There's no denying he confessed because he was facing imminent death.

Clark doesn't regret not dying, but he'd surely have more dignity if he did.

As he hovers above your balcony, the stench of alien grime emanates from his suit. Should he have showered before coming? Probably. His brain is still reeling from the battle with Darkseid, and his body hasn't quite recovered. Despite the torture and his subsequent victory, you were the first thing on his mind. It was almost instinctive—and here he is.

He can't help but feel stupid. You deserve someone who's not constantly soaring across the globe or venturing into space with little warning. Maybe the confession was a mistake. Did you feel pressured? God, he hopes not.

Clark understands he frightens people due to his nature. Neither his heart, brimming with love for humans and Earth, nor any amount of heroic deeds or admirers will change what has become a rigid constant for many—an unwritten law.

Superman will never be accepted as a man or an equal. Insurpable power breeds fear.

It won't diminish the love he has to give. The same applies to you, no matter what your answer to his confession will be. Scaring you into accepting would crush him.

He wrestles with the decision of flying home to shower and not returning as Superman but as Clark, shedding the larger-than-life persona for the humble farm boy with a crush.

Before he can decide, your balcony door slides open.