Cherry Wine {lex luthor}

chapter three

"Her fight and fury is fiery, oh but she loves like sleep to the freezing." 

My face dropped at his words. My whole life, I had been raised on one strong belief-that no matter what, Superman would always save us. His arrival in Metropolis had ushered in an era of peace and profit. Crime had gone down, the murders per capita plummeted. There were of course, a few pesky alien invasions, but nothing that wasn't quickly and quietly handled. The victims were worshipped as martyrs to the cause, and Superman was lauded as our saviour.

But I knew the truth now, and my chest burned with the fire of it.

"Ruth?" Lex looked down at me. "Are you going to be alright if I go downstairs for a moment? I need to talk to some people."

"How long will you be?" I asked, already dreading the thought of being alone. For the past weeks, someone had been near me, every second of every day. There hadn't been a moment where had I called out, someone wouldn't hear me.

"No more than an hour. I can send Mercy up if you need." He sounded worried, and I sighed. I had already made myself into enough of an inconvenience. He had spent weeks in the hospital with me, no doubt losing out on business deals and the like.

"No, don't. I'll be fine." I said, trying to sound tough.

Lex looked at me skeptically. His phone chimed, and he closed his eyes in frustration.

"If you're sure. Make yourself at home. Go find your room. If you need anything, call the front desk." He stood, swiping to open a call on his phone. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Give me five minutes."

The elevator doors slid closed behind him, and I got off the couch. It was time to explore. The open floor plan on the first level made finding my bearing easy enough. The kitchen and living room were just one big square, with the staircase to the second-floor arching above it all. I eyed it, wondering if my leg could handle the climb.

The stairs were slippery, and the metal handrail seemed to be more for decoration than anything. It was flimsy, and I was afraid of putting my weight on it, in case it collapsed beneath me. Instead, I limped up, slowly and surely, until at last, I was on the balcony.

It stretched out before me, glowing and yellow in the sunshine. There was a skylight above me, and I tilted my head back, letting the sun warm my face. It had been what felt like years since I had been outside. I hadn't looked in a mirror since the accident, but I was sure my skin had paled-not just from lack of sun, but from stress and blood loss.

Shaking myself out of my trance, I carefully pushed open the first door. It was a closet, filled with binders. I frowned, and closed the door.

The next room was what was clearly a home office-there was a large wooden desk, and shelves of books. Like all the other rooms, it had wide, floor to ceiling windows facing out over Metropolis. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a hospital helicopter buzzing over the degraded city. I shuddered, the memories clawing away behind my eyes. The rubble, the fear-all of it sat like a brick in my stomach. I knuckled my eyes, rubbing until swirls of colour appeared. There was nothing to be done about it now. I had to move on.

I eventually found my room, the second last door along the open hallway. It was painted a delicate white and green, and flowers filled the space. The window was covered by flimsy white blinds, and they floated gently in the breeze. The whole room looked like something you find in a beach house in Maine- old fashioned, but sweet and simple. Even the bed had a quilt that could have come from an old lady's quilting club, all pink and blue and floral.

I sank onto the bed, grateful to take the weight off my leg. The mattress sank under me like a cloud, and I lay back, my feet swinging off the end of the bed. I had looked in every room in the house-except one. The only door left could only possibly lead to one place. It went against my (admittedly not very strong) moral compass to open that door-not to mention that I had been raised never to enter someone's bedroom without permission, especially not a man's. Unfortunately, my curiosity was insatiable, and, because despite the size of the apartment and the beautiful room I had been given, I was bored.