Lex stared at the door for a long time after she left. He finally sat down on the floor, thinking. Remembering what had driven him to set the whole thing in motion.
Lana laughed and pressed her hand against Clark's. She reached over and grabbed his coffee, taking a long, luxurious sip. Clark gave her a mock-glare and Lana giggled, nearly falling off the tall chair and almost spilling coffee all over the table.
Neither of them saw Lex slink out of his chair and head for the door. His face was painful to look at in that moment.
Had it only been this morning that he had seen them, so happy and full of joy? Had such little time passed, between the time that he sat here now and the time when a foreign emotion slapped him across the face?
He walked out to his car. He pulled out one rose from the bouquet in his lap. The rest he threw out the window.
They were beautiful roses. All a deep bloodred. The perfect symbol of torturous love.
He reached into the glove compartment, and pulled out a sheet of his best stationary. It had a satisfying weight. He pulled out a pen and hastily scripted a note to Lana. He didn't think it would have to come to this. He never thought he'd go to such desperate measures to earn her love. He hoped she wouldn't be angry. That would be bad.
He hoped she wasn't indifferent. That would be worse.
Lex brought the car to life and sped off. He was pretty sure he could still pick a lock….
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Lana glanced at the clock by her bed. 11:30 PM. It didn't matter. She wasn't going to class tomorrow anyway.
She padded over to her bed and sat down, her spine straight and sore. She could barely believe what was happening.
Lex was going to kill himself. Actually take a knife and….she couldn't finish the thought.
And he loved her.
Lex loved her.
Did she love him?
Yes.
What about Clark?
It took some courage to finally muster up the words, but they felt right in her mind. When she spoke them aloud, she realized everything.
"Clark who?"