The door to the dimly lit warehouse creaked as you stumbled inside, each breath a sharp, agonizing reminder of what it took to get here. The metallic taste of blood coated your tongue, and your legs felt like they might buckle at any moment. Deep gashes on your arms and bruises blooming across your ribs protested every step, but none of that mattered. Not now. Not when Lena was here.
Somewhere ahead, muffled voices filtered through the stale air. You clung to the wall for support, your bloody hand leaving streaks on the cold surface as you pushed forward. When you rounded the corner, the sight of Lena hit you harder than anything had that night. She was bound to a chair, her dark hair messy, her face pale but fiercely defiant. Clearly, they’d tried to break her, tried to make her call for Supergirl. Of course, she hadn’t..that was their goal and Lena wasn’t going to give them their way.
Lena was stronger than them. She didn’t need Supergirl.
She had you.
"Lena…" The word escaped your throat, a rasp that barely sounded like your voice. Still, it was enough. Her head snapped up, relief flickering across her face before it was swallowed by panic.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped, her voice trembling as she fought against her restraints. “What did they do to you?”
You forced a smirk, leaning against the wall as if you hadn’t just left a trail of blood from the front door. “Me? Oh, nothing much. Just thought I’d pop in for a chat. Great ambiance, by the way. Love what they’ve done with the place.”
Lena’s eyes darted over your frame, taking in the torn fabric clinging to your battered body, the blood staining your shirt, the bruises darkening your jaw. Her panic deepened. “You’re hurt. You’re—”
“—fine,” you cut in, your tone light, deflective. You staggered over to her, each step a battle you refused to let her see. “More worried about you, Doc. They haven’t roughed you up, have they?”
She shook her head quickly, though her eyes never left yours. “No, they didn’t get the chance. But you—” Her voice cracked, and before you could stop her, her hands reached out to steady you as you swayed, the warehouse blurring for a moment around the edges of your vision.
You straightened up, forcing a cocky grin you didn’t feel. “Told you, Luthor, I’m fine. Tougher than I look.”
Lena’s hands lingered on your arm, her touch both a comfort and a reminder that she saw through every one of your lies. “You’re bleeding everywhere,” she pointed out, her voice trembling.
“Not everywhere,” you quipped, trying to inject humor into the tension. The joke landed hollow as you doubled over with a cough that sent a splatter of blood to the floor. You swiped at your mouth with the back of your hand, avoiding her gaze. “Okay, maybe somewhere.”
Lena’s face turned ashen, her hand tightening around your arm. “We’re not going anywhere until I—”
“—until you what?” You cut her off, gripping her arm and pulling her to her feet despite the sharp protest from your ribs. You couldn’t let her argue, couldn’t let her worry about you. That wasn’t how this worked. “Patch me up in the middle of a hostage situation? Not happening. We’re leaving, Lena.”
She hesitated, her eyes searching yours. “You can barely stand. What happens if you collapse out there? If someone—”
“Hey.” You dropped the cocky grin for just a moment, letting something softer slip through. “I’ve got this. You trust me, don’t you?”
Her lips parted, the words catching in her throat. She trusted you more than she should. More than was probably good for her. “I do. But that doesn’t mean—”
“Good,” you interrupted, tugging her toward the exit. “Then let’s get out of here before the rest of your welcoming committee shows up.”
She let you pull her along, though her sharp eyes never left you. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath.
“And you’re still here,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Guess we’re both a little stubborn.”
She huffed out a disbelieving laugh, but it was cut short as she noticed the way your steps faltered, the weight of your injuries dragging at you. Her hand slipped into yours, gripping tightly as if willing you to stay upright. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” she said softly.
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. If you let her in now—if you acknowledged the weight of her words, the warmth of her hand in yours—you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep up the act. So, instead, you pushed forward, ignoring the ache of your body that begged you to stop.
Lena, for her part, stayed silent as the exit loomed closer, her worry written in every glance she cast your way. You didn’t deserve that kind of worry, that kind of care. But damn it, you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away either.
The night air hit you like a wave—cold, biting, and sharp against your raw skin. It offered no relief to the tight, labored breaths rattling in your chest. Every step felt heavier than the last, your legs threatening to buckle, but you kept moving. You had to.
Beside you, Lena walked in silence, though her quickened breaths betrayed her worry. Her hand brushed yours once, then again, before she finally grabbed it, steadying you when you swayed. You caught the flicker of fear in her eyes each time she glanced at you, but she didn’t say a word. Whether her fear stemmed from the potential for another attack or the sight of your deteriorating condition, you couldn’t tell. Probably both.
The alley came into view, your car parked just beyond the shadows. Relief flickered in Lena’s expression, but her grip on your hand didn’t loosen as you stumbled toward the vehicle.
“Here we are,” you rasped, fumbling with the keys before unlocking the door and opening it for her. “Your chariot awaits, Luthor.”
Lena crossed her arms, unmoving. Her voice was low but shaking with emotion. “You’re not fine.”
