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LuthorCorp Charity Gala
Champagne flutes catching the light, chandeliers glittering overhead, and music humming softly through the crowd. Lena Luthor stood near one of the tall arched windows, dressed in an emerald green gown that complimented her poise and brilliance. She was attempting to enjoy the evening, though her patience had thinned considerably when that annoying man was trying to have her attention. It wasn't subtle, mostly too much.
“You know, Lena,” the man said again, leaning in far too close, his breath tinged with scotch, “you and I could make a killing together. My firm has the capital, and LuthorCorp has the innovation. We’d be unstoppable.”
“I said no, Mr. Fenwick,” Lena replied, for the fourth—possibly fifth—time, her voice cold and firm. “I’m not interested. Professionally or otherwise.”
Fenwick chuckled, ignoring the glare Lena shot him. “You don’t have to play hard to get, darling. We both know you’d do better with someone who understands your world. Besides, don’t tell me there’s someone else?” Lena didn't want to make a scandal but she didn't care anymore, she will crush in pieces the ego of that man.
Before Lena could deliver a scathing retort, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
“Actually, she’s with me.”
Kara Danvers, hair elegantly pinned, wearing a simple but stunning navy dress, stepped into view. Her tone was calm but unmistakably firm. She placed a protective hand on Lena’s waist and offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Fenwick blinked, and then laughed. “You? No offense, Miss…?”
“Danvers,” Kara said smoothly. “Kara Danvers. Lena’s girlfriend.”
Fenwick looked between the two women, scoffing. “Right. Sure. And I’m Superman.”
Kara didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned in—and watched Lena whispering trust me and Lena said always and Kara kissed her.
Lena’s eyes widened as Kara’s lips met hers, soft, warm, and surprisingly…right. It should have been awkward. It should’ve been a lie. But instead of pulling away, she leaned into Kara, deepening the kiss, her hand rising instinctively to rest on Kara’s cheek. It was perfect and amazing, more than she ever imagined or did but couldn't allow to feel it.
When they finally parted, they couldn't stop watching each other.
Fenwick stood slack-jawed. “That’s—”
“She said she’s not interested,” Kara said coldly, stepping slightly in front of Lena. When Fenwick made an indignant move, reaching as though to grab Lena’s arm, Kara’s hand darted out. She gripped his wrist in a steel-like hold and shoved him back with a strength that shouldn’t have been possible.
He stumbled, shocked. “What the hell—?”
“I suggest you leave,” Kara said, her tone low and dangerous. “Now.”
Fenwick, realizing this was a battle he wouldn’t win, huffed and retreated, muttering under his breath some curses about Lena being a lesbian and bad taste. Lena was ready to kill him but her focus was on Kara.
Silence settled between the two women for a moment. Kara turned to Lena, her eyes full of guilt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. The kiss. That was...wrong. People will talk. They’ll think we’re together. I didn’t think—”
“Kara,” Lena said softly, her fingers still tingling from the kiss. “I… I liked it.”
Kara froze. Her breath hitched, her mouth slightly open. “You… what?”
“I liked kissing you,” Lena said, feeling the weight of her own words flying away. She searched Kara’s face, afraid she’d made a mistake to reveal herself so openly. “I know it was pretend, but it didn’t feel that way. At least, not to me.”
Kara’s face softened, wonder and confusion dancing in her eyes. “Lena, you’re… you’re beautiful. Intelligent. Strong. Perfect. Of course I—” She stopped mid-sentence, tilting her head slightly as if hearing something far away.
A beat passed.
“There’s danger in National City. I have to go,” she said, voice torn with conflict. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk. I promise.”
And just like that, she was gone, a blur of motion and wind.
Lena stood alone again, the echo of Kara’s lips still lingering on hers, the taste of the moment hauntingly sweet. She pressed a hand to her heart, frustration and longing mingling in her chest.
“Well,” she whispered to herself, “that complicates things.”
The music had picked up again, and the sound of clinking glasses, light laughter, and flowing conversation filled the opulent hall. The guests were mingling effortlessly, oblivious to the emotional storm brewing in Lena Luthor.
She stood near the edge of the crowd, her champagne untouched, her eyes distant.
Kara.
The kiss.
