Silvia Stone was a vigilante with only one goal in mind, to give criminals a swift and painful death. As one could imagine, Superman didn't exactly appreciate the bodycount that was mounting. After being thrown into prison, breaking out, and more en...
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The sidewalk was hot enough to fry her breakfast on. It was high noon and the sun beat down with unrestrained brutality, a few withering trees cast patches of pathetic shade onto the baked tarmac but even that provided no relief. The last thing that Silvia felt like doing was patrol the streets but the area she lived in was always being attacked. She may have initially arrived there to avoid Clark but she needed to fight crime no matter where she was. It was in her blood.
Luckily, it seemed like she was the only one stupid enough to be walking around in such unbearable weather. Even some of the soldiers had taken cover in nearby sources of shade or in their houses. She could endure more than most people, but even she was starting to feel it effecting her stamina.
The lack of activity in the area gave her time to think, which was something she usually tried to avoid. Her mind had wandered back to her conversation with Diana, and worst of all, to Clark.
She missed him so much... She missed the way his smile could brighten up the world, she missed his eyes that were so impossibly blue that even glasses couldn't completely hide their colour, and she missed how he always seemed to know what she was thinking.
More than any of that though, it was the little things that had her heart aching to see him. Like the way he crossed his arms with his right arm on top when he was serious, and with his left when he was joking. How he disliked action movies, and despite pointing out the unrealistic scenes, he'd watch them for her anyway. She even missed the way he looked at her when she said something stupid; like he couldn't believe that she had said it out loud.
Every step on the sidewalk would bring a new memory, things she didn't even realise she knew about Clark. On her way home it got worse. She passed numerous broken down houses, and she remembered that Clark use to double-knot his shoelaces. A kid stepped outside to pour cold water over his face, and Silvia recalled that Clark always put his pants on before his shirt.
Silvia saw her small shack come into view.
Though Clark didn't need to sleep, he liked to anyway, and he always snored. Surprisingly lightly for someone so powerful, but still audible to Silvia. It use to keep her up but now she found it hard to sleep without the sound.
She took out the rusty keys from her pocket and struggled to fit them into the lock.
Whenever they watched a movie with animals in it he would start randomly stating facts that he learnt on the farm.
The door was pushed open and she stepped inside with a sigh, throwing the keys on a nearby bench and leaning against the wooden surface. She didn't even bother shutting the door, any ventilation from outside was an improvement on the breathless heat inside her new home.
