Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, its characters, or anything associated.
A/N: Please review. That's all I ask. :)
They don't notice.
Only God knows why, but somehow they don't notice.
And I do.
They started out so perfect, like some twisted parody of a Grimm fairy tale. Two unsuspecting people, crashed together by the cruel hands of a malicious fate who they would later call benevolent. One lost his heart, the other gave it back, and so the bond began between them, sugary sweet and too perfect to be desecrated by interference of any kind; too much destiny to be hidden and buried in the recesses of an embarrassed mind.
It was impossible not to notice, even though at first they treaded in the water of friendship, too afraid to relinquish the reins to the tide. I never believed in true love before them, still became skeptical before they returned to blind me. They glowed around each other, and only in the other's presence did either of them truly smile. The observation hurt because I had never noticed the fake ones before.
When they met, the world changed. The atmosphere became tangible, or the emotions permeated the air enough to feel. The sun danced to the bitter beauty of their heartsong, and wanted or not, we observers found ourselves dancing, too.
Their storybook journey was addictive, full of forked roads and steep curves that remained toxic and unpredictable. They were every cliche brought to life.
A prince and a pauper, one rich, one poor. One lived in a grandiose castle and spoke in bombastic metaphors. One slept in a barn and spent his time milking cows.
Romeo and Juliet, two families in a generation-aged struggle. There were modern day Capulets, revolutionized Montagues, even a Mercutio, sacrificed to the fate of their star-crossed romance; even a Rosaline, fallen from her pedestal.
So many more to list and mourn, but they really had it all then. Their journey, so battered by battles, kidnappings, minor bouts of betrayal; the entire thing too incredible to believe. Such an adventure couldn't be lived, simply written and dreamt.
But no, not for them. To them, it was life.
Everyone could tell when things changed, when Smallville's two princes, one announced but the other in thought alone, because Smallville's two lovers.
No longer was it bright smiles at the mention of the others' name, anticipating bouncing at the sound of an expensive engine purring up the beaten path. It wasn't short trips to the coffee shops of peasants and knaves, or the barely-visits at the mansion in a delivery guise, experiences only told cold and secondhand.
No there were Ferraris waiting next to hand-me-down trucks and battered rusting Toyotas. Barely-visits became weekend long "sleepovers," which no one in high school hand since they were nine.
Hands that would occasionally grace a hoping shoulder were swung around waists or curled around a neck with purpose. Too many doors were unexplainably locked when fingers gripped a handle, locks wondrously wielded shut.
Their relationship was there, egregious and proud, not attempting to hide in the alleys of conservative Kansas. No one objected, or at least made a movie against them. Even the disgusted, the sickened and abhorring, the ones staring, thinking anathema; they all knew it was right.
Even the saddened, the heartbroken like me; even we saw our loves torn from our grasps without the feelings of expected bitterness and jealousy.
How could we hate two people who found the myth of true love? A legend told for eons, a hypothesis never proven, a castle in the air never solidified in mortar and bricks; and they found it.
Who could begrudge them that?
For a while, a few months they will remember as precious once their eyes open, they achieved perfection. We watched their sunshine romance, their summer love. We watched their public embraces, holding each other as if by stopping they would die. We watched their even sparser viewable kisses, heated and needy no matter how brief.
And we all expected them to last forever.
Then they began to fall apart, and they still haven't noticed yet.
There are still those smiles, but joy has turned to relief and excitement has shifted to expectancy. The atmosphere tingles, but not with the force of their everlasting love. It crackles like a thunderstorm, hissing and spitting secrets. Their eyes have darkened with them, green to brown and blue to gray, but it is the secrets that have drawn them apart and turned their oasis into a barren desert.
The fault is unknown. It is more difficult to decipher stiff shoulders and invisible frowns then cheerful greetings and obvious under-the-table touches.
But they burn with dishonesty, and that is for sure. They rarely meet each others gazes, and when they do, it is awkward and angry. It is excruciating to be around them, to see what they are and mourn the beauty of what they lost. Because that is unforgettable, and their relationship now is nothing but a wooden mockery.
Their relationship is fractured, but they ignore it. Their love has withered, but they keep going through the motions. They can't give up what they had, and they are holding on desperately in an attempt to get it back.
But that's impossible. True love is like a supernova. It's awe-inspiring, breath-taking, heart-stopping. Still, once it dies, it is gone. It can't be rebuilt, and those blinded by it are left with only the stars branded in their eyes.
And their love has died.
It's only a matter of time for denial to dissipate into the stark aura of realization. Their friendship, the foundation of all they have built together, will crumble. Once you cross that line, you can never go back. Though, the two enjoy ignoring the circumstances, or perhaps they will shock us all again with their defiance of society's norms.
All I know for sure is that with the fall of their monopoly there is a hope for the rest of us, a hope for someone such as me.
Once that would have brought me joy. Now it only makes me cry.
When a relationship like theirs dies, it is only the outsiders who can tell you how.