You forced a weak smile, one you hoped masked just how close you were to crumbling. “Tougher than I look,” you replied, with a strained echo of your usual sarcasm. “Now, get in the car. We’ll talk about this after—”
Before you could finish, the world tilted sharply. Your knees buckled, and you barely managed to catch yourself on the car’s doorframe. Pain lanced through your chest, stealing your breath entirely.
“Damn it!” Lena’s voice was sharp, panicked. She was at your side in an instant, her arms wrapping around you to steady you as you gasped, every intake of air a knife to your ribs. “I told you—you’re not okay!”
You wanted to argue, to tell her not to worry, but the words wouldn’t come. The edges of your vision darkened, her voice growing distant as the pain overwhelmed you. Then, nothing.
________________________________________
The steady beeping of a monitor pulled you back to consciousness. The air smelled sterile, the sheets beneath you uncomfortably stiff. A hospital.
You blinked against the blinding overhead lights, your body sluggish and heavy, every muscle aching as though it had been through a war. Turning your head, you saw her—Lena, sitting beside you. Her usually composed expression was crumpled with exhaustion, her eyes rimmed red as though she hadn’t slept all night.
Her hand was wrapped tightly around yours, her grip trembling slightly. When she realized you were awake, she let out a shaky breath of relief.
“Don’t even start,” she said, her voice thick with emotion before you could utter a word. “I don’t want to hear you say you’re fine. Not this time.”
You tried for a weak smirk but faltered, your voice coming out a hoarse whisper. “I was… worried about you.”
She let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking her head as she wiped at her eyes. “You were worried about me? You almost died.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her grip on your hand tightening like she was afraid to let go.
“But you didn’t,” you murmured, your gaze meeting hers. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a soft smile. “That’s all I care about.”
Her lips trembled, tears welling in her eyes again as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to your hand. “You idiot,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep risking your life for me.”
You shifted slightly, the sharp pain in your ribs flaring as you moved, but you ignored it. “I’d do it again,” you said simply, without hesitation. “Every time.”
Lena froze, her breath hitching. When she lifted her head, her tear-streaked face softened, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. Without warning, she leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, her hand brushing your cheek as she pulled back.
“You’re like an out-of-control child,” she said, her voice thick with affection and frustration.
“Yeah,” you whispered, the warmth of her touch lingering. “But you love me for it.”
Her silence stretched for a moment too long, and when you looked at her, the truth was written plainly in her eyes. The love she’d hidden for so long was no longer veiled, and you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge it yet.
“Don’t move,” she said suddenly, standing and wiping her face quickly. “Your injuries… I need to check—”
“Lena,” you began, your tone edged with protest. “I’m fine. It’s just—”
“Don’t.” Her voice was firm, unyielding. “I’m not losing you. Not tonight. Not ever.”
You opened your mouth, ready to push back, but her hands were already at work, carefully pulling back the blanket and inspecting the bandages on your side. She winced when she saw the blood seeping through the gauze. Her fingers were gentle but precise as she peeled it back, revealing the deep gash beneath.
“This is bad,” she muttered, her brow furrowing as she grabbed supplies from the bedside table. “Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.
Her hands stilled for a moment, and she looked up at you, her expression a mix of exasperation and something softer. “I always worry about you. Don’t you know that by now?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you watched her work, the concentration in her eyes, the way her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Lena,” you whispered after a moment, your voice softer now. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” she interrupted, her voice trembling but resolute. “Because if I don’t… who will?”
You stared at her, your sarcastic defenses crumbling under the weight of her words. For the first time, you let yourself see it—what she meant to you, what you meant to her. And it terrified you.
“Lena,” you said again, more insistently this time. “Thank you.”
Her hands paused, her gaze meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The unspoken words between you filled the silence until she finally gave you a small, trembling smile.
“Just don’t make me do this again,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please.”
“I can only promise I won’t get like this…for a while”
She let out a tired breath at that as she held her gaze. “…that’s a start” she said gently.
Children laughed and darted between stations, clutching balloons and prizes as their parents chatted nearby. Across the field, Lena crouched down to the level of a small group of kids, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke. Her warm, genuine smile was enough to make your chest tighten—something you stubbornly ignored.
You tugged at the sleeves of your jacket, your eyes scanning the crowd. Security was tight—thanks to your insistence—but you couldn’t shake the prickling unease. Lena had been a magnet for trouble lately, and you weren’t about to let anything ruin this day for her. Not after everything.
Your ribs still ached faintly beneath the layers of bandages, a constant reminder of how close you’d come to the edge a few weeks ago. You’d promised yourself—promised her—to be more careful. And maybe, in your own way, this was part of keeping that promise. Lena loved charity work, and if standing in a park all day watching kids toss rings or shoot darts could make her smile, you’d do it. Even if it bored you to tears.
As Lena glanced up and caught your eye, her face lit up with a soft smile. You returned it with a small smirk and a slight nod, a silent assurance that you were there, watching over her.
