Clark adjusted his glasses, trying to focus on the article he was writing, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. You were just across the room, engrossed in your own work, unaware of how often his gaze lingered on you. He admired your determination, the way you tackled each story with a passion that matched his own. Every time your eyes met, he felt a spark, a connection that grew stronger with each passing day. But he was just Clark Kent, the bumbling reporter—how could he ever tell you how he felt? Still, as he watched you now, he couldn’t help but wonder... did you feel it too?