. Please make your way to the fire pit.”

A mix of groans and curiosity followed, but they gathered quickly, walking barefoot or in sandals, many still in swimwear and breezy coverups.

They arrived to find a strange setup: a tall wall covered in chalkboard paint stood upright. On it, were words like:

“Fear.” “Shame.” “Insecurity.” “Rejection.” “Abandonment.”

Next to it: a bench and a set of chalk buckets.

Allie spoke again.

“Welcome to The Wall of Vulnerability. Each of you will pick a word on this wall that resonates with you. Then, one at a time, you’ll explain why. You’ll share a personal experience, a fear, a truth. This is not about perfection. It’s about connection.”

The air grew still.

The first to move was Octavia. She grabbed the word “Abandonment.”

She spoke about her childhood—how she always felt like people left first, so she became the girl who never needed anyone.

Next came Hope: “Insecurity.” She talked about not always feeling enough, especially compared to more confident women.

Echo surprised everyone by choosing “Rejection.” She opened up about how even though she acts tough, she’s terrified of being the one left behind.

Anya selected “Shame.” She talked about learning to own her sexuality after years of hiding who she was.

Then it was Clarke’s turn.

She stood silently in front of the wall for a long beat before choosing “Fear.”

“I’m afraid of being known too deeply,” she said. “Because if someone really sees me, they might not like what they find.”

She looked directly at Lexa as she said it.

Lexa, chest tight, stepped forward next. She picked the word “Control.”

“I feel like if I don’t control the situation… I lose who I am. And I’m tired of it. I want to feel something without fearing it.”

The mood was heavy. But it was raw. Real.

Allie’s voice returned.

“Congratulations. For your emotional progress today, all of you are now eligible for the green light. Stay open, stay connected… and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be rewarded.”

Cheers erupted, cutting through the somber tone. The girls hugged, laughed nervously. But something had shifted again.

It was no longer about lust.

It was becoming deeply personal.

Later that night, after the sun had set and the villa dimmed into soft candlelight and string bulbs, Clarke sat out on the upstairs balcony, overlooking the pool.

She was sipping water, legs pulled up to her chest again.

Footsteps.

She didn’t have to look. She already knew.

Lexa joined her wordlessly.

“Thought you might come find me,” Clarke said softly.

Lexa leaned on the railing, facing her. “You okay?”

Clarke nodded slowly. “It was a lot. Everyone knowing. I didn’t expect it to feel… so exposed.”

Lexa’s voice was gentle. “I didn’t mean to out us. But… I didn’t want you to be alone in it.”

Clarke looked up at her, eyes glassy. “Thank you.”

Lexa hesitated, then sat beside her.

“Do you regret it?” Clarke asked suddenly.

Lexa didn’t answer right away. Then: “Not for a second. Do you?”

Clarke shook her head. “No. But… I think it scared me. How much I felt in it. It wasn’t just kissing someone. It was kissing you.”

Lexa’s gaze dropped to her lap. “It felt like too much. And exactly enough.”

They were quiet for a while, just sitting in the night.

Then Clarke leaned her head on Lexa’s shoulder.

“I’ve never had someone make me feel that seen,” Clarke whispered. “And I’m still not sure what to do with it.”

Lexa turned, pressing a soft kiss to Clarke’s temple. “Then we figure it out. Together.”

And in that moment—quiet, no audience, no pressure—they were just two girls learning how to feel again.

Girls were splashing in the pool, laughing, tanning, music playing from the Bluetooth speakers perched on the deck. But inside, in the cool hush of the main bathroom, Clarke and Lexa were alone.

They hadn’t planned it. Clarke had just slipped away, needing a breather. Lexa had followed a few minutes later, as if pulled by a silent thread between them.

The tension had been unbearable all morning.

Every look. Every brush of a shoulder. Every memory of the kiss they weren’t supposed to share.

Clarke stood at the marble sink, staring at herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair was damp from the pool, sticking to her skin. Lexa leaned against the counter a few feet away, arms crossed, green eyes unreadable but burning.

They were both in swimsuits—Clarke in that same two-piece that had been haunting Lexa’s sleep for nights now. A thin waist chain glittered at her hips, catching the soft bathroom light.

