November 3rd, 2015 Tuesday. 6:35pm.
• • •
The aroma of spaghetti greeted me as I rounded the corner into my kitchen. Clark stirred the bubbly liquid and glanced over his shoulder at me.
"You didn't want garlic bread, right?"
"No," I answered plopping down on the couch.
"Good, I didn't buy any,"
"You didn't have to make me dinner or buy dinner last night. I know how to cook," I teased him from my seat as I flipped through channels.
The switches were quick and I was growing impatient with how many channels I had already went through. There seemed to be nothing good on today. The news was still blasting Superman and the media was gearing up for the hearing coverage that they hoped would happen soon. I had hoped that with me being thrown into the limelight it would take some of the attention off him, but it hadn't.
Somehow, it had intensified, and they were now questioning how I felt about being with one of the most controversial men on the planet.
Clark's lips against my shoulder caused my worrying to stop, and I placed a hand in his curls, my fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. His strong arms wrapped around my upper body and his lips kissed slowly along my clavicle.
"If you keep this up, the dinner will get cold, and it'll all be a waste," I spoke smiling into his forearm.
"But your fingers feel so good," He murmured.
"Nope, let's eat," He let's me pull myself away from him.
• • •
November 4th, Wednesday. 2:03am.
• • •
To judge someone on wether they do enough good rather than praise them for the good they've done is something I could never understand. My emails have been flooded with inquiries to do talk shows from CNN to the TODAY show to Ellen. They all want to get to know "the woman who has managed to love the man with a heart of steel" and a small part of me, who likes the attention, has written out yes responses to each and every email. They're always deleted and my inbox will be clear for just an hour or so until a hundred more flood in.
The workload for the assignment Perry had given me was a lot more than I had assumed and after reading dozens of articles of first encounters with The Bat, I was wide awake. Supposed to be looking for recent photos of the masked vigilante on my laptop, while I hoped the sleepy time tea I had drunk twenty minutes ago would take effect, didn't exactly go as planned with late-night repeats of earlier shows as background noise.
As I sit here deleting emails and searching for recent photos in the living room, the voice on TV catches my attention. It's not the fact that Vikram Gandhi is speaking that makes me look up, it's what he's saying.
Sitting on a late talk show Vikram Gahndi is answering the question, as best as he can, and I lean forward forgetting my influx of emails momentarily. In bold letters, a phrase that is more significant than any other text on the screen: The Superman Question.
"We, as a population on this planet, have been looking for a savior. 90% of people believe in a higher power, and every religion believes in some sort of messianic figure. And when this savior character actually comes to Earth, we want to make him abide by our rules? We have to understand that this is a paradigm shift. We have to start thinking beyond politics."
"We have always created icons in our own image. What we've done is we project ourselves onto him. The fact is, maybe he's not some sort of devil or Jesus character. Maybe he's just a guy trying to do the right thing."
I shake my head and change the channel only for it to find yet another talk show asking the same questions.
Andrew Sullivan, the best selling author, speaks up next. His voice isn't carrying the same sincerity as Vikram had and I wrinkle my nose at the screen.
"Are there any moral constraints on this person? We have international law. On this Earth, every act is a political act."
The bold text beneath his name expresses that Supermans actions are political. A new email alert catches my attention as I try to type in the channel number for SYFY.
"Lex Luthor sent me an email?" I read the heading momentarily shocked but the voice of the Kentucky Senator June Finch, the one calling for the trial makes me tear my eyes away. I had missed the entire question from the host so as I listened to her response, and I tried to piece together what he had asked her.
"Uh, to have an individual engaging in these state-level interventions should give us all pause."
Her bright white suit jacket was a stark contrast to the black backdrop of the PBS show.
"Are you, as a United States senator, personally comfortable saying to a grieving parent, "Superman could have saved your child, but on principle, we did not want him to act"?"
I stared at the screen. My breath caught in my throat as the camera panned to her. That question was the one that needed to be answered. And I knew that Clark would not handle it well if Congress decided he should have rules and international limitations.
"I'm not saying he shouldn't act. I'm saying he shouldn't act unilaterally."
"What the fuck does that even mean, June!?" I holler at the tv.
The host seemed not to like her answer; you could tell by his frown and the shake of his head, "What are we talking about here, then? Must there be a Superman?"
"There is."
"What the fuck," I roll my eyes and quickly and correctly punch in the numbers for the SYFY channel happy I had gotten it right when The Craft appears on my tv screen.
Outside, the rain reminds me of how late it is or early since my mind immediately renders that I had checked the weather app earlier today, and a storm was due late into the evening or early morning.
Sighing, I shut my laptop, turned off my lights and went to my room. On my nightstand, my phone lit up with an incoming call, and I quickly answered when I saw Clark's name pop up.
"What are you doing up so late?" I asked him.
"I was going to ask you the same thing," I could hear the clank of dishes on his end.