A few moments later, she made her way over to you, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of the event. “You didn’t have to come, you know,” she said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, hands stuffed into your pockets, “someone’s gotta make sure you’re not abducted by rogue clowns or something.”
Lena rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward. “It’s a charity event, not a covert operation. You’re allowed to relax.”
“I am relaxed,” you shot back, your tone laced with light sarcasm. “This is me relaxed. Just... watching.”
Her eyes softened as she studied you. “Is that what this is?” she asked, her voice gentler now. “Because you’ve been hovering like a bodyguard all day.”
You shrugged again, trying to downplay it. “Just making sure nothing ruins your big event..”
Lena tilted her head, her gaze lingering as though she was trying to read between the lines. “You’ve been pushing yourself a lot lately,” she said, her voice tinged with concern. “First, throwing yourself into danger for me, and now… this. What exactly are you trying to prove?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I’m not trying to prove anything.”
“Then what is this?” she asked, gesturing toward you with a small frown. “You’re not the charity-event type. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here, but it’s not like you to... go all in like this.”
For a moment, you considered brushing it off with another joke. But the look in her eyes—the mixture of worry and confusion—stopped you. You glanced away, your voice quieter now. “I guess I just...
wanted to make up for worrying you.”
“Make up for—” Her brow furrowed as realization dawned. “You’re doing this because of what happened before? Because you got hurt?”
“I almost died, Lena,” you said bluntly, meeting her gaze again. “And you still showed up for me. You... stayed.” Your voice softened, the usual sharp edge of your sarcasm dulled by honesty. “The least I can do is be here for you, doing something that actually makes you happy.”
Her expression shifted, the concern in her eyes giving way to something warmer. She reached out and lightly brushed her fingers against your arm, a soft, almost hesitant gesture. “You don’t have to make up for anything. I stayed because... because I wanted to. Because you matter to me.”
Your chest tightened at her words, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The weight of her gaze, so full of emotion, made it hard to maintain the wall you always kept between you. But you couldn’t let it crack now. Not here. Not yet.
“Yeah, well,” you said, forcing a grin as you tried to lighten the moment. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to earn a few bonus points while I’m at it.”
Lena huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still here,” you quipped, smirking.
She sighed but didn’t pull her hand away. “Well, since you’re already committed, I’m putting you to work. The kids at the swing at the lake help, and I think you might actually scare them into letting go of the rope.”
“Terrifying children into a lake? Sounds like my kind of job,” you replied, though your smirk softened into something more genuine as you glanced at her. “Lead the way, boss.”
As the two of you walked toward the game station, you fell into step beside her, the light banter easing the lingering tension. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen her so at ease, and if with a bunch of kids was what it took to keep that smile on her face, you’d do it.
After all, making her happy felt a hell of a lot more important than anything else. Even if you’d never admit it out loud.
The park had quieted, the echoes of children’s laughter fading into the soft hum of the evening. The setting sun bathed the field in warm hues of orange and gold, casting long shadows across the now-empty stations. You stood near the swing by the lake, leaning casually against a tree, arms crossed as you watched the last few volunteers pack up tables and equipment.
Your ribs ached faintly—a dull reminder that you weren’t supposed to be pushing yourself so much—but you brushed the thought away. The day had gone perfectly, and more importantly, Lena was happy. That was what mattered.
You heard footsteps approaching and glanced up to see her making her way toward you, the breeze tugging gently at her dark hair. Her smile was soft, tired but content, as she drew closer. She cradled a cup of coffee in her hands, the faint steam curling into the cool evening air.
“Well,” she said, stopping a few feet away. “I’d say today was a success.”
“Yeah,” you replied, your lips quirking into a small smirk. “No rogue clowns, no chaos. I’d call that a win.”
Lena chuckled, shaking her head. “You really do have the most interesting ideas about what could go wrong at a charity event.”
“Just covering all the bases,” you teased, shrugging lightly.
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, instead stepping closer and offering you the cup in her hands. “Here. I figured you could use this.”
You raised an eyebrow but accepted it without protest, the warmth of the cup seeping into your fingers. “Trying to bribe me into helping at the next one already?”
“Maybe,” she said with a sly smile, then turned to look out over the lake. The fading sunlight reflected on the water, casting ripples of gold and pink. “But seriously, thank you for coming. For staying.”
You shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. “Like I said, I’m here for you.”
Her gaze lingered on you for a moment before she turned back to the lake. “The kids had so much fun today. Did you see Emily? The little girl with the purple dress? She told me this was her first time on a swing. She was so scared at first, but by the end…” Lena’s eyes lit up as she gestured with her hands. “She was laughing so much, like she didn’t have a care in the world.”
You nodded, watching her as she spoke. The way her face softened when she talked about the kids, the way her voice grew warmer—it was mesmerizing. You found yourself listening more than you expected, her enthusiasm tugging at something deep in your chest.
