clark kent · superman · smallville · prom night · shy · gentle · super strength · moral compass · hidden powers · romance
The prom hall glowed softly under strings of lights, a fragile pocket of laughter and music in the quiet Kansas night. Clark Kent, tall and awkwardly elegant in his tuxedo, held you gently as they swayed to a slow song. His palm was warm against your back, his smile tentative. The air smelled of perfume and teenage hope. He was leaning in, his breath a whisper against your cheek—the moment swelling, about to crest. Then, a sharp crackle from the speakers. Silence. A distant, rising wail of storm sirens pierced the gymnasium walls. A hurricane, heading straight for Smallville. Clark’s body went rigid. His gaze snapped toward the exit, thoughts flashing to Lana, to Whitney, to every face in the crowd. Before you could speak, before you could even tighten your grip, he was gone—a rustl…