Warnings: Reader is still very hurt
Word count: 1,782
Luthor residence, just outside of Metropolis
"We are now live from downtown Metropolis, where, just moments ago, the unidentified, invading spacecraft has just crashed into the ground. However, chaos seems to be far from over as the invader identified as General Zod and the 'Superman' debate each other in what seems to be a fight to the death in the sky."
The ominous, official voice of the reporter filled the room, along with the sound of Lex's footsteps as he paced back and forth. Nervously holding the phone to his ear.
"Come on, come on." He said to himself under his breath, "Please."
"The number you are trying to call is not reachable." The automated female voice recited for the hundredth time.
"No..." Lex stuttered, ending the call. He looked at the tv screen briefly, in a fruitless attempt to get answers. He gulped, walking around faster and you looked at the scene through blind eyes from the picture he was holding.
It was a photo he'd taken of you in yet another anniversary party. Not a corporate one, though. But the one Lex had planned behind your back for an entire month to celebrate your first year together.
Just when you thought he'd forgotten about it, you got home to find the most exquisite black cocktail dress, neatly folded and wrapped in a white present box on your bed along with the biggest bouquet of (favorite flowers) you'd ever seen in your life.
He arrived about an hour later, and took you to a restaurant that had the best view in all of Metropolis and for the rest of the night Lex dedicated himself to shamelessly spoil you.
Towards the end of your party for two, you went to the balcony together to watch the fireworks in the night sky. The latter was completely unplanned, as it happens your anniversary had taken place the same night Metropolis had beaten Gotham City in a football game, but it was just the perfect way to end the evening.
It was your surprised, ecstatic face when you saw the fireworks, the one that was captured in that photo forever.
Worried sick and scared to death, this is the scene Lex's mind played for him to keep him from imagining the worst. A part of him knew it, but he refused to believe it. At first, the ship that had been destroying downtown Metropolis had landed at a safe distance from your office building. When the ship fell even, it inevitably brought down a few structures around it, but yours was not one of them. So in that moment, Lex liked to believe that you were safe. That you had managed to evacuate the building, but you had to leave your phone behind and that was why you didn't pick up.
Yes, he thought approvingly and he clung on to the hope that you would soon get in touch.
This hope was soon burnt to the ground when the reporter made her announcement.
"Sir," Mercy's calm voice pulled Lex out of his dreadful thoughts, making him jump. The sudden movement making him lose his grip on your photo.
The glass broke when it hit the ground and the noise was, in comparison to the deadly silence of the studio, like a distant explosion. Even Mercy, who's always as impassive as a marble sculpture, flinched.
Lex breathed in heavily, holding his breath as he slowly picked the frame up and stared at your now broken smile. Wether it was providence or not, this confirmed what Lex had desperately hoped wasn't real.
He refused to believe it, but a part of him was now sure of it. If he hadn't already... he would soon lose you.
Lex's breath became agitated and his hands trembled as he looked up at Mercy with teary eyes.
She looked back at him, allowing herself to worry about her boss for just a second before regaining her always regal composure.
"The chopper's here." She said, remaining as calm and collected as ever as Lex ran past her and disappeared down the hallway.
***
Dowtown Metropolis
You woke up to meet darkness once again. You stared at it for a moment, taking a breath of thin air before closing your eyes again and hoping to go back to your dreams. That was all you had left as your exhausted body was past screaming for help or trying to move, or to escape. Or anything, really.
I should've eaten the toast, you thought, letting out a weak chuckle. Not that it would've made any difference, but you should've. Your mind drifted back to that morning, to the toast, to Lex.
He was the last thing you saw before the black engulfed you.