“And the boy with the balloon animals,” Lena continued, her smile widening. “What was his name? Oliver, I think. He told me this was the best day of his life. Can you believe that? A simple charity event, and it meant so much to him.” She shook her head slightly, her voice quieter now. “It just... reminds me why I do this. Why it’s so important.”
You didn’t say anything, letting her words hang in the air. Instead, you watched her, taking in the way the fading light caught in her hair, the way her expression softened as she looked out over the water. It hit you then, quietly but unmistakably, just how much you cared about her. How much you wanted to be a part of the things that made her smile like this.
“I think they’re lucky,” you said finally, your voice lower, more serious than usual.
Lena turned to you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Who?”
“The kids,” you replied, meeting her gaze. “To have someone like you. Someone who cares as much as you do.”
For a moment, she looked at you, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a soft smile curved her lips. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend like you’re not the one who made today happen,” she said, her voice gentle. “You didn’t just show up—you were here, making sure everything ran smoothly. I saw the way you helped Emily on the swing, the way you made sure no one was left out. You’re more than just someone who’s ‘here for me.’ You’re… so much more than that.”
Her words left you momentarily speechless, the honesty in her tone cutting through the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. You looked away, focusing on the ripples in the water as you tried to push down the warmth rising in your chest.
“Well,” you said finally, your voice light but not as deflective as usual, “someone had to make sure the kids didn’t overthrow the event and start a revolution. I’m not great with speeches, but I can handle crowd control.”
Lena laughed softly, the sound like a balm to the tension inside you. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still here,” you said quietly, echoing the words you’d spoken earlier in the day.
Her smile softened, her eyes searching yours for a long moment. “I’ll always be here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
You didn’t respond right away, but something shifted in the silence that followed.
“Good,” you murmured, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips. “Because you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Lena’s laugh was quiet, her eyes glinting with affection as she stepped closer, her shoulder brushing lightly against yours.
---
The engine roared as you weaved through the busy streets, the speedometer climbing dangerously high. The thrill of the chase sent adrenaline coursing through your veins, a grin stretching across your face as the wind whipped through the open windows. Lena sat beside you, her perfectly tailored blazer slightly rumpled, one hand gripping the edge of her seat while the other clutched the door handle in a white-knuckled grip. Her emerald eyes flicked between the road ahead and you, a mix of exasperation and exhilaration playing across her features.
“You’re insane,” she said, her voice raised to compete with the rushing wind. But there was a hint of a laugh buried under her words, and you caught it immediately.
“Oh, come on, Luthor,” you shot back, expertly maneuvering around a slow-moving sedan. “Admit it—you’re loving this.”
“I am not loving this,” she countered, though the slight upward curve of her lips betrayed her. “This is reckless, illegal, and completely unnecessary.”
“Unnecessary?” You scoffed, throwing her a quick, amused glance. “You’re the one who made the bet.”
Lena groaned, leaning her head back against the seat. “I didn’t think you’d take it this far! I only said you wouldn’t make it to the speed limit without chickening out, not…” She gestured vaguely at the blur of traffic whizzing past the car. “...not whatever this is!”
“Technically,” you said with mock seriousness, “you said I’d chicken out before you had to tell me to stop. Subtle difference, and I’m proving you wrong.”
Her glare was sharp, but the amusement in her eyes softened the blow. “And when exactly do you plan to stop?”
“Whenever you beg me to,” you replied, grinning as you floored the gas pedal. The car surged forward, the speedometer needle creeping higher. “But I don’t think you’ve got it in you, Doc. You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Enjoying it?” she repeated, her voice pitching higher with indignation. “I’m tolerating it because you’re too stubborn to quit while you’re ahead.”
“Lies,” you teased, taking a sharp turn that sent Lena gripping the door handle even tighter. “You could’ve stopped me the second I hit the speed limit. But you didn’t.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but you cut her off. “Face it, Lena. You like it. The rush, the thrill” You glanced at her, your grin widening. “Admit it—you trust me.”
Her jaw tightened, but a flicker of something crossed her face. She glanced out the window as the car sped forward, her fingers loosening slightly on the door handle. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” you quipped, your tone light but carrying an undertone of something more serious. “Makes you wonder why, doesn’t it?”
Lena didn’t respond immediately, her lips pressing into a thin line. She hated it when you called her out like this, when you made her face the part of herself that craved the chaos you brought into her life. But deep down, she couldn’t deny it. Being with you made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in years. You made her feel reckless, free, untouchable.
The sound of sirens broke her train of thought, pulling her attention back to the road. Her eyes widened. “Are those—”
“Cops?” you finished for her, glancing in the rearview mirror with a smirk. “Yep. Looks like someone’s jealous of our fun.”
Lena groaned, covering her face with one hand. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How do you always manage to make a bad situation worse?”
“Talent,” you replied, your voice full of smug confidence as you took another sharp turn to widen the gap between you and the flashing lights behind you.
“Turn around!” Lena snapped, though there was no real anger in her voice. “We’ll get caught if you keep this up.”
“Oh, Lena,” you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “You’ve been around me long enough to know no one can catch me.”
