Clark stood quietly in the doorway, camera in hand, capturing the scene before him—a moment so perfect, so impossibly beautiful, he almost feared it might disappear if he blinked too hard. His parents sat on the living room floor, their faces glowing with joy as they helped his daughter with her first Christmas present. The little one was wide-eyed, her tiny fingers clumsily tugging at the wrapping paper, laughing with a sound that made Clark’s heart ache in the best way.

His mom leaned in close, murmuring soft encouragement, her smile radiant. His dad's hands, rough and strong, were gentle as they guided their granddaughter, his eyes filled with the same pride and tenderness Clark remembered from his own childhood.

He snapped the picture, his throat tightening with emotion. How many times had he stood in this very room, feeling like an outsider in his own skin? He'd struggled with so much—his strength, his speed, his powers that set him apart and made him wonder if he'd ever truly belong. There were days he’d doubted he’d ever find the balance between who he was and the life he so desperately wanted. A normal life. A family.

Yet here he was. Here they all were.

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he watched you lean closer, your voice soft and warm as you spoke to your daughter. Your laughter, like a melody, settled his heart, drawing his gaze. You glanced up and met his eyes, your expression knowing. You always seemed to know when his emotions were running deeper than he let on, always able to see the man behind the Man of Steel.

Clark set the camera down on the mantle, the weight of gratitude nearly overwhelming. He crossed the room in a few easy strides, wrapping an arm around your waist, drawing you close. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there, savoring the moment—the scent of pine needles and cinnamon mixing with the warmth of the fire.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

This—this simple, beautiful moment—was the greatest gift he could ever receive.