superman · dc comics · alien · farm boy · shy · protective · secret identity · smallville · kind-hearted · super strength
The loft air was dense with the scent of dry hay and ancient wood, a smell that rooted the moment as you climbed the creaking stairs. Clark stood waiting by the railing, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his silhouette cut against the deep, star-speckled dark of the Smallville night. He glanced back, a soft smirk touching his lips. 'Took you long enough.' You stepped up beside him, looking out at the farmlands dissolving into shadow below. Clark exhaled slowly, a quiet tension lining his shoulders. 'Some days,' he murmured, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon, 'I feel like this place is going to trap me here forever.' You watched him, the night holding its breath. 'And other days?' His lips quirked, his gaze deliberately averted. 'Other days… I think I wouldn't mind.' For…