"You called me, Clark. Are you doing the dishes at," Slow flashing red numbers displayed the time on my alarm clock, "2:15 in the morning?"
"I can't have an urge to put my dishes away at 2 in the morning?" His voice was light but there was a heaviness to his words, and I knew something was bothering him.
"Did you watch the interviews? I told you it's not going to make you feel better,"
"I had to know what they're saying about me, Annie,"
"Clark, I know you think it's good to know everyone's opinion, but it shouldn't matter what they think. They weren't there in that village, they didn't hold Lois at gunpoint, and they didn't kill those people and neither did you. I know that this is hard for you, but you can't let this takeover your life,"
I hear a sharp intake of breath,"This is my life, Annie,"
I've made him even more upset,"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make you choose one or the other or tell you how to feel, but I think you need to not obsess over this. There are thousands of people who don't like what you do, who believe that you're too powerful and now believe you're unpredictable, but I know you and you know that you would never do anything to harm the people you're here to protect. And this entire circus whirlwind of a media storm will die down. It did after the battle and it will again,"
There was silence on the other end,"What does your mom think?"
"In fewer words, just that," He chuckles and I smile imagining his smile brightening his face.
"I like her already. Great minds think alike, you know. Clark, I just really want you, I can handle the alien sized baggage who runs around with an S on his chest all day, but I can't and won't let you beat yourself up over something that you haven't even done wrong,"
"I don't really run, I'm more of a flying guy,"
"Shut up, Clark!" I giggle,"Don't be sassy. Seriously, just try to get out of your head especially in the next few days. We have a very important dinner date this weekend and I don't want you to have a permanent scowl on your face when you meet my mother, she's going to think you're an angry man,"
"Who says she won't find it sexy?"
"Oh, please don't, she already does find you sexy! Remember the email I showed you about our blind date? I'm sure if she were years younger she'd try to steal you from me,"
I cozied up into my fluffed pillows, my face smooshed as I smiled into my phone at the thought of my mom and Clark finally meeting.
"No one will steal me from you, Annie. I've liked you far too long to be whisked away," He spoke with such confidence and knowing that I wondered just how far this relationship would go or is already going.
"Oh? And pray tell, Mr. Kent, just how long have you been watching me from over your cubicle wall? Don't even act like I didn't notice,"
"The truth or the answer that doesn't make me sound creepy?"
"Definitely the truth,"
"I first began to notice you because of your laugh. I was having a pretty down day, it was right after the incident and right when all the questions began to come up. I was so in my head that I began to work by muscle memory, everyday became like that. This lasted until about three days after you were hired.
I don't know what made you laugh so loudly with no care in the world, but it caught my attention. I remember watching you throw your head back, your hair fall over your shoulder and your face turn red. Your laugh isn't the sweetest thing either. It's more of a cackle that gets louder the more amusing you find something. So, I started to wonder what makes you laugh and soon I began to notice little quirks.
You repeat everything you find funny and giggle immediately after like repeating it helps you keep the memory of the seconds before when it was new. You find the corniest things and most mundane things amusing. You even laughed at the way Perry said canoodling at a meeting." His laugh makes my smile broaden more.
"That's what you first noticed about me? Was my ugly laugh? Not my pretty face or my impeccable fashion sense?" I asked, a bit lost for words.
"I always knew you were beautiful, but I finally saw it as something more than a word used to describe an outer appearance. That word is you in every way. Everything you do is beautiful. Your handwriting that has to be all capital letters, your other weird quirks like the way you double knot any tie, be it a shoe lace or bow, even how you arch your left eyebrow up all the time, you probably don't even know you're doing it, but I do.
I think I may have some thick rose colored glasses on because you're never not beautiful and I haven't found anything yet that would even make me see you differently. And I'm glad I decided to sit down at your table that day, even though you weren't expecting me to. I also know that you like to deflect with humor or sarcasm when you're slightly uncomfortable with your feelings, so I'm going to say goodnight,"
"Clark-,"
"Goodnight, Annie. I'll see you at work, love."
The dial tone filled the silence and I stared at my phone for a few seconds. My face hurt from how hard I was smiling and my body was hot. My heart beat heavily against my chest and butterflies were flitting around in my stomach.
Rolling onto my back, I pressed my hands to my face and let out a gleeful shriek. Falling for Clark was happening a lot sooner than I had imagined. As my brain began to voice that this was all too fast especially considering the short period of time of actually being an item, and not the length of our relationship, my heart on the other hand, kept screaming. It was screaming that we've been friends for a little over a year and that I've always liked him. My heart was justifying the hot, tingly feeling all over my body.
I might not know exactly what my feelings were towards Clark, but I do know he was making me feel in ways that I haven't in a very long time and that was exciting and slightly terrifying.
• • •
Don't forget to vote and leave a comment! I love reading them! ❤️