It kept playing in her mind like a broken record—how soft Kara’s lips were, the way her hand had settled gently yet firmly at Lena’s waist, the warmth that bloomed in her chest and stayed even after Kara had vanished.
You kissed your best friend.
Worse—you liked it.
No. Lena loved it. And that truth was a betrayal in itself, wasn’t it? A betrayal of the fragile balance they'd always walked. Friends. Best friends. Nothing more. Except now… now she couldn't go back.
"You look distracted," came a smooth voice beside her.
Lena blinked, startled. She turned to find a strikingly handsome man—early thirties, sharp jawline, tailored midnight suit that probably cost more than most cars. His smile was charming, confident. A business card already danced between his fingers.
“Apologies,” she said quickly, drawing up the Luthor mask. “Just thinking.”
“About me, I hope?” he said with a grin that clearly thought it was irresistible. “Brandon Tresswell. CEO of Chronos Securities. I’ve been waiting for a moment to introduce myself. Your keynote was… let’s just say I was hanging on every word.”
Lena forced a polite smile. “Appreciated.”
“So how about a drink?” he asked, stepping a little closer. “Something away from this crowd? Just us. I’ve got a thousand ideas we could talk through. Business. Or not.”
Lena hesitated. Normally, this is the kind of opportunity she’d entertain—if not for the professional potential, then at least to network. Brandon Tresswell was young, brilliant, wildly successful—and clearly interested.
But her mind refused to stay in the moment.
Kara.
Kara standing in front of her like a shield. Kara's lips brushing hers. Kara whispering an apology like it broke her heart to leave.
God, what if she regrets it? What if that kiss meant nothing to her?
Or worse… What if it meant everything and she’s afraid of it too?
“Miss Luthor?” Brandon prompted again.
Lena glanced down at her phone, more out of habit than interest—and immediately tensed.
The screen showed a live feed from a Watchtower alert—Kara, as Supergirl, locked in brutal combat with some enormous alien creature that looked like it had crawled straight out of a nightmare. Kara was flung across a building, crashing through concrete. Lena’s breath caught in her throat.
“I’m sorry,” she said sharply, already moving. “Something urgent just came up.”
Brandon blinked. “Wait, Lena—at least let me give you my—”
But she was already halfway out the door, heels clicking rapidly against marble, coat in hand before the valet could even offer it.
Lena stood in the shadows, pulling out her earpiece and connecting to the private frequency she rarely used anymore.
“Watchtower. This is Luthor. What’s Supergirl’s position?”
A familiar voice answered. “Downtown core. Near 7th and Alder. She’s engaging with a Class-Four alien. It’s not going great.”
Lena didn’t hesitate. She rushed to her car, fingers trembling as they punched coordinates into the dashboard.
She barely noticed the streetlights as they sped past her. Her thoughts were chaos.
Kara could be hurt.
Why did she kiss me?
Why did I kiss her back?
The words tumbled in her mind, questions with no answers. And yet, deep down, she knew one thing for sure: she didn’t want to be just friends anymore. The kiss had opened a door she couldn’t close.
She wanted more.
More late-night talks that turned into early-morning laughter.
More hand touches that lingered.
More truth.
She wanted Kara. And she wasn’t going to let fear steal that from her. Not this time.
And if Kara didn’t feel the same?
Lena would rather find out the truth than live the rest of her life wondering what if.
As she reached the edge of downtown, the skyline lit by the aftermath of battle, Lena gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
Hold on, Kara. I’m coming.
Downtown National City
The air trembled with the sound of destruction. Buildings stood like wounded giants, their glass facades shattered, smoke curling into the night sky. Sirens screamed in the distance, and a soft red glow bathed the streets in chaos.
Supergirl—Kara—was on her knees.
Across from her, the alien loomed, a towering brute of armor and sinew. Its skin shimmered with an unnatural hue, almost molten, and its eyes glowed a sickly yellow. Whatever planet it came from, it brought power with it—power that rivaled even hers.
Kara coughed, tasting blood.
Get up. Don’t stop. He is dangerous, he can hurt people.
She forced herself to her feet, staggering. Her suit was torn, her cape ripped nearly in half, and one arm hung at her side, bruised and likely fractured. But she refused to stay down.
The alien snarled and charged.
