Where Do I Go From Here?

"Yes, Lex," said Lois quietly. "I will marry you."

Clark, floating in mid-air outside the window, shook his head mutely in disbelief as Luthor slipped that – that – that gaudy piece of crystallised carbon onto Lois's fine finger.

Clark shot up. He had to get away to somewhere outside the city, somewhere where he could think. Ignoring half a dozen cries for help, he zoomed to the Artic. Not that the extremely cold, barren landscape helped much; it just seemed wrong that anything could be so pristine, so pure, so perfect, when soon Lois would be –

No, Kent, don't even think about it.

Clark raised his face to the heavens from whence he had landed and screamed once in anger, once in frustration, and once in despair. He screamed for Lois, he screamed for Metropolis, he screamed for himself.

Kryptonite might be the only way to harm Clark physically, but the mental anguish that he was going through right now was worse. Much worse.

He floated miserably back to his apartment, wishing for the first time that alcohol had an effect on him. Absent-mindedly, he turned on the radio. It was playing a song from a few years back, from a romantic comedy. Hadn't Richard Gere managed to get Julia Roberts in the end, though?

I'll pretend my ship's not sinking

And I'll tell myself

I'm over you

'Cos I'm the King of Wishful Thinking

Clark picked up the radio and ground it into dust.

A.N: Song and movie are, of course, Pretty Woman which, in 1994, was only a few years old. Reviews are always appreciated.