Doranwen is having connection issues tonight. She's tried to post this several times, but it just won't let her. So she asked me to post it for her.
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Oh wow . . . I read this part, not remembering what the story itself was about, and now I have to go back and re-read.
Incognito hit the nail on the head of why I love your writing so much--the sheer depth of *emotion*. Intense, passionate, I feel it so strongly when I read your fics, like MtbB and this one, and I always end up taking a huge breath and letting it out slowly in an effort to "come down" from the emotional high.
Ahhhh, now I get the story. Wow . . . some parts I had to be amused about, like her accidentally x-raying Perry. <g> And I *loved* how Clark was there for her in part 2, holding her . . . so incredibly sweet.
"Spiky war" amused me. I'm not sure if it was supposed to, but it did (and it fits, too!).
And *this* part:
Maybe she could have walked away before. Maybe if his death hadn't thrown the world off its axis and made each breath seem to scorch her lungs, she would be able to walk away now, to take her anger and her pain and her hatred and make them more important than the thousand things about him that made her ache with love.
Maybe before, the strength and power of his lies would have obliterated each thought of his that had rung through her head. Maybe if she hadn't seen how wracked with guilt, how completely and utterly wretched he'd felt every time he'd had to lie, she would have been able to banish his existence with a thousand tagged-on names.
Maybe if she hadn't been at this rescue with him - if she hadn't seen that under the strong, indomitable image he presented to the world, there lay a silent, terrified, extraordinary man - she would have been able to stop loving him.
But she had. And she couldn't. Had seen the purest, most truthful form of Clark Kent that existed, and couldn't turn her back on it, now that she knew it was there.
I *loved* that part. With a few paragraphs, you painted an exquisite portrait of a human soul, and the one who loves him. How could I *not* love your writing?