With the last of her strength, Kara launched herself into the air and collided with the creature mid-run. They both slammed into a wall, and Kara gritted her teeth as the impact sent pain screaming through her spine. Her fist connected with its jaw—once, twice—but it barely flinched.
Then its claws reached forward, fast as lightning, and stabbed straight into her side.
“Khh—!” Kara gasped, eyes wide, the pain sharp and horrifying. She crumpled, knees buckling as the alien tossed her aside like a rag doll.
She hit the pavement hard, vision spinning, the world a blur of color and sound.
Footsteps.
No. You can’t lose here. You promised—
Another stomp. Closer.
She blinked and forced herself to move, but it was like lifting weights in deep water. Her breathing came shallow, and the gash in her side leaked glowing red blood that sizzled on contact with the asphalt.
The alien towered over her now, raising a brutal clawed hand.
And then—
“HEY!”
A voice cut through the roar. Feminine. Angry.
Lena.
Kara’s head jerked weakly to the side, eyes widening. Why was she here? Kara tried to stand up, she can't allow Lena to be hurt. Never!
Lena Luthor, heels clicking on broken glass, stood just feet away, holding some kind of high-frequency device in her hand, pointed straight at the alien.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” Lena snapped. “Pick on someone who isn’t bleeding.”
The alien tilted its head, momentarily distracted.
Lena pressed the button.
The emitter in her hand released a piercing pulse—high-pitched and concentrated. The alien screamed, staggering backward, clawed hands rising to its head.
Kara seized the moment. Gritting her teeth against the agony, she flew up and rammed both feet into its chest with everything she had left. The alien tumbled backward into the side of a derailed bus and slumped, stunned but breathing.
Kara collapsed right after.
“KARA!” Lena cried, rushing to her, falling to her knees beside her in the rubble.
“I’m okay,” Kara rasped, clearly not okay.
“You’re not okay! You’re bleeding, you idiot!” Lena touched Kara’s face, brushing soot and blood from her cheek. “God, you shouldn’t have fought it alone.”
“I didn’t know… you’d be here,” Kara whispered, lips cracking into a faint smile.
“Of course I’m here.” Lena’s voice shook, her hand trembling where it hovered near Kara’s wound. “You kissed me and then flew off to get killed?! Do you even understand what that did to me?”
Kara’s smile faded slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“No. You don’t get to apologize right now. You need to survive.”
“I will,” Kara whispered. “I’m… tougher than I look and you know that ”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” Lena leaned in closer, voice cracking with emotion. “You scared me, Kara. I left the gala. I didn’t even think—I just saw you fighting and—god, I couldn’t lose you.”
“You didn’t.” Kara’s voice was faint. “You came for me as always.”
Lena swallowed hard. Her hands were pressing fabric against the wound now, trying to slow the bleeding.
“I came for you,” she whispered. “Because I need to know if that kiss meant something to you too. I need to know if I’m crazy for thinking… maybe we could be more than friends.”
Kara’s eyelids fluttered.
“You’re not crazy,” she murmured. “I’ve been wondering the same thing for a long time.”
Lena blinked rapidly, then laughed softly through her tears. “Then maybe don’t die before we get to talk about it.”
“I’ll try,” Kara whispered, eyes slipping closed.
“No. No, hey—stay with me. Kara, stay awake! Don't dare to leave me when we have a serious conversation!”
The alien behind them groaned, stirring.
Lena looked up with panic, but red and blue lights were already flooding the street. The DEO agents were finally arriving, weapons trained and ready. One rushed to Lena’s side.
“We’ve got her. Step back.”
Lena hesitated, not wanting to let go. “She needs help. Fast.”
“She’ll get it. We’ll stabilize her on-site.”
As they lifted Kara onto the stretcher, Kara’s fingers found Lena’s—weak, barely there, but unmistakable.
Lena didn’t let go. Not until they had to.
National City medical center
The sterile corridors of the DEO medical wing buzzed with quiet urgency—machines humming, monitors beeping, and agents whispering into earpieces. It smelled faintly of antiseptic and tension.
In the isolated med-bay, Kara lay motionless on a reinforced hospital bed.
