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writing-mlm · 21 days ago

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One Last Chance [1]

Summary: After being pushed to the backseat of Dick's life time and time again, you stop trying until your dad invites him to your graduation party and Dick explains what happened. Pairing: Dick Grayson x Black!Male!Reader Word Count: 6.1k Tags/Warnings: this is a part 1, Minor spoilers for Black Lightning s1, reader is a Pierce, ftm reader, nurse reader, Dick is hopeless, i know very little about nursing degrees/jobs, I was watching The Pitt while writing this so it leaked in, sugar daddy jokes, talks of reader getting assaulted (punched), reader is black and has microlocs A/n: hiii guys it’s been almost a month take this <3

Dick Grayson was nearly perfect in every single way.

You were eight years old when you met that stupid kid with his stupidly cool backflips. You must’ve talked his ear off the first time you met, asking him to do trick after trick, and he was curious about your boxing. And so, thus began the years of Dick teaching you his gymnastics skills and you teaching him boxing. It became apparent to everyone who saw the two of you that the two of you were as thick as thieves.

And you were. For a while.

You spent every weekend in Gotham, hanging around the manor and being kids outside of being Robin and Lightning Bug. Bruce and namely Alfred adored you, you kept Dick bright and happy. Even if the two of you broke several chandeliers in the process.

So it was only natural when you both grew up that things didn’t really change. Middle school had its awkward phases, the small period where things got odd when you came out, but nothing was wrong. At least until he was introduced to Barbara Gordon. You’d go over on the weekends, but he wouldn’t be home, only to sleep and shower. The third week that happened, you simply stopped going, and truth be told, you don’t think he noticed.

It was no surprise when they started dating soon after.

And that was his issue.

There was always someone else with Dick Grayson.

You’d lost your best friend for a girl he’d just met. The same girl who he’d date and then dump, a cycle repeating until they got tired of the back and forth when Dick was fifteen. And suddenly, he remembered you. Remember how he treated you.

He was at your door, apologizing with gifts and snacks. Promises that he’d never lose sight of your friendship again. And you believed him. You missed your best friend.

When he asked you to move with him, join the Teen Titans, you were hesitant. Your life was in Freeland, and you were a month from graduating from high school at fourteen. But Dick was more than willing to wait that month, leaving a room at the tower for you.

And then, a week before you left for California, Kory crashed down on Earth. Suddenly, your phone was radio silent. Your mother says it was a sign from God, telling you to focus on your school work and keeping up your grades. Now that you could commit to fully in-person classes instead of the hybrid that you assumed you’d do, you were on track to graduate at the normal pace.

Meanwhile, the same pattern was happening with Dick. For the sake of your mind and peace, you called him twice. And it only rang once both times before he declined the call.

You tried not to care, telling yourself that you saw it coming.

Soon they broke up too. And just like last time, he was back at your door, letting himself inside your house. You never did move the spare key from behind the chair. He once again came with a box of treats. Your favorite foods and drinks. But he added a bouquet of flowers.

Dick was smart, he knew your family was out. Parents divorced, your sisters and dad were at school while you were home due to your semester break. You didn’t have their stares and small noises of disappointment when you let him back in.

This time, you were hesitant. You didn’t want to jump the gun, to let yourself accept him back into your life, only to be disappointed again. An arm's length distance was good enough for you until you saw actual change.

And there was. For a while.

And then came Wally. They’d actually been friends for a while, a part of his first Titans group, but now they were dating. At that point, you stopped trying. You stopped caring. Dick was someone who prioritized his relationships over a nearly decade long friendship and it was up to you if you wanted him in your life. Ultimately, you didn’t. He was no longer a friend, he was another hero whom you had known since you were a child.

Nineteen and graduating from college (with a bachelor’s degree in science of nursing, a phlebotomy certification, and an associate's for nursing) was something your parents praised you for. For you, they were signs that you had taken everything to focus on something else. To ignore the burning desire to return to the streets of Freeland as Lightning Bug (although that didn’t last long), to forget the ache that Dick thought you were a back burner friend. Someone not even worth an occasional text. You’d started college while you were still in high school, and work consumed your every waking hour to the point where you couldn’t recall time for yourself outside of forced vacations.

It all led to this, though. The youngest in your family to graduate from college. So, it was really an exciting time for you.

They’d invited all of your friends and their colleagues to your graduation party, which, of course, included Dick.

“How does dad know Bruce Wayne?” Jennifer asks, hiding the fact that she’s talking by sipping her soda.

“Grants,” Anissa shrugs, watching the man and his son greet your father. Dick was not invited but he also wasn't not invited. Open invitation sort of thing. You were more upset that Alfred didn’t come.

“He’s fine.” Jennifer grins, and you roll your eyes. Who she was talking about, you didn’t want to know. All you knew was that you wanted some of those damn snacks on the table. Oh, cupcakes.

“Let’s sit, my feet hurt,” She groans and drags you away from the snack table to the family table.

“I wasn’t done, you ass,” You groan, dragging Anissa with you. She’d been trying to watch the Waynes as they looked around and nearly tripped when you started tugging her along.

“And my feet hurt!” She whines as she plops down in her seat. “Did I bring spare shoes?” She asks, leaning down to unbuckle the straps of her heels.

“It’s in the car,” You sigh, getting up. “I’ll go and get it.” With a thank you, you slip out of the venue and look for the car. There are so many cars in the lot, and you’ve been there for so many hours, you’ve all but forgotten where your dad had parked.

“Skipping your own party?” Dick asks as he joins you. Glancing back at him, you shake your head.

“My sister wants her shoes,” You explain and head towards a general direction.

“So you’re not avoiding me?” Following you, Dick manages to walk in stride with you. He’s wearing those fancy loafers with the small heel and stepping loud enough that you hear him. And you’re aware he’s doing it on purpose, Dick knows how to be silent in any type of shoe.

“Eh,” You shrug, spinning around when you don’t find the family car. It’s definitely one of these rows, you remember that lamp post with the missing turtle poster. Hopefully, they find Mrs Wheelbarrow.

He follows you still, but he keeps a distance of two steps so he could watch you.

He knows he’s been a… well a dick. But he swears he has a valid reason for the things he’s done; every time he gets into a relationship or even likes someone else, it hurts him to be around you. It makes him feel wrong, as if he’s wronging you in some way. So, in his head, it’s better to just lessen the time he spends with you, pushing the guilt down enough for him to savor the time he spends with his relationships.

Because he knows deep down that it’s never going to last long. Deep down, Dick knows that no one will ever compare to you and he knows that you deserve better than him. Someone who meets you halfway or makes the distance, not someone who makes you fly across the country every weekend. Someone who… isn’t him.

He frowns as you walk faster, his steps falling slower until he sucks it up and catches up to you again. This is better than no contact. What’s that thing about kids? Angry kids yearn for a reaction, even if it’s a negative one, because it’s better than being ignored. Something along those lines.

“You grew,” He puts on a smile as he catches up with you.

“That’s generally what metahuman puberty does,” You hum when you spot your family car.

Shit, you didn’t even have the car keys.

“I’ll go and get your dad,” He offers, and you stare at him. He’s grown considerably. He’s grown into an acrobat's build, you suppose being Nightwing means more tricks and flips than it did with being Robin. Not to mention his hair that’s grown into a mullet.

“I like your hair,” You admit without knowing it. He smiles and grabs some strands, looking down at them.

“I like yours,” He says, his eyes trailing down the microlocs you’ve been growing out since you were five. When they trail back up, he swallows and tucks his hair behind his ear out of habit. “Do you want me to get the car keys?” He asks again, his voice hardly above a whisper.

“Oh,” You blink. “Yes, thank you.” He nods and leaves while you watch, your eyes slowly trailing down to his pants. Damn, those squats really do help him.

When he returns with the keys, he’s smiling and waving them around, and you’re sitting on the hood of your car, barely aware of the light rain as it hits you.

“I’ve missed you,” He says as you grab the keys from his hand. For a second, his hand holds yours, begging you not to go before he catches himself and relaxes his grip. Rolling your eyes, you unlock the car.

“You seem more interested in… who is this month? Kory?” Reaching for the bag in the back seat, you slide inside and Dick follows without thinking.

“(Y/n),” He says as the door closes, and you look back at him, eyebrows raised. “I’ve been real shitty, I know. And you’ve given me more than enough chances, but…” He sighs and thinks about something for a second. “But I swear this time will be different— if… if you let me.” He adds, his eyes darting between yours. They’re so different from what he remembers.

“Dick,” Grabbing Jennifer’s shoes, you turn to him. “I don’t know what type of friends you have, but I don’t have time for someone who does the shit you did,” He’s not a child and you aren’t going to spell anything out for him, he knows what he’s done. He surely knows how it made you feel, the look on his face makes as much clear.

“I know, I know!” He rushes out, desperately keeping you close to him. “Just one more chance. I promise, I promise you that I’ll be different.”

“Why would I believe you?” You huff and exit the car through the other side. He panics, throwing the door open on his side when he does possibly the dumbest thing he’s ever done before.

“Because I love you! I always have!” He nearly shouts as he chases after you. Stopping in the middle of the lot, you look at him with a frown as he’s waiting for you in front of the car. His eyes dart between yours as his chest rises and falls, nervously waiting for your response.

Stupid wasn’t one of the things you’d call Dick but in that moment, the was the only thing that was popping up with you pictured him. Stupid enough to understand he was in love with someone and pushing them away to date other people. Stupid enough to think that those simple words would have you on your knees, welcoming him back and saying you love him back.

Namely, because you didn’t love him. You hardly even liked him as a friend. He was the ghost of an old friendship whose memories had been worn down and morphed into ones of sadness. Missing a friendship you can never get back.

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him, and slowly look towards the venue. Your mother and father are at one of the windows, sneakily talking to each other with small laughs and knowing glances. “I know love makes you do stupid shit, but what you did is beyond stupid if you do love me.”

“How can I prove it?” He calls out as you start to walk away. Stopping, you look at him and think about it.

“Show me,” You shrug, and he nods. “Be willing to put the work in and stop running away.”

“I can do that,” He nods again, a genuine smile growing on his face. “I can do that.” He repeats.

“Prove it.”

—

The next morning, as you’re having breakfast with your family, your mother included because you all but begged to have them both there, you’re all talking about idle chatter when you get a notification.

“No phones,” They both remind you as you check it. Anissa snickers, even divorced, they’re still in sync.

“One sec,” You mutter, eyes squinting at the email banner. “It’s from my financial aid.” Reading the email, you sit back in your seat and cover your smile with your hand. “My tuition loans were paid.” You announce, unable to hide a chuckle as you announce what had been oh so important, you broke the breakfast rule.

“Paid?” Your father echoes. The cost of tuition was insane for your nursing school, and you had to take out a loan for all of the years you went, but the email said they’re processing the entirety of what you had taken out. Basically, the three hundred thousand you’d taken out was paid by someone. “Who paid for it?” He asks, looking at your mother, but she shakes her head.

