Again, I'm glad to have revisited this story. You have such a way with words and expressing raw emotions that my original story doesn't. Your sequel makes my story better... so feel free to sequel any of my stories.
He engages in inane banter, trying to replicate whatever conversation he guesses takes place at a salon. I laugh and play along because it passes the time and distracts me from the oddly pleasurable tingle I feel every time his fingertips rub against my scalp. He studiously follows the directions he found on the internet, painting the dye methodically from root to tip. He radiates confidence and I know he’ll fix this because Clark can do anything and, admittedly, he’s doing a much more patiently thorough job than I did.
I love this description of them being silly. It shows their friendship so well.
I survey the remains of the meal. “Where are the fortune cookies?”
“Well, they don’t actually have them in China. They were invented in San Francisco.” Clark stops short and there’s an odd flash of fear on his face, but I can’t understand what’s so frightening about random trivia. Then he quickly adds, “I guess they just forgot to throw them in the bag.” And it’s a reasonable explanation but sounds curiously like a lie.
No wonder Clark often sounds like an encyclopedia, informing people of cultural traits and historical snippets. He's covering up for the fact that he's just flown across the world to bring you dinner.
![[Linked Image]](http://cosgan.de/images/midi/konfus/a050.gif)
It's so obvious now!
I love that Lois senses that something isn't right, but she can't lay a finger on what it is. Brilliant!
The timer on my microwave goes off, startling both of us. Clark gets up, takes my hand, and helps me up, too.
The ding of the microwave timer saves Clark from Lois's inquisitiveness. Yeah, Microwave!
I agree with Mike. I love the reference to Clark being a 'goer and comer'. It so aptly describes him.
And I should be content with that answer, because comers and goers stay and then leave, but Clark is a goer and comer, so he’ll leave but then stay. But I don’t want the past or the future, the going and the coming. I want the present. I want his presence. Because he told me he loves me and I told him I love him and it happened tonight on my bed and I want to hold onto those words and that emotion and his body and if he walks out the door I’m terrified that he’ll take that love away with him like every other man has.
We, the readers, all feel what Lois wants here. Instant gratification. Give us the hot sex scene now! But Clark is right. It's better that it wait and have it come in time. It's better to have the promise of love forever than one hot night now.
Then he suddenly glances away from me, as if he’s looking for something beyond my bedroom walls, but shakes his head like he’s talking to himself. “It’s been a long day,” he finally says. “Why don’t you get ready for bed? I’ll turn off the lights.” His hand caresses my cheek before he lets go and walks out to the living room.
This is one of favorite paragraphs, because it has Clark choosing Lois over leaving. He knows that leaving now will hurt her and he chooses rescuing her from that potential hurt over perhaps helping someone else who has already been hurt. (Or, at least, this is how I picture it.) To Lois it is a throwaway line, yet the rest of us see and feel its importance. Clark knows that there will be many a night in the future when he won't be able to stay, so he chooses that tonight he will, so she will have this night to think back upon on those nights when the other's rescue will have to take precedence.
I feel his fingers curl my hair behind my ear. I listen, because there’s a pause to his breath and it seems like he wants to say something. But the moment passes, and instead I hear the clink of his glasses being placed on my bedside table. A blissful sense of security blankets me as Clark wraps my comforter over us and curls his right hand around my waist.
For all of you who wish to yell at Clark here for not telling Lois the truth, I admit to tying groobie's hands here. So, yell at me.
I told her that enough had been confessed that night and that I didn't want a Super revelation on top of all those other raw emotions. Sometimes it is in the finding one's path blocked that one's creativity to discover an exit that one truly comes alive.
groobie, you did a wonderful job with the limitations I gave you.
You express Clark's emotions and feelings so clearly, despite the story being from Lois's POV. I can't wait to read what you'll delight us with next.