Her skin was pale, far too pale for someone who carried the sun in her blood. Her breathing was shallow, mechanical, drawn through tubes threaded between cracked ribs. One side of her torso was bandaged heavily, blood still staining the gauze a dull red. Her arm was wrapped and pinned, and a scan glowed beside the bed showing fractures across her clavicle, several ribs, and most worryingly—a punctured lung that was only beginning to repair.
Kryptonian or not, some injuries were too much to bounce back from quickly.
Outside the room, Lena Luthor sat rigid in a chair, elbows on her knees, fingers laced tightly in front of her mouth. Her eyes didn’t leave Kara for a second.
Agent Vasquez walked up quietly, tablet in hand. “We stabilized her. She’s breathing on her own now, though slowly. Her healing’s been… compromised.”
“Why?” Lena asked, her voice raw.
“We think the alien’s claws were laced with a mineral that interferes with Kryptonian regeneration. She’s still healing, but it’s slowed by a factor of twenty. We’re administering solar radiation, but her body’s struggling to absorb it.”
“So you’re telling me she’s vulnerable?” Lena’s voice was low. Controlled fury hummed beneath it.
“She’s human-level for now,” Vasquez said. “Maybe worse.”
Lena gave a slow nod. Her fists clenched.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “That’ll be all.”
She stepped into the med-bay, the door hissing shut behind her.
The silence was deafening.
“Kara,” she whispered, walking slowly to the bedside. “You absolute, reckless idiot, I don't know what to do with you.”
Kara didn’t respond. Her eyelids fluttered slightly, but she was still heavily sedated. Lena sat in the chair beside her, reached for Kara’s hand, and cradled it gently.
“You should’ve called for backup. You should’ve waited. You shouldn’t have left me like that.”
Her voice cracked. If she hadn't follow Kara, what would happen? She could have lose her...
“I’ve been sitting here for hours thinking about all the things I never said. About how stupid it was to let fear stop me from saying them. Because I was scared of losing you.”
She paused, swallowing hard. Her other hand reached up to brush a strand of Kara’s tangled golden hair from her face.
“But now I realize… I was never afraid of losing our friendship.” Lena’s eyes shimmered. “I was afraid of losing you. The person. The light. The… god, Kara, I—”
She broke off, inhaled sharply.
“I don’t care if it ruins everything. I don’t care if it complicates the rest of my life. I just want you here. Alive. Breathing.”
The monitor beeped softly as Kara stirred, her brow twitching.
Lena blinked. “Kara?”
Kara’s eyes opened just slightly, heavy-lidded and glassy with pain.
“...Lena?”
“I’m here.” Lena leaned forward, her voice gentle, but urgent. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Kara’s lips moved slowly, dry and cracked. “You’re… mad?”
Lena laughed weakly. “Furious. And terrified. And in love with you. So, yes—an emotional wreck.”
Kara’s eyebrows lifted slightly, even in her haze. “Love…?”
Lena nodded. “I meant what I said. After the kiss. After everything. I’m done pretending we’re just friends. I want more, Kara.”
Silence settled between them. The only sound was the quiet rhythm of the machines, the fragile echo of breath between them.
Then, in a hoarse whisper, Kara spoke.
“I… was scared too.”
Lena leaned closer, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Of what?”
“Of ruining us. Of making things weird. But… after I kissed you…” Kara tried to smile, winced. “I wanted more too.”
Lena’s heart swelled, her hand tightening around Kara’s.
“You’re going to be okay,” she said, voice firm now. “And when you’re healed… we’re talking. No distractions. No flying off. Just you and me.”
Kara gave the faintest nod.
“You promise?” she rasped.
“I promise.”
Then, softly—she leaned in and pressed her forehead gently to Kara’s. “Just don’t scare me like that again. Or I swear I’ll build a Kryptonite leash.”
Kara managed a faint chuckle, even through the pain.
“I’d still break it,” she whispered.
Lena smiled through her tears. “I dare you to try.”
And as Kara drifted back into healing sleep, Lena stayed beside her, holding her hand, refusing to let go.
She wouldn’t let go of Kara Danvers again. Not ever.
DEO medical wing – few hours later
The med-bay was quieter now. The alarms had ceased, the lights dimmed to soft amber. Kara was sitting up against a mound of pillows, a blanket draped over her legs, a tray of untouched food by her side. Her wounds were healing, slowly but surely. Color had returned to her cheeks. Her breathing was more stable.
