Foreword: Please don’t hurt me; I cooked this up in 30mins or less! I didn’t ask for a beta because it’s quite short and I was itching to post it ASAP…so apologies for the repetitions and/or spelling or grammar mistakes in this venture...my spell chejker is on the blik
I was itching to write something one evening and a good friend of mine unknowingly planted an evil little idea in my head while we were talking…see what you think...little if any editing so don’t judge by what you see
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There is Some One money can’t buy…
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I’m heading home, despondent and weary. My flight is taking longer than usual for some reason, giving me time to reflect on the happenings of the day. If I were walking, I’d say I were shuffling along, but you can’t exactly do that when you’re 200 feet in the air…
Today, I remember bitterly, saw the end of another one of my fruitless attempts to impress her. I rang her up when I was sure she would be home from work and invited her to the latest play in the Metropolitan Theatre, trying desperately to sound nonchalant and casual, to keep the impression of a date out of the equation.
It didn’t work.
She explained somewhat breezily that she needed to do a few odd jobs around the place, that she was terribly sorry but she just couldn’t ignore them, and that she would call to re-schedule soon. Maybe we could grab a bite to eat tomorrow. Bye.
It infuriates me to think of her doing menial tasks on her own – doesn’t she know that all she has to do is say the word and I could have her whole apartment cleaned in no time at all?
But she will not let me in – into her life, her mind, her soul, and yet she offers herself blatantly to Superman. When I see her fawning over him, trying to please him and fulfill his every whim, it sickens me deeply. She couldn’t be more obvious if she lay down on a silver platter in front of him with a sign saying, “Take me, I’m yours!”
She is infatuated with a man that she barely knows – and yet seems immune to the charms of the ordinary mortal right in front of her eyes.
Ordinary mortal? Did I just think that? I laugh at myself, amazed. I have never been an ordinary mortal in my life. It’s all a façade – this exterior of a normal person, a normal man, is a sham, a cover to protect what hides beneath from the outer world, a world which is too rough, too uncivilized to accept it.
Maybe someday the world will be ready - maybe someday *she’ll* be ready, to accept me wholly for who I am.
I know that I am being naïve – she will never be able to do that, to acknowledge what I am, *who* I am, fully. Without disgust.
This is why I do all of this – put up a normal, acceptable external image – to have some semblance of a ‘normal’ life, without fearing that I will be forever persecuted and locked up by the rest of mankind.
But even somebody like me is capable of love – deep, everlasting love, that holds on and never, *ever*, lets you go. Day after day I pine for her, long for her, until my very soul (if I have one, being what I am,) cries out in protest that it is not united with hers.
I am in love with Lois Lane.
I frighten myself sometimes with the depth of my obsession – other times I disgust myself. Nobody, least of all me, could have imagined how pathetic I have become…
I know that I could have any woman I wanted – their endless attentions when I am out in public has shown me that. Why is it, so, that I am cursed with loving the one woman who does not seem to return my ardor?
We are ‘good friends’ – she has stated that she enjoys my company on more than one occasion – but this is not enough, will never be enough for me. I want - *need* more.
She moons over the so-called Man of Steel, and yet cannot seem to respond to the attentions of another. I have hinted – I have almost come right out and *said* - that I seek for something more than friendship – but each time I insinuate this, she changes the subject quickly, artfully, and I lose confidence.
She is not interested in my ordinary side – maybe if I showed her the other part of my personality, my life, she would become easier to persuade?
For the first time in my life, I am truly afraid – just like any other man. She leaves me vulnerable and weak – I cannot bear to think that I might lose her by doing something pigheaded and/or stupid…I laugh at myself sometimes. The most powerful man in Metropolis and I’m *shy*?
But it’s true. I am deathly afraid that should I ever reveal my other side, she will recoil in horror and I will lose her.
I have never felt this way about any other woman. It is thrilling. It is exciting. It is terrifying. It is dangerous. It is love.
Lois, how long will you keep me waiting?
No. No more. Tomorrow, I’ll do my best to sweep her off her feet. I’ll fly her to Italy – maybe to Florence – I have heard that it is beautiful at this time of year. And then I’ll make my move.
Maybe –just maybe – it’ll work.
I have to try.
Lois…
“Nigel,” I order, “As soon as we touch down, place an order in to Mazik Jewelers for the biggest engagement ring in the store. I don’t care how expensive it is – only the best, understand?”
“Yes Mr. Luthor, sir,” he replies courteously. “We will be landing in about ten minutes.”
“Fine,” I reply carelessly, and he retreats, leaving me in peace. It’s so handy having a loyal manservant or two around the place...
“You will be mine, Lois...” I whisper quietly, sitting back in my leather seat and taking a sip of my wine.
Priceless.
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Until BaTP...
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Thanks to the MasterCard commercial for the title
and special thanks to Kaethel, who was the friend who unwittingly planted this evil little idea in my head by telling me that Florence was beautiful at this time of year...
