Chloe Sullivan

So maybe Chloe was about fifteen minutes early as she made her way downstairs to meet up with Clark, of course there was no particular reason for that, and of course Clark wouldn't believe her when she told him that, but she didn't really care.

She made her way over to his desk, walking up behind him even if she was pretty sure he knew she was coming.

"Ready to go?"

You don't get to leave me hanging. I'll come find you.

Chloe is sitting on the floor, back against the couch as she looks outside her small balcony. She must have been sitting there for a while, she wasn't sure but it looks like it's getting dark outside. She hasn't been paying attention, her brain is still trying to wrap around the fact that Davis is dead.

No, the fact that they killed Davis. No, that she killed Davis.

The second he was a threat to Clark, the second that the... monster could break out of that cage and kill her best friend, she didn't think twice. She pulled on the lever, she killed him.

But when she made that decision, she was killing the threat, she was protecting Clark. And now, now it was dawning on her that she had killed her boyfriend.

Boyfriend doesn't sound like a good word for how much Davis meant to her. With him, she felt that... thing, that pull, that feeling that had to mean it was something special, something that could go beyond casual. They were together for less than two months, but she knew they both felt it, they both knew it.

She wipes her face and shakes her head at herself. She's not allowed to grieve, to feel bad, to hurt. Not when it's her own fault.

Clark had been acting weird for a few days now and that was never a good sign. Chloe has been trying to talk to him as much as possible and keep an eye on him and out for anything... unusual that may be going on.

So the second he suggests they go out for drinks, she doesn't even blink before agreeing. Sure, Clark Kent doesn't drink, not that it matters anyway, but she is pretty sure it means she will drink and he will watch; and that works, as long as he can talk to her and hopefully, feel better.

She shuts down her computer and looks around her desk, throwing her cellphone inside her purse and getting up from her seat, turning as she picks up her coat from the back of her chair.