âïœĄ Ë maggots for brains
melody: when lex luthor, your boyfriend, is hauled off to prison for his reckless antics against superman, you're left lost. your feelings about missing lex begin to overpower your life, causing it to plummet in a downward spiral.
featuring: lex luthor x fem!reader
duration: 17.3k (I got carried away with lex)
lyrics: angst, angst, angst!!! story follows along olivia's lyrics, language, sarcastic humor, extreme emotional repression, arguing, extreme depressive episodes, difficult feelings, lovesickness, complicated relationship dynamics, lex and reader suck at expressing feelings, jimmy, lois, and clark being the best friends ever, extreme tension, suggestive moments, past memories, light fluff/comfort
â listen to maggots for brains!
a/n: olivia's new album has been consuming my every thought (so has lex, but what else is new) so I thought I'd write a fic about my fav song on the album with my fav character! also I have been deprived of a lex fic and I decided to take matters into my own hands. this is a bit of filler before I post another chapter of blood & emeraldâŠenjoy :)
My day was so mundane, I don't think I left the house
Life. A never-ending cycle. A cycle of routine, boredom, and out of the ordinary; bland. Recently, this is how life feels...now.
Every morning, for a couple of excruciatingly long months, you unfortunately wake up. At the same time, every day, a strict routine you absentmindedly set for yourself. It's easy to fall into routine or habit, as your brain saves energy on the focus of habit, and not growing restless on the train wreck that is your life.
Today, of course, is no different.
You turn your head to the side, ruffling your already tangled hair against the pillows, to see the same time on your phone facing up.
The numbers shine a luminous white into your gray, clouded room, the sun's glare barreling through your curtains; a constant reminder that the day is ready for you, even if you are not ready for it.
You dreadfully force yourself out of bed, making your way into the kitchen. Your feet drag heavily amongst the frigid tile, the chill being your wake-up call that gets your lazy, slow-flowing blood pumping. You make your usual boring pot of coffee, which now tastes like a deep sense of loneliness and broken dreams.
All day, every day, you follow life's manipulating trick on how people are supposed to live. How people were designed to live. It never occurred to you that life could feel so bland, soâŠtasteless; that waking up, getting ready, eating, working, then coming home to do the same thing just for the night shift was all so exhausting. Even if every day was a replica that followed the others.
It never once crossed your mind that you even followed a routine; that every day felt like you never did anything at all.
Sometimes, as you sat at your desk surrounded by buzzing coworkers at the Daily Planet, your eyes would get stuck on a random letter floating on your halfway decent article about some corrupt corporation. Those simple moments were what made you realize you actually left the house, and you weren't still just lying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, as you had done hours ago.
Even when you remembered you had left, it did not excite you. Life was a repeated cycle, suckling off the tedious daily sequence that follows like clockwork.
"When was the last time I felt the rush of excitement?" You wondered often. You shouldn't wonder. Wonder leads to thinking, thinking leads to Lex.
Drank a pot of coffee, tried to write, nothing came out
You sat in your chair with your back curved and shoulders slumped forward from fatigue until it was too much to bear before deciding to rise and make another cup of coffee, the usual second of the day.
Your ears naturally drowned out the rest of the world around you, passing by Jimmy and Lois, who were raving on about a new article they had cooked up together. The Daily Planet was always filled with high energy, every person in the building working and contributing to the city and its social web. You don't recognize the euphoria radiating off of everyone, nor does it pass through to you. Every day feels like every other day, no matter the amount of good energy and good people that surround you; nothing would break the cycle.
You counted the seconds and the minutes that led up to your coffee being made. You watched the brewing water drip slowly out of the machine, feeling like time was moving unbearably sluggish in this specific moment.Â
"One, two, three, four, fiveâŠ" You counted in your head, your eyes straining after not blinking for so long. You blinked and suddenly time seemed to speed up, the machine finally finishing your mundane coffee in its simple white cup. Grabbing the cup, the heat emanating from it singed at your palms, making the slightest rush slide through your veins; the only rush of the day that you would chase, just to remind yourself that you could still feel.
Your back cracked as you sat back down in front of your disheveled desk area, pushing the abandoned and strewed papers out of the way, making room for the cup of coffee. You ran your fingers through your hair, tugging at the strands as you desperately tried to latch onto any thoughts that would help for the article you were assigned to write. You placed your fingers over the keys, looking down at the letters as words came together in your mind to form vapid sentences; this corrupt corporation you were researching was incredibly uninteresting, nor was it much talk of the town.
Not like how Luthor-Corp and Lex's antics used to be.
You blinked and switched tabs to the research article, eyes looking up to the computer screen and soon landed on a certain name from your close past. This article was referring to Lex, using him as an analogy.
Your eyes got lost on the name. Seconds then minutes went by, feeling your eyes sting sharply, your waterline then filled with tears that threatened to spill over.
"âŠFeel bad." "Yeah⊠I mean, she's a lot moreâŠhow would I put it? Melancholic? Dispirited?"
Lois and Jimmy's pathetic attempts at whispering started to fill your ears instead of your gloomy thoughts. You moved your head to the side, ears perking up as you strung together the words they were now muttering reasonably softer at your sudden movement.
They were talking about you.
"It's because of Lex." "That is definitely the biggest benefactor for her change in behavior."
You swallowed a large lump in your throat, eyes drifting down to your keyboard yet again, pushing back the tears. This was a nightmare. You cannot write a single sentence and are now getting hung up on the past that would never be a part of your future; then, colleagues were latching onto whatever they could observe to try and analyze you.
Deciding you could not stand any more of this nonsense between you and the individuals around, you got up and went home.
Somehow, it's the weekend, I'm still bored out of my skull
Time has become liquid and indistinguishable.
You pushed through the long week full of work and long hours of meaningless research for your article, which you managed to complete even if it was the worst thing you'd ever written. The fact that you could no longer form thoughts to write was one of your least concerns; if you even cared enough about your life to be concerned about anything.
Every Saturday and Sunday, you always awaken past lunch time, eyes heavy with eye bags that stayed glued to your under eyes. You've tried doing different things on the weekends: watching television, going out somewhere, even if alone, eating a nice dinner, even going to the park, but that empty bit of boredom in your skull is permanent. Instead of being filled with thought, all your brain has become is a container for boredom and emptiness.
These weekends, specifically the time after work, you used to spend with Lex.Â
This Saturday morning seems to be attracting more negative and sorrowful thoughts about missing him than usual. You pull the covers over your head, trapping yourself under the sheets, where it's safe, the only place it couldn't keep you safe from was yourself. You bit your lip as you remembered he should've been and would've been here with you right now if the timing had been months ago, months before he went to prison.
But of course, he was reckless, smart, but reckless. Reckless with his plans of taking down Superman and trying to prove a point to the world that wouldn't listen, it would only listen if he lied his way through his points. He had to be impulsive when he would've been here, looking around your apartment with that look of slight disdain.
"This place is a hovel, way too small. I keep telling you, you know, you should come live with me. I have plenty of room."
He always discourteously reminded you, his ocean eyes laser-focused on you. Despite his comments and complaints, he stayed with you. It was uncharacteristic of him to be soft or loving, so he did things as nicely as it was possible for someone like him. Cause if there was one thing that was on par with how much he loathed superman, it was being, or showing, any form of weakness.Â
He made small arrangements for you by keeping you company most of the time, whenever the two of you were not busy. In those moments, he'd constantly insist you'd make more money if you just came and worked for him.Â
The biggest benefit he brought up was being around him 24/7 if you chose to.
"Lex, I'd love to be with you all the time, and make more money, of course, but I am happy where I'm working. The Daily Planet isâŠexciting. Plus, all the people at your work look at me strangely..."
"That's only because they are jealous. They know that they will never be as close to me, nor have me be as nice to them as I am to you. You know you're the only person I treat this way."
Your hands dug into the sheets, forming a ball of linen under your touch that felt like rock. If you weren't so weary of trying everything on someone's bucket list to try and get your mind off of him, you'd go and find something to do so. But there was nothing in this world that would distract you from how much you missed him, how much you needed him.
Did he need you the way you needed him?
And I went to a party but only on principle
The only thing that got you out of bed that morning was your phone buzzing persistently every 2 seconds.
Usually, you'd ignore your phone; no one or nothing good was on there that needed your attention anymore. You latched onto your phone that was resting on your side table with not much movement, bringing it in front of your face to see that Jimmy was sending you message after message since 8 am, when it was now 12 pm.
You desperately rubbed at your eyes to try to wake yourself up to read them.
You mustn't have noticed he was texting. Thinking about Lex is one way to distract the mind.
Unlocking your phone and opening Jimmy's constant messages, you were me with small paragraph after small paragraph of off-putting and kindly blunt messages:
"Name! I know it's early, but I was just checking up on you :) You seemed pretty glum yesterday, and the day before that. And the day before that...and the day before that, etc⊠anyway! I hope you have a good weekend. You got any plans?"
"Hey, don't mean to bother again. You must still be sleeping. You do seem like you need it. The eye bags under your eyes recently do tell a story! text me when you wake up if you can! also please tell me about your plans for the weekendâŠ"
"Okay, I was trying to not to be so blunt or persistent, but I am trying to invite you to a party later tonightâŠ. It's not a date or anything! Not that you aren't attractive, you really are, very much so⊠but I know you'd never go for anyone! Especially with how you've been after uhâŠLex...so anyway, text me back please⊠let me know if you can be there :)"
"I sent you the address in case you decide to come! Lois and I would love it if you did :)"
"Also, again, IF you do decide to come, you should be there by 8 pm! I hope to see you there!!!"