Lexa’s gaze lingered.

Clarke noticed.

She smirked, but it was lazy, dangerous. “You’re staring again.”

“I always stare when I want something,” Lexa said, voice low.

Clarke’s breath hitched.

Lexa stepped forward, slowly. Not touching. Just near enough. The air between them thickened.

Clarke swallowed. “You know we can’t.”

“I know.” Lexa’s jaw tensed. “That doesn’t stop me from wanting.”

Clarke leaned back on the counter, bracing herself, eyes raking over Lexa’s body. Her hands gripped the edge a little tighter.

“Same,” she whispered.

The silence was electric.

Lexa moved to the opposite counter, facing Clarke from across the room. They weren’t touching, but their eyes were locked like magnets.

Then—wordlessly—Lexa reached behind her and twisted the lock on the door.

Clarke’s eyes widened, heartbeat quickening.

“We’re not doing anything,” Lexa said, voice thick with restraint. “We’re just… existing.”

“Right,” Clarke whispered, her lips parted. “Just… existing.”

Lexa’s breathing changed. Slower. Deeper. Her legs shifted, hips pressing back against the counter. Her hands slid to the edge of the marble behind her, gripping it like she needed the grounding.

Clarke could barely breathe. Her thighs pressed together instinctively.

They didn’t touch.

But they watched.

And watched.

Lexa’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. Her chest rose and fell with effort. Her green eyes never once left Clarke’s.

Clarke bit her bottom lip, hard. “This is torture,” she breathed.

Lexa nodded. “The best kind.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Clarke’s temple.

Her hand slid slowly across her own stomach—not touching anything illicit, but so close. The slow drag of her fingertips sent shivers up her spine.

Lexa’s jaw clenched.

Clarke tilted her head, teasing. “If you want me to stop…”

“Don’t,” Lexa said instantly, voice rough.

Clarke let out a soft, needy sound in her throat. Then—almost unbearably slow—she rolled her hips against the counter, just slightly.

Lexa’s hands gripped the marble tighter. “Clarke…”

“I want you so bad,” Clarke whispered, head thrown back for a second. “But I want the green light more.”

That hit Lexa hard. The conflict in her chest was written all over her face. Desire. Frustration. Love. Longing.

“I don’t know how much longer I can be good,” she admitted.

Clarke’s voice cracked, husky. “Then be bad when it matters. For now…” Her eyes fluttered shut. “Just feel it.”

And they did.

From opposite sides of the bathroom, bodies aching, hearts racing, skin flushed. No contact. No words.

But more intimacy than a thousand touches.

A few moments later, Clarke finally stood up straight, face flushed and hair clinging to her cheeks. Lexa let out a shaky breath, loosening her grip on the counter.

They stared at each other like they had just survived a storm.

Clarke’s voice was a whisper. “I think we just broke a different kind of rule.”

Lexa smiled, slow and genuine, walking over to unlock the door.

“But at least we didn’t lose six grand this time.”

They shared a laugh—nervous, breathless, euphoric.

Then Lexa leaned in, whispering just behind Clarke’s ear, “Next time we’re alone like this… you won’t be the only one teasing.”

And then she was gone, walking out the door, leaving Clarke trembling and speechless.

Raven was mid-story, arms flailing as she reenacted something dumb Ontari had done earlier in the day.

Everyone laughed, including Clarke and Lexa, who had just returned, freshly changed and hair damp from a not-so-subtle “quick shower.”

“Where’d you two disappear to?” Octavia asked, smirking behind her sunglasses.

“Bathroom,” Clarke answered innocently.

Echo raised an eyebrow. “For that long?”

Lexa gave her a blank look. “Do we have a time limit?”

Anya sipped her drink and grinned. “Did you break another rule?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “No. We didn’t even kiss. We’re being very responsible.”

Raven narrowed her gaze. “You sure about that?”

Before anyone could add more, Allie’s familiar chime echoed through the villa.

“Ladies… it seems we have a bit of an unexpected update.”

Everyone sat up straighter, a few already groaning.

