Oh, Clark.
![[Linked Image]](http://cosgan.de/images/midi/konfus/a050.gif)
I wasn't expecting him to throw the contest by writing such stereotypical greeting card sentiment. I'm so glad that Lois called him on it. It isn't fair to her, if he let her win.
I kind of hoped he would submit the one (accidentally) that he wrote about loving his best friend.
I'm almost sorry that Lois never got to read it, because it was so beautiful.
Disappointment engulfed him as he began to type.
He wasn't particularly aggrieved at having lost the competition. In fact, he'd accepted defeat as the only possible outcome as he'd penned his devoid-of-thought ditty that didn't even warrant inclusion in the most banal of cards.
I have to agree with him here. If he wanted the dinner so much, he should have tried harder. If I were Lois, I would be slightly offended.
If she were honest, she'd known that everyone would assume she'd written it for Superman. She'd shamelessly used that knowledge as her cover.
But she hadn't expected that her blatant affection for the superhero would hurt Clark.
I'm glad she's thinking about this.
He moved into her kitchen and filled the kettle with water.
"Do you think Perry's greeting-card idea will work?" Lois asked as Clark dug out a teapot from where he'd stashed it the last time they'd shared tea together. "Will we sell many cards? Make some money to help pay for respite care?"
"We have to try something," Clark said. "Those families need help."
"What if we're all terrible at writing poetry? Some of what has been bandied around the newsroom is woeful."
Clark nodded his agreement. "But it's not all bad," he said. "Your poem is good enough for a card."
Lois expected him to continue, saying something more specific about her poem or its intended recipient, but he didn't. He took down the caddy of tea and spooned the leaves into the pot. "I'm sure you could write something, too."
Wait a minute. Lois invites him into HER apartment for some tea, and then MAKES him make it? Oh, Lois, that's just plain rude. That would be like inviting someone to dinner and then expecting them to cook for you. I mean, I could see if he asked to stay and have a cup of tea to have him make it himself, but *she* asked him to stay and *offered* him tea. She should make it. That's just wrong. And she says that she loves him. Ha! Actions speak louder than words, Lois.
"Guess I just can't put words together as well as you can."
Liar!
"That's not true. You write the sentimental stuff far better than I do."
Again, happy that Lois called him on it.
"Not this time." He looked up from the teapot with a grin. "You won. Fair and square."
"Your poem read as if you'd jotted it down while waiting for the elevator, five minutes before we were due to face off," she said.
His look of laboured innocence confirmed her suspicion.
Lois has every right to feel slighted.
Clark didn't think his hand had shaken as he'd accepted the envelope from Lois, but his heart has been thundering hot liquid cannons through his veins.
I like this imagery.
It was a photograph - Lois at her desk, her chair pushed back, one shapely leg crossed over the other, her head tilted a little, her chin up, her mouth curved to a smile. She looked as if she were in the grip of laughter.
She was laughing with him, Clark. He was standing at her desk, focussed on her, as they shared a moment of amusement.
Focussed on her …
Clark's breath stalled. He had tried so hard to keep his feelings safely hidden behind the mask of friendship, but in this photo, they were laid bare, obvious from his eyes, his mouth, his posture … every single thing about him portrayed his affection, fascination … adoration, even … for the woman who held his attention.
Had Lois seen it? In this photo? Or in him? His actions? His face? How long ago had she seen this photo? Why had she chosen this particular picture? To give him? Now? In a card?
I'm guessing she thought the same thing about her posture.
His world contracted … collapsed … reeled … as all the implications of Lois Knowing rioted through his mind. "Wh…what do you mean?"
It's funny that he jumps there first in his mind, and not what she actually means.
"Your drive and your passion inspire me … Your heart beats so daring and bold … Your fire warms the depths of my lonely soul, When sorrow has scraped it cold."
When he raised his head, a tear was skittering down her cheek. He rammed his hand into his pocket to keep from leaning over and brushing it away.
"You see?" she said in a wobbly voice. "You push back the walls to find me. No one else does that. Not even Superman."
Clark re-visited her poem again, pulling it from his memory line by line. Her hero. Protecting her. Understanding her. Hearing her. "You wrote that for me?" he asked. "Clark? That's how you see me?"
His poem only works to clarify her own, but I still like his unrequited love poem from Part 1 better.
He was going to disappoint her, and that knowledge felt like the twist of a knife through his heart. "I try to be honest," he said. "And I try to be true to myself. But …" He swallowed, fortifying his wavering conviction. "But I have two secrets that no one knows … except my parents. I'd … I'd like to share them with you."
Two?
"I have to know that you will still want to kiss me after you know my second secret."
Oh. THAT secret.
Clark shook his head a little. "The real poetry from my heart is short and doesn't rhyme and isn't original at all," he said. "But it is the truth."
"Oh?"
He took a breath, and he spoke the words that were branded on his heart. "I love you, Lois."
Awwww. Nicely said, Clark. Although, since this is his first secret, which he's already told her, shouldn't this come before his second revelation?
I was a bit surprised by the Superman reveal. I liked the simplicity of it, but it almost seemed unnecessary in a story about them discovering their shared love. Plus, Lois accepts it too easily, that it feels a bit of a non-issue that has given him so much stress. Maybe if Clark had been intending to tell Lois when he came over, because of how her poem to Superman had made him feel... I don't know. I'm a bit confused on why he feels it's necessary to tell her his secret now. It's almost as if he wants to lose her, wants to risk everything before they go further, wants to prove to himself that she really doesn't love him. I don't know how to explain it. I liked the story, but something feels off or missing from this ending.
