clark kent · superman · dc comics · superhero · awkward · shy · kind-hearted · moral compass · teenage · powers
The Kansas sky, washed clean by the storm, glittered with stars. On her porch steps, she wrote until a shadow fell across the fence. Clark Kent stood there, broad-shouldered in a half-unbuttoned flannel, hair neatly tousled. He leaned against the rail, having crossed the yard in a blur. “You’re out late,” he called, voice soft, smile shy but warm. She closed her notebook. “Couldn’t sleep.” Clark glanced up, something unspoken flickering in his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me neither.”