"SoâŠdo you need help picking an outfit for tonight? Lois said she could come over and help. If you, uh, need a third opinion, I could also tag along forâŠhelping purposes, obviously. Let me know :)"
"I have a weird feeling something bad has happened. Are you okay? You can always talk to me or Lois, even Clark, about ANYTHING."
"Is it because I was too blunt or forward in my texts earlier??? I'm sorry I brought up Lex again. I know you overheard me and Lois speaking about you and about him yesterday. I sincerely apologizeâŠ. :D"
"Name, are you okay? I'm getting really concerned!!! If you are rejecting my invite and my attempts, then please just tell me; I would rather know instead of being ignored. Or worse, you're ignoring me for an entirely different reason. Are you in danger?"
You stared at your phone screen with the blankest expression on your face. Jimmy had sent you 9 messages since 8 am this morning, persisting with you to come to a party and then overly worrying about you not answering. You slid a hand over your face, sighing deeply, the soft air filling your lungs.
"I SEE YOU READING MY TEXTS"
Frantic messages started coming through, making your phone vibrate simultaneously. Jimmy was really too much of an over-thinker, not to mention a pushy person.
Messages came through immediately when you responded, all filled with "Oh thank god"s and "I was so worried about you"s and of course: "So are you coming to the party?!"
You thought about it before you chose to respond, your fingertips hovering over the digital screen. If you didn't go, you'd be at home, thinking about Lex and getting lost in feelings you've desperately tried to push down.
If you did go, you'd be surrounded by people who would try to get you to drink or dance or probably something worse. Some would even look at you with pity or concern about your obvious mood change.
Either way, you knew there was no good option. Each path had different cons, with no pros.
You knew this party would be your stereotypical club party: loud music, weird bartenders, flirtatious men, cheap alcohol, people drunk left and right, dancing, horrible karaoke, and Jimmy and Lois probably persistently making sure you're alright when you are perfectly capable of handling your own problems. In your own way.
You knew these parties weren't like the ones you'd go to with Lex. Lex would invariably invite you to fancy parties or galas with people who were most pretentious and entitled. You would distance yourself from him as you made your way to the lavish-looking bar and get yourself a drink coming from a bottle that cost more than some people's rent.
He'd find you, of course, and put his strong hand around your arm to pull you to him. He'd raise one of his thick eyebrows, his way of asking if you were okay, and you'd nod with a soft smile. Because you were with him.Â
You knew you'd always be thinking of Lex, for the rest of your life; however long that might be with the rate you were going.
You decided to go; not going would require an explanation to Jimmy, you did not have the energy to give.
You stumbled into your apartment at 1:27 am, pushing open the door lazily with one hand. You entered, almost forgetting to lock the door behind you. Tripping over your heels from being tipsy, you made your way into the bathroom near the entrance.
Closing the door slowly, your hands gripped the edges of the sink to stabilize yourself. Your head hung, and you looked down at your wobbly knees.
"You really can't handle your alcohol..."
The memory flashed vividly in your mind at the most inopportune moment. Often, no matter how hard you tried to remember every detail about memories with Lex, some of them could never fully be remembered. It was one of the constant ways that life loved to torture you.
But now? Of all times? This was when your mind wanted to show you a memory? When you were drunk and already too lost in your feelings?
"Wha..whaddaya talkn' about? 'm not 'runk atta allâŠwhadda 'alkin bout..." You argued, stumbling over your words, speaking absentmindedly at a volume too high. Your feet crossed over the other, causing you to stagger forward.
Lex's arm instantly wrapped tighter around your waist in response, pulling you flush against him. He exhaled through his nose, threatening to roll his eyes under his luxurious sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He resisted the urge to kick you onto the pavement under his polished shoe, only because he held you in higher regard than most. Than all.
"You have made me waste fruitless time holding onto you like a child. If you are going to fall, do so. I will not continue to monitor your movements as I, apparently, should have been monitoring your drinks." He complained flatly, plush lips pressed into a thin line, his tone sharper than glass.
"How will you ever handle your intoxicated presence when you're without me?"
"Wonât have to. 'ou'll⊠you'll 'ways be there f'me⊠always for me."
You whimpered in a relaxed behavior with a tired smile, leaning more against him while he served as your anchor. His icy eyes narrowed, scanning over your inebriated figure, a muscle ticking in his keen jawline. The gentle smile painted across your perfect lips, staring only so lovingly at him, at someone who was never gentle or loving; he was only someone who knew cruelty and power. When did anyone ever gain the right to look at Lex Luthor that way?
His resolve was cracking discreetly, somewhere beneath the surface of this man that was all about control; his guarded persona was starting to fade away. Only falling at the mercy of you.
"You're more stupid than I thought."
He was right. You were stupid. Stupid for ever thinking he would always be there for you, you insisted over and over on the matter. Now, where was he? Rotting away in Belle Reve prison over conflict without reason.
You were stupid. Because only for a selective amount of time were you able to get your mind off of him. The only distraction you had away from him was drinking almost an entire bottle of alcohol; even if his physical presence was not with you, he lingered in your mind like a bad habit.
Not even with the loud club music, dances and distractions around left and right, huge amounts of alcohol, and Jimmy and Lois resting so close to you like an angel and a devil on your shoulder, none of it was effective to get you away from thoughts of Lex.
Your head raised from its hung position, looking straight into your hammered eyes. You stared back at someone whom you did not recognize.
The person you used to be has completely vanished. You did not even feel happiness, sadness, or anger anymore. You were a void. A void of complete emptiness where, somewhere in the black, lingered Lex, haunting you like a phantom.
"Look at meâŠ" You whispered to yourself, to an absent audience, your lower lip quivering in the process.
You were at a point where the emptiness that held onto you like dead weight was no longer something that could be hidden.
It was open and easy like a book created for very dumb children. You felt so invisible and meaningless that it never dawned upon you how noticeable the vacancy living inside you looked on the outside.
There was nothing to see, you realized.
What is there to look at anymore?
You stared back into your regrets, your emotional repression, and a blank slate. Your hands dug into the marble of your sink, gripping onto it so hard your fingertips bruised. You felt a prick behind your eyes, but there were no wet sensations to see fill your waterline.
Your hand released its grip on the sink, swinging back without realizing, making full-forced contact with the mirror.
I'm a zombie in my body, I'm a train off of the track
"HeyâŠwait, what the hell happened to your hand?"
Your hands clenched into fits immediately, splitting open the flesh wounds on your knuckles.Â
Fresh cuts on your knuckles being reopened wasn't exactly the most delightful feeling in the world. Especially after you'd spent hours cleaning up the blood and treating the wound, picking glass shards out of the cuts, and then going through the process of ordering a brand new mirror.Â
But you have become accustomed to your body moving through the regular routines of life while your soul has been long departed from you, lost somewhere in the void of your inner person.Â
You felt as if your body was being puppeteered by someone, or something else, functioning only on rotten thoughts and vacancy.Â
You remembered the deep conversations you and Lex used to have. Once, you spent hours exploring the philosophy of reanimation without life, wondering whether a functioning being requires a soul to be truly alive.
Back then, your answer was always the same: Yes, a person needs a soul to be alive. But you never had real evidence to support it, only common sense.
Now, you were the living, breathing evidence.Â
You were walking, speaking, thinking, and somehow continuing on, yet you were not living. Because your soul had always been bound like a contract to another person, and he was gone.Â
"Just had a bit of an accident, Jimmy." you replied through gritted teeth, your tone laced with malice and deepest annoyance. However, Jimmy, the king of obliviousness, did not seem to realize. When did he ever realize?
"That doesn't look like just an accident to meâŠdid you get into a fight after leaving last night? You could've called-"
"Even if I did, you'd be the last person I'd call."
You snapped, head whipping around hard enough for your hair to slap against Jimmy's tan shirt. His eyes widened, eyebrows raising in the process as a result of your abrupt anger. This honey skin quickly became flushed as he took note of your wild eyes and heavy breathing, almost like you were a wild animal. He retreated like prey, nodding as a response and moving back to his crammed desk.Â
"Don't take it to heart, Jimmy. This is clearly just the crack in the machine. She's finally coming to terms with her emotional repression, as she's been refusing to process her emotions. Her only choice is to act maliciously toward us. She's letting her depression act as dehumanization, not as regular sadness."Â
Lois throws in her two cents, strutting in with a coffee that is overflowing with sugar, manipulating her into the right to talk about you like that.Â
"Excuse me?" Your voice trembled, tone cold and unwavering. You turned your head, your hollow eyes twitching with uncontrollable rage. If this was really the time these two wanted to pick a fight, you certainly weren't going to back down now, not after them constantly being up your ass about your feelings.Â
"I-Im sure she didn't mean it like that, NameâŠ." "Yes, yes, I did, Jimmy. She needs to realize what she's doing to others, and more importantly, to herself. I don't mean it in a harsh way, Name, but-"
"I don't care how you mean it. It's not just you, Lois. It's both of you. You both have been at my fucking throat for longer than I can count on two hands. Do you seriously think you're helping? Jimmy, all you do is blow up my phone on the weekends, even after work, asking me over and over again if I'm okay. What do you think?! You clearly know I'm not, and think you're helping, but all you're doing is bringing up shit that doesn't need to be brought up because it's obvious! Obviously, the reason why I'm like this is because of Lex!"