“Is this some new scam?” Jennifer asks, and you roll your eyes. As if you’d fall for some scam.

“Let me call someone real quick.” They nod and beg with their expressions for you not to leave the table, and you don’t. Making the call as you chew on your pancakes, you realize you need more syrup.

“Hey,” Dick answers almost immediately.

“Was that you?” You ask the second he stops speaking, pouring more syrup onto the pancakes.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” The way he says it makes you roll your eyes. “If you’re asking if the man from your dreams was me— definitely.”

“The payment,” Pushing the conversation back in the right direction, Dick makes a oh yeah noise.

“It went through already? I thought those took a while to go through.” He admits. “I paid it the second you left me in the parking lot.” He says that as if it’s nothing, as if he’s admitting to paying for your coffee in the morning and not your entire tuition loans. Lord Almighty, to be the son of a billionaire.

“Thank you,” You smile despite yourself. “It’s creepy how you got my information, but considering it’s you, I’m not surprised.”

“Anytime,” He says. “Oh, and be home today. There should be some stuff coming in for you.” More stuff— he has to be taking this money from his father. He’s not even employed!

“What— Dick?” But he ends the call, and you stare at the phone, blinking.

“Richard paid it?” Your mother asks, and you slowly nod, setting your phone back down on the table. “Why did he pay it?” She asks, and you let out an awkward chuckle.

“Who’s Richard?” Jennifer asks. Clearing his throat, your father looks at you, and you look at your mother.

“Bruce Wayne’s son,” He answers, voice tight because he didn’t want to be the one to say it.

“Oh, so you got a sugar daddy,” Jennifer snorts, and your face drops as everyone stares at her. “What? I’m not wrong— wait, is that why they were at your party?”

“Eat your damn food,” You grumble and your parents don’t tell you to watch your language.

—

Monetary gifts did nothing to sway you, especially ones that come from the son of one of the richest men alive. So far, Dick has been doing his best for the past four or so weeks. His best gift thus far had been the tuition; how could it not be?

Then came the flowers, arranged with colors he knew you liked. You’d gotten three of those so far, always timed so when they should start wilting, you could replace them. The mix of those you’d gotten various stuffed animals, a weighted blanket far too big for your bed, a personalized bonnet that had stitching of your favorite animal, compression socks, three pairs of shoes, legos, and a brand new, not even on the market yet, laptop.

You admittedly love the Legos he picked out.

But you think the absolute best thing he’s done thus far is when he joined you for your nightly patrol. It’s been years since you’ve done this with someone, filling the gaps of your night with music and helping people walk home in the dead of night.

You’d just started, picking up your suit from Gambi’s, and started from the heart of Freeland with one ear connected to Gambi and the other open to hear around you. Wednesdays are usually quiet. The 100 collect their taxes every Wednesday, so groups go to their base and stay there for the entire night.

But tonight you needed the company.

“Hey, Buggy,” He says as you look over the block. There’s no one there, all the stores are closed, and the streets are empty, so you should probably move along. “What’s wrong?” He places a hand on your shoulder and tilts his head closer to yours. It probably didn’t take a genius to tell something was wrong with you but Dick would attest it to the fact that he knew you.

Well, he used to, but he’s sure your mannerisms haven’t changed that much. He knows you the same way he knows the theme song to Barney. It hurts a little, the memories of you are so distant— but he’s working on it. He is, really.

“Tough week,” You inhale before shaking your head. “Dad and the girls got pulled over, Anissa got arrested for going to a protest, and something is wrong with Jen. And I’m not sure what to do with myself.”

“Pulled over?” He makes a face because Jefferson wouldn’t even go one mile over the limit and, if Dick has the room to say this, is a bit of a neat freak when it comes to driving. Especially with his kids in the car.

“Profiling. The cops were looking for a black man, Dad's black. Yada yada. They only stopped because they realized he was a pillar of the community or something. I wasn’t there, there was a thing happening with the 100 across the city.”

“Did he get their names?” He asks, crossing his arms. “I can talk to B and—“

“Nightwing,” You stop him. “I appreciate the effort, but can’t exactly get rid of all of Freeland’s racist or corrupt cops. That would leave maybe three left,” Laughing, you inhale and look over the city again. It’s quiet, not the unsettling type of quiet that overtakes the city, but a nice one. The air feels nice and calm. “Besides, Black Lightning had it.”

“Corny,” He grins, knocking his fist against your shoulder. “But your dad mentioned you’re gonna be working at Freelands Hospital, right?”

“Yeah,” It’s not breaking news that your dad had told Dick this; you know they’ve been in contact since Dick’s been in Freeland. You think he’s using Dick to keep tabs on you during your patrols. “I got accepted last week, the pay is good and the hours are, too. Nurses work around forty hours a week, and hopefully, I get the ten-hour shifts.”

“Hopefully I’m one of your patients,” He winks, to which you loosely groan and jump off of the roof.

“You just had to ruin it!”

—

Here’s to day one, first day of many! Luv U Nurse (Y/n)!!!

Dickie

The note is attached to a metal bottle of still-hot coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Along with a pair of Nightwing Crocs and Lightning Bug socks. You’re surprised that you’re surprised Dick had managed to sneak inside while you were showering and leave that in your room without anyone noticing.

“The patients check in here. You will eyeball them, make sure they’re not dying. If not, they’re moved to a triage room for vitals and a quick chair exam where you and a resident can order labs and X-rays, all that fun stuff,” The doctor explains as you and three other new nurses follow her. The waiting room is packed, all the chairs are taken, and some people have decided that sitting on the fake plant pot is better than standing.

And you can’t exactly blame them.

You’ve been at hospitals before, obviously, but you haven’t worked at one- let alone Bowman before. And yet, word has spread fast because the charge nurse tells you to call your mother because she’s needed and isn’t answering her pager. Rather than, y’know, calling her down using the proper channels.

You’re embarrassed as you do so, but things move along quickly as three people come into the ER. You’re given the boring work, along with one of the first-year residents, Dennis. Watching as the others work on the patient.

The rest of the day continues, and you’ve decided you need to decompress. After getting yelled at for doing your job, getting piss thrown at you because you had to break the news that the woman’s husband had given her crabs, and then a child throwing up on you all within an hour, you were going to scream.

Tossing the dirty scrubs into the washing bin, you start back to the triage area when you catch something in the corner of your eye and inhale.

Once again, stupid isn't a word you’d use to describe Dick. But boy was he making it hard not to. You’re aware that as a nurse, your life is going to be different, and you won’t be able to patrol as often as you would like to.

Your mother clearly loves that.

Dick, however, has decided that since Bruce now also has Batgirl, Oracle, and Batwoman, who’s apparently his cousin, that he and the newest Robin could help you out a little bit. Only issue is that the new Robin is maybe twelve. He looks younger, though.

And they’re currently sitting in an open room, in the dark. Hiding from the nurses and doctors that walk by.

“See, so I don’t want a child helping you take down violent crime rings,” You whisper yell at Dick after closing the door and flicking the light on. You see that Jason is tucked under his arm, with a bullet graze on his left arm. “Because they tend to shoot people!” Jason, to his credit, is taking the bullet graze like a champ. He hardly flinches as you disinfect it and give him three stitches. You don’t think you should be impressed by that, actually. It’s quite concerning.

“It’s safer than Gotham,” Dick smiles. “Right, bud?”

“Right,” Jason nods, watching as you wrap a gauze around his arm. “Can I get a burger?” Before you can reply, your pager beeps, and you groan, checking it over.

“I have to go, stay out of sight, please,” You huff, removing the blue latex gloves before shoving them in Dick’s chest. “And put that boy in a bed— a real, apartment bed. It’s late, and he’s already stunted as it is.” Looking Jason up and down, you find it hard to believe he’s twelve. But he just smiles and watches as you leave the room.

“No wonder you can’t keep a relationship,” Jason taunts as soon as the door clicks shut. “You suck.” Dick glares down at him, hands on his hips before he flicks the wound and Jason yelps, holding his arm. The lights flicker as a warning and Dick smiles at them before helping Jason sneak out of the window again.

“I’m so telling B,”

“And I’m so not getting you a burger.”

You fully walk away, heading towards where you’re being paged, and head to your charge nurse. On the way, you see another one of the residents with a wicked grin and another looking a little dejected. Although that’s just how he’s always looked.

“Crash fucking fainted again,” Trinity grins and you high five her.

“That’s fifty dollars, Dennis.” You point at him, and he sighs, looking between the two of you. He pulls out his wallet, and you snicker with Trinity before she straightens up.

“We’re not splitting it, Nepotism.”

—

God hadn’t graced you with amazing ten-hour or even eight-hour shifts like you had preferred. You’d been given the maximum twelve-hour shifts and worked back-to-back days. You swore you were going to forget how your family looked, had it not been for the fact that you can only work forty hours a week before it’s considered overtime.

But it’s day one of your days off, and you’re intending on catching up on your beauty sleep before you have to patrol for the night. With new bedsheets, freshly washed body and a nice smelling candle that Dick had gotten you still lingering in the room, you curl into your bed and start to fall asleep.

At least until Jennifer barges into your room with Anissa quickly following behind, scolding Jenn for throwing the door open. You don’t move despite being awake. Hopefully, she’s just there to steal some of your clothes and not to bother you as you catch up on your much-needed sleep. But, no, they weren’t.

“There was a delivery for you.” Jennifer throws herself onto your back, and you groan, aimlessly slapping behind you in hopes of hitting her. It doesn’t work. Instead, she applies more pressure while talking. “With a note. What does it say, Anissa?” Anissa huffs, but she clearly is also enjoying the drama because she’s holding back a laugh as she reads it.

“Heard this was your favorite spot, order your usual—“ She pauses, looking at you with a smile. “Three hearts, filled in, and a smiley face with a tongue out. Also, know your sisters are home, hopefully they like the things I got them, too. Do you think they like me? Do they know about me? And the scratched out is- do you like me? Anyway, enjoy lunch, Buggy! From Dickie! With another heart, not filled in.” She hands you the note, and you quickly take it, tucking it under a notebook on your nightstand.

“Things between you two getting… warmer?” Jenn asks, folding one leg under the other while opening the bag. “I mean, with all the shit he’s gotten you I hope you’re giving him a little something something,” Anissa raises her eyebrows as she sits next to you.

“Jennifer, what the fuck?” You smack the side of her head and she laughs an apology. “And no, we aren’t fucking. We’re friends, he’s just a gift giver.”

“The note said, ‘do you like me?’. And don’t act like I didn’t see you two during the party. What happened?” Grabbing your food, you shrug. You’ve never told them about your friendships within the hero world. They don’t know half of your friends, they don’t know why you left every weekend, or why you and your dad had little trips so often. They just assumed it was because you’d come out at such a young age that he was helping you.

Because they swear that after those weekend trips, you’d come back more boyish. Jennifer used to joke that your dad was slowly swapping you out for a clone.