And Lena Luthor was still there.
Almost a day. She hadn’t left.
She’d taken her meetings virtually, snapped at a few DEO techs who had the audacity to suggest she “go home and rest,” and turned the tiny visitor’s chair into her personal headquarters.
Kara had protested.
Once.
Now she’d accepted it. Or more truthfully—she’d come to appreciate it. Because whenever she blinked awake, the first thing she saw was Lena’s face.
And that made everything hurt a little less.
Across the hall, Alex Danvers leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the entire scene unfold from the window.
“You know,” she said, voice dry, “I think Lena might be growing roots into that chair.”
J’onn looked up from the tablet he was reading. “She’s been here every hour since Kara was admitted.”
“I know,” Alex said, with a half-smile. “And she looks like she’s ready to strangle anyone who suggests Kara doesn’t need twenty-four-seven supervision.”
J’onn raised an eyebrow. “You disapprove?”
Alex shook her head. “No. I… just didn’t expect it to be Lena.”
Then, with a thoughtful pause, she added, “But maybe I should’ve.”
Inside the room, Kara shifted on the bed, wincing as her ribs gave a small protest.
“You okay?” Lena asked immediately, straightening from her chair.
“I’m fine,” Kara said, trying to wave her off with her good hand. “Just a little stiff.”
“You almost died,” Lena said pointedly, “so I don’t think you get to define ‘fine’ anymore.”
Kara sighed. “Lena, I’m healing. Kryptonian biology, remember? I’m not going to suddenly drop dead in the middle of a sentence.”
Lena narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really? Because few hours ago you flatlined for fourteen seconds before the solar injection stabilized your heart. You’re lucky I didn’t chain you to the bed.”
Kara blinked. “I… okay, that’s fair. But I’m better now.”
“That’s debatable.”
Kara gave her a crooked grin. “You’re hovering again.”
“Yes, well, you’re not invincible at the moment, so deal with it.”
Kara let out a soft laugh and leaned back. “You know, it’s kind of cute when you get all bossy.”
Lena flushed, brushing imaginary lint from her sleeve. “Don’t distract me with flattery. I’m serious, Kara. You don’t get to act like this was no big deal.”
Kara looked at her, quiet for a beat. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
Lena’s shoulders sank, and her voice softened. “I wasn’t just scared. I was—” she looked away, frustrated. “I was terrified. And I realized something. If I’d lost you, it wouldn’t have just been losing my best friend or my partner in world-saving.”
She turned back, eyes searching Kara’s. “It would’ve broken me.”
Kara reached out, gently brushing Lena’s fingers. “But you didn’t lose me.”
“I might have,” Lena whispered. “And it made everything crystal clear. I don’t care if people talk. I don’t care if we’re complicated. I don’t care if I mess up everything we’ve built. I just—” her voice cracked. “I just need you.”
Kara squeezed her hand. “You have me.”
The door slid open with a soft hiss, and Alex stepped inside.
“Well,” she said, arching a brow, “aren’t you two cozy.”
Lena didn’t even flinch. “She’s healing. Slowly.”
Kara glanced at her sister and grinned. “Lena’s been, uh… vigilant.”
“Vigilant?” Alex smirked. “She barked at one of the medics yesterday for changing your IV drip too fast.”
“He was being rough,” Lena muttered.
Kara shook her head with a smile. “It’s okay, Alex. I like having her here.”
Alex looked between them, then slowly nodded, something soft flickering in her eyes. “Good. Because I think maybe she’s not planning on leaving anytime soon.”
Lena spoke up, quiet but firm. “I’m not.”
Alex gave a half-grin. “Then I guess I’ll leave you two alone. But, Kara?”
“Yeah?”
Alex walked over and touched her sister’s shoulder, her voice suddenly tender. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
“I’ll try,” Kara said, sheepishly.
And when Alex left, the silence returned.
Lena leaned forward again, brushing hair from Kara’s eyes. “You really scared both of us.”
“I know,” Kara said, more serious now. “I hate that I did.”
Lena exhaled shakily, and for the first time in three days, her expression finally showed just how exhausted she was.
