Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!
Even grief became her. Widow’s black contrasted well with her pale skin and pure white hair, and made jewels of her hazel eyes. Right now, though, those enthralling eyes were reddened by the tears she’d already wept and the ones she was holding back.
Perry wasn’t sure what to do. They were supposed to be having their usual semi-monthly meeting to discuss her daughter, whom he’d recently promoted to city beat reporter. Lois had moved out of her parents’ house when she was sixteen after yet another argument with her father, and Ella had found it difficult to get new of her since then. She’d asked Perry to look after her headstrong child, and to Perry’s surprise he’d grown quite fond of the girl.
Not that way - Lois was like a daughter to him. And saying that, was it any wonder he was carrying a torch for her mother? Ella Lane was beautiful, but beyond that, she had a grace and poise that turned the hardboiled editor into a quivering lump of tongue-tied admiration.
And now, barely two weeks after her husband’s funeral, here was Ella trying to keep her composure as Perry fumbled through an account of Lois’ recent successes. He fell silent afterward, unsure what to say or do. He knew she was grieving; no matter how many problems had soured the relationship between father and daughter, Ella had loved her husband deeply. Even Lois, for all she claimed to hate the man, had wept in Perry’s arms when she got the news of his death.
“I’m sorry, Peregrine,” Ella said, her voice starting to break. “It’s just … I’d hoped they would have a chance to reconcile. He was so proud when she landed that front-page article. He couldn’t tell her, and she wouldn’t have listened anyway, and now … it’ll never be.”
“And you miss him,” Perry said gently, taking her hand. Ella’s eyes flew up to his, their hazel depths laced with pain. She blinked, and a tear ran down her cheek.
Biting his lip, not knowing what to say, Perry reached out to stroke the tear away with a permanently ink-stained thumb. To his shock, Ella pressed her cheek into his hand. Her gaze met his, full of terrible loneliness.
The next thing Perry knew, he had her in his arms, her head cradled on his shoulder. He murmured against her hair, “You’re not alone, Elinore.”
Perry wasn’t sure what to do. They were supposed to be having their usual semi-monthly meeting to discuss her daughter, whom he’d recently promoted to city beat reporter. Lois had moved out of her parents’ house when she was sixteen after yet another argument with her father, and Ella had found it difficult to get new of her since then. She’d asked Perry to look after her headstrong child, and to Perry’s surprise he’d grown quite fond of the girl.
Not that way - Lois was like a daughter to him. And saying that, was it any wonder he was carrying a torch for her mother? Ella Lane was beautiful, but beyond that, she had a grace and poise that turned the hardboiled editor into a quivering lump of tongue-tied admiration.
And now, barely two weeks after her husband’s funeral, here was Ella trying to keep her composure as Perry fumbled through an account of Lois’ recent successes. He fell silent afterward, unsure what to say or do. He knew she was grieving; no matter how many problems had soured the relationship between father and daughter, Ella had loved her husband deeply. Even Lois, for all she claimed to hate the man, had wept in Perry’s arms when she got the news of his death.
“I’m sorry, Peregrine,” Ella said, her voice starting to break. “It’s just … I’d hoped they would have a chance to reconcile. He was so proud when she landed that front-page article. He couldn’t tell her, and she wouldn’t have listened anyway, and now … it’ll never be.”
“And you miss him,” Perry said gently, taking her hand. Ella’s eyes flew up to his, their hazel depths laced with pain. She blinked, and a tear ran down her cheek.
Biting his lip, not knowing what to say, Perry reached out to stroke the tear away with a permanently ink-stained thumb. To his shock, Ella pressed her cheek into his hand. Her gaze met his, full of terrible loneliness.
The next thing Perry knew, he had her in his arms, her head cradled on his shoulder. He murmured against her hair, “You’re not alone, Elinore.”