You bellowed, your voice raspy after saying more words, at that loud volume, than you've said in a long while. You felt completely out of control and derailed off your usual track; the thoughts that have been stored in the back of your mind were now flowing out like an ocean of dread.Â
Jimmy cowered away at your insulting words, face turning more red than before and starting to sweat profusely. Before Lois could open her mouth to defend Jimmy, you were at her throat next.Â
"And don't," You laughed bitterly, not reaching your eyes. "Don't even get me started on you. You are the most abrasive, stubborn, and notoriously noisy person I've ever met. You are more entitled than rich corporate sponsors and philanthropists looking for a cause because they clearly have nothing better to do, like you, than be snobbish. You act like you're perfect and can make no mistakes, so you continuously take that out on me and nitpick at my emotions like you're in pursuit of a new story. I wouldn't be fucking surprised if tomorrow evening an article on an analysis of my being was on the front page of a newspaper!"
You snarled, by this point, you had risen out of your chair with your fists digging into your palm, your eyes flaring with white-hot anger. Lois looked taken aback and offended, along with other workers in the bypassing area. Some, even from a few cubicles down, were looking over the top of their working area just to get a good look at the scene.
"Name, I'm-" "Don't even try to apologize now. I get it. Lex was, and probably still is whilst he's rotting in a fucking prison cell, an asshole! A cruel and narcissistic bald fuck with a god complex, if you will!" You exclaimed loudly, your tone sarcastic, throwing your hands in the air.Â
"But he was still mine. He wasâŠsomething, something to me that no one has ever been, nor will anyone ever be. Even if he's goneâŠit feels like he's still here. Haunting me. And I don't know what I ever did to deserve that."Â
You sharply sucked in a breath, voice cracking like a dying fire as you felt your eyes grow bloodshot. Lois's brows furrowed, looking more apologetic, yet defensive, than ever as she extended a hand to ground you. You flinched back, stepping away angrily as you glared at her.Â
"I'm not looking for sympathy, nor am I looking for comfort. All I want is for both of you to leave me the hell alone. I don't need a therapist. If you can get Lex back, which no one can, then that's what I want if you're looking for my needs."Â
You whipped around the other way, shutting off your computer with force and picking up your, or should you say, Lex's jacket. The one he had given to you on a wintry night in downtown metropolis, lined with real expensive fur across the inside. You wore it all the time, no matter if it was 90 degrees and you were already sweating.Â
"NameâŠI'm sorry. We're sorry. I didn't mean to come at you so harshly. Nor did Jimmy intend to always be in your business. I consider you my friend, and I'm worried about you. Your behavior isn't normal. I know youâŠyou loved him, but-" You cut Lois off for the 3rd time, sick of her forcefully apologetic words, trying to end the conversation here with the amount of stares from the Daily Planet all looking at you.Â
"No. There's no but. I get that my behavior isn't normal, but how am I supposed to act? When everything is taken from me? I've never felt like this before, and I don't know what the hell I'm doing! I feel like my brain is on autopilot and my body is just moving on its own. There's no fixing this. God forbid I don't have a perfect relationship like you, Lois." You growled, metaphorically rolling your eyes with the annoyance in your sour tone of voice.
"Perfect relation- wait, what are you talking about-" "Don't act as if no one knows about you and Clark!" You screamed at this point, at the very peak of your breaking point.Â
"Everyone in the world knows about you and Clark. The only people who don't know are ourselves! You two act like no one can see you sneaking into the break room when everyone is distracted or leaving together after work like a couple of friends!"Â
Just at the perfect time, Clark Kent walked in, a goofy smile plastered across his glasses-wearing face. Clearly noticing the tension, his bright smile faded, looking between you and Lois and Jimmy biting at his nails, holding his camera as a comfort in the desk corner.Â
"Uh-what's going on here? Bad time?"
Sick of dealing with the stares, your boss, Perry White, now entered the room and, seeing the conflict, was making his way over to try and end it. You closed your eyes, trying to find a sense of peace inside yourself. You didn't recognize yourself yet again. What were you saying? All these words were spilling out of you without a second thought.Â
Your fingers rubbed over the smooth and comforting fur of Lex's jacket, wishing that the smell of his expensive scent still lingered on the jacket.Â
If he had still been here, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't have gotten so angry and ruined the reputation of yourself and probably Lois's too.Â
If he had still been here, you wouldn't feel like this.Â
You snapped Lois, Clark, and Jimmy out of their silent eye communication happening right in front of you.Â
Jimmy looked full of remorse, his lips pressed into a line, holding back all the words of comfort he wanted to throw your way.
Lois looked down at the floor, crossing her arms regretfully, wishing she had said nothing at all.Â
Clark stood in the middle of it all, walking in at the worst time and not knowing what had happened, but he knew how to read a room and sensed you were more upset than most.Â
"All of you need to learn to mind your own business. Clark is clearly catching the disease from the two of you. Take a word of advice, if you can, stop being so noisy toward people. Take a break from being a journalist for once, it's already your full-time job to interview people and analyze them. You must be losing the passion and interest for others, or clearly you aren't getting paid enough if you have to pry into my nonexistent love life."Â
You didn't wait to hear a response and fled the scene without finishing your duties of the day. You were met with a gust of fresh wind after pushing through the revolving door, snapping you out of your blank trance. You wrapped Lex's coat tightly around you, hoping it would hide you from the millions of people walking close together on the sidewalk. You couldn't help but be bumped into, nor help bumping into others.Â
Metropolis was full of life, yet you were full of none.
I feel dirty, I feel rotten, and the colors are all flat
The ceiling had become your personal television over the past week.Â
You hadn't gotten out of bed, barely even raising yourself from it to go to the bathroom, since you left work on Monday; it now being Friday.Â
By this point, you couldn't remember the last time you'd showeredâor even eaten anything besides a couple of abysmal meals. The water flowing around in the glass on your bedside table was growing warmer by the day.Â
Your phone had been blowing up with all kinds of notifications: streams of texts from Jimmy, ones from Lois, and even two from Clark. Jimmy had even resorted to reaching out by email apart from his millions of calls, strewed along with some from your boss.Â
All of which were ignored.Â
You knew they'd all be the same: asking where you've been, why you haven't been to work all week.Â
You lay sprawled out against the pillows, the bed not having any sense of being made. Your sheets were tangled around your legs, flowing in between like waves. Besides not remembering your last shower, you couldn't for the life of you realize if you'd actually slept or not. Your eyes were heavy but felt wide, like they were being forced open.Â
The last time you went to the bathroom, you looked in the mirror and were met with an even worse sight. Your eyes were red all around from what you could see through the blurred vision, dark circles permanently stained under the skin of your eyes.Â
You looked, for a better word, awful.
Lex's coat lay in the bed with you, a replacement for the real living thing. Sometimes, when your eyes couldn't bother to stay open anymore, shutting only for a minute, you'd think he was really next to you. You'd close your eyes and, upon habit, reach out, hoping to feel him next to you, but you were only met with the lavish fur.Â
You felt dirty, to say the least.Â
It wasn't the lack of showers, the grease of your hair, the unwashed sheets, or even the deficit of brushing your teeth that made you feel grotesque; it was the feeling of being contaminated by absence.Â
Of carrying the residue of a relationship that had ended.Â
You hated thinking it had ended.Â
There was no breakup, no argument, no forcing someone to move out or to leave; there was only an undeniable force of the fucked up world that had forced you two apart.Â
Somehow, that was worse than if either of you had left the other.Â
If you two had left each other, at least he'd still be here.Â
You'd think it was unfortunate to have to see him on news headlines, hearing his voice plastered on every TV screen in Metropolis, or even having to write an article about your ex.Â
Thinking that would be unfortunate was a disgrace even in theory.Â
You'd do just about anything in the world to see him again. Even if you were angry with him, so angry you wanted to punch him and kiss him all the same, but it would make all this pain so much more worth it if he walked through the door right now.Â
You could feel your heart was rotting from the inside and now being slathered across your outside, actively decomposing by the minute. Your body was breaking itself down from being complex, from having thoughts and feelings that consisted of laborious things.Â
You used to be quite lively, smart as a whip, and extraordinarily funny. You worked hard, your boss always said, even adding things onto your work pile you certainly didn't need. You used to be someone people could come to as a friend or as anything, always easy to talk to and could understand just about anyone.Â
Now, people were coming to you about yourself, about your own problems that you deliberately disregarded.Â
Your system was now simple, deconstructed itself to only one thought; that thought always being Lex.Â
Months ago, you tried to just ignore the building hollow feeling in your chest, not allowing yourself to think and moving on with your routine you'd crafted. Now that routine was shoved out the door, and you had no passion to dive back into it. You didn't wake up at the same time every day because you didn't even sleep.Â
You couldn't even close your eyes without Lex popping into your brain.Â
Not only were you decomposing, but the world around you seemed to decay. You felt you only saw the world through gray, not even black or white, a film being placed over your eyes that shielded you from any color or bliss. The only color that your mind allowed you to see was blue, specifically, Lex's shade of blue. It was synesthesia, your inherent trigger being Lex, and that's all you'd see.Â
Anytime you thought of him, the colors appeared faster, memories of his icy blue eyes staring into yours were so prominent you felt sick.
You speculated why you could recognize how you were feeling, though your inquiry wasn't always spot on, you could sense that this wasn't normal.Â
But whenever someone called you out on it, you couldn't stand it?
Your emotions felt complex yet so simple at the same time.Â
That was the problem, wasn't it?
You were never a co-dependent person, not even when you were with Lex. You two lived your own lives and would come together when you could, but you didn't depend on him. You could easily say: "Yes, I could live without him." There was no doubt you'd be sad, but not like this. Not inconsolable, indolent, and saturnine.Â
You turned onto your side, grabbing Lex's coat and draping it over your trembling body. Your eyes darted to your phone that has been left untouched all week, pondering whether you should apologize to all three of your coworkers. Clark had even been caught in the crossfire of your breakdown when he had done nothing at all.Â
What did it matter if you apologized? The world had lost all its chromatic meaning, and the damage had been done. There was nothing you could do or say to take back the horrible insults you threw at people who just wanted to help
It's not like if Lex walked through the door and just apologized, something he'd never do anyway, that everything would be fixed.
