Kryptonite

Chloe had chuckled as Clark had replied to her ‘bad taste’ comment with a smirk and remark of his own. Her eyes followed his, falling on the bald billionaire, standing in a circle of conversation, pretending to be listening just like she had been. She couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him these days. After all, he had lost his child first time round, and wife and child for good at the second try, and still he donated money to charities and opened the Metropolis children’s hospital, which was what the ball was celebrating.

But she was brought sharply from her trail of thought, as always, by a gentle touch of Clark’s palm to her cheek. She smiled at him warmly, the subtle dimples in her cheeks showing as she did so. Why did he have such power over her, even after half a decade apart? It wasn’t fair sometimes how, she thought with a mental wry smile, he was her Kryptonite. Her only weakness.

She frowned as he got to his feet, but put her hand in his as she gracefully got to her feet, shrugging her shawl about her shoulders again, the amethyst chandelier-style earrings in her ears swinging back and forth. She pouted. “But you owe me a dance Mr. From about 10 years ago. And look who’s here?” she said in a slightly smug voice, gesturing with her thumb over to where Lifehouse stood on the stage.