“As of thirty minutes ago, the prize fund has been reduced by… eight thousand dollars.”

A collective gasp rippled through the group. Clarke sat up fully now. Lexa froze.

“The reason? Self-gratification.”

Complete silence. Then—

“…Wait, what?” Octavia said slowly.

“Who the hell—?” Anya started, looking around. “That’s a thing we’re not allowed to do?”

“Correct,” Allie chimed. “Pleasure of any kind — including by oneself — is against the rules. Clarke. Lexa.”

Both women looked like they’d been smacked.

Lexa’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Clarke blinked rapidly, then stood up. “No, no, no — wait. I didn’t know that was a rule!”

“You mean to tell me…” Raven stared, stunned. “Y’all were off secretly getting off separately and still lost us money?!”

“We didn’t do anything to each other!” Clarke said quickly, looking around. “We didn’t touch, we didn’t kiss — we didn’t even stand that close! We just… existed in the same room.”

“But you existed a little too hard, apparently,” Echo muttered.

Ontari barked a laugh, then covered her mouth.

Lexa looked genuinely stunned. “I swear I didn’t know that counted.”

Clarke ran a hand through her hair. “I feel sick. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew. I thought we were being strong.”

“Intentions matter,” Allie said calmly, “but so do actions. However…”

Everyone turned back toward the voice with narrowed eyes and suspicion.

“There is a way to win your eight thousand dollars back.”

Now they were listening.

“Clarke. Lexa. Tonight, you will be sent to the private suite — a secluded, luxurious room designed for romance… and temptation. You will have the entire night alone. No cameras inside. No interruptions.”

Murmurs of “No way” and “Oh, hell no” flew from the group.

“If you can spend the night together with zero physical contact, you will win back every dollar lost. But if you slip… the prize fund will take another hit.”

The air grew tense.

“You’re really gonna trust them in a room together?” Octavia asked flatly.

“No way,” Raven added. “That’s a setup. They’re gonna combust.”

Clarke turned toward the group, her voice serious. “I get it. I really do. But we can do this. We want to do this.”

Lexa nodded. “We care about all of you. We don’t want to cost the group anything else.”

Hope crossed her arms. “So this thing between you two… it’s more than just messing around?”

Lexa’s answer came quick, calm, and strong. “Yes.”

Clarke looked at her, eyes soft. “It’s more.”

Anya watched them quietly, something unreadable in her expression. “Then prove it.”

Lexa turned to Allie’s glowing orb on the wall. “We accept the challenge.”

Clarke stepped beside her. “We’ll be stronger this time.”

“Very well,” Allie replied. “The suite will be prepared shortly. Good luck. You’ll need it.”

The girls muttered as Clarke and Lexa walked off. Some shook their heads, others exchanged bets. But behind the disbelief was something else — hope. A sliver of curiosity that maybe, just maybe, these two could pull it off.

And in doing so… show the whole villa what real connection looks like.

The sky had turned a warm gradient of amber and rose. Off to the side of the villa, tucked away from the chaos of the main lounge area, Octavia and Anya sat alone on a cushioned bench beneath a white pergola wrapped in fairy lights. A half-empty wine bottle rested on the table between them, next to a bowl of grapes no one had touched.

Anya leaned back with her arms crossed, her face unreadable as she stared off toward the pool where the others were still talking — some laughing, some arguing.

“I can’t believe they did that,” she said finally.

Octavia shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin there. “Yeah, I can. I mean… have you seen them? The tension? They’re one look away from combusting at all times.”

Anya shot her a look. “That doesn’t excuse it.”

“I didn’t say it did.”

There was a pause. The sounds of the villa echoed faintly in the background — Hope’s laugh, Raven’s sarcastic voice, a splash in the pool.

Anya sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I thought Clarke was stronger than that.”

Octavia tilted her head, watching her. “You mean emotionally?”

“I mean emotionally. Physically. Whatever way matters here. Lexa’s intense, yeah, but Clarke always seemed like she had more control. Like she was trying to build something.”

Octavia thought about that for a moment. “She is. She’s just… learning how to build it while fighting every instinct to tear it all down first.”