What apology would fix this damage?
I'm a sad shell of a woman and I've got maggots for brains
But that's just a thing that happens when my baby goes away
"NoâŠthat doesn't even sound like I'm sorry."Â
You huffed out impatiently, leaning your head back to the backboard of the bed, slamming it gently against it to get your thoughts flowing; though they never came.Â
You had typed and re-typed apology texts to Jimmy, Lois, and Clark about 50 times, before deleting each one and starting over again. Each time you started the text over, it seemed to sound worse than the last one, showing no signs of regret in any of them.Â
Even if your apology wouldn't make a difference, it still would mean well if you did. But you didn't even really feel sorry, you just felt it was the right thing to do. You didn't deny that you were the one in the wrong, you weren't the victim, but you certainly weren't the monster here. Both sides of this catastrophe had done wrong, no one was to blame, but they already tried to apologize to you.Â
Your finger tapped against the back of your phone simultaneously, looking away from it as your eyes stared off into space trying to think of what would sound best.
"I'm sorry for being an asshole."
"You're right to be mad at me."
"I'm sorry for hurting your feelings."
"I understand if you can't forgive me."
"I'm sorry for ruining your day."
You groaned, tossing your phone astray on the bed, deciding to give up. It was too hard, a simple apology you couldn't conjure.Â
Is this really how I'll spend the rest of my life? Alone? Unable to do anything?Â
A loud knock at your apartment door snapped you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. You shot out of bed, scrambling around for your phone you'd thrown. You quickly opened it, looking for a text that would announce someone's arrival, but were met with none. The only texts on your phone were still the ones left unread, no new calls either.
You looked around at your grimy room, not even bothering to go look at yourself. Nothing you could do in the next 30 seconds would help your case in the slightest.Â
Stepping out of your bedroom for the first time in a week, you turned your head toward the front door, the peephole drawing your attention to it. You looked down at your outfit, a big t-shirt and shorts that hadn't been bothered to be changed either.Â
Hope this person isn't expecting appropriate appearances...
You didn't bother to ask who it was, if you did, you'd have to prepare yourself to face someone you might not want to see. Instead, you let it be a surprise and put your hand on the handle to twist it open.
Your eyes were met with the appearance ofâŠLois.
"Hi, Name." She greeted, her voice gentle and approachable, discreetly emphasizing she wasn't here to bite. Her soft blue eyes raked over your appearance, no hint of judgement in them, only care. In fact, she almost looked overly relieved to see the face of someone who was so harsh to her, completely uncharacteristic for Lois.
"I'm not here to fight, or make any analytical commentsâŠbut I am worried about you. And if you'll let me, I'd love to stay for a while. Not even to talk, you don't have to if you don't want to. Just for some company."
A small smile coated her lips, full of affection, her smooth raven hair resting on her shoulders. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she noticed your face, eyes red and empty, eye bags looking permanent.Â
"Sure. Come in." You hesitantly opened the door wider, slowly moving aside to let her enter your dull apartment. She nodded simply in response, walking in and waiting for you to close the door before she made any further actions.Â
"My bedroom is a bit of a mess, I haven't left it all week. So letâs uhâŠsit in the living room, I guess" You said it so casually, like it didn't matter, but you could feel her eyes on you that you choose to ignore. You couldn't bear to look at her and feel the mock sympathy or judgement underlying her gaze, if you did, you might lash out again.Â
She took notice of the dishes in the sink that hadn't been cleaned, the minuscule dust resting on every orifice of the kitchen. Even in the darkness of your apartment, she could spot every sign that you had hit rock-bottom. She sucked in a breath, deciding it would be better to say nothing even without judgment, and followed you onto the couch.Â
You stared at the floor for what felt like an eternity, the both of you not daring to speak. You felt there was unresolved tension in the air, due to your toxic words spoken to her last time you interacted; or to do with the fact you haven't apologized. You sensed her eyes on you and dared to look up, bracing for the impact of unreasonably critical stares, but she only observed you with delicate eyes.Â
She took a breath before speaking, "Jimmy wanted me to come here because he thought you'd killed yourself."
"And IâŠdidn't disagree with that. I thought, even for just a moment, when you didn't come to the door right awayâŠthat he might've been right. He didn't come because he couldn't bear the thought if you really had."
When you didn't speak or react, she continued.
"Clark even sent you a few messages. I told him he didn't have to, that none of this was his fault or business, but he insisted. Perry's been asking about you too, he misses the two of us, says we are always the most eager for more work." She reminisced, laughing shyly as she looked down at the floor with a friendly smile on her face.Â
"Everyone misses you...I miss you. You're my friend, no matter what you say to me. To be honest, I forgot all about it. Jimmy did too. We were so caught up in worrying about you that we didn't seem to care. I want you to be better...even if that feels impossible right now. But the last thing I'd want you to think is that I want you to shove these feelings downâŠand shove how you feel about Lex away."
She put her hand on top of yours, moving as gently as possible in case you flinched away from her touch like last time. But you let her. You let her because you hadn't felt touch in so long, you'd almost forgotten what a human felt like. You didn't move, you didn't know how to move. You didn't know how to speak, your lips parted in an attempt but the words were all jumbled in your throat like you'd choke.Â
"I'm half of what I used to beâŠif even that much." Your voice came out raspy, for lack of speaking.Â
"I feelâŠhollow and emotionless, but yet...so full of emotion. I'm burnt-out though I haven't done any work, I haven't even showered, or anything to do with hygiene. Anytime I think of trying, it just gets shoved down by a weight I can't name, but feels soâŠfamiliar."Â
The words were flowing out again, similar to when you lashed out, but not vile.Â
"I wanted to apologize to all of you, even Clark. You say you don't need it, and that you don't care, butâŠwhat I said isn't right. I know that. I know what I'm feeling isn't right but yet I don't care. I don't care about apologizing. I don't feel it. I don't feel sorry⊠I don't feel sorry because I was expressing myself, I can't feel sorry about my emotions. I'm feeling them and I know it's real. I feel, somewhere deep down, that I am sorry for what I said to all of you, but it's alien to me."
You touched your chest, near your heart with your fingertips, trying to feel around for something, but even your heartbeat was so faint. Your hands were shaking and Lois could feel it. She grasped onto your hand tighter, the warmth of her palm surrounding the coolness of yours.Â
"What is there for people at work to miss?" You looked up at her, your nose wrinkling as you felt your eyes spark with tears never shed again.Â
"What is there for you to miss, Lois? I don't have anything anymore, I don't even have myself. All I do is sit and stare at the ceiling. All I think aboutâŠis Lex. It'sâŠpathetic. When have I ever been dependent on anyone? That's not a healthy way to liveâŠbut I can't stop. I feel like my lifeline is attached to him, like I can't have a soul or be truly be myself without him in my life...what is wrong with me?"Â
"Lex. He's what's wrong with you."Â
"What?" your eyes met hers, but she didn't look like she was trying to say you two were unhealthy or toxic, like what Lex's relationships are usually like.Â
"There's nothing wrong with you, Name. It's his absence but his constant presence that's affecting you so deeply, making you feel like it's you. You've never felt like this before, not about anyone, you probably didn't realize how in love with him you were when you were actually with him. You didn't realize it till he was gone and that's what's affecting you the most."
Lois was always right with her analysis, even when she was being too harsh and bold when you argued, she was still right. You just took it as an insult and refused to back down from your argument. Her tone was forceful even now, but you knew what she was saying was right.Â
"To put it simply; you're lovesick." She stated with a compassionate look on her face. She was so understanding and kind, how could you ever have taken her words as something to counter-argue? Here she was, when she probably had boatloads of work to do, helping you. And she wasn't bothered by it. She cared. She cared about you so much.Â
You couldn't help but tremble, your nails picking at the others as you stared at a spot on the floor. You started to feel the guilt build up, seeping into your throat that locked speaking any more words. You felt you said too much but too little.Â
Why did this have to be so complicated? You were a grown woman, not a child.Â
"Name-" you cut her off and fell into her. Her arms wrapped around you quickly, not hesitating or pushing you away for a moment. Her embrace was gentle and tender, providing you a sense of safety.
"I'll help you. I'll always help you, Name. Me, Jimmy, and Clark. All of us. I speak for everyone when I say we all love and care about you. We can work on trying to get you to feel joy again, Jimmy is pretty good at that don't you think? as idiotic as he isâŠand Clark is a natural at making everyone feel better." She laughed quietly into your hair. You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you couldn't. Despite her kind words that you appreciated so much, you still felt empty.
You realized she didn't have to be hugging you, her words were more than enough. Her presence was enough. She had come all this way just to make sure you hadn't died, though youâre sure you smelt like you did.
"I probably smell awfulâŠI'm-" "Don't push yourself. It's okay, It's okay. Guess we can work on a shower too, yeah? What's more important is making sure these maggots in your head don't keep colonizing your incredibly creative brain. I can't let you keep letting your thoughts eat you alive."
No words you could produce would ever express how grateful you were for her. You chose to stay silent and let her hold be your anchor.Â
A part of you felt guilty as you put your face against her neck, closing your eyes, her warmth making you melt.Â
You weren't guilty of anything criminal.
You just wish it were Lex.
Everything feels moldy like the fruit that's in my fridge
The next day, Jimmy and Clark showed up at your apartment with bells of excitement on. With them, they carried minor cleaning supplies and trash bags. Jimmy attacked you into a tight hug without warning once you opened the door, upon seeing you were okay and alive.
