*
Morning arrived in the small town, bringing with it blinding sunlight and humid heat. The small floods of water were the only reminders of what had happened the night before, and it was quickly disappearing. For all Chloe knew, it could have been merely a nightmare; one from which she was now safe underneath her fortress of blankets. She did not want to come into consciousness just yet, but something alerted her senses. It was an aroma of some sorts, consisting of fresh linen and several spices. Her house had always smelt like the small garden her father kept in the backyard and coffee drifting in from the kitchen. Wherever she was, she knew it wasn't home.
Opening her eyes slowly, she was surprised to find blue-gray ones staring back at her. There was only one person whom possessed such mesmerizing eyes, and that was Lex Luthor. Sitting up wearily, Chloe rubbed at her temples to stop the dull pounding.
"Rest well?" Lex asked before she had a chance to speak.
"What am I doing here?" Chloe ignored his question while stretching. Her arm throbbed, and she looked down at the bandages.
Lex noticed her confusion and sighed.
"You don't remember?"
"Remember what?" She snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of her tone.
"I found you over by the train station. You were lying on the ground hurt so I brought you here." Lex explained while getting up and walking over to the French doors leading out to the balcony.
Chloe took a few moments for the information to sink in before pulling back the blankets and standing up. She noticed right away that she was wearing silk pajamas.
"Did you…?" She asked a little flustered. If he noticed, he had the decency to pretend not to.
"Undress you? No. I had Maria -- one of the servants -- take care of it since your clothes were drenched. I hope you don't mind."
She nodded absently, scanning the large room for her clothes. She took in her surroundings and couldn't help admiring how beautiful it was. Rich red, gold, purple, and blue hues painted the atmosphere along with a fireplace and its own balcony. She couldn't help but feel she was a queen.
Lex moved away from the doors and closer to where Chloe was standing in the middle of the room, looking bewildered.
"Your clothes are being washed and dry cleaned; I'll give them to you once they are finished. Would you care to join me for breakfast in the meantime?"
"No… but thanks. I think I'll just take a shower if that's okay," Chloe looked over at Lex and forced a small smile upon her lips.
"Yes, of course. Make yourself at home. I'll just be downstairs in the dining room if you need me."
Chloe watched as he slipped from the room before making her way towards the bathroom. Turning on the water to full blast, she stripped off the silk from her sweaty skin and stepped into the ice cold shower. The bandages came off easily once wet, and she inspected what damage had been done. It wasn't deep, although she found herself wishing it was. At least then she could feel as much pain outwardly as she did inward.
*
Finding the right dining room was harder than Chloe thought, considering there were three dining rooms. After asking one of the servants, she finally found the "breakfast" one. Lex was so engrossed in the newspaper he didn't notice the pale blonde walk in and sit down at the opposite end of the table. It wasn't until he was finished reading did he look at her. He took in her weary eyes and disheveled appearance, and the way she looked like she wanted to fade into the background. It was so far from the person he knew a year ago that it was almost like looking at an entirely different person. She seemed much older, for there was a look in her eyes that said she's seen too much. And, Lex realized, she has.
Chloe felt Lex's gaze upon her, but refused to look at him directly. She couldn't bear to see herself reflected in his face. Thankfully she didn't have to, for one of the servants appeared right then and handed her back her clothes. Chloe mumbled a thank you to the woman and rose from her seat. Walking towards the exit, Chloe never looked back at the man sitting there. She didn't see his expression of worry, or the caring in his eyes. But before she opened the door, she left a letter on the table. She'd never know that he never opened it; he didn't have to. He already knew what it read. There aren't that many ways to say goodbye.
