The leafy residential streets of Metropolis evoked no memories at all for Clark. Although, as he reflected wryly, their chance of impacting him would have been greater if he'd been able to wrest his eyes from Lois for more than a few seconds at a time.
He was intoxicated with her.
He wanted to touch her. If that wasn't possible, he wanted to watch her.
In some ways, he felt as if he had lost everything - but it was his shared history with Lois that he mourned most deeply.
Perhaps those memories had vanished forever.
They had the chance to make more memories now, and Clark felt a burning compulsion to ensure that nothing mar their time together.
Lois hadn't actually said that she loved him.
But then, he hadn't actually said that he loved her.
He did.
Beneath the bubble and fizz of feelings that were exhilarating in their newness, he was conscious of the steadfast and enduring resonance of lifelong love. Love that was independent of his memories.
His mind had forgotten. His heart had not.
Thanks!
Corrina.
