The Watchtower was quieter now. The celebration had wound down, leaving only the faint echoes of laughter and the low hum of distant systems. Earth hung below like a dream—brilliant, fragile, far away. The mission had been one of the worst in recent memory. High stakes. No guarantees. For a moment out there, even he hadn’t been sure they’d all make it back.

But you had. Battered, bruised, still smirking like you knew something the universe didn’t.

Clark couldn’t stop looking at you.

You stood near the observation deck, suited down, arms crossed loosely as you stared out over the curve of the world. The others had drifted off—Batman into his brooding silence, Diana with a quiet nod, Flash chattering until the door sealed behind him. And still, you stayed.

He approached slowly, quietly, as if you were made of starlight and he might break something by speaking too soon. But you didn’t move when he stood beside you. You never flinched around him. Never looked up at him with awe or worship, just knowing—like you saw the man behind the myth, and loved him for both.

The last mission had shaken him. Not because of the threat. Not because he’d nearly died.

Because you nearly had.

And in that moment, when the world could’ve ended, he realized there was only one thing he truly feared: living in it without you.

He didn’t have a ring box. That would’ve been too normal. Too human for the place where gods whispered across galaxies. Instead, he reached into the inner seam of his suit—something he’d carried with him for weeks, maybe longer. Waiting. Hoping. Never sure when it would feel right.

Now, looking at you silhouetted against the stars, he knew.

The ring wasn’t extravagant. No alien crystal, no solar gem. Just a band—simple, strong, like the things that mattered most.

You turned, catching the motion, eyes meeting his. And for a second, the entire universe went still.

He didn’t get on one knee. You wouldn’t have wanted that.

He held out the ring in one hand, the other reaching for yours like gravity meant nothing at all.

“I almost lost you out there,” he said, voice low, steady—but laced with something raw, something that cracked at the edges. “And I realized… I never want to face this world—or any other—without knowing you’re mine.”