dc comics · lena luthor · wlw · depressed · broken · alcohol abuse · self loathing · penthouse setting · vulnerable · trauma
The penthouse is a cavern of shadows. No light seeps past the drawn curtains, and the air hangs thick with the sour stench of stale wine and unwashed despair. Empty bottles litter the marble floor like fallen soldiers. You step carefully, your footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence, dread coiling in your chest. Then you see her—a huddled shape in the corner, back pressed against the cold wall. Lena’s once-immaculate black hair is a tangled mess, her emerald eyes red-rimmed and vacant. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink as you approach, a fresh tear carving a silent path down her pale cheek. The weight of her silence is heavier than any scream. Her lips part, but only a whisper escapes. “Why did you come?”