“Yeah,” Jennifer agrees, nose scrunched as she recounts that day. “You two definitely have history.”

“We did— we do,” Standing from your bed, you move to a small bookshelf and pull out a photo album. Flipping through it, you see the old digital of your time as a young hero before finding a normal picture. You’re at Wayne manor, hanging out with Dick and Ace while Bruce and your dad are in the background, watching with their arms crossed. It’s that dad stance Bruce swears he doesn’t have.

Handing it to them, you flop next to Anissa.

“That’s where I went every weekend. Spent a lot of my free time in Gotham,”

“Why?” Jennifer hands the photo over to Anissa. “I thought you and dad were going fishing or something. Playing catch or whatever,” Licking your lips, you try to think of something. You can’t tell them because your dad was worried about your developing powers, and Gambi had recommended asking Bruce for his opinion.

“It’s complicated,”

“You wanna know something complicated?” Jennifer snaps her fingers, she’d just remembered something. Something real important, by the way her eyes gleamed. “Dad's Black Lightning!”

“What?” You look between the two of them. Anissa’s head tilts as she takes in your reaction, meanwhile Jenn has no clue.

“And I mean, me and Anissa have powers too! She holds her breath and gets stronger and invincible— which is kinda lame, if you ask me. I have electric powers like dad, though!” She smiles, her fingers sparking.

“Does dad know?” Your voice is soft as you ask, bordering on disbelief and happiness.

“Yeah, he was really cagey about it, though. You’re taking this really well, mom didn’t. Right?” Jenn laughs as she pushes Anissa. But Anissa doesn’t listen, she doesn’t react to Jenn. She’s still watching you, watching your reactions.

“You’re Lightning Bug,” She finally breathes, her head hanging a little low. “I don’t know why we didn’t piece it together sooner.”

“You’re who?” Jennifer’s eyes bug and you shut yours. Resigning yourself with a nod. “Oh my god— It was so obvious!” She laughs, and you look between them. They’re mostly smiling, they’re not upset.

They’re not upset.

“I wanted to tell you guys, I did. Really. But heroes are always like ‘don’t tell your loved ones, cause it’ll put them in danger’ and every time I tried, I just kept getting a picture that you two were dead.” You rush out. “I’ve had my powers since I was a kid, um, they’re like dads but stronger. I’m pretty sure me and Jen have the same ones, they look similar.” Inhaling, you have to remind yourself not to go that long without breathing again.

“So, you can teach me?” Her eyes twinkle with hope before they dim. “‘Cause dad isn’t. He’s still on the whole, you’re my babygirl, I can't see you hurt thing.” You laugh heartily because you remember that conversation with him.

“He told me the same thing, but then I was in the bath and nearly killed myself ‘cause I sneezed and sparked the water. Had no choice but to help me after that.” Messing with the straw of your drink, you push your shoulders back. “I’ll be an excellent teacher. On my days off,”

—

Jenn paces in front of you while you hold a tissue to your still-bleeding nose. She’s ranting about the girl who punched you, apparently, they have issues in school, and she swears if you’d just let her go, she would’ve dealt with her. But you’d rather not have to write an incident report on how you got punched by a sixteen-year-old girl and your sister punched her back during your first month.

But you listen to her rambling and raving while Dr. Robby checks over your nose, just to make sure nothing is fractured. He assures you that you’re fine, it’ll bruise a little, and your nose will be sore for around a week, but that’s the extent of it.

Once he walks away, Jennifer takes the seat next to yours and continues. Her leg bounces as she tells you exactly what she would’ve done and how stupid you were to hold her back. You gently remind her that she would’ve been arrested for assault, just as the girl will be once the officers arrive.

Speaking of which, you can hear their radios crackling as they enter the ED. Looking up, you raise an eyebrow as Dick makes a B-line for you. He ignores the charge nurse and the attending— even the security guard holding the girl in his office tries to find you. His eyes seem almost frantic until they land on you, where he exhales and drops to his knees.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” He whispers, gently moving the tissue to check the damage. He winces when you do, using his free hand to gently squeeze your leg.

“I’m fine— why are you here and in a uniform?” You ask, looking away as he shines a flashlight up your nose.

“No deviation— she’s not a good punch, eh?” He grins, putting the small flashlight back. “And I joined the Freeland police department! Passed my test and the academy with flying colors. Thinking about becoming a detective, whaddya think?” He rests his hands on his legs as he stares up at you, his hair flopping to the side with the movement.

“You’re ridiculous,”

“And you’re bleeding,” His hand reaches down to pat your knee twice before he stands to his full height. You stare up at him as he scans over the room, his partner is in the guard's office getting the girl's side of the story.

“So, what happened?” He looks down at you, hands on his hips. “For my official statement.” He adds.

“Jennifer was giving me my lunch, I asked her to bring it up because I was being called to assist with a patient. I returned, and Jenn was arguing with a different patient. I noticed it was going to get physical and intervened. I must’ve been a second too late because she was already punching.” As dutiful as he can, Dick nods as he writes it down. “Mike separated the girl into the office and I stayed here with Jenn.”

“Alright, and just some follow-up questions, standard procedure,” He reassures with a grin, and you hum. “Do you want to press chargers, are you free tonight, and have you received proper medical attention?” He intentionally speeds over the second question, and you hear Jennifer laugh from where she’s also being questioned. It’s not only her; you can hear the residents and even the charge nurse giggling.

“No and yes.” You reply, leaning back in your chair.

“What time?” He asks, wiping some more blood from your nose with his thumb.

“My bad,” You hold your hand over your heart. “No, no, and yes.”

“You wound me, Buggy. I’m wounded.” He frowns, clutching his chest. And then he grins. “Maybe you should check me over, in a room where there are no others.”

Rolling your eyes, you watch as he excuses himself and meets up with his partner again. He positions himself so that he still has a clear line of view of you, his eyes constantly shifting between his partner and you while you toss out the bloody tissue before attending to someone who needs to be checked over.

Maybe Dick isn’t so bad. He has been trying. Aside from the gifts, which have been abundant, he's there for each of your patrols, and once he was invited over for dinner. You think Jennifer got into your dads head that you’ll accept Dick’s numerous proposals and he wanted to give Dick the talk before that happens. But you’re not always present with him. Things have been hectic on your side of the fence, between your sisters discovering their powers, Black Lightning coming back, work, and everything with Tobias, Khalil, and the 100; you felt like you were always busy.

A couple of times, you’d almost texted or called him, just to get an escape. Maybe take a ride out of the city or just talk in your room. Or his place. He’s since sent Jason back to Gotham because he told Bruce it was a small vacation, not an almost kidnapping. Bruce wasn’t happy when he heard whispers of Dick’s plans to have Jason’s school records transferred over.

It’s been nice having Dick back as a constant in your life. It’s been nearly three months now, and it’s the longest duration of consistent contact you’ve had with him since Barbara came into his life.

You glance at him one last time, and when your eyes catch, you hold up nine fingers. He grins, nodding once before giving his full attention to his partner.

#x male reader #x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x male reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x you #nightwing x male reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x black reader #dick grayson x black male reader #nightwing x black reader #nightwing x black male reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader #dc x black!reader

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bludovebunny · 2 months ago

Text

. ☽ The heart ♡︎. ✫.

♡︎ . is a ♡︎.

. ♡︎ lonely hunter ✧ ☽ ✫ .

A touch in the Dark .

pairing ღ Lex Luthor x fem! oc/reader ღ Ao3

chapter one . chapter two . chapter three . chapter four .

ღ Summary ღ After suffering through a few personal troubles in the City of Metropolis, Niah Foxx ventures to live with her grandparents at their homestead within the warm, quaint town that is Smallville. Although instinctively a sweet, warm-hearted woman who frolics in the realm of dreams way too often, whisked away between the pages of books and poetry to escape reality, there presents a cynical point of view towards society as a whole as she struggles to find a place of belonging and people to rely on. Her reserved nature is quite apparent, as is the wisdom gained in the quietness of solitude and mere observation. And, unbeknownst to her, catches the attentive eye of the young heir of LuthorCorp with an infamous reputation. It only begs the question: In what way does a dove break loose from the coils of a snake? If it wants to escape at all? ღ Themes ღ emotional vulnerability obsession unrequited feelings slow burn friends to lovers height difference loyalty angst fluff poetry opposites attract romance loneliness survival of the fittest strength vs weakness

ღ words 12.7k . ღ

The rose lay gentle in the softness of her palm, fingers curling over the stem as it slowly twirls between the pad of her thumb and index. The petals were a stark red, vibrant as fresh blood that drips from an open wound and velvet to her touch. Abandoned leaves and thorns laid discarded on the table after using the rose stripper, a focal requirement when processing this particular flower to be used as a center piece in one of the many flower arrangements waiting to be dropped off to local clients. A pile of other roses, stripped bare in similar fashion, rested in a bucket on the side of the table in wait, and after one more look over, she gently sets the one in her hold amongst the rest.

Niah spent most of the day fulfilling certain tasks assigned by Nell Potter, which mainly involved evaluating new plants brought in from the local flower shop. Since receiving the position as a florist assistant, the broom practically became her best friend, based on the number of times she swept the floor on a constant basis every single day. It’s quite a simple job, although the only thing she may consider the most burdensome was cleaning out the buckets and cooler. But the quiet joy she experiences when surrounded by plants, their sweet floral scent a comfort to her soul, tends to outweigh most potential feelings of aversion towards certain responsibilities designated upon her.

Today was as slow as it had flown by easily, mainly due to lack of events as of late that didn’t require a high demand for flower arrangements, but during her observation of the last two months of working there, she ascertains there’s always this perpetual urgency for flowers to be present at a funeral. And as unfortunate as it may sound, they tend to attract more order requests involving burials than they do weddings and anniversaries.

In fact, a few requests were made involving three men who became victims of three different crimes–two were found murdered by electrocution, whereas one was fortunate enough to be lulled into a coma, all recent in the span of a week. Not only that, but a friend of Nell Potter, who was in the same garden club as her, Mrs. Arkin, was found dead in the quietness of her own home, mysteriously strung up on the wall and wrapped in huge webbing, the breath of life drained out of her lifeless corpse. Unfortunately, Niah never got to properly form a relationship before her passing, but she did take the time in her day to accompany Nell in attendance at her funeral in a display of support for the family.

The stories were absolutely bizarre–it was difficult to place one’s belief on the legitimacy of such reports due to how eccentric they appeared on paper. That is, until she pieced together all these incidents with students who once attended Smallville High; the high school Clark Kent attends every day. The conclusion of the matter made her wonder if there was something abnormal that had snuck its way to inhabit within the small pool of residents of Smallville. The concept of these musings was enough to unsettle the young woman, at least a little bit.

Another rose is now in her hand, her lips pressed together as she gently peels away a bruised petal on the head, eyes hardened in concentration. So delicate and fragile, beautiful, in the same way human life is, how easily the skin breaks from the prick of a tiny thorn. And how often is life taken for granted until it’s taken away. The thought of the crash on Loeb Bridge flickers in her mind for a split second, which is once again another odd occurrence where someone almost lost their life, a mere fraction away from the brink death.

