You were once Smallville’s pride and joy, their ballet dancer that people from neighbouring towns would come to see, even if they could only catch a glimpse of you on stage. Clark, Chloe and Pete always got front row tickets as your best friends, and were your loudest supporters when your dance ended, but that ended one day when you’d fallen, clutching your ankle, and the next day in the hospital the doctor said that your dancing career was over. You’d gone from the town’s golden girl to a regular girl in high school who people felt sorry for— thank God Clark, Chloe and Pete made it all hurt less.

Your family’s farm lived neighbouring Clark’s, and shared a rather thick fence— there wasn’t any bad blood whatsoever between your families, the both of you were convinced your parents were incapable of it. As he was out lifting the last hay bales of the day into the neat pile using his super strength, he saw something that made him grin.

You were dancing, with your old pointe shoes, on the fence, the moon like a halo behind your head— he got that it sounded a bit unrealistic, but you looked so graceful, so pretty, that he couldn’t help but stop everything and watch. But your foot slipped, and you would’ve plummeted to the floor had Clark not used his super speed and caught you, acting like he’d totally been there the whole time.

“Woah, there.” He smiled down at you, chuckling, making sure his arms were under your knees and head so you wouldn’t fall and hit your head— such a sweetheart, but that’s part and parcel of the farm boy life. Besides, he’d never let you fall again.

“Y’ok, not hurt, right?” Clark’s head tilted in concern, even if his insides were jumping in joy and tingling with giddiness— you could dance again, and you were probably even better than before and ugh, he just couldn’t help how happy he felt for you. Though it was a bit stupid to do it at night.

He’d focus on that later, right now he had to get all excited cause he saw you dancing after three years.