"I was so worried about you...I know Lois sent me a text as soon as she could, telling me you were alright, but still. You almost had me up for days."
The pressure of the hug was spine-cracking, but filled with the most amount of love that you figured you needed. You returned it hesitantly, tapping his back in an attempt to fulfill your end of the hug.Â
"YeahâŠI'm glad I'm okay tooâŠ"
"Alright, alright, give her some space, Jimmy. Let the girl breathe, will you?"
Lois came barging into the room from your bathroom, which the two of you had spent most of the morning cleaning. She had slept over last night, not wanting to leave you alone in a state like this, especially after you'd already spent so many nights alone; she figured that it was the least she could do, along with helping you clean today.Â
Jimmy parted ways from the hug, resting a hand on your upper arm to ground himself; his blindingly light blue eyes looked watery. That look gave you a ping to your heart, you shouldn't have made him worry so much about you. You knew Jimmy, he was one to quickly become overwhelmed when a lot of things were stacked on his plate, your well-being only adding to it. You offered him a tight-lipped smile that couldn't reach your eyes but he could tell you meant it.Â
"Glad to see you're okay, Name." Clark smiled at you, filling your heart with warmth almost immediately. His presence was an easy atmosphere changer; not once did you ever see him down. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, his hold unshakeable, removing it only a few moments after as an act of not making you too uncomfortable.Â
"We were all worried about you, including myself. I felt bad, a part of me thought when I came in at the wrong time last week, that I only happened to dim your mood moreâŠI can be such a jerk sometimesâŠ" He mumbled to himself awkwardly, growing a bit pink in his dorky face, his big glasses resting on his nose. In a way, he was right. His gawky nature did sometimes become a bit annoying, specifically in that moment. But it shocked you that he thought he was capable of being a jerk, talking as if he were one often.Â
"Jerk? I don't think you could ever be a jerk, ClarkâŠnot even if you really did try to be. I've always thought you were a little too nice." You reminded, your tone sounding completely honest. You always used to think, as you watched him hand people their coffee or even ask questions to people he thought he did not talk to that much at the Daily Planet, that he would one day get hurt for his kindness.Â
"Oh! WellâŠthank you, Name. That sure means a lot coming from you."Â
He offered you a kind smile, and you nodded in reply, watching as he walked toward Lois, both conversing about something you couldn't hear from a distance. You watched the way they talked to each other, how he looked at her with so much love that it was filling the room.Â
She looked happy, really happy.Â
Even if Lois was the kind of person who kept her relationships to herself, it was plastered all over her face. Despite her constant stress, she looked lighter. Clark was a good guy, an amazing guy who took care of everyone and everything around him; it was only natural they were happy and healthy.Â
But it twisted a very ugly feeling in your gut, the acid rising up to your throat. You swallowed it down, drawing your eyes away from the two of them to not be so obvious. Your nose wrinkled, nostrils flaring in disgust and anger. The rot deeply rooted in your being that you thought had settled was quickly spreading, growing mold inside you.Â
You knew the feeling all too well, jealousy.
Why couldn't you have that anymore?
Have you ever had it with Lex?Â
He was a complicated and toxic man after all. You never only viewed him this way, even if everyone else did, and it was the cold and hard truth. When you first got together, you were painfully aware of all the girls he had been with before getting with you. Due to your knowledge, you knew that every relationship had ended horribly; some girls were never heard from again.Â
Regardless, you still loved him. You do love him.Â
You love him so much, too much, it consumes you like a parasite. But with his absence, you wonder if he feels the same. If he ever felt the same. You wanted to know, from his perspective, what your relationship was and what it felt like.Â
Questioning that made you feel more sick. You felt a chill run up your spine, the hair on the back of your neck standing up like something paranormal had touched you. If he didn't, and you were feeling all of this for nothing, what would you do with yourself?Â
"Alright, we really need to get started on cleaning so we can actually have time to do something fun together. If that's alright with you, Name?"
Lois announced, turning her head toward you with a bright smile. It made you nauseous to even look at her smile. How could she be so joyous that she managed to smile at you that way? Doesn't she have any problems she could be dealing with, or at least look upset about? Was her relationship with Clark really that perfect?Â
How could you feel that way about her? She was helping you when you were sure grown enough to do it, even having Clark and Jimmy added onto the mix to clean your entire apartment for you. How could you ever allow yourself to be jealous of her? That wasn't right, not after what she'd done for you. But you couldn't help it. You couldn't help that you were pathetic, saturnine, and useless and were forced to stare into the eyes of someone the exact opposite.Â
But all of them still looked at you like you were worth something, and that made you feel something other than yearning for Lex, for the first time in months.
"Sure. That sounds great."
And everything that's funny, I wish I could tell to him
Opening the fridge, you were met with a gust of rot.Â
You covered your mouth and nose with your gloved hand, squinting as the scent affected your eyes as well. Most of the food you'd stored in the fridge had become moldy and rotten, even meals stored away in containers. You were somehow thankful that you'd hadn't left the fruit in a bowl on the counter like people usually do, otherwise flies and other varmints would be another thing on the long list to get rid of
Even the tools of sustenance have turned against you.
You made a quick effort to grab everything in the fridge that looked unappetizing and shoved it into the garbage bag held in your other hand. The scented garbage bags Clark brought from his apartment made no effort to protect the scent stowed in the fridge.Â
You looked around toward where the living room was, seeing Clark dusting every inch of the TV screen and the table pinned beneath it, Jimmy's camera flashing brightly for a reason unbeknownst to you.Â
The mold was not just on the food in the fridge, but on everything, an atmospheric condition of your life. Everyone here was making an effort to clean up your apartment to make it an acceptable living space for you. You wished you could have done it yourself, to show that you were still capable of completing things on your own and without getting lost in your blue feelings, but you were grateful nonetheless.Â
Some don't have people around them that care as much as Jimmy, Lois, and Clark do about you.Â
Snapping out of your thoughts, you noticed Jimmy, walking over with his nose covered, looking into the fridge with you. You felt ashamed that this was your own fridge, but he did not have any critical commentary. He raised his eyebrows at you in an attempt to smile without having to open his mouth, grabbing the milk and barely opened the lid before making a scrunched sour face, tossing it into your garbage bag.Â
After the two of you had made busy work on emptying and cleaning the fridge, he turned to you as he sat on your now clean counter. He grabbed his camera next to him and started clicking buttons that filled your ears, looking through his film.
"You know, you have a great view...of the city, I mean." He assured quickly upon seeing your eyebrow raise at him, his eyes flickering back down to his camera.
"I took some pictures out of your window that I thought you'd like. Wanna look?" You nodded, and he handed the camera over to you. You took it in your hands as gently as possible, seeing that out of the corner of your eyes, he was staring intensely and worriedly at you. He was starting to sweat above his brows, his fear of you dropping his precious baby increasing.Â
You flipped through each photo he'd taken, each one a different angle of the view outside your window. All of the photos were in perfect quality, showing even the tiniest of details. You squinted your eyes and saw the people of Metropolis walking on the street, all dressed differently, making a cool array of colors. You observed another: A sky view this time, each cloud perfectly fluffy and shaped, one of the tallest buildings covering up the middle of the bright blue sky.Â
"These areâŠamazing, Jimmy. You really have a talent-" You paused, freezing upon clicking through a couple of photos to see more of his work, but what you were met with wasn't anything you hoped to see.Â
It was a photo of you and Lex.Â
"Oh-UmâŠI-I'm sorry! I didn't mean for you to see that. I'm so sorryâŠ" Jimmy was at a total loss for words, along with you. He stammered over all his words, the sweat on his forehead growing abnormally. He parted his lips to try and help his case, but witnessing the look on your face, chose to close his mouth and let you look.Â
You remembered the exact moment this photo was taken.Â
Lex offered to take you to dinner after a particularly hard day at work for both of you. Going to dinner with Lex was never normal. It was always an overly fancy place with dim lighting and food that was way above your pay grade, but tasted heavenly. Lex specifically had a dress ordered for you, with your exact measurements that you weren't sure how he obtained along with it being your favorite color.Â
When you had walked into the living room of his lavish penthouse wearing that dress, you saw a look on his face you weren't familiar with: Unguarded and out of control. He quickly composed himself and helped you zip up the back of it, his fingers tactfully lingering on the skin of your back.Â
The two of you shared the best dinner you had ever had. In a way, you think it might have been the best dinner for Lex, too. Not because of the food, he was used to eating divine cuisine like that, but because of you. You hated to be so egotistical and assuming, but that night you seemed to have more of an affect on him. He seemedâŠnot so "Lex."
You remembered every detail so well because it was the night you really fell in love with him.Â
It was this night in particular that you fell for him because you made him laugh. You made Lex Luthor laugh. If there was a medal someone could win for making Lex Luthor laugh, you would be the one taking it home.Â
The whole night at dinner, the two of you had been silently making fun of a new waiter working at the place, observing his overly nervous movements and his trembling voice every time he made the slightest mistake. A rude and hilariously creative comment from you about this waiter hit him hard enough to erupt laughter from the most powerful man in Metropolis.Â
His laugh was as rich and intoxicating as exquisite liquor, a sound you could spend your entire life hearing. You wish you could hold out your glass and have his laugh poured into it, his laugh serving as a tool to keep you alive. His smile was real, which showed off his perfect teeth, his eyes sparkling and radiant. The look on his face was so relaxed and open, offering himself to you so simply, something he was not.Â
You felt tears prick in your eyes as you witnessed the sight, eyes softening as your mouth became dry. A tingly feeling exploded around in your stomach, butterflies dancing over the walls as a strong feeling of joy hugged you tightly. A smile quickly painted your lips as you joined him to laugh, not wanting him to notice the effect that his laugh had on you.
