Hi!
The tears are flowing! Poor Clark is trying to tell Lois he is Superman and she just keeps being so nasty. And then, just when I want to slap Lois, you have her do something so nice. What a sweet part having Lois return the pocketknife to Clark that he got from his father.
The following parts are some of my favorites:
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But if she knew who he was—Clark Kent, idiot farm boy extraordinaire—she’d probably push him away. She would be embarrassed, humiliated . . . she would look at him with such disgust.
She was already so mad at him . . .
She was going to be so hurt.
He needed her, but was it right for him to force himself on her by burdening her with his secret?
She already carried so much. She was just as much this city’s heroine as he was its hero, she just lacked the superpowers and the bright outfit.
But he wasn’t a human. He was an alien. He was different.
Even if—when he told her, what could he expect in their relationship? How much could he allow?
How could he expect Lois to get in a relation with him—with either Superman or Clark Kent? He didn’t even know if they could have kids.
And Lois deserved the best. A normal life, with a husband that could put all of his concern towards her. A husband she wouldn’t have to share with the world.
A husband that wasn’t an alien. A husband she didn’t have to worry about being caught and dissected like a frog.
They were still looking for him.
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Clark, quit thinking about others for once! Do something for yourself. Clark needs to have his self-esteem lifted up and Lois sure isn't helping matters.
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Clark took a deep breath. “A wreck,” he said, trying for a lighter tone and giving her a wry grin.
Lois chuckled. “But be grateful for this, at least—we’re not nearly as bad as Clark.”
The moment shattered, and Clark fumbled with his smile clumsily before it he dropped it right onto the ground and lost it. “C-Clark?” he repeated with a blink.
“Yeah,” Lois said, sounding a bit frustrated despite her somewhat amused tone. “He’s has turned into a bumbling mess. I mean, he wasn’t too bad before…still a hick from Smallville, but at least he had some potential—he just needed to be taken to the blacksmith and hammered a few times with some major heat, and he might have come through all right. I mean, his writing isn’t half bad, and he used to not be too bad on the street either, I guess. But now…I think any heat would make the guy shatter. And he’s driving me crazy!”
Clark winced, his heart sinking. He felt a bit sick. “R-really?”
“Yeah,” Lois said, leaning forward and resting her cheek against his chest as she let herself babble of her troubles to someone she could trust. She had locked everything up for so long, and she needed to talk to someone that could understand. Melinda was nice, but she just couldn’t understand. Besides, Kal-El knew Clark, so he could relate. Clark Kent had run off on him too. “I mean, he ran off on me today. He just left, without a word. And yesterday, while we were looking around for some…stuff for an article, something scared him and he grabbed me like a kid grabs a teddy bear, and he wouldn’t let go. He froze up like a first-grader on stage of a school play, and he wouldn’t snap out of it. And then he can’t even say two words together without tripping over his tongue. He’s hopeless. ”
Clark looked away from her. Shamed, guilt, and hurt showered down on him like frozen rain. The combination was not a stab to the heart, but more like someone was taking a small knife and peeling just an edge of his heart’s surface and tugging on it—tearing it away slowly, layer by layer. In some ways it felt even worse than a direct stab.
Was he really so pitiful? He was trying to not give himself away around Lois, but he certainly wasn’t trying[.I] to act the part of a complete klutz. He was actually trying to get back to normal, a bit, though apparently it wasn’t working. His heart sunk further.
[I]What if Lois was right? he thought, dismayed. He had been trying to control his fear and his stuttering, but Clark Kent really was himself—a terrified, stuttering, completely unprotected and helpless version of his confused being.
Even with all of his control, it was taking almost his whole concentration to keep himself from breaking down into a quivering mass of stuttering apologies.
I-I’m s-sorry . . .
“I d-don’t think you should judge him, L-Lois,” Clark said very carefully, and still his voice shook.
Lois looked away, a faint stain coloring her cheeks. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said, looking embarrassed and a bit ashamed at his soft words. “It just gets so frustrating, you know?”
“Y-yeah,” Clark said softly, looking away from her. “I…I know.”
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I agree, very frustrating Clark can't seem to tell Lois he is Superman!!! The tears begin.
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And now he had not excuse not to tell her but for that sick, tired feeling and the black tar that had wrapped itself so firmly around his heart.
And for the first time in some days, Clark realized that he did not want to tell Lois his secret right now.
How ironic, he thought. He had been trying for two days now, running around and trying to get a word in edgewise. Now that he had her full attention, though, he didn’t feel like telling her.
He felt sick. He needed sunlight. And the world was calling for him.
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How much more can Clark take??? Not to mention us poor readers!
Keep up the excellent writing! You always amaze me each time I read a new chapter!!
Thanks for making my day once again!