Anya gave her a raised eyebrow. “That was poetic.”

“I watch a lot of dramatic lesbian movies,” Octavia replied with a smirk. “But seriously. Clarke’s never had a connection like this before. Neither has Lexa. They’re fumbling through it like it’s a dark room and every touch might set off a bomb.”

Anya softened slightly, but her brow remained furrowed. “They’re going to be alone. All night. No cameras. No Allie voice popping in with a lecture. You really think they won’t break again?”

Octavia sat up straighter, her expression turning serious. “I do.”

“Why?” Anya asked, genuinely curious. “What makes you so sure?”

Octavia turned to look at her fully now. “Because Clarke looked like she hated herself for messing up. And Lexa? That girl has never looked more rattled than when Allie said ‘self-gratification.’” She chuckled slightly. “She was mortified. You could see it in her face. It wasn’t even about the money. It was about letting Clarke down. And letting us down.”

Anya looked at her for a long moment. “You really trust them.”

Octavia nodded. “I do. I think they’ve started to see this isn’t about lust anymore. It’s about something deeper. And yeah, that scares the hell out of them, but it also makes them stronger.”

Anya looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. “I guess I’m just scared too.”

Octavia’s tone gentled. “About them? Or about us?”

That made Anya pause. She glanced over slowly. “Maybe both.”

Octavia leaned in, resting her arm along the back of the bench behind Anya. “I know I joke a lot, flirt a lot… but when it’s just us, like this?” Her voice dropped slightly. “I feel it. Whatever this is.”

Anya’s guarded expression cracked just a little. “I do too.”

They sat in a long, comfortable silence. The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves overhead. Anya reached over and plucked a grape from the bowl without looking.

“If Lexa and Clarke can survive tonight,” she said finally, “I’ll stop doubting them.”

Octavia smiled. “Deal.”

“And if they don’t…”

Octavia nudged her with a small grin. “Then I get to say I told you so.”

Anya rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched up. “You’re insufferable.”

“You like it.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

They clinked their wine glasses together gently — not in celebration, but in hope. Hope that love, even the messiest kind, could be worth the risk.

Chapter Text

The heavy double doors creaked open slowly as Clarke and Lexa stepped inside the suite, the soft glow of mood lighting washing over their faces. The room was gorgeous—plush velvet bedding, silk drapes, low ambient lighting that flickered in shades of amber and rose. A bottle of wine chilled in a silver bucket on the side table. Candles (unlit) lined the perimeter of the marble bathtub in the adjoining open bathroom.

But what drew both of their attention was the tray laid across the foot of the bed. A tray… filled with temptations.

Feathers. Blindfolds. Massage oils. A small vibrator. Flavored lubricant. And a note:

“Everything you need… and everything you can’t touch. Good luck.” —Allie

Lexa gave a strained chuckle. “They really said psychological warfare.”

Clarke laughed, but there was tension in her body as she moved further into the room. “It’s like they want us to fail.”

Lexa closed the door behind them and glanced at the corner of the ceiling, where a single camera blinked red.

“One camera,” she said quietly. “Allie said it’ll track our progress… but not everything is going to be recorded.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “That sounds dangerously like a suggestion.”

Lexa smirked, folding her arms. “It’s a test. And we’re going to pass it.”

“But barely,” Clarke murmured, reaching for the wine. She poured two glasses, handed one to Lexa, and clinked them together.

“To restraint,” Clarke said dryly.

Lexa added, “And emotional growth.”

They drank.

A game of “Two Truths and a Lie” had turned into a slow, gentle unraveling of vulnerability.

Lexa sat on the couch, her legs tucked under her, eyes warm with wine and something more. “Okay… one: I’ve never been in love. Two: I got my first tattoo when I was sixteen. Three: I once had a threesome with two cheerleaders.”

Clarke laughed, tipsy and relaxed. “God. The third one’s too specific. That has to be true.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow. “It is.”

Clarke blinked. “Wait, what?”

Lexa just sipped her wine.

Clarke smirked. “Okay, then the lie is… you’ve never been in love.”

Lexa’s eyes held hers for a long beat. “Correct.”