“I met your friend by the way.” Sarcasm had lightly dripped from her tone when she spoke to Clark after the event of the Farmers Market had ended, once she and her granddad were loading the truck up with produce left over from the sales.

Clark had given her a quizzical look when he turned to her, his hands gripping the handles of a cooler container. “Friend?” His thick brows furrowed in confusion. “Remind me again who you’re talking about?”

She sighed with a roll of her eyes, watching him place the cooler far back in the trunk. “Y’know, Lex Luthor? The guy you saved the other day.”

He seemed to perk up at the mention of the familiar name, quickly whipping his head towards her where a hint of surprise overwhelmed his boyish features. “Lex? You met him already?” He scratched at the wavy hair atop his head. “When did this happen?”

Her lips pinched with a shrug of her shoulders, and her eyes fell to the ground where her foot absently kicked at a tiny pebble, as if unsure of her own feelings about the personal encounter with the billionaire. “Today. He jus…wanted a few things. I guess.” She muttered. It’s no mistake the way she conveniently left out the flirtatious comments he directed at her, feeling embarrassed enough as it is from the flirting she received. Just going over the interaction between them in her head almost made her blush. “He seems…well…interesting, to say the least.”

Clark had expelled a short burst of air in a half-laugh, and she detected a tinge of irony mingled in his breath when he replied. “Well. Yeah, you don’t know the half of it.” He didn’t even grunt when he hoisted up a heavy box filled with honeydew melon and set it on the edge of the trunk. His movements had paused for a moment, something reeling in his head that he wanted to say. Finally, he spared her a glance, his voice dropping low in tone as if in fear someone was eavesdropping. “Can you believe the guy gave me a new truck?”

The news made her eyes almost bulge out her head, taking a small step back in surprise. “Huh? W–wha–what? A truck?” Clearly, Niah couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“Yeah!” Clark exclaimed as he raised his arms at his sides, still unable to believe it himself. “It was a 250 SUPER DUTY FORD! Brand new too. Can you believe it?”

Astounded, all she could do was blinkingly stare up at him in response, trying to digest what he said. “So…” her words began off slowly, albeit cautiously as her mind reeled to the get the facts straight, “you’re saying, Lex Luthor, jus gave you a free truck,” and she squinted one skeptical eye at him, “a billionaire, out of the good graciousness of his heart. No strings attached. Is what you’re trying to say.”

“Well,” he gulped, and his mouth twisted as he seemed to mull over her words, “apparently, he gave it to me as a gift for saving him. I guess it was his way of saying thank you. And…I don’t get the feeling he was expecting anything back either. I mean–he seems like a cool guy to me.”

Although Clark tried to stay subtle about his excitement, she saw the sparkle in his eyes, the prospect of having his very own vehicle, a Duty Ford in pristine condition that likely would do wonders for his self-esteem and boost the rank of his social status in high school–even possibly catch the glimpse of the starry-eyed Lana Lang for once. In hindsight, any teenager at his age would be ecstatic to have that type of freedom and independence–a token which represents a step closer to adulthood.

Unfortunately, Johnathan Kent didn’t exactly share the same sentiment with such a deluxe gift bestowed upon his son. As head of the household, he refused to let Clark keep it and forced him to return the vehicle that same day, much to the dismay and disappointment of Clark. But in hindsight–in which this single viewpoint remained a secret so as to avoid irritating Clark further–Niah could understand his dad’s reasoning on the matter, considering Clark is still a teenager, a freshman in high school, nonetheless. To be granted an expensive car from a stranger with the status of a celebrity, the heir of Luthorcorp, may seem strange from a parent’s standpoint.

She gets it.

But, even so, when Niah reflected over the circumstances surrounding Lex’s intentions in concern to Clark, she could acknowledge the generosity behind the gesture, to express gratitude in a way a billionaire could convey based on the luxurious environment he grew up in as a wealthy kid, despite how extravagant such gifts may be perceived by ordinary onlookers. And he certainly found no issue in flaunting his wealth, as the majority of billionaires were so often inclined, but in this instance, he dedicated his assets deemed honorable as a way to pay back what could’ve been lost, something much more precious and valuable–his life.

Still, she had no time for playboys nor casanovas.

The last time Niah checked the time, it was 12:56 pm. Now she’s looking at the clock on the wall to find it’s 3:20 pm. Her work shift was nearing its end, and the procession of the last batch of flowers was finished for the day. The bucket was filled with bountiful roses in perfect condition, and she let loose a content sigh, hand rested on her hip as she admired her handiwork. While Niah began cleaning her station, she could hear Nell talking on the phone in the main room. The ringing of the bell that hung over the entrance door signified someone had come into the shop.

Grabbing the bucket with a firm grip, she headed towards the cooler room where many other pre-made plants were stored, one’s either ready to be put to use for another project, or an order already completed and prepared to be transported to a paid customer the following day. She placed the roses on the shelf. She shivered, the low temperature prickling her skin, but not enough to cause intense discomfort that she felt a need to rush out of the room immediately. And after inspecting a few of the other plants, she turned around to leave, only to hesitate as her keen eye locked on a Tulip arrangement with a few ill leaves, their once green color melding into a sickly shade of yellow.

She wonders how that happened. Perhaps the water in the bucket got contaminated by some unknown source. Her eyebrows pinched gently in concern, a surge of emotions rushing through her as she touched the plant with both palms. The effect was immediate; the leaves shifting gently as if a wind had blew into the cool room, the yellow area that tainted the leaves transforming into a lush shade of green, returning back to its original color, from a simple stroke of her fingers.

Satisfied. An echo of a smile hovered over her mouth. The door behind her was still open, and her eyes warily peek over her shoulder to make sure no one witnessed what took place in secrecy, from prying eyes who may question the enigma of the reserved, quiet woman. Niah Foxx.

With all the bizarre reports that have sprung up, she couldn’t nip away the curiosity if there exists a connection between her abilities and Smallville, since this was the same town where her powers first manifested as a child. One can’t be certain with little evidence to back up her conjecture. But it at least proves she’s not the only anomaly of a human to exist in this world.

It was about that time to leave. Niah stepped out of the cooler, sealing the door shut behind her with a solid click. Nell was standing behind the counter when Niah entered the front room, talking with her niece, Lana, who was leaning comfortably against the counter on the opposite side of her. Part of her face was hidden by her long hair.

The image of the brunette-haired girl was always a pleasant sight, her presence always seen more as a welcome than a disturbance in contrast to most teenagers which Niah had unfavorable experiences of encountering with. Lana’s frequent visits to the shop every other day after school offered them the opportunity to interact on most occasions, and their conversations were enjoyable, discovering shared interests as a small friendship steadily formed between the older and younger. Their bond especially bloomed after one night of fun when Nell invited Niah to spend time with them singing a mix of 90’s and 80’s karaoke songs at the Beanery.

She approached the counter, gaining the attention of both aunt and niece. “Hey, how’s it going with you?” Niah smiled fondly at Lana, offering her quick hug.

“Ah, nothing much.” Was her short response, pushing a few strands of hair away from her face after she pulled away, her silky tone as lovely as her smile. “I just needed to drop something off here before the shop closes.” It wouldn’t have been apparent or as noticeable to someone if they heard Lana speak, but Niah could sense a tincture of sobriety behind her teeth, something hidden itself like a face concealed behind a dark veil.

Niah doesn’t pry it out with a question, at least not in the presence of her aunt, nor make known of her observation as of yet, but instead pretends to not notice anything unusual, and simply says. “Oh okay. It’s nice to see you stopped by though.” Niah’s palm stroked her back comfortably, and Lana’s shoulders slump at her gentle touch, sparing her another glance beneath her long lashes that display subtle appreciation. There’s something she wanted to say, but the young girl kept her sentiments in the depths of her throat, unable to verbalize it.

For the moment, Niah then switches to her boss who was watching the two girls interact before her eyes with an expression of approval, seemingly glad that Lana found someone who could be a potential true friend to her. Or maybe adopt the role of an older sister. Her Aunt didn’t appear to notice anything unusual about her niece’s dreary demeanor, though.

It’s a shame. But not everyone was gifted with intuitive feeling and the capability to sense the moods of another soul, even when they lived in the same household and breathed the same air.

Niah propped her arm on top of the counter, leaning in a bit close to Nell as if she were passing on a secret, and the older woman also leaned over the surface in an inquisitive manner. “And Nell, I think something is going on with the Tulip bouquet for order number eleven. Probably something going on in the water or it’s sick? I’m not so sure. I just noticed it just now after I left the cooler.”

Her red hair bounced as her head flinched back slightly, and her brighter red lips turned downward in the shape of a frown. “That’s certainly odd. I know we cleaned the buckets out yesterday.” She stated, obviously confused by this new development. But the worry on her face lifts a bit, and she flaps her hand a couple times in the air at her in a reassuring gesture, shaking her head. “Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it, hon. You go head home and I’ll handle the rest here. You did good work today, as you usually do.”

She blushed, straightening her posture as she nodded. “Thank you ma’am.” And turned to the teenager beside her who also returned her gaze. “Wanna come? We can talk a little while I get my things together.”

Lana’s shoulders lift with a single, quick nod. “Yea, sure thing.” Her smile tensed.

They headed towards the back of the store with Lana following behind Niah as she led the way to a private room that held her personal belongings. Once they reached their destination, Niah reached up to untie the beige bandana wrapped around her thick hair, sighing contently as she felt the freedom of her dark dreadlocks drape over her shoulders. After hours of her hair tightly constricted during work, the airy sensation on her head felt soothing to allow her scalp a chance to breathe.

As she reaches for her leather brown jacket off a hanger, she heard Lana’s voice filter throughout the room. “You seem pretty comfortable here, now. Nell hasn’t been working you very hard, has she?”

She turns towards her and hoists her jacket over her shoulder, an easy grin touching her lips. “Nah, things have been pretty good. I have fun working with plants. I’m used to getting my hands dirty anyway. I like the feel of it, even if I do get poked by thorns sometimes.” A small joke as she lifted and twisted her hand in Lana’s view.

“Ha, I can imagine...” The lightness of her voice faltered slightly, merging on something pensive. Though she tried to conceal it with a tiny smile that couldn’t quite reach her eyes.

It was noticeable enough, as Niah was able to sense the slightest shift in volume and timbre. “So, I heard that there’s a pep rally coming up at your school soon.” Niah lightly initiated, albeit with a touch of care in her tone. “Are you excited about that? The game an all that?”

Lana pressed her back against the wall, her eyes falling to focus on the wooden floor beneath her shoes. “Mmm…” Her lips puckered in response, tongue poking inside her cheek as her arms folded across her chest. From the way the young girl “I probably would’ve been a day ago,” and her head cocks to the side, her dark hair casting half a shadow over her face, “if I didn’t quit cheerleading, anyway.”