“And you’ve been around me long enough to know this is not how I usually spend my Tuesday afternoons!” she fired back, though her tone had shifted from exasperation to something closer to playful.
“Maybe you should start,” you said, throwing her a wink. “You’re good at this whole ‘partner in crime’ thing. Lex couldn’t even keep up.”
Her laughter surprised even her, a sharp burst that she tried to stifle. “Don’t remind me of Lex’s jet,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you talked me into stealing it.”
“And yet, we did it,” you said, your grin widening as you glanced at her. “I’m starting to think you like breaking the rules with me.”
She gave you a long look, her lips twitching as though she were suppressing another smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love it.”
Lena rolled her eyes but didn’t protest. The sirens grew faint as you turned down a narrow alley, expertly maneuvering through the tight space before emerging onto a quieter road. The adrenaline in your veins began to ebb as the chase faded into the background.
“See? Easy,” you said, slowing the car to a more reasonable speed. “Told you no one could catch me.”
“One of these days,” Lena said, sighing as she finally relaxed against her seat, “your luck is going to run out.”
“Not as long as I’ve got you watching my back,” you replied smoothly, leaning over to press a quick kiss to her cheek before pulling the car into a secluded parking spot.
She turned to look at you, her expression softening despite herself. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Yeah,” you said, flashing her a cocky grin. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not admitting to anything.”
“Good,” you replied, smirking as you leaned back against your seat. “Wouldn’t want you to tarnish your squeaky-clean reputation.”
As Lena reached over to swat your arm, the two of you burst into laughter. For now, the chaos was behind you, but the unspoken understanding lingered in the air between you. You’d always be reckless, and she’d always be there.
--
The cool night air brushed against your face as you leaned over the balcony railing, the city lights stretching endlessly before you. The hum of distant traffic and the occasional wail of a siren provided a low, steady backdrop. You were lost in the view, a smirk tugging at your lips as you rehearsed how you were going to explain this one to Lena. Her voice, soft but tinged with exasperation, interrupted your thoughts.
“There you are... You said you had something urgent to tell me.” She stepped out onto the balcony, her sharp eyes scanning the space around you like she was bracing for whatever chaos you were about to unleash.
Without turning around, you let the smirk grow. “Yeah, it’s pretty serious,” you said, your tone dripping with mock gravity. “I need an alibi.”
Lena groaned audibly, already anticipating the headache you were about to give her. “Of course you do,” she muttered, crossing her arms as she moved closer. “What did you do this time?”
Finally, you turned to face her, leaning back against the railing in your most nonchalant pose. The playful glint in your eyes was met with her guarded expression, though her lips twitched faintly in a way that made you suspect she wasn’t as annoyed as she wanted to appear.
“Well,” you began, dragging the word out with deliberate ease, “you know how you specifically told me not to kill Edge?”
Her brows furrowed, and she exhaled sharply, already rubbing her temple. “Please tell me you didn’t…”
“Maybe just a little,” you teased, holding up your hand to demonstrate the tiniest gap between your thumb and forefinger.
Her groan deepened, and she stepped closer, the sharp click of her heels against the balcony floor making your smirk falter slightly. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, her frustration palpable as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I told you not to. I was going to handle it.”
You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Oh, you were, huh?” Your tone remained playful, but there was a flicker of something more serious beneath it. “But here’s the thing—he came to me. And, well... things got a little out of hand.”
She stopped in front of you, her sharp gaze locking onto yours, and you could see the war in her eyes—annoyance, worry, and something softer she wasn’t ready to admit. “Define ‘out of hand,’” she demanded, her voice calm but edged with steel.
You leaned forward slightly, crossing your arms as if you were delivering good news. “Let’s just say Edge won’t be bothering you—or anyone—ever again,” you replied with a wink, as if that should end the discussion.
But it didn’t. It never did with Lena.
Her expression didn’t soften, but she stepped closer, her gaze unrelenting. Slowly, she reached out, her hand brushing against your arm. The touch was light at first, hesitant, but as her fingers closed around your sleeve, you felt the weight of her concern in the way she gripped you. “I told you not to do this,” she said again, her voice softer now, though no less firm. “I said I’d take care of it.”
You shifted, uncomfortable with the sudden closeness—not because you didn’t want it, but because it made it harder to keep your guard up. “Yeah, yeah…” you started, but when she gave you that look—the one that could cut through your defenses—you sighed and relented. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But I didn’t like how he looked at you. Or the fact that he thought he could just walk into my space and manipulate me. So, yeah, I handled it.”
Her hand tightened on your arm, and she took another step closer, until the faint scent of her perfume mingled with the cool night air. “You can’t keep doing this,” she said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “You’re not invincible.”
You chuckled, the sound low and warm as you let your head dip forward, your forehead almost brushing hers. “I think you and I both know that’s not true,” you said softly. “I’m pretty hard to kill.”
She snorted against your chest, a quiet, exasperated laugh escaping her. “Cocky as ever, huh?”