Clarke paused, her breath catching. “So you have?”

Lexa looked down at her glass. “Not before this place.”

That silenced Clarke for a moment. Her chest tightened. “Lexa…”

Lexa looked up again, and this time, there was no teasing in her expression.

“I want to take you on a real date,” she said quietly. “Not here. Not on a show. Just you and me. Something simple. Dinner. Somewhere by the ocean. You in something flowy and ridiculous.”

Clarke bit her bottom lip. “You really want that?”

Lexa nodded. “More than anything.”

There was a pause, then Clarke’s voice dropped, rich with heat. “If you survive tonight without breaking a rule…” She leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of Lexa’s ear. “I’ll let you earn that date.”

Lexa exhaled sharply, gripping her wine glass tighter.

Steam filled the air as Clarke turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature until the water was just hot enough to make her skin tingle. She stood with her back to Lexa as she undressed, letting her robe slide slowly down her arms, revealing the gentle curve of her spine, the dim glow of candlelight on bare skin.

She slid into the water with a content sigh, letting her head rest against the porcelain.

Lexa watched her in silence for a moment, then began undressing too—slowly, deliberately, each movement a test of Clarke’s willpower. Her shirt hit the floor. Then her shorts. Then her underwear.

Clarke’s eyes followed every motion.

Lexa finally stepped into the tub across from her, knees bumping Clarke’s gently beneath the surface.

“You’re not playing fair,” Clarke said softly.

“I’m not trying to,” Lexa murmured.

They sat in silence for a long moment, water sloshing softly between them. Then, under the surface, Lexa extended her leg. Her toes brushed lightly against Clarke’s calf, then slowly, teasingly slid upward—stopping just shy of anything scandalous.

Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut. “Lexa…”

Lexa hushed her gently. “Don’t make a sound.”

Clarke opened her mouth in a silent moan, head tipping back, eyes half-lidded. She was aching with tension and need, but neither of them moved further.

Lexa’s gaze flicked up to the camera.

“We’re being watched,” she whispered. “Remember?”

Clarke nodded, cheeks flushed, lips parted—but she didn’t say a word.

Eventually, Lexa pulled her foot back. The air between them was charged, humming with restraint and fire.

Clarke and Lexa lay beneath the covers, facing each other in the dim light. Lexa’s arm wrapped protectively around Clarke’s waist. Their legs tangled gently, but nothing more.

Clarke’s voice was barely a whisper. “Thank you… for not pushing. For being strong.”

Lexa’s reply was soft, almost reverent. “You’re worth the wait.”

They drifted to sleep like that—wrapped in each other, in silence, in something deeper than lust.

And for the first time in the villa, they didn’t break a single rule.

One by one, the girls gathered around the circular lounge seating outside, dressed in shorts and bikinis, sipping iced coffees and smoothies. The mood was light—but curious.

Raven, always the blunt one, stretched her legs out over Luna’s lap and sipped her drink. “Sooo… you think they survived the night? Or did we lose more cash?”

Hope rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please. They were locked in a pleasure suite. Allie might as well have just set fire to the prize fund herself.”

Octavia, lounging back next to Anya, raised an eyebrow. “I mean, they’re hot for each other. I’ll be surprised if the bed didn’t break.”

Niylah looked unsure, stirring her smoothie slowly. “I think… maybe they really tried.”

Echo added flatly, “Tried doesn’t mean succeeded.”

Before anyone else could weigh in, the familiar ding echoed across the villa. A bright holographic projection of Allie flickered to life by the outdoor bar.

ALLIE :
“Good morning, ladies. Did you sleep well?”

Groans, laughter, a few eye rolls.

ALLIE:
“I hope you enjoyed your night of speculation. As you all know, Clarke and Lexa were given a challenge: spend an entire night alone in the private suite… with zero sexual contact.”

The girls tensed, exchanging glances.

ALLIE :
“Now. The results.”

Silence.

ALLIE:
“I’m pleased to announce… Clarke and Lexa passed the challenge.”

Cheers erupted. Raven threw her hands in the air, Luna let out a celebratory whoop, and even Echo cracked a rare, approving smile.

