I've read it slowly and carefully more than a few times now. And I'm still just speechless. Absolutely clueless as to how to comment on this.
I waited because I wanted to say something smart here...in this spot right here...see? But I've got nothing besides pure, jaw-dropping awe for how beautiful this is, poetic, tender, fragile.
She had no idea why she let her hand drop. Why she turned her back on it instead and walked away. Why she left it there, glowing on the window. Perhaps, later, she'd examine that inexplicable choice. But not now.
In my mind Superman returns to fix the window and sees his valentine. But he doesn't rush back to her directly and say "guess what I saw?!" because it's just enough for him to know.
Like Lois already partly knows. Just as Clark does when he's upstairs watching her from the window. That space between knowing it and saying it. Captured so perfectly by your words, like the image on the window.
Man, Lab. Man, man, man...you just
kill me with Your Absolute Awesomeness. I want you to go away and write something else immediately. I'm not kidding. None of this waiting a year between fics!
CC