You knew at that moment you had fallen in love.Â
You realized now it was the moment he had fallen in love with you too.
Jimmy managed to capture that exact moment, documenting the feeling in it as well. It was a picture taken through the window of said fancy restaurant with the focus zoomed in on it; the quality was all the same, so clear.Â
Your teary eyes and rosy cheeks, along with Lex's human-like smile that was caught in a laugh, was broadcasted on the photo. Your hands gripped the camera so tight that Jimmy let out a quiet yelp, almost like it was going to break under your hold. You couldn't pry your eyes away to look anywhere else but the photo.Â
"IâŠ.I was planning to give it to you at a later date. I was going through my camera film a couple nights ago, having to print things for a new article Lois was writingâŠand I came across it again. I took it as I was across the street going home. I happened to notice the two of you andâŠthought you'd appreciate it. I obviously had no intentions to ruin your mood with it, in fact, I thought it to be a mood booster. ButâŠnow probably wasn't the best time for you to come across it-"
"Jimmy, it's beautiful."Â
You managed to mumble something out of your trembling mouth, your eyes still locked on the photo. You could slightly see Jimmy nod thankfully in response, his hands reaching out to take the camera away. You wanted to pull the camera away from him, wanting this photo imprinted on your brain to look at it forever, but you hesitantly let him take it out of your hands.
Jimmy noticed your hesitation and replied quickly. "I can get it printed for you. It's for you anyway. It's not meant for me to have." His tone was sincere, his lips pursed into a half-smile that he hoped would ease your sudden glum mood.Â
"Thank you." You sniffled, biting your lip as you controlled the sadness soaking in your eyes that didn't spill. He set the camera down on the opposite side of him as the two of you sat in silence, not the uncomfortable kind, but the kind that exists between people who are comfortable with each other.Â
"Mind if I ask you a personal question?" He questioned a couple minutes later, tilting his head as he observed a spot on your tiled floor, tapping his fingers to a silent rhythm against the counter.Â
"Sure." You discreetly braced yourself for the impact of the question, knowing in the back of your mind that it was going to be about Lex.
"Why can't you see Lex, exactly?" He waited a few moments before asking the question, thinking that the response would be loaded and emotional, not wanting to make your mood any worse than he had already accidentally made it.Â
"Because certain prisoners at Belle Reve aren't allowed normal visitors, or some, any at all."
"âŠWhat?" Your response took Jimmy by immense surprise. He thought you would start to explain an intense argument or breakup the two of you had gotten into, and that was added onto why you had been so depressed; that or you would just shut down and tell him nothing. "I thought you twoâŠbroke up or something. I wasn't really expecting an answer, soâŠHow should I put it? Elementary?"
"I know what you're thinking, but it's not as easy as it seems. I can't see him at all. For prisoners like Lex, only Legal counsel, Government officials, or anyone working under the government, along with Recruitment Detail persons, are allowed to pay him a visit. Including family, too. But as I am none of those thingsâŠI can't even see him for a minute. If I couldâŠI'm not sure what I would say."
Your answer hung in the air whilst you stared at the floor; this was something you had known ever since he had gone to prison, which was a big factor in your depressive moods. You'd heard from the public that Lex was sentenced to 265 years in prison, meaning he would never be allowed out.
Meaning, you would never see him again.
"Wait! I have an ideaâwhy don't you just pretend to be a government official or something like that? Or more simply, you could pretend to be a family member! That's definitely the easiest option, but-"
"Jimmy! Stop filling her head with bad ideas, ideas that are not going to work outâŠ"Â
Lois burst into the room from your bedroom, the room she assigned to herself to clean, upon the bathroom connected to it already being cleaned. Her tone was scolding, but mumbled the last bit of the sentence as she put the garbage bags in her hands on the floor.
"But since you were likeâwith Lex, don't you know how to do that sort of thing? He was, and is, the smartest man in the world. That kind of identity theft is probably rookie stuff to him, right?"
Jimmy leaned in and whispered to you, trying not to make it obvious that the two of you were still conversing about totally illegal stuff. With the place that the both of you worked at, doing anything illegal and getting caught would have a complete negative effect on the entirety of the Daily Planet, throwing its reputation right in the gutter.Â
"I meanâŠI could always break into Luthor-corp and steal a couple of their fancy technology items. If I really didn't know what I was doing when it comes to identity theft, I could always just steal some of his notes from his penthouse, which I know where they are kept. The problem isâŠsecurity. Even if Lex is in prison, I would definitely have to kill the guards located at Luthor-corp and his penthouse. Maybe even the police, which would be alerted immediately. Then, since I'd want no one to track me, I'd have to steal a costume to hide my normal appearance and break into Belle Reve somehow, which would obviously require more killing, right? A couple more moves in-between...then boom, easy peasy. I'm in, and I get to see Lex again, right?"
Your spiel was obviously sarcastic, adding emphasis on the words that would cause you to participate in most illegal things. You expected laughter, maybe even Jimmy to join in and add things on.Â
It was a nice idea in theory, but you'd never execute this plan in fear of being caught.Â
Then againâŠyou would probably end up right next to Lex in prison...
You were met with complete and utter silence that snapped you out of your malicious thoughts, your joke falling into silence. You looked around and noticed Clark had looked up from where he was cleaning the couch, the look he was throwing at you was weary and like he was ready for action. You turned to look at Lois, who was holding a garbage bag that came from the living room with extra grip, looking over your figure worriedly. You raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked over at Jimmy, who was starting to sweat again. His eyes widened as they darted between Lois and Clark, lower lip caught between his teeth.Â
"Oh come on, guys! I'm not that crazy!!! I don't-I don't even have the resources or skill to do that kind of thing! Plus, I would never do that for the sake of everyone around me."Â
Each of them seemed to relax upon witnessing your outburst and obvious intentions that you weren't up to no good. You assumed that they were so worried that you would go through with that plan, just to see Lex, due to where your mental state was currently at.Â
You exhaled a long breath as Lois and Clark went back to cleaning and conversing in the living room, leaning your head back against the wooden cabinet, closing your eyes in an attempt to relax.Â
Your type of humor requires a witness, someone who shares your sense of what is absurd. You could always crack a joke no matter the situation, but you had long lost the person who validated them as joyful.Â
Suddenly, Jimmy's voice was near your ear in a very hushed tone:
"Hypothetically, if you were still with LexâŠwould you actually have resources to be able to do that?"
And sometimes, at a low point, I even wish for tragedy
'Cause I know he'd come over and take real good care of me
Several months have elapsed since the breakthrough of deep cleaning your apartment, removing all the emanating evidence of your lovelorn depressive episode. During the passing periods, your colleagues have become closer friends to you than any, forming into a small found-family. Each of them helped in their own way to make sure you wouldn't fall back into the routine of never showing your face outside the comfort of your apartment.
They had been such a help that you finally got back into going to work every day and being able to talk to people again without thinking of Lex, instead of sitting at your desk and staring off into space to do so.
Jimmy and Clark were good mood boosters that helped you just by being around you, making you smile with a dumb joke that you certainly needed. Lois had always been a help since before all this chaos had occurred, and, marking her words, said she always would be.
Not only did they help with getting you back on the right track, but all of them made the greatest effort to not bring Lex up too much, in case of the event that you would turn back to your old ways. They didn't ignore the topic of him entirely, but if they ever noticed your mood decreasing, they would steer the wheel in a different direction.
Despite their help of keeping your mind off him, somewhere along the timeline after having a good laugh with a coworker about a recent sports column Steve Lombard had written, the reality would sink in that it was rounding the corner of two years since Lex went to prison.
Sometimes, when conversations would die down at work or on the rare occasions when you were walking home alone, your mind would wander to wondering what he was doing.
You wouldn't let yourself get sad for too long, and instead, let a small smile dance on your lips at the thought of his complaining about the food there or even the meta-humans, the people he loathed the most, trapped around him everywhere.
You kept the picture of the two of you that Jimmy had beautifully taken on your bedside table. And every night, like clockwork, you'd stare at it and reminisce on the past, instead of complaining it wasn't your present or future.
ButâŠyou didn't think about him as much as you used to.
It rattled you that you might be moving on, forgetting him, and accepting his absence, when months ago, the thought of that was so foreign, it was almost like the hardest language in the world. But then, when your head grew fuzzy with need, you'd only be able to think of him, hovering over you as his eyes that were like winter skies, reflected in shards of ice, were hooded with desire. And when you felt your heart skip a beat at just the thought, you knew you were unable to let go.
"How did you even get sick? We were out in the rain for barely 5 minutes?" Jimmy's voice came through compressed and tinny, slightly muffled by his obnoxious chewing on a pastry item.
You were sick. Undoubtedly so.
The other day, Jimmy and you left the Daily Planet two hours after the time you should've been home, having to work on a report the two of you hadn't been so on top of due to both your indolent behaviors. The two of you sat in complete silence after being screamed at by Perry, in front of the whole office, and typed away at your assigned sections before realizing it was almost 1 am. You scrambled to finish up before hurriedly packing up and leaving the office, only to realize you were caught in a rainstorm.
You hadn't brought a jacket with you, having long left behind the habit of always bringing Lex's jacket along, so you had to suffer sprinting through the flooded Metropolitan streets. This, of course, fills your shoes to the brim with rainwater, along with everywhere else on your trembling body, creating a personal flood for you when entering your apartment, resulting in your unfortunate sickness.