“Only when I’m right,” you teased, letting your hand trail down her back. The contact was easy, natural, but it carried an intimacy that neither of you acknowledged aloud. “Besides, I thought you liked it when I handled things.”
Her head tilted up, and her sharp green eyes locked onto yours, her expression softening but no less serious. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t handle things that could land you in prison, or worse.”
“Noted,” you said with a mock salute, though your grin faltered slightly when she stepped back, creating just enough distance to make you miss the warmth of her against you.
Lena sighed again, running a hand through her hair before placing it on her hip. “I’ll be your alibi,” she said finally, her voice tinged with reluctant resignation. “But you owe me.”Her words were light, almost playful, but the way she looked at you told a different story. She wasn’t just frustrated or tired of your antics. She was worried.
You smirked, leaning in closer, your voice dropping into a playful, almost conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, I owe you? Lena, love, if memory serves me right, I just took care of one of your biggest headaches. I’d say we’re even.”
Lena rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her, tugging upward into a reluctant smile. “Even, huh?” she said, her voice tinged with both amusement and frustration. “You killed someone I was going to deal with anyway.”
“Yeah, maybe,” you said with a casual shrug, your tone thick with mock arrogance. “But I just saved you the trouble. After all, it was for my princess.”
The sarcasm in your voice was unmistakable, but there was an edge of sincerity in the way your gaze softened when it landed on her. It was subtle—barely there—but it was enough to make Lena falter. Her playful mask slipped for a moment, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.
“You can’t protect me from everything, you know,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against your arm before trailing upward to rest lightly on your cheek. Her touch was warm, grounding, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. “I don’t want you to.”
Your smirk faltered, fading into something less assured, but you shrugged again, forcing the grin back onto your face. “Too bad,” you said, your voice low but steady. “You’re stuck with me. And as long as I’m around, no one—and I mean no one—touches you.”
Lena shook her head, exhaling a quiet laugh, but her eyes shone with something she couldn’t quite hide. “You’re impossible.”
“I know I am,” you quipped, a flicker of your usual cockiness returning. Before she could protest, you leaned in and pressed a quick, fleeting kiss to her forehead. Her breath hitched at the contact, but you were already pulling back, grinning as if it had been nothing. “Now, go make those calls and clean up my mess, will you? I’ve got a date with the minibar.”
You turned to leave, but her hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist and stopping you in your tracks. The warmth of her touch sent an involuntary shiver through you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.
“I’m serious,” Lena said, her voice quieter now but no less firm. When you turned to face her, the look in her eyes hit you harder than her words ever could. “I’m worried that one day, this is going to catch up to you.”
You opened your mouth to brush it off, to toss out some witty retort that would ease the weight of her concern. But the way she looked at you—so raw, so unguarded—made the words die in your throat. Instead, you stepped closer, gently pulling her hand until the space between you disappeared. Her breath caught as your eyes locked onto hers, the intensity in your gaze pinning her in place.
“That’s true…” you murmured, your voice dropping into something softer. “But as long as it’s for you, I can handle anything.”
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you leaned in, your lips brushing just shy of hers. Her breath mingled with yours, shallow and unsteady, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to still. Her eyes flickered down to your lips, her grip on your wrist tightening as though she was afraid you’d pull away.
And maybe you were.
You could feel the pull, the magnetic heat drawing you closer, but just as the gap began to close, you stopped. A flicker of hesitation crossed your face, and you leaned back slightly, smirking to mask the vulnerability that threatened to break through.
“Maybe someday… princess,” you teased, your voice light but your heart pounding against your ribs.
Lena’s breath hitched, her eyes narrowing in frustration. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. You didn’t give her the chance to respond, slipping free of her grip with practiced ease and stepping toward the minibar.
“Now, I’m parched,” you said over your shoulder, pouring yourself a drink as though nothing had happened. “Want anything?”
Lena rolled her eyes, though the flush on her cheeks betrayed her composure. “You’re such a tease,” she muttered, shaking her head as she turned for the door. “We’ll talk later. Try not to get into more trouble while I clean up your mess.”
You chuckled, lifting your glass in a mock toast. “No promises.”
But as the door clicked shut behind her, your smirk faded. You stared at the amber liquid in your glass, your reflection distorted by the ripples. The image was easier to confront than the memory of her touch or the look in her eyes.
You’d been so close. Close enough to feel the warmth of her breath, the softness of her gaze. And yet, something had stopped you.
The bass thrummed through the club, a steady pulse that reverberated in your chest. Multicolored lights danced across the crowd in flashes, illuminating faces briefly before plunging them back into shadow. It wasn’t your usual kind of night, loud and chaotic with bodies pressed too close for comfort, but Lena had asked you to come.
Truthfully, though, tonight didn’t feel like much of a chore. You leaned against the bar, a drink in hand, your eyes never leaving her. Lena moved effortlessly in the middle of the dance floor, laughing with her friends, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she swayed to the music. She looked freer than you’d seen her in weeks—no meetings, no responsibilities, no tension in her brow.