Niah almost did a double take, but her mouth falling open indicated her silent surprise. “You quit? Since when?”

Lana’s hand lifts towards her forehead, two of her fingers massaging at the tip of her thin eyebrow, applying pressure upon her temple. “Since today.”

The heaviness under her breath was enough to connote her displeasure, not directed at Niah by any means, but it stemmed from some situation she hasn’t yet disclosed with her. “Wow. This–this is soo surprising.” Was all Niah could say as she noticed Lana moving to close the door, as if afraid someone would listen in on their conversation. Niah dropped her jacket on the desk and stepped forward, and Lana didn’t pull away when Niah took her hands in hers. “What made you wanna leave? I mean…right before the next game in a couple days? That’s kinda close, isn’t?”

Lana’s gaze finally lifted to meet hers, pain and distress reflecting in her hazel eyes. “Do you know about the Torch? The high school paper?” She asked quietly.

The name sounded familiar. “I think Clark mentioned it to me before. His friend–I think it was…uh, Chole who runs it. But I don’t really keep up with high school stuff like that anymore.” Niah actually never did care. After she graduated senior year, she left all traces and residue of the high school experience behind her. In the past. A mere chapter in her book which she had no interest in rereading again. “What about it though?”

“Well, prepared to be surprised.” She rolled her eyes, her mouth curling into a facsimile of a smile meant to resemble satire. “The latest article…well….” her teeth dug into her bottom lip, thinking, “the article showed some guys on the team have been caught cheating on their midterm, just so they can play some–some stupid game.” She looked down at the floor again. Unsure. Embarrassed. “They were my friends and now… I’m not soo sure how to feel about them anymore.”

Oh, no. The poor girl. Niah tightened her hold on Lana’s hands, felt her heart squeeze in her chest, aching on her behalf. “I’m sorry to hear that, Lana. I know how disappointing this must be for you.” Disappointments were a constant presence in her own life, unwanted and uninviting; she was familiar with such feelings Lana must be going through. “Your boyfriend is the lead quarterback on the team, right? Did he also get caught cheating or…?

She didn’t answer right away, her downcast gaze still glued on the floor, but Niah could see her face clearly due to her standing a few inches smaller while she observed uncertainty flash over Lana’s features. She watched her take a deep, steady breath, and blew slowly, responding carefully. “He claims he didn’t cheat, and I want to believe–No. I do believe him. But…he did know his friends were cheating but didn’t speak up about it.” Her eyes met hers then before looking away to the side. “It’s just… I don’t know. I can’t see myself supporting people who would swindle their way through school, or anything just to win a game–anything, really. Without remorse or regret for their actions. What type of person would that make me if I continue to associate with them? That I’m okay with what they did?”

It's odd how Lex Luthor popped up in her mind again. Of all time and circumstances. But she remembers his unease, his look of regret and remorse when he expressed his penance at the market with her, even though he technically didn’t harm anybody in the accident. What does that say about his character? A young billionaire who went into his own pocket to pay for the re-construction of Loeb bridge to get it fixed for his error. He didn’t have to go out of his own resources to do that. But he did it, instead of trying to sweep it under the rug.

She shook the thought out of her head, re-focusing back on the reality of Lana’s dilemma. “Mhm. And how does Whitney feel about his friends…or ones who were involved in that?”

The question caused a different reaction this time. As Lana’s face suddenly became pinched, as if she’d been pricked by a thorn. And she slipped out of Niah’s grasp and proceeded to step around her, folding her arms again. “Like any guy would, apparently.” Her tongue became tainted with mild annoyance, but she was frustrated all the same. “They’re his buddies, his bros. Friends he’s known for years. How do you expect him to feel? All he could say was: ‘People are not perfect. It’s no big deal.’”

Niah could only watch the girl shake her head, probably must be just as disappointed in Whitney’s passive stance as she is with her former friends cheating scandal, if they were even her real friends at all. Possibly this event might initiate some sort of awakening within her, because Niah could feel a strain of tension in the air, its thickness looming over Lana that surrounds her like a cocoon.

For a moment, Niah collects her thoughts together. One by one, drawing inspiration from her own past experiences in school, memories in a glass bottle she didn’t care to remember. But her next set of words are delivered with delicacy, her dulcet voice a house of sympathy towards her friend’s state of agitation.

“I understand, Lana.” She says kindly, soothingly as she walks over, lifting her hand to stroke Lana’s bare forearm. “I’d most likely do the same thing if I found out my friends were being deceitful behind people’s backs, especially if I knew about it. I mean–I’ve done something similar before.” Niah shares this tidbit of her past life with little detail, but it’s enough to draw Lana’s bittersweet gaze upon her again.

“I’d feel like a fake, not being authentic to myself, like you probably feel now. And…I get the feeling you don’t want to enable that type of behavior of your peers, either. I think you quitting the team is a good decision on your part. It shows you have strong values and don’t follow after the crowd, no matter what people says or expects of you.”

Only in Niah’s case, her refusal to follow the path of others led her to be alone. Trapped in the gentle clutches of solitude, lost in the realms of fanciful reveries and romantic books and other similar devices. Unpopular in high school.

Graciously, though, her words of comfort and commendation roused a tiny smile to ease its way on Lana’s face, her visage shyly brightening up. She looked like sunlight breaking through dark clouds after the wake of a thunderstorm, countenance genuine in its sincerity. “I appreciate that, Niah. Really. I do.”

“Of course.” She smiles softly. That’s all she wants. To offer comfort, to whoever may need it.

Lana turned to her fully and clasped her hands together in the form of a small plea. “Just do me a favor and don’t tell my aunt, Nell.” Her eyes were big and wide, similar to the innocence of a doe. “My mom and Nell were both cheerleaders in high school. It’ll be like I broke the cycle or some sacred tradition. She’ll be shocked when she finds out and I’d hate it if she learns about it from someone else.”

Niah listened as she grabbed ahold of her jacket, releasing a light chuckle as she shrugged the garment on, popping the collar straight. “Baby, I don’t share people’s business like that. I have no reason to, especially if you tell me not to.” She rests assured. “You tell her on your own time when you’re ready. You jus do you.”

“Thanks.”

A few minutes later, their shoes met the sidewalk on the main street of town when they exited the shop together. The air was not too cool, not too warm, and the breeze felt gentle as it skims over her cheeks. Niah thought she and Lana would part ways once they arrived outside, but Lana actually ended up joining her on her short walk towards her BMW.

The chiming sound of her keys jiggled in her palm. Niah separated the correct key from the rest before inserting it into the lock of the car. “So, what do you plan on doing now, since you’re no longer interested in shaking pom-poms and cheering for the Crows?” It was a random thought that needed to be inquired, at least to sate her own curiosity.

“I’ll think of something.” Lana sighs evenly, watching Niah climb onto the front seat where she settles behind the wheel. “Probably get a part-time job. Try something new for once.”

“Oh, you wanna do something constructive with your time? That sounds good to me.” As if ready to close the door, Niah gripped the car door handle, but not before taking a moment to pause and meet Lana’s gaze. Niah made a point to hold her stare, hoping to get the message across when she dropped a few more words of wisdom. “Jus make sure that whatever you choose to do, that it makes you happy. There’s little joy to be found in a job or activity that only adds more stress to your life. At least…let it be worth the trouble.”

Lana shares her gratitude with a simple nod, her hair bobbing against the wind. “That’s something I can agree for sure. I’ll try to remember. Thanks again, Niah.” She waved, bidding her farewell as Niah shut the door and started up the vehicle.

They part ways, Niah turning the wheel as she pulled out the parking space to ride down the road towards home.

Two days rush by in a dash.

The newspaper of the Smallville Ledger caught her eye that sunny morning, when she sneaked a glance at one of the articles her grandma was reading at the kitchen table. A car had mysteriously caught on fire, exploding in a violent combustion of flames in a parking lot that was practically empty. The location: Smallville High. The owner of the vehicle, principal Kwan, barely got away unscathed by the burning flames.

If it wasn’t for Clark’s swift rescue at the time of the scene, they would’ve lost an important figure at the school. The cause of the fire was unknown, but inspections on the vehicle suspect possible faulty wiring. Or another case, attempted murder. A mystery no one could explain with real conviction.

Unbeknownst to Niah, these current events in rural Kansas were only the tip of the iceberg.

The Beanery was a comfortable spot to relax with your nose in a book. A delicate mixture of sounds in the café dispersed throughout the low-lit, interior space. The distant tinkling of dishes clattering somewhere in the back and murmuring voices lingering between patrons at their own tables. Spoons softly clinking against the ceramic of their mugs.

The half-filled mug rested on the coffee table in front of her, and she can still taste the spicy, cocoa flavor of the chai tea swirling in her mouth. This fine evening, there was a moderate amount of people that occupied the coffee house. Thank God the place wasn’t crowded. A few high school students intermingled in their own corner, and other regulars sat in their own personal bubble next to an available window, watching life carry on behind the glass where cars drove on pass. The warm glow of the streetlights outside reflected against clear, dark windows where nighttime had washed over town.

Niah sat there on the sofa, alone in her own personal bubble, shoes neatly discarded on the floor so her legs may curl up against her thighs on the padded cushions, and fingers were shifting through pages of one of her favored books she snagged along with her from her former city home. She recently learned of Lana’s new position as a waitress at the Beanery, supposedly taking on the part-time job in an endeavor to gain some level of independence in her teenage life, forge her own path in an attempt to break the cycle of what her aunt or anyone expects her to be. The pep rally for the Crows football team was tonight, but Lana chose to fill people’s cups with coffee, tripping over her feet occasionally as she carried tray after tray, an endless cycle of accidental spills and uttered apologies.

For what it’s worth, as with any humble beginning, it’s a start, and Niah felt a need to offer her support with the use of her own company. She could be doing anything else more productive with her time, such as plucking the strings of her bass guitar at home, learning new singing material for an upcoming gig with her band back in Metropolis, or finishing up the remains of a new art piece. College work. In all honesty, even daydreaming.

Time is precious. A valuable thing. Niah is not the type of woman to give it to anyone for free, unless someone, somehow, struck a chord that resonated in her. Except, of course, when someone presses her under the thumb of obligation to grant it, reluctantly.

Other than the low chatter and delicate tinkling of cups setting upon the surface of several tables, Niah didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings, or the sharp clutter of broken dishes every so often that may sometimes cut her focus on her reading. Her mind was absorbed in the story of the characters, their monologue and dialogue speaking to her in a way that reality fails her. Fails to understand her.

It couldn’t have been more than five feet away when a voice within reach suddenly broke through her focus.

“Unique choice you got there.” They sounded male, their tone deep and melodious. Her shoulders jump before whipping her head to the source of the voice, her brown eyes staring up to meet with a pair of steel-blue ones. “For a town with an excessive fixation on adolescent athleticism, I didn’t quite expect to find ones in this town who fancies the classics of quality literature.”

