Fic: Cymbal Rush
Title: Cymbal Rush
Category: Smallville
Word Count: 569
Date of Completion: 19 April 2010
Primary Characters: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: PG
Setting: 9x14 "Persuasion"
Summary: Reflections on Clark Kent.
Cymbal Rush
Lois wondered if anybody else had ever noticed these details about Clark before: the slant of his eyelash's shadow against his skin, the particular way his lip curved when he was sad, when he was thinking. In dreams, sometimes Lois saw him broken and bloody - but still smiling, still triumphant. In dreams, he marched past the oak tree into a dark and violent world with his banner streaming out behind him like a gash in the landscape and Lois never knew if he was coming back. But he was a trumpet blast in a dead forest; he was a soft whisper along a breaking wave. He was Clark Kent.
It was easier, somehow, to deal with those unrealistic nightmares than it was to deal with the day-to-day reality of having fallen in love with Clark, of having fallen in love with someone who always made sure her coffee was warm, who always had a pack of frozen peas ready for her bruised skin. He liked the way newsprint felt between his fingers and the smell of warm milk; he hated bullies and he couldn't lie his way out of a speeding ticket and Lois was in love with him. It was day-in, day-out, and Lois loved him. Lois loved him when he split infinitives; Lois loved him when he brought her maple doughnuts; Lois loved him when he slowly rubbed his eyelid with his index finger and said "I just don't understand why it needs to be like this." Lois loved him, and it was the worst thing in the world that she did it afresh every day - and she didn't want to stop, and that was worst of all.
Then, even worse, came the day that Clark Kent, in all his wide-eyed openness, had confessed that he wanted to stay with her "always and forever". Lois had never considered that anybody might ask that of her - let alone someone like Clark (and privately Lois wondered if Clark knew her at all to think he might want that). What if he opened the box of her heart and blew out the dust and realised there was nothing gleaming in there after all? - what if he realised that she was not whoever he thought she was? - that she was weak and selfish, that she had no idea what she was doing or who she was from moment to moment? How could someone like Clark, who weathered the wind of the world's imperfections like an ancient statue, ever want to be with an emotionally-stunted High School drop-out like Lois?
But he did, and it was the very worst thing, because there was nothing more that Lois wanted either. But Lois felt nothing more acutely than the idea that Clark 'should' be with someone else: someone graceful, someone full of strength and not just of bravado, someone understanding, someone who could admit her insecurities - and she knew that she could never, ever let him go, because she loved him more than she had ever imagined herself capable of. All those years that Lois had felt herself hollowed-out, that Lois had thought she was incapable of really loving anybody - and then Clark gently, gently prised her open. No, she loved him; she loved him, and if he really wanted her then she could never argue with that.
- - -
Clark wondered if Lois realised just how important she was.
He thought not.
Category: Smallville
Word Count: 569
Date of Completion: 19 April 2010
Primary Characters: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: PG
Setting: 9x14 "Persuasion"
Summary: Reflections on Clark Kent.
Cymbal Rush
Lois wondered if anybody else had ever noticed these details about Clark before: the slant of his eyelash's shadow against his skin, the particular way his lip curved when he was sad, when he was thinking. In dreams, sometimes Lois saw him broken and bloody - but still smiling, still triumphant. In dreams, he marched past the oak tree into a dark and violent world with his banner streaming out behind him like a gash in the landscape and Lois never knew if he was coming back. But he was a trumpet blast in a dead forest; he was a soft whisper along a breaking wave. He was Clark Kent.
It was easier, somehow, to deal with those unrealistic nightmares than it was to deal with the day-to-day reality of having fallen in love with Clark, of having fallen in love with someone who always made sure her coffee was warm, who always had a pack of frozen peas ready for her bruised skin. He liked the way newsprint felt between his fingers and the smell of warm milk; he hated bullies and he couldn't lie his way out of a speeding ticket and Lois was in love with him. It was day-in, day-out, and Lois loved him. Lois loved him when he split infinitives; Lois loved him when he brought her maple doughnuts; Lois loved him when he slowly rubbed his eyelid with his index finger and said "I just don't understand why it needs to be like this." Lois loved him, and it was the worst thing in the world that she did it afresh every day - and she didn't want to stop, and that was worst of all.
Then, even worse, came the day that Clark Kent, in all his wide-eyed openness, had confessed that he wanted to stay with her "always and forever". Lois had never considered that anybody might ask that of her - let alone someone like Clark (and privately Lois wondered if Clark knew her at all to think he might want that). What if he opened the box of her heart and blew out the dust and realised there was nothing gleaming in there after all? - what if he realised that she was not whoever he thought she was? - that she was weak and selfish, that she had no idea what she was doing or who she was from moment to moment? How could someone like Clark, who weathered the wind of the world's imperfections like an ancient statue, ever want to be with an emotionally-stunted High School drop-out like Lois?
But he did, and it was the very worst thing, because there was nothing more that Lois wanted either. But Lois felt nothing more acutely than the idea that Clark 'should' be with someone else: someone graceful, someone full of strength and not just of bravado, someone understanding, someone who could admit her insecurities - and she knew that she could never, ever let him go, because she loved him more than she had ever imagined herself capable of. All those years that Lois had felt herself hollowed-out, that Lois had thought she was incapable of really loving anybody - and then Clark gently, gently prised her open. No, she loved him; she loved him, and if he really wanted her then she could never argue with that.
- - -
Clark wondered if Lois realised just how important she was.
He thought not.