She was radiant.
Your chest tightened as her laughter reached you, carried faintly over the music. She didn’t notice the way she seemed to draw every eye in the room, but you did. And as much as it made something possessive flicker inside you, you didn’t move.
Her gaze found yours across the room, lingering for a moment longer. There it was again—that silent invitation she’d been sending you all night. It was in the way her eyes softened just slightly when they met yours, the way her lips curved into the barest hint of a smile, teasing and knowing.
You downed the last of your drink and pushed off the bar, slipping through the crowd with practiced ease. Her friends were still laughing, immersed in their own world, but Lena saw you coming. Her eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and amusement as you reached her, catching her hand as she spun lightly on the beat.
“Took you long enough,” she teased, her voice almost swallowed by the pounding music.
You smirked, pulling her closer as the crowd around you seemed to blur into insignificance. “I had to get drunk enough to be willing to jump into the piranha pool”
“now you’re calling me a piranha?”
“The prettiest of piranhas” You teased with a grin.
Lena rolled her eyes, but the glimmer in them betrayed her amusement. Her body moved naturally with yours, her hands settling lightly on your shoulders as you swayed together. The heat between you was immediate, electric. Your hands rested on her hips, your touch light, teasing—never holding her as firmly as you knew she wanted.
“You look like you’re having fun,” you murmured, your lips brushing close to her ear as you leaned in so she could hear you better. The low, steady rhythm of your voice seemed to cut through the music, drawing her full attention.
She smiled, her breath hitching slightly at the proximity. “I am.”
The honesty in her tone hit you harder than you expected. You leaned back just enough to look at her, your eyes tracing the curve of her lips, the flush of her cheeks under the flashing lights.
“How do you do it?” you asked, your voice quieter now, meant only for her.
Her brows knit slightly in confusion. “Do what?”
“Keep yourself from losing control,” you murmured, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear as you spoke. “Because, honestly? I’m not sure how much longer I can.”
The words hung between you, a lot different than the teasing banter you usually volleyed her way. Lena froze for the briefest second, her breath catching as she processed what you’d just said. When her gaze met yours, it was searching, uncertain.
“Is that so?” she finally whispered, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.
You smirked, leaning closer until your lips just barely ghosted over her ear. “You have no idea what you do to me, Lena.”
Her eyes darkened, her lips parting slightly as though she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. She was used to your games, your relentless teasing, but this was different. This wasn’t a game anymore, and you could see the conflict in her expression—she wanted to figure out if you were toying with her…or if you were serious.
The music shifted, slowing to something softer, and without thinking, you pulled her fully against you. Her body pressed to yours perfectly, fitting in a way that sent a rush of heat through you. Your hands slid from her hips to the small of her back, your grip more secure now. She didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands moved up to the nape of your neck.
The crowd faded entirely, the world narrowing to just the two of you swaying together in the dim light. Every movement, every breath…every heartbeat. You could feel her heartbeat where her chest brushed yours, fast and uneven, matching the rhythm of your own.
“Careful,” she said softly, her voice barely audible above the music. “you’re playing with fire” Her words were a warning, but her tone betrayed her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted you to stop.
You grinned, your lips brushing close to her ear again. “Good thing I like getting burned.”
Her grip on your neck tightened slightly, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.
She was close enough to kiss, and you were sure she could feel the way your heart raced, but you held back. Not because you didn’t want to, but because the anticipation was intoxicating. Maybe you were playing with fire…but you could play this game all night if you had to.
The soft hum of the engine faded as you parked outside the Luthor family house. The night had been quiet since you’d left the club, but it was a deceptive kind of quiet—charged, heavy. Maybe it was the way Lena’s eyes had lingered on you while you drove, or the way your pulse quickened every time her hand brushed yours, even accidentally.
You glanced at her with a teasing smirk, trying to break the tension in your chest. “Guess I’ll have to start a tab for all the times I’ve saved your ass. That creep was getting a little too… close. When do you think you’ll ever pay me back?”
Lena rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Please. The number of messes I clean up for you? I’m pretty sure you owe me.”
You chuckled softly, But as Lena reached for the door handle, something caught your attention. A figure was leaning casually against her front door, illuminated by the faint glow of the porch light. Tall, handsome, and all too familiar. It was one of Lena’s exes.
Your smirk vanished instantly. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel. “What the hell is he doing here?” you muttered under your breath.
Lena looked over to where you were glaring at her hand hovering near the door before she turned back to you. “He’s just a friend now,” she said carefully. “We dated years ago.”
“Yeah, sure. Just a friend,” you said, your voice lower than you intended. “Is this why you wanted to leave the club? To come running over to him?”
Lena’s eyes widened, shock flickering across her face before it was replaced by something softer—something almost amused. “What? No! Why would you even think that?”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as jealousy curled tightly in your stomach. “Because he’s standing at your door like he’s waiting to be invited in for a damn coffee!” The words came out harsher than you’d intended but it was just too much after how close you two had been getting that night.
