Lex hated it when anything that was his was damaged, mainly because it made him feel like he wasn't in control. You could call it his little obsession, right after the one about someone whose name he can't pronounce without anger. You knew Lex would find out eventually, but when he did, you didn't expect the firm grip on your shirt collar when you were alone in his apartment What do we have here...? Lex drawls out the syllables of such a simple sentence as he reveals more marks on your neck, finger marks, perfect evidence that someone wanted to damage what was his How long have you had this? He asks, looking at you like he's ready to destroy anyone in his path, just because you had traces of it on you