He was staring down at her. Lex Luthor. With that familiar, unmistakable intensity in his gaze that may so often lock people in a trance, and that slick curl that likes to play on the side of his mouth. Of all places to encounter once again; this fine evening in a little coffee shop. But this time around, the sharpness of his cerulean eyes made her heart skip a beat. Once or twice. How odd.

Stunned by his appearance, Niah was at a loss for words. And he must be humored by her expression because a burst of breath passes his lips where he chuckles lightly, soft and deep. Her mouth parted as if to speak, but his presence was so sudden, it took her a solid moment to gather any words together. She just hadn’t anticipated to see him again so soon, or never at all. Plus, the fact he actually remembered her after only one encounter.

“M–Mr. Luthor.” She uttered, her gaze following his figure as he maneuvered around the small coffee table to sit across from her, inviting himself into her small bubble. He’s dressed in casual attire this time around, black slacks and black T-shirt to match, and a simple grey jacket, as if he finally decided to blend in with the rest of Smallville civilians. But he still seemed untouchable, his disposition emitting a radiance of confidence and boldness. Assertive. Traits in which she envied as well as found…well…piquant of a man of his elite position.

She clutches the book in her hand. She hates to admit it.

Once he was situated in his seat, he stared back, a tiny crease softly pulling at the corner of his mouth with a touch of amusement in his eyes. “Ha, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you.” He said, observing her silence as a possible indicator of blunt aversion towards his company, a typical reaction of the many people in this town who would rather not be bothered by his very existence. Soon, he planned to change people’s perception of him.

Lex leaned forward to place a few file folders on the table. “I was referring to your choice in reading,” his eye darts to the book in her grasp and back to her, “The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. Such a fascinating tale, with loneliness and isolation being a focal point of the author’s message behind the characters’ bleak experiences in the book, especially John Singer. It’s just a grim reminder that mankind as a whole can’t truly escape it. As we’ve all suffered from the nuisance of it in one way or another in our lives. Wouldn’t you agree?” He inquired, waiting to hear her response. To see what she’d say. Or do.

Niah blinked twice in a row, finding it difficult to conceal her surprise and disbelief that he was familiar with the book at all. And the way he smoothly initiated a conversation as if they were old friends, associates from the past catching up from lost years over a long span of time. Or colleague. She couldn’t control the scoff that escaped her lips, her eyes shutting briefly in amusement, dazed by his audaciousness. But nonetheless intrigued, just a tiny bit.

This man was the image of debonair incarnate–dangerous if she were a woman weak to the enchanted whims of a diplomatic billionaire as suave as Mr. Luthor.

How unfortunate for him once he eventually realizes she don’t suit the image of his type of woman.

Nevertheless, she shook her head lightly before prying the novel open, back to the page she left off on. She trembled under the weight of his scrutiny. “Ah, yeah–yeah. I do.” Her gaze fell upon a piece of monologue of one of the characters, reading the sentence over and over again like a mantra that imprinted itself in her mind. Lex then observed the way her expression softens, almost pensive in its quality as her lips curl slightly into small, quiet smile. “It’s sad how strong loneliness is felt by man. It’s a universal feeling that’s jus….part of life. There’s no way of getting around it or escaping it, no matter how hard we may try to avoid it…”

Words pause on a lowly note, and her gaze flickers to him, expecting him to have gotten bored by the sound of her voice, become preoccupied with something else more interesting than what she may say.

His eyes were on her, that icy gaze of his unwavering in their focus on her person. It surprised her that she held his attention for this long, that someone was actively listening to one of the things she was passionate about. A stranger of his high caliber in the corporate world, waiting for an ordinary woman to continue any thought she wishes to share. She swallowed, suddenly self-conscious about the sound of her own voice. She never did like her voice; she wondered how she must sound to him. Her gaze averts back down between the pages.

“It, um,” she twirls a dreadlock with her finger, its girth encompassing it like a vine, “it jus reminds me that people go through the same feelings as any other person–some feeling it more strongly than others, even if they may not show or express it. It’s almost instinctive how humans crave companionship...or someone to jus listen and understand. It’s probably why I like this book so much.”

“Because you see yourself in the characters.” He observes in a matter-of-fact fashion. “That seems like a good enough reason to indulge yourself in the storytelling as much as you do.”

She pauses again. Pausing to examine him, to really look at him. Her head tilts with curiosity, her voice containing a little wonder, her expression dubious. Uncertain of his motives. Why he chose to sit and talk to her in the first place. “You’re… familiar with this book, I see…I don’t know too many people who’ve read it…my peers back at home, I mean.”

His brows quirked at that as he granted her a smile, one full of charm with the hope of disarming her walls, and he decided on spot to take this opportunity to connect with her on a subject that pertains to her interests. “Why yes, it’s one of the many novels I’ve read over the years while locked in my own version of solitude.” And with that, he picked up one of the file folders sprawled on the table and leaned back in his chair, crossing a leg over his knee as he settled comfortably into his seat. “But, unlike isolation, being in a state of solitude is not always necessarily a bad thing as people make it out to be. It’s funny how people get the terms mixed up all the time. It all depends on how a person uses it to their advantage, or mold it to suit their benefit, is the way it should be utilized.”

Lex was well aware that his focus should be on the task at hand involving the Smallville Plant workforce, the one forcibly assigned to him by his bastard of a father. The frustration of his dad’s imperativeness after suffering defeat by his hand in a fencing match supplied an exceeding amount of frustration and anger to boil to the surface that he could care to admit.

And yet, this young woman lying half-way across before him, arm propped on the armrest with book in hand, legs curled and folded comfortably on the sofa. Lovely. The gaze she lures him in is a gentle, thoughtful look akin to the warmth of a candle that glows in their dark inner depths. Although gently guarded, a dash of bashfulness sprinkled in those brown eyes of hers, sugar in his coffee. Her visage was all too alluring for tired, weary eyes to think of anything else. He failed to realize how the vexation he felt earlier had considerably dwindled, abated while conversing with this woman who clearly possessed layers he wished to explore.

She wields a beautiful face, as did many women he encountered every so often in his line of business–her attractiveness was not bold that strictly demanded one’s attention, no, but it appeal to him in a way that reminded him of a Dutch renaissance painting hung on display at the Metropolis art museum, during the Dutch golden age era. A natural beauty with round cheeks and soft edges paired with full lips. The artistry of her design and composition of her position on the sofa portrays demureness with a stroke of sensuality. Again, lovely.

Oh, his stomach twists in pleasurable agony.

It caught Lex off guard, especially when he first stepped into the cafe, like any man easily enamored by a woman’s physical beauty. He could write a list in his mind the number of men who observed them inconspicuous, tempted every so often to drag their gaze in their direction, and he knew the mark of where their eyes lingered upon.

It’s the sole reason why he even approached her at the Farmers Market at all; initially, the cause of his interest was based on shallow attraction. He can admit that. But what man or woman haven’t experienced moments of weakness? Hasty decisions built on gluttonous impulse of fleshly desires?

Lex Luthor was no saint.

Lex couldn’t be certain of what he expected other than to gain her attention that day, possibly develop into something more. Only for the girl to reject his advances. A small blow to his ego, cushioned by her kindness he wasn’t entitled to. A rarity in this town that treats him with contempt.

And now, to listen to her low, sultry voice speak thoughts about a renowned book that touches on the perpetual tragedy of the human condition when confronted by the constricting walls of isolation? He concluded she was clearly much more than just a pretty face.

“Well, yeah-” her spine straightens as she shifts in her seat, fascinated by his thought process, reasoning and sense of understanding, “-solitude is a space meant for self–reflection and meditation. It’s either a time to think, gain inspiration, or a moment to breathe when life starts to get overwhelming to handle. But… then… there are some people who get too comfortable in their own solitude that they don’t make much time for anyone else and end up isolating themselves as a result.” It was ironic how once the words left her mouth, visions of the past couples of months rushed to her mind, images of her where she spent the majority of her days in solitude either in her bedroom writing poetry or wandering in her backyard tending to her garden, feeding and watching birds.

The true nature behind her solitary behavior was isolation in its severity.

“I can agree with that.” He rubbed his index across his bottom lip. This felt natural, this steady flow between them. He fancied it in a way that was different from most women he gave his time to. Suppose it was simply the sincerity in her eyes, sincerity behind her words, a trait farfetched in the world he was born into. “There’s a certain weight to it that requires a scale to maintain the necessary measurement to achieve equilibrium, as does all things in the circle of life demand it. Although solitude lives on a similar spectrum, loneliness and isolation are both different beasts entirely. It’s not exactly something you can always pull yourself out of on your own.”

She shares her agreement with a short nod, but the motion wouldn’t have been as noticeable if not for his keen attention to her body language, as her mind now seemed a tad distracted by something he couldn’t solve with a mere glance. Lex swore he saw an opening, one wall being stripped down, her heart splitting open to reveal a piece of her core.

Then it closed just as quickly. The bud retracting into itself from fully blossoming.

What had gone wrong.

His mouth opened to speak, but the chance slips away when he catches a figure entering the corner of his vision strolling towards them. Niah followed his gaze in tow, recognizing Lana donning in a complete waitress uniform.

It still boggled Niah’s brain that the younger girl took on the position as a waitress at a coffee shop nonetheless, as cliché as it sounded, but she supposed everybody got to start somewhere. Niah, though, could never succumb to such a job of serving tables.

“Lana.” Lex greeted as his face lit up, amusement saturating his tone as she stood before him wearing a green apron with a tiny notebook and pen in hand. He didn’t miss a beat, giving her a quick look over. “What happened? Did Nell put you out on the street?”

Niah pressed a closed fist against her mouth in an attempt to stifle a chuckle, but she knew Lana heard it because the girl peeked over at her with a closed lipped smile of her own. But she maintained her poise against his tease and only offered a few nods towards him. “Just decided to join the workforce.”

“Good for you. I’m sure you’ll be employee of the month in no time.”

Lana hesitated for a split second, sneaking another peek at Niah again as an ounce of uncertainty flickered across her face, but the smile remained intact, although tense, as she continued in honesty. “Well, right now, it seems I hold the record for most dishes broken in a single day.” Though her admittance was graceful, it did nothing to suppress the absolute shock that creeped upon Niah’s expression at this new development.

“What?” Niah blurted out, sitting up straight in her seat as she turned towards Lana who was now rubbing her temple, slightly embarrassed of her friend’s reaction at the news of her mishaps of the day. “You just started and you’re destroying the dishes already?” Lana was an exceptionally elegant young girl. It was hard to accept she possessed the capacity to lack balance and precision in her movements in any way, shape or form.

“First day on the job aren’t always the easiest, y’know.” Lex interjected as he came to Lana’s defense, but he had to control the muscles around his mouth to avoid a smile born of irony at the poor girl’s misfortune. “It’s new territory. It can take a day or so to find one’s footing in a new environment you’re not familiar with. I assume you’ve experienced something similar to that?”