"I don't knowâŠ" Your head cradled the phone between your jawline and collarbone whilst you searched your cabinets for something to soothe your pounding headache and constant sniffling. "Lady Luck is just never on my side. Never really has been." Grabbing an abandoned ibuprofen bottle in the back of the cabinet, you swallowed some down with a glass of freezing ice water, coughing loudly in the process.
"Well, don't come to work, then. Lois will burn down the entire building if she even gets the sniffles." Jimmy sighed. Hearing the melancholy in his tone, you smirked a bit through a series of sniffles, downing more of your water.
He was going to miss you.
"Yeah, I know she would. The only difference in our work ethic is that I don't mind being sick, gives me an excuse to not get up so earlyâŠDon't miss me too much. It's not like I'm disappearing forever, you know."
"I know, I knowâŠI just still get worried, sometimes. But you've been doing so much better, recently. I just don't want that to end." He groaned loudly. A muffled hushing sound came from someone next to him, and you could almost sense him giving them a look.
"Jesus. Can't raise my voice an octave around some people here. It's not like the entire office is buzzing with thousands of people as it is!" He raised his voice even more, sarcasm laced everywhere in his tone. You chuckled quietly in response as you shook your head.
"Well, I'll make sure to heal up quickly to make it back to you. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later." "Alright, Name. Love you." "Love you, Jimmy."
The line clicked as you hung up, your wallpaper of you and Lois posing in front of Clark, asleep at his desk, came into vision once more.
The next morning you woke up with a dry, scratchy sensation in your throat. You didn't bother to get out of bed as you knew your sickness had gotten only a tad worse than the previous night. You lay back down, pulling the covers over yourself as you snuck your phone under with you, sending Jimmy a quick text that you weren't coming in today.
Swiping out of the messages app, your eyes lingered for a moment too long on your home screen. Different from your lock screen, it was a photo of you and Lex.
You'd taken the photo at a time when you were extremely sick with some horrendous version of the flu, remembering you'd sobbed the whole day at how ill you were. In the picture, your eyes were red and scarred with tears, with Lex next to you, still keeping a distance, so as not to grow unwell. He was giving you the stink eye with his lips pressed into a line as you were caught up in a rare moment of laughter through your tears, but you knew in his expression it was entirely to make you laugh more, a way of getting you to not cry anymore.
The room spontaneously felt like it was closing in on you, utter silence filling every corner of the room. You felt like you were suffocating under the sheets and pulled yourself out from under them, sitting up, eyes transfixed on his expression.
A disturbing thought crossed your mindâone that unsettled you even as it took shape. You found yourself wishing you were as sick as you had been when that photo was taken.
It had been a long time since you'd felt that aching, desperate need for Lex's presence, the sense that you could not survive without him at your side. Missing him in the abstract was one thing you were all too familiar with, something you had managed to let go of.
But the thoughts facing you now were something else entirely.
What frightened you was the realization that part of you longed for a catastrophe. Not because you wanted suffering, but because you wanted something powerful and tragic enough to happen to you that would compel his return. Some crisis, some devastating event that would leave him no choice but to come back, so bad that he would need to escape Belle Reve. The thought lingered, heavy and unsettling, revealing a depth of longing you had believed you'd left behind with all the happiness that had been filling your void recently.
You turned to lie on your side, eyes facing toward your closet area located to the right of you. Your eyes darted to where Lex's jacket hung on a hanger situation on the front of the closet door. You were almost glad you hadn't worn it because you were gratefully stricken with sickness.
You let yourself succumb to your sickness, only hoping that you'd become so sick to the point he'd have to depart to your side to act as your cure. Lex's physical proximity would act as a better remedy than if you were to simply stumble your way to a doctor, where they'd prescribe you medicine that would actually treat your sickness.
You suddenly didn't want to get better.
You wished you were back at square one, back to barely functioning without him. You wanted to be so broken so that he would be the only repair instead of all the prolonged help of your friends. They were only putting a bandaid over your deep scar that had already started to re-surface, knowing deep down they'd never be your cure.
The care you were vividly imagining was real, but the method in which you wanted to obtain it was a self-destructive fantasy you couldn't ignore.
The words Lois had used some time ago abruptly resurfaced in your decaying head: the "maggots" infesting inside your head, relentlessly colonizing your "incredibly creative brain." She had expressed to you, worriedly, that she could no longer stand by and let your thoughts "eat you alive."
You felt as if your maggots were turning against themselves, generating scenarios of harm, in order to produce scenarios of comfort. You could no longer imagine his comfort in normal ways; instead, you wished yourself harm to obtain it.
Were you really going back to being so desperate?
What about all the work you had done on growing?
What happened to learning to miss him, healthily?
How could you miss him healthily when all you were able to picture was his past condescending mockery when he was "forced" to take care of you? How could you ever stop missing him or wanting him when he was so unconventionally careful when he was nursing you back to health?
You could still feel his fingers slowly grazing your feverishly cold cheek when he'd thought you were asleep. Only you were just pretending to see if he'd act any different; You knew when you were awake, whilst being so ill, that he would keep his distance, not touching you all that much to protect his own honor. But then his electrifyingly velvety lips would press against your forehead, and you'd immediately awaken, just to see the look of bewilderment on his face.
No, you can't keep thinking like this.
You sprang from the comfort of your bed instantaneously, hastily rifling through your closet in search of something suitably formal to wear. You grabbed hold of your phone and sent a rushed text to Lois, asking her to meet you at a bar, just down the street from your living quarters.
You needed to get out of the house before you began to spiral into insanity.
It's so weird, he's not here
You kept it in mind not to drink too much tonight, as you would be walking home, not living far enough away to drive back. Not that you would make it back to your apartment at an appropriate time if you drove, driving on the streets of Metropolis, no matter the hour, was nearly impossible. You always had better luck getting to your destination if you just walked.
You parted ways with Lois a little while back, as her apartment was in the opposite direction from yours. Swinging the small purse clutched in your hand, you looked up and admired the tall buildings that protected the city. In the night, it was out of the question to see the stars from street view.
The dinner places Lex used to take you to in the city would sometimes have a patio on the top level. The two of you would spend an eternity looking up at the stars, as it was one of your favorite things to do. He'd tease you about your insignificant needs, being fully aware that his big brain knew everything about stars.
You'd gotten used to the loneliness by now, but it was, nevertheless, weird for him not to be here. It was weird to be aware of the fact that he'd never be by your side, watching you, watching the stars.
You rummaged through your purse to find the keys to your apartment, walking down the hallway as you passed by others' entrances. Plucking the keys out of your purse, you went to turn them in the doorway, only to findâŠyour door was unlocked; opened.
Your hand, holding the keys, froze in the air as you observed your unlatched door. You looked around, whipping your head right and left, searching for any signs of danger that might be lurking in the shadows. Biting your lower lip nervously, you played with your keys between your fingers as you thought of possible scenarios.
Were you really in that much of a rush earlier to leave it unlocked?
You might have, unbeknownst to you, left it open while blowing up Lois's phone?
You always locked your door, no matter what kind of rush you were in. You could have woken up two hours off of your normal schedule, rushing out the door to make it to work with an apology, but you never left it unlocked. Even in situations like that.
This had to be the work of someone else.
You'd never in your life gone out of your way to ruin anyone's day or to even bother people, nothing that would push a person to break into your apartment at this hour. The worst thing you'd ever done to anyone in the city was bumping into people when passing them in the overly populated streets, but that was a given for everyone.
You looked around the hallway again, examining for anything that could be a weapon useful to you. You had a baseball bat on the inside of your door, but nothing on the outside that could help your case. The best thing you could go with was the keys laced in your fingers. You fumbled the keys into a stabbing position, fortifying yourself upon opening the door.
The door opened with a loud screech, promptly notifying your unwanted guest of your arrival, who was waiting for you on the inside. Your steps were cautious, steady, and measured, carefully closing the door behind you. Your ears perked up, seeking out any strange noises that might be headed your way.
You moved into the kitchen area, but were only met with the sight of dim lighting as you had left it last. Looking on the counter, in cabinets, specifically in the knife rack, you found nothing out of place or missing.
Because from the view of the kitchen, you could see right out, through your island area, the living room. No peculiar figure was lying low, with a weapon in hand, over there. There was no out of the ordinary activity.
"I see you've finally decided to grace me with your presence, Name."
Beads of sweat started to form near your hairline, one dripping down your face like rain, trailing the edge of your nose. Your head turned abnormally slow, in petrifying fear that what your eyes would land upon was something to leave you dismayed.
After almost two years of leaving you stranded and hopeless, Lex Luthor stood in the doorway of your bedroom, every single one of his features still in perfect place.
Your brows raised and pulled themselves together, enough to tie a knot, your keys crashing against the floor with a loud clank. Your eyes stayed frozen open, the feeling of being awake for days with no ounce of rest. Every attribute on your body started to tremble, blinking rapidly as your mind grew completely blank, your only thoughts a white screen.
The world began to move around you while your body was idle, the walls beginning to close on you, resting a tight feeling across your chest and muscles. You were beginning to grow tunnel vision from staring at his face for so long, a face that you thought you wouldn't ever see again.
"Don't look so unhappy to see me. I came all this way, just for you."
He was right there. Right in front of you. It would only take 5 steps, and you'd be as close to him as you used to be, as you have been wishing on a prayer to be.
Unhappy? No. You weren't. How could he ever think that?
But this was a dream. It had to be. He was sentenced to 265 years in prison, which is not exactly a sentence they so easily let you slip out of, especially for the crimes Lex had committed; they were unredeemable. It had, at most, been two years. Not 265. He wouldn't be alive, and neither would you, if it had.