ALLIE:
“By completing the night without breaking any rules, Clarke and Lexa have earned back every dollar they lost.”

A new total flashed on the screen behind her:
PRIZE FUND: $100,000

Anya clapped once, smirking. “Okay… credit where it’s due.”

Octavia leaned over, whispering to her, “Told you they got this.”

Hope narrowed her eyes. “Wait… so they didn’t even kiss?”

At that moment, Clarke and Lexa appeared from the hallway entrance, dressed casually, freshly showered, hands just barely brushing as they walked side by side.

Raven raised a brow. “Well, well, well. Look who survived a night in sin.”

Lexa smirked but didn’t say anything.

Clarke, trying to suppress a grin, plopped down on the couch. “We played board games. It was riveting.”

Hope scoffed. “Bet the board was shaped like a dildo.”

Laughter broke out all around the circle.

Niylah, still watching Clarke closely, spoke more softly. “So… did you learn anything?”

Clarke glanced at Lexa, her smile turning softer. “Yeah. I did.”

Lexa looked back at her, eyes steady. “Same.”

There was a quiet beat where the others watched them—not with judgment, but with a mix of surprise and growing respect.

Allie’s voice returned.
“This challenge showed that real emotional connection requires trust, communication… and a little willpower. Clarke and Lexa proved they’re capable of building something deeper.”

ALLIE :
“Let’s see if that lasts.”

And just like that, the projection fizzled out.

The girls were lounging under umbrellas, a mix of bikinis and sunglasses, drinks in hand. The air buzzed with laughter and leftover tension from the suite drama.

Suddenly, a ding chimed through the villa, and Allie’s hologram flickered to life on the deck.

ALLIE :
“Good afternoon, ladies. I hope you’re ready for a little… shake-up.”

All conversation halted.

ALLIE:
“Please welcome two new contestants to the retreat. Remember, new people can mean new temptations… and more rule-breaking.”

A hush fell over the girls. Then, from the entryway of the villa, the door slowly creaked open.

First woman was stunning—tall, graceful, and confident. Her skin was a rich, deep brown that shimmered under the sun. Thick curls framed her face, bouncing with each step, and her full lips were glossed just right. Her bikini was a deep emerald green that clung to her body like it had been designed just for her. The second she stepped into the light, Lexa froze.

“Damn…”

Clarke, noticing Lexa’s reaction, narrowed her eyes slightly.

The woman took slow, measured steps, eyes scanning the villa—but they stopped immediately on Lexa. A sly, knowing smile spread across her face. “So… this is paradise.”

Lexa swallowed hard.

The second contestant arrives. She was already grinning, dressed in a playful navy bikini, blonde hair in a half bun, tattoos dotting her shoulder and wrist. Harper radiated charm and confidence, her arms slightly out as if she were arriving at a party she already owned.

“Ladies!” she called out, walking in with a wink. “Miss me?”

Raven, sprawled across a lounge chair, raised an eyebrow. “Who the hell are you?”

The woman, without missing a beat, strolled right up to her. “Someone who’s gonna make this a lot more interesting. I’m Harper”

She offered her hand, a flirtatious sparkle in her eye. Raven took it slowly, quirking an eyebrow—but didn’t let go.

Hope leaned over to Echo, whispering, “I give it ten minutes before those two are on top of each other.”

Allie continued, her voice cool and robotic.
“These new arrivals will be staying for the rest of the retreat. They’ll have the same rules, same restrictions, and same chance to win the prize… unless temptation gets the best of them.”

As the hologram blinked out, the girls started mingling.

The first woman made her way over to Lexa, who hadn’t moved from her seat.

“Lexa, right?” she asked, voice smooth as velvet.

Lexa turned slowly. “Yeah.”

Costia tilted her head, smiling. “Thought so. You’re even more beautiful in person. I’m Costia”

Lexa blinked, taken aback. “You know me?”

Costia smirked. “Not yet. But I’ve heard things. And I’m a fast learner.”

From across the pool, Clarke watched the interaction, jaw tight. Niylah, noticing her glare, gave her a sidelong look. “You okay?”