“Yea but… ” The worry in her voice faltered then, the logic of his words sinking in. The truth of the matter was Niah couldn’t bear the thought of Lana losing her job so soon, knowing how strict and merciless her boss could be on their employees–should any more accidents occur before the end of the week, they won’t hesitate to let her go at the drop of a hat. “– did you at least get some training on how to balance the trays and serve tables? It shouldn’t be that hard.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, albeit bashfully, before responding. “Actually, it’s my second day.” She admitted. “And they did show me the ropes, but I suppose doing the actual work while on the clock is a lot harder than I thought it would be. But I’m sure I’ll get the handle on things soon. It’s only been two days, after all.”

It was a comical sight, practically how in sync Lex and Niah glanced at each other at that exact same moment, almost as if they shared the exact same thought. But what thoughts they may be, they kept it to themselves. One thing was for certain, though, was how Niah could appreciate Lana’s mindset of embracing the optimistic side of things, a positive attitude for being hopeful, which she often struggles to implement into her own life.

“By the way,” Lana tilted her head and clicked her tongue, her eyes darting between the two young adults, something in her gaze gaining an inquisitive glimmer, but it was the hint of mischief in them that made Niah wary, “how… do you two know each other, seeing that Lex just came into town? Or maybe the heir of LuthorCorp is just that good at making friends with everyone who crosses his path?”

Niah winced at the teasing in her voice. Lana probably knew the question would get under her skin, which is why she even bothered inquiring about their relationship at all. And now she had to succumb to being pushed under the spotlight along with him. Lex, however, simply looked at her.

“Farmer’s Market.” He kept his tone casual, the way he said it simple and blunt, unfazed by the question. “I stumbled upon her booth, decided to buy some of her produce because I wanted to show some support for… some of the locals.” His gaze then wandered back to Niah, propping his arms on his thighs as he leaned forward in his seat, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “Then imagine my surprise when I stumble upon Ms. Foxx in a local coffee shop. I sat across from her and, here we are, exchanging similar sentiments on a common interest we both share on a renowned, literature classic dated back to the 1940’s. It’s quite simple, really.”

It took Niah a second to process everything that he mentioned, silently impressed by his fanciful narrative of their meeting in the fashion of a renaissance tale between two souls who connected by chance, far from the chains of city borders, but what exactly laid beyond their future remained a mystery in itself. “Yea–yea, that’s, um, pretty much how it went.” The smile on her face is weak, uncertain, unlike Lex who is anything but. “I suppose it’s called ‘Smallville’ for a reason. The town is so small, it’s easier to run into people again than it is in the city.”

“Hm, it’s that simple, huh?” Lana mulled slyly, shooting Niah a skeptical look meant to tease, and she silently wished at that moment she could escape into a nearby field, back into the arms of solitude with only her book to keep her company. “Well, if that’s the case, since I’m here, is there anything you guys want? I better get back to work before my boss start yelling at me.”

Niah decided to pass for the time being, so Lana switched to take Lex’s order. He requested his cappuccino to be served in a Styrofoam cup as a safety measure, prompting Lana to roll her eyes, albeit playfully before she walked away from the pair. They were left alone to their own devices once more, Lex casting Niah a smirk before finally diverting his attention to the file folders on the table. Niah tried to focus her attention on her book, but along with Lex’s obtrude vicinity serving as a major distraction, the familiar voice of young Clark Kent now conversing with Lana also caught her ear, something about him joining the football team.

That couldn’t be right. Clark didn’t seem the type to want to engage in high school sports. Something about it seemed off. And if he did, he never mentioned his interest about it to her before.

“Rumor has it Clark Kent joined the football team.” Lex’s words penetrated her ears as he began talking to Clark who strolled over to them, basically replacing Lana who before stood at the same spot a couple seconds ago, only this time Clark moved to sit down next to Niah on the couch. Since they now shared the same furniture, she shifted up into an upright position to allow him space on her side.

And this is when she quickly deduced that she wouldn’t get any more reading done at all. This was just what Niah needed, more distractions and socialization. Granted, she did choose to visit a public setting in solitary support for Lana’s first job at the Beanery, a hip joint where people came for the purpose of interacting with their peers and developing new relationships.

Perhaps this was a sign from the unknown, a sign to step out of herself and engage with the people around her. But it didn’t mean she was quite ready to open herself up in that way, at least not yet. Clark, she was fine with. But Lex, well…

“Rumors true.” Clark’s response held no hint of enthusiasm whatsoever.

“Congratulations. Your dad must be thrilled.”

“Actually, he freaked out.” Was his alarming claim, and he glimpsed at Niah beside him before allowing his eyes to linger on the floor, his usual bright demeanor now oozing with dejection. “Told me I couldn’t play.”

Niah’s brows pinched together in concern as that familiar force of intuition spurred within her, and she discerned Clark must be seeking some type of support, the type of support and validation which his father wouldn’t afford his own son. She rested a hand on his shoulder and offered a gentle squeeze, a gesture meant to comfort the troubling boy. “I’m surprised Clark. I didn’t know you was interested in football like that. I don’t see why he won’t let you play? Can you think of any reason why he wouldn’t let you?”

They both watched as Clark's lips pressed into a fine line, deep in thought over her query as he searched for an answer. He said nothing as he fiddled with his thumbs. Nonetheless, Niah’s touch did prove to be a bit reassuring as a physical act of comfort, something she knew he needed, evident in the way his shoulders relaxed a tiny bit where her hand lingered.

“That’s the thing.” He shook his head solemnly. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what the big deal is…he used to play football around my age, so I don’t know why things are different now. You know, I’m surprised at my dad–I mean, he claims I should make my own decisions, but when I do, he shuts me down.”

“I know– ” Lex proceeded to chime in, granting his own dose of perceptivity into Clark’s unsuccessful predicament with his dad, “–and you’re out late, waiting for him to go to bed so you can avoid the uncomfortable silence that greets you when you get home.”

“Wait, how’d you know?” Clark asked curiously. Niah remained quiet while she listened in silence, harboring a little curiosity of her own.

“Let’s just say that the Luthor’s wrote the book on uncomfortable silences.” And smiled.

It didn’t escape Lex’s notice how comfortable they seemed with another due to their physical nearness; Clark willingness to intrude into her private space, and Niah welcomed him, even offering a consoling hand as she listened to his worries without a moment’s interruption. The sight was endearingly tender, almost maternal in a sense. And he briefly wondered about the length of time it’ll take for him to get into her good graces enough to receive similar affectionate treatment, if it was ever possible. He tried not to feel a certain way about it, nor dwell on it, but it just served as one more (painful) reminder of something he didn’t have.

Something he yearned for. If Luthor’s were even allowed the privilege to yearn for anything sentimentally heartfelt.

Clark seemed satisfied with his answer. He then inquired about the folders scattered on the table. In truth, Niah wondered the same thing when Lex first arrived but refrained from prying into his private business since she knew very little about him. Yet, it turned out Lex didn’t mind sharing the state of affairs concerning his work at the Smallville Plant, and hinted by the soberness that crossed his countenance, she garnered his discontent over the fact that his father assigned a forceful demand on him to cut twenty percent of the Factory’s personnel. Although she won’t personally suffer from the impact of this decision, the news unsettled her, and she could imagine the number of employees who depended on the factory wages to care for the needs of their families.

“Why would he do that? There will be a lot of people who will lose their jobs if that plan goes through. Have he considered the amount of people whose lives will fall into financial ruin by this?”

He blinked away from the files to lock eyes with hers, and the expression reminded her of a man who has accepted defeat to his enemy, like he had no other choice but to obey his father. “My father isn’t exactly, what you would call, a man of the people. He sent me out here to manage a factory that’s barely making ends meet due to low profits, and to top it all off, could care less about how cutting people off not only affects LuthorCorp’s already infamous reputation among the townsfolk, but also the innocent lives of good people who make an honest living here.”

Clark frowned at that. “Geez, that don’t sound too good. Is there any way around it?”

“Once my father’s made his mind up, it’s not easy to turn around.”

“Well…” Niah again chipped in, only to pause to gently nibbled on her bottom lip in a moment of thought before continuing. “There’s gotta be something that could be done about the low profits…” Resolution didn’t always require such a marvelous, grand idea that left people in a state of awe; Niah humbly believed simplicity of an expression can do wonders to stir up inspiration, a fresh new easy outlook on a complicated situation, and she decided to walk that path in mind.

Leaning over, she tapped a finger on one of the folders closest to her. “Mr. Luthor, are you familiar with the saying? ‘For every problem there is a solution?’” Voice low, soft as she spoke in a gentle manner, her gaze never strayed from his, hoping it’ll get her point across. “There might not be a clear answer or a solution for it right now, but you may have to get a bit creative enough to find it. For a shadow to manifest, there’s always a light around the corner. Your dad may have a lot of influence, but don’t let him control you like this. I know you’re smart enough to figure this out, stand up to him, and you’ll be able to help everyone.”

The man sitting across from her turned silent, expression almost unreadable, and it felt surreal how all the noise around her became muffled to her senses. Niah’s heart pounded, thinking she might’ve said something wrong, or the advice failed to achieve its positive purpose. That is, until Lex drew in a deep inhale and cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as he averted his eyes back to one of the files in his hands.

He didn’t speak, at least for a moment, but in total honesty, Lex found himself dumbfounded. In part by someone’s benevolent effort to offer support to a cause he considered unachievable, whereas others only showed fellow feeling which was typically accompanied with awkward stares from the other party, Niah extended more with words of encouragement and moral belief in his ability to do the right thing for both the community and company.

Acquaintances as he and Niah were, it was the first constructive positive thing she said in reference to his character since they met–she meant it with such sincerity, her words of faith, he frankly had no clue on how to respond to it.

The issue didn’t lie with a solution to the problem, he already had a solution in his grasp. Plain and simple, the issue dwelt with rebelling against his father’s instruction, despite the high probability of him retaliating in a trifling way Lex might regret in the unforeseeable future.

Despite the sudden wave of strange emotions he shut away in his heart, the corner of his mouth twitches, producing a wry smile for her. “I appreciate your confidence in me to overthrow my father’s cruel ruling. I’ll be sure to keep your sage advice close in mind.”

She let out a breath and sat back, a rush of relief washing over her in an instant, but before she could say anything else, Lana returned, this time balancing two mugs on a single tray. She set the warm drinks on the table, adding a few words towards their discussion. “If it makes you guys feel any better, you should’ve seen the look on my aunt’s face when I took this job…. not that I was eavesdropping or anything.”

“Guess we’re all on the same boat.” Clark remarked as Lana sat beside him on the armrest.

“No, no, no.” Lex hastily threw in. “You both stood your ground and are doing what you want, and I caved.” He gripped the handle of his tall mug and raised it towards them in a display of gratitude. “You two have inspired me…and you, Niah,” she perked up at the call of her name, realizing he set his regard onto her, “your words of wisdom have enlightened me. I’ll be sure to write them on a note close to my heart, lest I neglect what you’ve shared with me in my hour of need.”

