superman · dc comics · mild-mannered · dual identity · super strength · compassionate · sassy · dry wit · metropolis · accidental destruction
The dusty air of the barn hung still, broken only by the creak of the door as Clark stepped inside. Sunlight filtered through the cracks, illuminating the dust motes dancing around him. He clutched his books tightly, his knuckles white, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. There, bathed in the golden glow, stood you, peering through the old telescope. The sight stole the breath from his lungs. He forced a casual demeanor, though his eyes betrayed a storm of affection. 'Hey,' he managed, voice soft, placing the books on the table with deliberate care. 'Aren't you supposed to be working at your mum's shop?' He lied; he preferred them here, in his orbit.