Clarke shook her head. “Fine. Totally fine.”

Harper leaned on the counter as Raven poured herself a drink.

“So… you single?”

Raven smirked. “Technically, yeah. Emotionally? Jury’s out.”

Harper leaned closer, voice dropping. “Good. Because I’m here to cause trouble.”

Raven glanced sideways. “You don’t even know me.”

Harper smiled wider. “Not yet. But I learn fast.”

Costia sat beside Lexa, their knees almost touching. “I get the sense you’re taken… but not committed.”

Lexa gave a tense laugh. “It’s complicated.”

“Good,” Costia said. “Because I’m not here to play safe. I came to win. And I’m not afraid to chase what I want.”

Lexa looked at her, trying to remain unreadable. But the tension in her shoulders said otherwise.

From a distance, Clarke watched with a storm brewing behind her eyes. Raven walked by and nudged her.

“You better lock it down before someone else does.”

Clarke’s lips pressed into a thin line. Game on.

Plush mats lined the floor in pairs. Incense burned faintly in the corners. The energy was different today—calmer, heavier, expectant.

The girls, dressed in tank tops, sports bras, and comfy shorts, trickled in with curiosity and a bit of apprehension.

Suddenly, Allie’s voice rang through the room, her hologram shimmering into view like a glowing specter of chaos and temptation.

ALLIE :
“Hello, beautiful people. Today, we’ll be exploring something you’ve all been tiptoeing around—intimacy. Emotional. Physical. Vulnerable.”

A beat passed.

ALLIE:
“And this time, I get to decide who you’re paired with. Let’s mix things up, shall we?”

A slow ripple of discomfort and anticipation spread through the group.

ALLIE :
“Lexa… you’ll be paired with Costia.”

Clarke’s breath caught audibly.

ALLIE:
“Raven… with Harper.”

ALLIE:
“Octavia with Anya. Ontari with Niylah. Hope with Echo. And Clarke and Luna…”

Allie’s pause was surgical.

ALLIE:
“You’ll be working solo for the beginning of this exercise. You’ll rotate in later.”

Clarke’s eyes snapped to Lexa, who was now facing Costia, both standing opposite each other on a mat. Clarke’s jaw clenched so tightly, her temples pulsed.

From the far end of the room, a tall woman entered—a challenge instructor, dressed in form-fitting yoga attire, calm and confident. She clapped once to grab attention.

INSTRUCTOR:
“Today’s workshop is about building intimacy. You’ll be engaging in a series of nonverbal connection exercises. Eye contact. Touch. Breath work. Vulnerability. No kissing. No groping. No sexual acts. Just intimacy.”

ALLIE :
“Let’s see how well you can control yourselves… and how deeply you’re willing to connect—without crossing the line.”

Each pair sat cross-legged on the mats, knees touching, gazes locked. The room was quiet but thick with tension.

Lexa and Costia stared into each other’s eyes. Costia’s expression was unreadable—confident, sultry, but grounded. Lexa, guarded at first, gradually let her shoulders relax. She wasn’t emotionally moved—yet—but she was undeniably intrigued. Costia’s eyes flicked down Lexa’s face, to her lips, then back to her eyes.

“You’re holding back.”

“You don’t know what I’m holding.”

Costia smiled. “That’s the point.”

Across the room, Clarke sat with her arms crossed, fuming, eyes locked on Lexa like a hawk tracking prey. Her stomach churned. She hated how pretty Costia looked sitting across from Lexa. She hated how Lexa didn’t seem bothered. And most of all, she hated that it was affecting her this much.

“Now, partners will sit behind each other. One person closes their eyes. The other uses their hands to explore—non-sexually—the arms, shoulders, back, the contours of the body. Focus on being present. On care.”

Lexa sat cross-legged as Costia moved behind her. Costia’s fingers brushed down her arms, firm but slow, grazing each tattoo on Lexa’s skin with intention.

“I like these… what do they mean?”

Lexa hesitated before answering. “Pain. Survival. Choices I can’t undo.”

Costia’s hands paused. “There’s a lot underneath that calm.”

Lexa smiled faintly. “You don’t scare easy, do you?”