Lena blinked, and then, to your utter frustration, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Coffee, huh?” she asked, her tone light, teasing even.
“You know what I mean,” you huffed, glaring back at the figure by the door. “What the hell does he even want? To catch up? Reminisce about your good old days? Or does he think he can just waltz back into your life like nothing happened?”
Lena’s expression softened, her frustration tempered with something you couldn’t quite place. “He just wanted to talk,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost soothing. “Nothing more. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” you shot back, the heat in your tone undeniable. “Because it sure looks like he’s waiting for more than just a friendly chat. You could’ve told me he was going to be here, Lena.”
Her lips parted slightly, her surprise genuine this time. “I didn’t know he’d be here already,” she said, and you could tell she was being honest. “He texted earlier and said he wanted to stop by. That’s all.”
“Yeah, right,” you muttered, shaking your head. “And you just happened to forget to mention it.”
Lena sighed, leaning back in her seat and studying you with that maddening calmness she always seemed to carry. But there was a glint of something else in her eyes now—something warmer, softer. “Are you… jealous?” she asked, the faintest hint of a smile creeping back into her voice.
You scoffed again, though the way your face heated betrayed you. “I’m not jealous,” you said quickly, too quickly. “I just don’t trust him.”
Her smile grew, her amusement impossible to hide now. “Really?” she asked, her tone light, teasing. “Because it kind of seems like you are.”
You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I’m just saying, I don’t like him showing up here unannounced, acting all casual like he has a right to your time.”
“And why does that bother you?” Lena pressed gently, tilting her head as she studied you.
You didn’t answer right away, your jaw tightening as you glanced back at the man on the porch. The sight of him standing there made your chest ache in a way you weren’t ready to unpack. Finally, you turned back to her, your voice quieter but no less intense. “Because you’re mine, Lena. Whether he knows it or not.”
Lena’s eyes narrowed, the frustration burning bright as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know what? You don’t get to act possessive when you’ve never even made a move,” she said, her voice sharp and trembling with pent-up emotion. “I’ve been waiting—waiting for you to do something, to stop playing this game, but you never did. And now you’re pissed because someone else is here?”
“So, what, this is my fault now? Because I didn’t—”
“Because you didn’t take a chance!” she cut in, her voice louder now, frustration boiling over. “You sit there, acting like you don’t care, like nothing fazes you, but every time I think there’s something—something real—you pull back. Every. Single. Time.” Her green eyes bore into yours, the intensity of her anger only amplified by the hurt you could see simmering beneath it. “And now you’re upset because someone else is showing interest? Do you even hear yourself?”
You clenched your jaw, your fists tightening at your sides as the weight of her words sank in. She was right—damn it, she was right. You’d spent so much time pretending, keeping things light, that you never stopped to think about how it might be affecting her. And seeing her ex tonight, standing there like he had a right to be part of her life again, made it all crystal clear: you couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. To him. To anyone.
“I thought I was protecting you,” you said quietly, the anger in your voice giving way to something more raw, more vulnerable. “I didn’t want to mess things up between us. I didn’t want to risk ruining what we had. But seeing him here…” You paused, taking a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Lena’s expression softened, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she studied your face. Her lips parted as if to speak, but all she managed was a quiet breath of your name,It was enough to pull you forward.
You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as it cupped her cheek. Her skin was warm against your palm, grounding you as your thumb brushed over the faint curve of her cheekbone. “I don’t want to play it safe anymore,” you murmured, your voice steady but soft. “I don’t want to pretend like I don’t care. Because I do. A hell of a lot more than I’ve let on.”
For a moment, Lena simply stared at you, her eyes wide, her breath catching in her throat. Then, without a word, she closed the distance between you, her hands reaching up to grasp the sides of your jacket as she pulled you down into a kiss.
It was tentative at first, almost cautious. But the hesitation melted away quickly, replaced by something deeper, something fierce. The kiss deepened as your heart raced while you tilted your head, your free hand moving to her waist, pulling her closer. All the teasing, the games, the back-and-forth—it all fell away, leaving nothing but this moment, raw and real.
When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested together, both of you catching your breath. Lena’s hands lingered on your jacket, her grip still firm, like she was afraid to let go.
“So,” you said, your voice breathless but tinged with your usual humor, “does this mean I don’t have to worry about your ex anymore?”
Lena let out a soft laugh, the sound light and full of something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time. “No,” she whispered, her thumb brushing against your jawline as she looked into your eyes. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else. It’s just you. It’s always been you.”
you leaned in to kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the softness of her lips, the way she pressed into you like she couldn’t get close enough.
When you pulled back, you reached for her hand, lacing your fingers through hers. “Good,” you murmured, smirking playfully. “Because I’m not sharing.”
Lena shook her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips, but the look in her eyes was warm and knowing. She gave your hand a gentle squeeze before nodding toward the house. “Why don’t you come in for some coffee?”