It had been such a crappy day for Lana Lang.
Why the hell did her professors have to be such Nazis? So she didn't mention one constellation in her report. So what? Lana was fuming mad.
Lana practically tore her clothes trying to get them off of her. She yanked a t-shirt over her head and went to her nightstand to brush her hair.
It was then that she noticed a single rose wrapped up in a sheet of heavy white paper.
Lana unfurled the paper, letting the rose fall to the floor.
Lana,
I'm not sure if you care, but by the time you read this I'll be gone. I'll be dead. I'll be far away, or maybe even closer than ever.
Lana, I love you. I've loved you for a long time, for a longer time then I've known. I'm sorry if I'm hurting you. I'm so sorry.
I hope you're haunted by my memory. I'm certainly haunted by yours.
I love you.
Lex
Lana screamed. It was a blood-curling, spine-freezing scream of pain. Then, Lana ran out the door, not noticing she was only wearing a t-shirt, not noticing it was forty degrees outside. She simply ran to her car, ran to save Lex.
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Why was he so stupid? Why did he leave that note for her? She must be in a panic now, she must be completely devastated.
Lex shuddered at the possibility that she wasn't.
He sipped his scotch. It tasted like motor oil. What the hell was wrong with him? Lana will think he's insane. What if she does something crazy? What if she hurts herself?
What if she doesn't? What if she doesn't care? What if she laughs and throws the note and the rose into the trash?
Lex paced around the study. He was sobbing. He sobbed for Lana. For hurting her. He sobbed for himself. For being certain Lana didn't care.
He studied the knife. It was a common kitchen knife, one used for cutting meat. Hardly ceremonial and elegant, but he didn't deserve that anymore. I don't deserve death. I should suffer.
The doors opened violently.
"Lex?"