Across the room, Clarke’s fists clenched in her lap. The way Costia’s hands were moving… the way Lexa didn’t move away… it was driving her insane.

Raven, paired with Harper, had her own challenge. Harper’s touch was featherlight, teasing, even while trying to stay within the rules.

“I’m being so good right now. You have no idea how hard this is.”

“Try harder.” Raven grinned

Now, Clarke was brought into the fold. She rotated through several brief exercises with different girls, but when she finally stood next to Lexa—after Lexa had already shared an hour of closeness with someone else—everything was different.

“Final exercise. Mirror movement. One partner leads with slow, fluid motion. The other mirrors exactly. No words.” Said the instructor, hands in pockets.

Clarke stood before Lexa. They raised their hands, slowly matching each other’s palms in mid-air. Their eyes locked—and it was electric.

Clarke moved her right hand; Lexa followed with her left. They circled each other without touching, every step slow, intimate, charged. Breath hitched in their chests. A thousand words passed between their eyes, and none were spoken.

In the far corner, Costia watched. She wasn’t threatened. But she was curious now.

Late afternoon. The girls sat on a sectional. Towels still wrapped loosely around their waists or slung over shoulders from their post-workshop showers, everyone looked relaxed… but the air was anything but.

Raven sprawled sideways, a water bottle perched on her stomach. Anya sat cross-legged, arms crossed, her eyes scanning the pool where Clarke had just stalked off. Octavia leaned into a pillow, snacking on a mango slice. Echo sipped iced tea, cool and observant, and Luna sat curled up like a cat in the corner, eyes dreamy but alert.

Raven broke the silence with a smirk.
“Okay, tell me I wasn’t the only one watching that mirror thing between Lexa and Clarke like it was a damn slow-burn movie.”

Octavia chuckled. “Please. The room temperature went up five degrees. I swear Lexa was breathing harder than when she did burpees on day one.”

Luna, calm as ever, tilted her head. “It was… intense. Not just heat. Emotion, too.”

Anya raised a brow. “And then Costia just hovers like a beautiful, curly-haired ghost of temptation. That girl’s not playing around.”

Echo, dry and blunt as always, added, “She’s not just hot. She’s smart. Lexa looked interested.”

Raven, raising her water bottle, muttered, “And Clarke looked murderous.”

Octavia turned toward Anya, nudging her lightly. “You and Lexa are friends, right? What do you think? Is she really into Costia?”

Anya was quiet for a moment, considering. “Lexa doesn’t fall fast. She’s not the ‘distracted by a pretty face’ type. At least that’s what she says. But Costia… she’s a test. A very well-packaged test.”

Echo, ever sharp, leaned forward slightly. “It’s not just about attraction, though. Clarke was jealous. Like… dangerously jealous.”

Raven grinned. “Oh yeah. That woman was two seconds from flipping a mat over and throwing hands. I thought she was gonna combust when Costia touched Lexa’s tattoos.”

Luna, brushing a damp curl off her cheek, added gently, “Do you think Clarke’s scared? Of how much she feels?”

The question hung in the air. Even Raven didn’t joke this time.

Octavia nodded slowly. “Maybe. Clarke flirts with everyone, but Lexa gets to her. You can see it. The way she tracks her in a room… that’s not casual.”

Anya, lips tight, spoke with quiet certainty. “Lexa wants Clarke. Period. But Clarke’s trying to keep her options open—Hope, Niylah… maybe out of fear. Maybe out of habit.”

Echo leaned back, arms stretched behind her. “Well, if Clarke doesn’t make up her mind soon, Costia might make it for her.”

Raven, eyes wide and amused, added, “Honestly? I kinda want to see Clarke crack. Like full on ‘I-can’t-take-it’ meltdown over Lexa.”

Luna smiled softly. “Or… maybe she just needs to surrender.”

Octavia lifted her mango slice like a toast. “To slow burns, sexual tension, and incredibly poor decision-making.”

They all clinked invisible drinks, laughter breaking out.

But beneath the teasing, they all knew one thing:
The Lexa-Clarke-Costia triangle was about to ignite something none of them could predict.