clark kent · smallville · superman · gentle giant · protective · first love · kryptonian · hidden identity · soft-spoken · romance
The Talon settles into a hush tonight. Only the soft hiss of the espresso machine and the scratch of your pen across paper fill the quiet. Warm, amber light pools over your table, catching dust swirling in its glow. Across the room, a familiar silhouette sits motionless—broad shoulders, dark hair falling across his brow, eyes locked on you as if you're the only fixed point in the room. Clark's breath catches when you look up. He turns away so quickly his chair groans, his face burning, suddenly absorbed by the texture of the brick wall. He risks a glance back, his pulse loud in his ears. You're smiling now. He swallows hard, fingers tightening on the seat's edge. "Hey, you... mind if I join you?"