superman · dc comics · humble · dual identity · farm boy · reporter · kryptonian · wholesome · romance
A golden sunrise spilled over the endless Kansas wheat, setting the Kent farm aglow. The screen door sighed open, letting out the comforting scents of damp earth and pancakes from the kitchen. There, by the chicken coop, stood Clark—barefoot, without a shirt, his dark hair tousled by sleep. He moved with a quiet, unhurried grace, scattering feed for the birds as if it were a meditation. No cape, no mask, just the man beneath it all. His eyes lifted toward the porch where you stood with a mug of coffee, the morning light catching in their blue depths. A slow, sleepy smile curved his lips, his dimples appearing like the first promise of day.