Niah couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or if exaggerated theatrics was part of his personal appeal. Either way, his poetic extolment rose a burst of air out her chest where a small scoff passed her lips. “As long as it helps. I’m…jus a messenger.” She failed to contain the small smile that rested upon her visage which his words elicited in small cheer.

Watching their interaction, Clark squinted an eye, specifically directed at Lex as a suspicious thought crossed his mind. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, deciding to let the thought go for the time being. “Hah, yeah, Niah has sayings way beyond her years. I only joined the football team and… Lana pouring some coffee. We’re a couple of real rebels.”

Lana laughed. “Long live the revolution.”

With all that said and done, Lex finally brought the mug to his lips as everyone watched him take a sip of his beverage. “How is it?” Lana couldn’t help but ask, the young girl more or less anxious about his opinion on the drink.

Lex wiped some whipped cream off his nose, remarking dryly. “It’s perfect.”

“Okay.” Lana smiled wide, content with his reaction, and walked off to take more orders.

Clark’s gaze followed Lana’s retreating figure before glancing down at his own drink and taking a whiff. Niah held in a laugh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Lana didn’t have the slightest clue. Clark then looked at Lex. “Is that what you ordered?”

Lex tilted his mug to the side, trying to study the contents of his drink, an amused smile touching his lips. “Not even close.”

Well, at least he was nice about it.

Niah decided to stay at the Beanery awhile longer. At least for the company of familiar faces. Observing the duo interact, she found it ironic how the friendship between Clark and Lex seemed to have developed quick without delay, how easy it was to listen to them conversate without her interference.

Lex almost hit her friend with his Porsche, and yet, they were talking as if they were best friends. Best buddies. An unusual outcome.

Once Clark stood up ready to leave, Niah followed suit, hoping to escape any potential awkwardness if she remained alone in Lex’s presence. Funnily enough, when she glanced over at him, he was gathering up his files on the table in a neat pile, preparing to leave at the same time. So much for that.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Clark said as he stepped outside, turning in time to see Lex holding the door open for Niah.

Seeing he was about to leave, her arms opened towards Clark to give a hug goodbye, and he returned it in kind, as any person close to her were used to her need to spread affection, whether it was in a welcome or farewell. Clark smiled and nodded at Lex before separating from the pair, soon disappearing as he went around the corner of a building.

Now it’s the two of them. Alone again. As she rocked on her heels, tries to think of something to say to fill in the quiet space. In a sheepish fashion, her brown eyes peered up at him meekly, finding his deep blue ones already locked on her, his expression calm with a hint of expectancy in his gaze. With Lex now standing in front of her, she realizes that the top of her head barely reached his chin, but rather, she met right below the slope of his shoulder. He’s similar in height to Clark, only shorter by a few inches.

Oh, the irony of it all.

Before an ounce of awkwardness could begin to creep in on her end, Lex broke the silence before it’s given a chance. “I can say I enjoyed your company tonight.” He admits. “Our conversation earlier was rather interesting as well, before the interruption of a new teenage waitress could cut in that is…”

She glimpses down at the book in her hand. Oh, right. When her eyes flit back up to him, he sees a small smile has graced her features, not too wide or too bright, but subdued and mild like beams of moonlight. “Yeah. I liked it too. I-um, I don’t get to talk freely about stuff like that all the time. It was kinda nice to for once.”

“We can pick it up at a more convenient time, unless you have extra time on your hands for me to pick your brain some more.”

She hesitates under his stare, and her hand instinctively rises to tug at a random dreadlock. Nervous. Though the smile on her face turns bashful. “Um, probably another day may be better.”

Lex studies her face, his gaze unabashed and lingering on her. The orange glow of a streetlamp caught in his blue eyes, both warm and bright in this dark setting, as if the ice in his irises have been licked by fire. He then looked away into the distance, watching a car passing on the street. She thought, for a moment, she saw something flicker over his face then, but she’s not sure what it was, only that his eyelids had fallen low as he contemplated something she wouldn’t have known.

His chest rises and falls as he exhales deeply through his nose, tucks his free hand into his slacks pockets, his eyes briefly shut. “I understand. You don’t know me.” His gaze drifts back to her where a frown had settled over his mouth, though he tries to hide it with a small tug at the corner, resulting in a half-hearted look. “A strange, bald billionaire coming into a rusty old town with unknown intentions to its civilians. I get it. You’re a cautious girl…and you have every right to be. I apologize if I might have came on too strong towards you in anyway.”

Niah seemed to have frozen on spot, staring up at him, her dreadlock now pulled taut by her fingers. Niah certainly didn’t anticipate him to address the elephant in the room. That he openly acknowledges her discomfort caused by his forwardness, and the hopeful prospect of correcting it. Whatever pedestal society placed him on, he lowered himself to her level, coming forth with an apology. She wouldn’t have imagined him a man capable of genuine humility and authenticity, particularly at this depth he chooses to express it face to face.

Again, what does that say about his character?

Although he tries to mask it with an air of indifference, she can see it in the way he looked at her. The town has a scornful prejudice against the Luthor’s, such unfavorable biases that centers around his dad, and in turn, reflects people’s view of his son. Perhaps he was just as lonely as her. Who knows. She didn’t know him…really…

But.

Taking a risk and taking a deep breath, she slowly touches her hand against his arm, giving him a gentle pat, and a small squeeze of her palm. Lex doesn’t move or flinch away, but he glances down at where she makes contact with his bicep, and she sees his mouth parting to take a much-needed breath of his own.

The desire to comfort. Reassure. Her compassion overwhelmed her own sense of logic to maintain distance from him.

“I appreciate that.” She breathes out, her hand withdrawing slowly and holds her book with both hands close to her chest, feeling her heart thunder with emotions in conflict with each other. “I–I know I may seem cautious and reserved with others sometimes. It’s how I get to know people depending on the person. But you? You’re bold and speak your mind with tact and ease. I don’t know many people who have that type of skill.”

Niah couldn’t reveal how much Lex intimidated her, with his sharp eyes, sharp tongue and sharp mind at his disposal. His eyes alone could penetrate barriers, able to cut through layers of her supple flesh if he so desired.

Lex responds with a simple hum, his deep voice harboring a lightness to it that wasn’t present a minute ago. “It’s imperative to develop it when you’ve been bred and grew up in the business world like me.” His lips quirked up. Her touch must’ve ignited some energy back into him again. “I wouldn’t exactly call it fun, but, it comes with its advantages when handling vicious sharks during crucial board meetings.”

She shook her head. “I’d stand no chance. I’d probably be eaten alive if I was to go up against them.”

“Be grateful you don’t have to. It’s my job so people like you don’t need to.”

“Well, Mr. Luthor.” She says as she looks him straight in the eye, a bold attempt at playfulness and false confidence. “What type of person am I, then?”

Lex doesn’t blink as he returns her stare, but Niah can see he’s amused by her deliberate attempt to maintain eye contact for once, as well as the inquiry she threw at him in a venturous moment of spontaneity. Although his body had grown still, the only thing that moved were his eyes as they roved over her body. The weight of his stare left her somewhat uneasy, and she shuffles her feet as her heart rate quickens and warmth flows up her neck to the hills of her cheeks, feeling as if he’s undressing her with his eyes alone. Or maybe, she thought, this was one of the eccentric ways he observed people, utilizing the acute focus of a hawk eyeing its prey during those board meetings he mentioned.

But after what felt like a minute had passed – six seconds max – his eyes finally drift to rest on her countenance once more.

“An idealist–a dreamer with stars pouring out of her eyes.” He speaks his statement with confidence, believing his judgement to be absolute with no hint of uncertainty hinted in his breath. “Also, a woman who looks out for the welfare of others, and–if I were to guess, probably doesn’t receive the same type of reciprocation she offers to the people around her. I’m only on the tip of the iceberg but–tell me, Niah. Did I hit the nail on the coffin with my analysis?” Her stunned silence was all he needed to know, and he smirks at her flustered expression in which his poetic words elicit, the way she bites her lower lip and tries to avert her gaze from his as she scratched her scalp anxiously.

“Man, that was dumb. I really did walk into that one.” Why did she even ask that. How did he get all that from only spending a short amount of time with her? How does he perceive her now? She must sound naïve to him, which isn’t completely implausible considering her inexperience in a few areas in her life but…

The image of her deflated state brought a chuckle out of him, as if reading the thoughts in her head. “You’re not dumb, Niah.” And his assertion sounded most gentle to her ears. Almost sweet, grants her a token of reassurance of his own, hoping it’ll gain her confidence back. “Y’know, earlier, I originally went into that café behind me ready to go along with my father’s evil bidding. But now, I come out here a new man, ready to go to war against him…and sure. Clark and Lana played a small part, but your vote of confidence in me made me change my mind. I can actually see his face now, just thinking about it when he finds out I didn’t go through with it.”

She blushes more at the knowledge that she held any type of influence or bearing on his decision, at all. “Oh, your dad is that tough. Huh.”

He snorts, though there’s no sign of humor on his face as he shrugs. “The man is ruthless. But there’s no need to worry. I know I’m not. I have everything figured out.”

“As long as things will be okay. I hope things will go well.” Interesting. In this moment, her chest felt a little lighter, somehow, as if a heavy boulder had been lifted, allowing her a chance to breathe a bit better. See a bit clearer. See him and the stars overhead. But even she realized they couldn’t stand there forever, all night long on the sidewalk, her soul trapped in his cerulean eyes while he waits as she tried to sort out these odd feelings he manifested.

Pressing the book to her chest. “I suppose… I should get going…” She drawls softly, her words leaving a trail for him to follow.

He licked his lips quickly. “Right. Is your car nearby?” He began to dig out his own set of keys from his jacket. “If it’s not I can walk you–”

“It’s okay. My car is a few spaces down across the street. I, um, thank you though.”

He offered a prompt nod, and dropped his keys back into his pocket before extending his free hand out for her to shake, his other still preoccupied with the files. “By the way, call me Lex. Men decked in suits and white coats call me Luthor, and on rare occasions, even strangers have been known to call me that. But you’re no stranger to me.” Still ever cautious, she eyed his hand for a second as he held it up between them, and he waited as if he had nothing better to do. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” He teased lightly, a full-blown smirk sliding across his face. “Not always.”

This man. Oh god...what was she getting herself into.

Her head ducks with a slight shake of her head, but she couldn’t restrain the tiny smile that manages to quirk at the side of her mouth. Okay, he likes to joke. How fun.

“I’ll try to remember that…Lex.” She shook his hand. It’s bigger as she thought, his palm nearly enveloping around her own, but it felt warm, solid, and secure. She tries to ignore the tingling sensation that erupted across her skin where their hands made contact, stimulated by his warmth and low-lidded gaze he caught her in, giving her a sense of déjà vu from the Farmers Market all over again.

“Please do.”

Whatever mishaps will he drag her into?

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