“I can’t lose you,” she said again, this time softer. “Not now. Not when I’ve just found out what you really mean to me.”
Kara’s smile was warm, if a little sleepy. “Then you won’t. I’m staying. For you.”
And Lena, overwhelmed but certain, just nodded—her hand wrapped tightly in Kara’s, unwilling to let go of the most important person in her world.
The moonlight spilled through the windows of Kara’s room. The hospital monitors had quieted, and the hum of the DEO activity had faded as the hour grew late. It was just the two of them now. Lena had pulled her chair closer again—closer than ever—and sat facing Kara, legs crossed, her hand still in Kara’s.
Kara had been staring at her for a while now. Not just a glance here and there, but that deep, thoughtful look Lena had only seen when Kara was planning something dangerous… or about to say something that would change everything.
“Kara,” Lena murmured. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you stare at me like I’m… I don’t know… a math equation you want to solve.”
Kara blinked slowly, a tiny smile forming. “I’m just trying to figure out how I got so lucky.”
Lena looked away, flustered. “You almost died, Kara.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But I didn’t. And maybe that’s the point. I lived. And now I don’t want to waste time wondering or holding back anymore.”
Lena’s breath caught. “Kara…”
Kara’s good arm lifted—slowly, carefully—and reached out. Her fingers brushed Lena’s cheek, soft and reverent, then settled gently, one hand cradling Lena’s face.
“Kara—what are you—?”
Kara’s voice dropped, sincere and unwavering. “I kissed you that night because I wanted to. Not just to scare off some creep. Not just to protect you. I kissed you because I’ve wanted to for a long time.”
Lena blinked, frozen, her heart hammering in her chest.
“And now,” Kara said, voice almost a whisper, “I want to kiss you again. Not to prove anything to anyone. Just for us.”
Lena stared at her, lips parting slightly. “You sure?”
Kara nodded, leaning closer.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
And then, without hesitation, Kara closed the space between them.
The kiss was slow—achingly so. Deliberate. No rush. No panic. Just the warmth of Kara’s lips against hers, soft and sincere, a sigh of relief more than anything else. Lena melted into it instantly, one hand coming up to hold Kara’s wrist where it still cradled her face.
Lena’s breath hitched, and the kiss deepened naturally, like the answer to a question they had both been afraid to ask.
When they finally parted, Lena kept her forehead pressed to Kara’s, eyes closed, lips tingling.
“God,” she whispered. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”
“Because we’re both idiots,” Kara whispered back, laughing softly.
Lena opened her eyes and met Kara’s, serious again. “You’re really sure this isn’t the morphine talking?”
Kara smiled. “I’m not on morphine anymore.”
“You would kiss me while recovering from broken ribs and a punctured lung,” Lena said, grinning through her tears. “Classic Supergirl.”
“Worth it,” Kara said, brushing a thumb across Lena’s cheek. “Totally worth it.”
Lena shook her head and laughed, then leaned in and kissed her again—shorter, but just as full of emotion.
“I’m in this, Kara,” she said as they broke apart. “No backing out. I don’t want to be your friend-who-worries-anyway. I want to be the woman who gets to kiss you after battle, patch you up, and yell at you when you do something reckless.”
Kara beamed. “So… my girlfriend?”
Lena smirked. “Was that you asking?”
“Maybe.”
Lena tilted her head. “Then you’ll need to try again. More formal. I expect good grammar.”
Kara chuckled, then cleared her throat dramatically. “Lena Luthor, would you do me the incredible honor of being my girlfriend?”
Lena leaned in, pressed a final kiss to the tip of her nose, and whispered, “Yes.”
Outside the med-bay window, Alex passed by again—then stopped, did a double take, and groaned.
She tapped her earpiece.
“J’onn? It happened. They're kissing. Officially. Get the betting pool sorted.”
Lena’s Penthouse
Lena’s penthouse, typically cold and minimalistic in its design, now held a different energy. Warmer. Softer. There was a half-finished bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, a throw blanket draped over the back of the couch, and two pairs of slippers kicked lazily off near the door.
Kara was curled up on the sofa, her legs tucked under her, her arm still wrapped from the hospital but moving more freely now. She was in a faded Metropolis University sweatshirt, clearly borrowed from Lena. Her smile was bright and relaxed.