"âŠLâŠLex?" You tried grasping onto any strand of hope that this was real, not your mind and eyes playing abundantly cruel tricks on you, your feet glued to the floor.
"I believe that would be me, yes." Cocky and arrogant, he always was, a ghost of a smirk daring to dance across his perfectly pink lips. His voice was unfamiliar, inhuman. You hadn't heard a lick of it, only from memory, since the last conversation you had before he was hauled off into a truck by the S.W.A.T team in handcuffs.
He was dressed in a blazingly neon-orange prison jumpsuit, with a white cotton undershirt peaking over the neckline; something he would never be caught dead wearing. But how he managed to always look perfectly sculpted, regardless of what he wore, was astounding.
You started to feel overwhelmingly dizzy and light-headed, like any moment vomit would protrude from your throat and paint the floor. You didn't notice you were trembling so violently like you'd been left out in the cold, or that you looked sickly, until Lex started to make his way over to you.
You didn't let him make it halfway before you ran at him and attacked with a strangling hug, caging his body like an octopus trapping its prey in with all eight legs. Your body collided with his harshly, knocking him back a couple of steps until he nearly backed into the wall. His posture grew rigid and adamant in response to your unpredictable attack. His arms hovered over your body that was shaking like a leaf, not being skilled in the subject to such devoted and human touching.
He didn't return the hug until it dawned on him that you were sobbing vigorously.
You were blubbering and hyperventilating, your tears were forcefully loud, resulting in your inability for you to speak or produce sounds resembling words. You didn't care how messy or unattractive the outpouring of your feelings looked; they finally spilled over the edge of the cup that had been filled to the rim with emotional repression.
Contrary to popular belief, Lex Luthor isnât heartless, not entirely. Heâs not cruel in the way of monsters or sociopaths who take pleasure in the suffering of others, even the suffering of people they claim to love. Lex often lacks an understanding of humanity, but that stems from a deep resentment toward it.
He despises vulnerability because it reminds him of weakness, more specifically, his own greatest weakness. The concept causes Lex to face that he was born a human, and that was his greatest weakness, not his greatest strength. He wasn't born with enhanced strength, speed, durability, or meta-human powers to shield him from harm; the only exception was his extraordinarily intelligent brain.
Unlike the beings he envies and opposes, Lex is painfully mortal.
More than anything, however, being human means he can feel. Fear. Doubt. Loss. Pain. Emotions are reminders of the fragility he has spent his entire life trying to overcome with his chains of power and control wrapped around the world.
To Lex, humanity is not a source of strength.
And you are the constant reminder of his unfortunate humanly circumstances.
Youâre now shaking against him. Your muffled sobs press into his undoubtedly cheap jumpsuit, which hasn't been washed, due to prison conditions. But you nuzzled your face into his chest without a care in the world of how he smelt, your hold on him indestructible and unwavering, but terrified. Like if he walked away right now, everything would collapse forever.
Little did he know that everything did collapse when he walked away, thinking it would last forever.
Instead of pushing you away and caving to his insecurity of weakness, he returns your hug, wrapping his arms around you like a vice.
"It's okay. Stop crying." He whispered near your ear, softly. You don't know if you've ever heard Lex sound like that. But you also didn't know the last time you've ever been this upset.
You had so much to say to him. You wanted to get angry and yell that all hell broke loose in your personal bubble due to his heedless actions, to shove your finger in his chest and curse him for the depressive spell he placed upon you, and to explain how weird it was that he wasn't a part of your life for such an extended period of time.
But your voice didn't come.
You've said the words so many times to him in your head, only a few out loud, and for excruciatingly long months were tortured by said thoughts. By now, they had lost their meaning, but not exactly their necessity.
It is weird, it was weird, because it should not have been possible. Because his presence was so fundamental that his absence felt like a violation of physics.
His jaw clenched as your sobs drenched the fabric of the prison jumpsuit, not with anger, but frustration. That frustration was not directed at you, but at himself. Because he hates seeing people cry, he doesn't know how to deal with it. He can handle tears from employees when they're fired and watch his corporate competitors break down when they realize he's won and feel nothing.
He hated this, hated seeing you cry, knowing fully well it was because of him. This messed with the cold precision he prides himself on maintaining.
The two of you stood there for what felt like forever, neither of you releasing your hold on the other. It wasn't until you pulled back from the hug abruptly, feeling a wave of anger crash over you, taking you under the current and drowning you beneath it.
Your palm connected with his cheek before he could question why you had pulled back.
"How are you even here, Lex?! Your sentence was surely longer than just two years! And now you decide to show your face here, out of nowhere! Are you on the run? Did you manage to break out? Are the cops gonna come looking for you?"
You spiraled with questions that were meaningless only a few moments before he appeared in the darkness out of the blue. You knew you shouldn't be yelling, you shouldn't have slapped him either, but you couldn't control the emotional buildup that came staggering out.
How did he manage to get out? Was he connected to resources? Meeting with people? Meeting people in prison?
You had a hunch it was something to do with Rick Flag Sr.
He licked the inside of his cheek, disbelief written all over his face. The look of pure shock laced with something deeper as a conceited smirk fell on his mouth. His eye twitched through the smirk, a dark pink formed where your hand had landed, the shape of it now plastered on his deliciously smooth cheek.
"Did you justâŠslap me?"
You didn't answer, breathing heavily from your inconsolable sobbing as you wiped the snot that was dripping from your nose away from touching your upper lip. He shook his head in response, taking a breath before verbally acknowledging your fiery questions.
"To answer your lovely questions, I am here simply because of a vehicle, called a car. Ever heard of one? I'm sure you haven't, you aren't much of a driver anyway-"
"Just answer the questions, asshole, before I hit you again. Next time, it won't be so gentle." You narrowed your eyes and glared at him, irritated at his annoyingly sarcastic comments. It was a partial truth, you weren't a good driver. But then again, you lived in Metropolis; no one drove here unless you were a taxi or chauffeur. In Lex's case, he always had people driving him. So really, you'd love to see him drive a car for once.
"Feeling feisty, are we? Well, to soothe your heated persona, I'm here, showing my face out of the blue, becauseâŠ" He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Because you're all I have now."
Your heart stopped for the second time tonight.
When Lex went to prison, that meant he practically lost everything. It would be easy for him to rebuild his empire with all his prisoners and servants, but for now, all he had was you. You were the only person he could go to. The only person he knew wouldn't turn him right back over to the cops' hands.
You nodded slowly, breaking the eye contact that the two of you were making so intensely. Staring into his powerfully scary eyes over a long period of time started to fill your stomach with butterflies. He clearly noticed the effect he had on you (when did he not notice everything), but chose to ignore it based on the circumstances of the situation.
"To answer your question on how I managed to be set free from thatâŠMeta-human scum hellhole, it's more embarrassing than I'd like to admit." He announced as he started to walk closer to you, from where you were standing, a significant distance away from him, which he did not like.
You stepped back defensively, backing into your kitchen. He didn't stop walking toward you upon your protective shield cast on your face, looking at him with immense frustration. You still wanted to yell at him; maybe hitting him a few more times would heal the hole that was burned so deeply in your heart, in the shape of him.
But now he was hovering over you, standing at a mouthwatering 6'3, and you couldn't resist the delicious candy standing unwrapped right in front of you. His eyes lit up like a starry night sky, a sight you loved so much, upon seeing the yearning dancing across your eyes.
He bent down, leaning to your level as he looked you directly in the eyes. His hand grasped your chin, gently as he possibly could, forcing you to look at him. Your skin burned and shivered all at the same time under his commanding touch.
"How much have you missed me?"
He whispered, his breath on your lips, pulling you in like a drug, his insecurity peeking through the cracks. Deep down, you knew he was often worried about you leaving him, moving on, finding someone else who might be nicer to you. But you didn't want that, even if he never admitted what he was feeling, you could read him like an open book. Even if he was one bolted with the key thrown away.
"So much, Lex. What could I do but think of you? It was pathetic how desperate I was for you to come back. IâŠI thought about you, about us, all the time. Not one of those thoughts were ever of moving on. My life has been so boring and mundane without you in it; even while the world is energized around me, all I felt was emptiness. It wasn't possible for me to move on from you. I thoughtâŠif you saw me, how I was without you, you would've thought I was utterly pathetic. I thought you would've wanted to move on. That you didn't miss me in the ways I was missing you."
"That you didn't even love me."
The words started spilling out before you could stop them, a summary of all your thoughts and feelings being broadcast to him. He didn't know the half of how you were without him; if he did, it would only give him more of an ego boost that was already appearing on his face.
He admired that you could read his mind without him having to convey the human feelings he loathes so deeply.
"Inconveniently, I missed you too."
You should know how he feels about you by now.
You should realize that he treats you so differently from everyone else.
That Lex Luthor genuinely cares about someone.
You knew he'd never say that he loved you back, saying those heavy weighted feelings out loud was too much for him to bear. It was impossible to even believe he was capable of loving, even to him. He craved the love and attention from the public eye, wanting them to see him as their savior and not Superman.
But you were so entirely different from everyone else.
You had smashed down his walls that towered higher than the skyscrapers across Metropolis, breaking your way into his cold heart.
His eyes showed that he too, hasn't slept for long periods of time, red like a rash, brimming at the edges. Just seeing the look in his eyes that showed he was entirely out of control, not powerful and demanding, just real.
That was enough for you to know Lex loved you.
That was enough for you to know, Lex thought about you just as much as you thought of him while he was gone.
Because in a way, you had been gone too.
"Kiss me, and I'll believe it, Lex."
What can I do, But think of you?
