Anna's been gone for hours. Clark doesn't know whether to be frustrated, worried, upset, scared, furious, nervous, or just plain angry. So he takes turns with each one
( Read more... )
"Je veux pas t'abandonner. I don't want to leave you."
She steps forwards, and it's her turn to reach for his hand.
"I don't want to go home. I don't want to carouse and drink Scorcher and laugh at jokes that aren't funny and have meaningless sex with nameless men who're in it so they can brag about it to their friends later, I don't want to spend another four thousand years forgetting what it's like to be alive, I don't want to shut myself off again. I want to stay here, with you, and cry on your shoulder and make your pancakes and look like an idiot dancing for your chickens."
Deep breath.
"But apparently you're telling me I can't have what I want. Which is probably good for me; fuck knows it hasn't happened in centuries."
"You always have a choice. Not to get all philosophical on you or anything, but ultimately the decisions of who you want to be and what you want to do rest solely with yourself."
She in turn rests her head against his shoulder.
"So let's say for a moment you did have that choice. What would you choose?"
Then, "Lex's fiancée. The one your mum caught you with - who you said you'd been in love with forever - in whom Lex thinks you have an unhealthily keen interest. That Lana?"
Then she sobers, and shakes her head slightly. "And you had your shot with her and something happened to that," she's not going to say 'you blew it' because the objective here is not to hurt him, "so now she's with Lex and you're pining after her. Am I close?"
"I am not pining," Clark bristles at that. "Like I said, I thought she was what I wanted but I let her go, so maybe she's not. I don't know. She's moved on anyway."
"Yes, betrothal to someone else is generally a sign," she says dryly. "Sorry. I guess the real question is, are you over her? And if not, do you want to be?"
She steps forwards, and it's her turn to reach for his hand.
"I don't want to go home. I don't want to carouse and drink Scorcher and laugh at jokes that aren't funny and have meaningless sex with nameless men who're in it so they can brag about it to their friends later, I don't want to spend another four thousand years forgetting what it's like to be alive, I don't want to shut myself off again. I want to stay here, with you, and cry on your shoulder and make your pancakes and look like an idiot dancing for your chickens."
Deep breath.
"But apparently you're telling me I can't have what I want. Which is probably good for me; fuck knows it hasn't happened in centuries."
Reply
So for a minute or two - or five - he just stands there, not looking at Anna, but also not stopping her from taking his hand.
"I didn't plan for any of this to happen," he finally says, helplessly.
Reply
A moment's pause, then: "...Sorry." Hesitantly, "I just wish I knew what you wanted."
Reply
Reply
She steps closer and, tentative, wraps her arms around him.
Quietly: "In the meantime I hope I'm still welcome in your life, if not your house."
Reply
Reply
She in turn rests her head against his shoulder.
"So let's say for a moment you did have that choice. What would you choose?"
Reply
He lightly puts one arm around her waist.
"I don't know anymore. I thought I knew, I thought I had it, but then I let it go and now... I don't know."
Reply
Reply
"Lana."
Reply
Then, "Lex's fiancée. The one your mum caught you with - who you said you'd been in love with forever - in whom Lex thinks you have an unhealthily keen interest. That Lana?"
Reply
Reply
Then she sobers, and shakes her head slightly. "And you had your shot with her and something happened to that," she's not going to say 'you blew it' because the objective here is not to hurt him, "so now she's with Lex and you're pining after her. Am I close?"
Reply
Reply
Reply
"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
Reply
Leave a comment