Lena sat beside her, barefoot, hair down, in a rare moment of complete vulnerability. One leg curled under her, she was leaning into Kara, an arm draped around her shoulders. It wasn’t just affection—it was possession. A quiet but powerful “she’s mine.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lena asked again, fingertips grazing the healing bruises on Kara’s ribs through the fabric. Her voice was gentle, but the fear underneath it still hadn’t quite gone away.
Kara turned her head and kissed the inside of Lena’s wrist. “I promise, I’m okay. Still sore, but getting stronger every hour.”
Lena nodded but didn’t look convinced.
Kara shifted to face her more fully, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Lena’s ear. “You’ve been… quiet. Not that I don’t appreciate the calm Lena Luthor mode, but I can tell when your brain’s eating itself.”
Lena smiled faintly. “I’m just… not used to this.”
“To what?” Kara tilted her head.
“This,” Lena gestured vaguely around them. “You. Me. The way you look at me like I’m… everything. The way you hold me like I’m something precious. It’s… overwhelming.”
Kara frowned gently. “Do you want me to back off?”
“No,” Lena said quickly. “God, no. Don’t you dare.”
Kara grinned, relieved. “Okay. Then what is it?”
Lena hesitated, her gaze falling to their entwined hands. She traced a thumb over Kara’s knuckles.
“I’ve never had anything like this, Kara. Not real. Not soft. Not safe. People want things from me. Control. Power. Reputation. But you…” she exhaled slowly. “You just want me.”
“I do,” Kara said quietly. “That’s all I want.”
“And that terrifies me.”
Kara's smile faded, replaced with something tender and understanding. “Because you’re not used to being loved?”
Lena nodded, her voice soft. “Not like this. Not selflessly. Not... vulnerably. You love me in a way that makes me feel like if I lose you, I’ll never be whole again.”
Kara reached up, cupped Lena’s cheek with one hand. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“You don’t know that,” Lena whispered. Her voice cracked, and her eyes glistened. “That alien almost killed you. I saw your heart stop, Kara. I watched you die.”
Kara opened her mouth, but Lena kept going, her voice rising with emotion.
“And if you hadn’t come back, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I would’ve shattered. I would’ve burned the world down if it meant bringing you back. I mean that. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You’re my everything, Kara.”
Kara pulled her in closer, wrapping her arms around Lena tightly. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
Lena pressed her face into Kara’s neck, holding onto her like a lifeline. “Don’t ever ask me to go back to a life without you. I can’t. I won’t.”
“I won’t,” Kara said. “You’re stuck with me now. You think I’m going to let go after finally getting to love you out loud?”
Lena gave a tearful laugh. “You’re absurd.”
“I’m yours,” Kara corrected softly. “Loud and proud. In public, in private. I’m not ashamed to love you, Lena. I never will be.”
Lena pulled back slightly, eyes locking with Kara’s. “You’re not scared? Not even a little?”
“Of what?” Kara asked.
“What people will say. What it might mean for Supergirl. For the DEO. For your image. I mean, you’re dating a Luthor, Kara.”
Kara grinned. “Correction: I’m dating Lena Luthor. The smartest, strongest, kindest woman I’ve ever known. Anyone who has a problem with that? They’re not worth our time.”
Lena stared at her, lips parted, stunned by the sheer faith in Kara’s words.
“You believe in me more than anyone ever has.”
“I always have.”
Lena leaned in, kissed her softly. Then again. Then longer. When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against Kara’s.
“I think I’m falling harder for you every second.”
Kara smiled, eyes sparkling. “You’re not alone in that.”
They sat like that for a long moment—wrapped in each other, surrounded by city lights and quiet hope.
Eventually, Kara said, “So, just to be clear… if anyone hurts me again, you’ll scorch the earth?”
Lena smirked. “Without hesitation.”
Kara beamed. “God, I love you.”
Lena melted. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Lena.”
Lena’s heart thudded against her ribs, fragile and full. “I love you, too. So much.”
And for once in her life, Lena didn’t feel cursed or cold or cursed to be alone. She felt held. Chosen. Loved.
Because Kara Danvers had kissed her, and nothing would ever be the same again.