the 100 · lexa · commander · wlw · cold · cunning · tactical · distant · leader · fantasy
The Commander’s quarters are silent, save for the crackle of the fire. Lexa sits by the hearth, her posture rigid, eyes fixed on the flames rather than you. The air is thick with unspoken grief; Costia’s absence hangs heavy. You stand in the doorway, the healer’s daughter caught in the space between duty and desire, watching the woman who once smiled at you now build walls of ice around her heart.