The Perfect Girl
Disclaimers: I do not profit in any way from my obsession with Smallville.
Ratings Note: NC-17
Summary: She isn't the perfect girl. For The Cure Song Title Challenge.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to jacynrebekah, pun and nerodi for helping me choose an ending. Thanks to velvetglove and jacynrebekah for beta.
Feedback: Yes! Please!
The perfect girl wouldn't stare at herself in the mirror and whisper, "You're such a strange girl. You're such a fuck up. You're such a freak."
She wouldn't trace the path of veins in her arms and wonder what it would be like to run a small razor over the skin and peel it back.
She wouldn't let something as petty as vanity stop her from doing just that. She wouldn't stare down demons every morning and then smile happily while she served coffee.
She wouldn't think that she was meant to die young. She wouldn't feel so alone. She wouldn't think that everyone on earth was going to abandon her.
The perfect girl wouldn't have those kinds of thoughts, those kinds of fears. The perfect girl would be truly happy and not just faking it.
The perfect girl was not the girl in the mirror.
The perfect girl wouldn't lie to her best friend, her sister.
She wouldn't say, "I'm not interested in Clark as more than a friend." She wouldn't smile and do her friend's laundry to make up for the guilt living in her stomach.
She wouldn't use her friend or take advantage of her generosity. She wouldn't stay in a house where she was just biding her time to get free.
She wouldn't purposely make her friend cry. She wouldn't use her friend's emotions as a weapon. She wouldn't toy with her friend's attraction to the one boy they both want.
The perfect girl wouldn't have to feel guilty. The perfect girl wouldn't work strategically to make her so-called sister less appealing to Clark.
The perfect girl would never have motives so black.
The perfect girl wouldn't manipulate the boy who has a crush on her just to hear him say, "I want to be with you."
She wouldn't deliberately make eye contact, lick her lips, smile and drop her eyes. She wouldn't flirt and laugh and give him hope when she knows she'll never love him.
She wouldn't board her horse at his farm just to see him excited to give her something. Just to know that he wanted her, that he wanted to be close to her and would do almost anything to have her near.
She wouldn't go to him to cry. She wouldn't lean against his strong body and let him hold her. Not when she knew that he'd never be more to her than a safety net.
The perfect girl wouldn't use a boy just because she could. The perfect girl wouldn't need reassurance of her worth.
The perfect girl wasn't someone who would deliberately hurt Clark.
The perfect girl wouldn't want to have sex with a married man, wouldn't thrill at the idea of hearing him whisper, "I think I'm falling in love with you."
She wouldn't crave it even when she knows it would always be a lie. Even when she doesn't want him to fall in love with her. Even when she knows he knows she doesn't need the lie to spread her legs for him.
She wouldn't imagine herself bent over a table at the Talon, her skirt flipped up over her hips and Lex slamming into her. She wouldn't want to wriggle to feel him deep, to make him grasp her hips harder, to feel his wedding band dig into her skin.
She wouldn't feel a need to strike out, to hurt just because she can. She wouldn't bring herself off imagining Clark Kent seeing her with his best friend buried deep inside.
The perfect girl wouldn't want what belonged to others. The perfect girl wouldn't need to take what wasn't hers.
The perfect girl wouldn't want Lex's come running down her thighs.
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