Clark stood on the rooftop, listening as his carefully crafted lies fell apart. He should’ve known you were too perceptive to fall for it. Of course you would figure out he was Superman. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known you’d had your doubts. You’d noticed the way he’d seemingly disappear whenever Superman showed up. How he got cagey whenever the topic was brought up. Clark had never been very good at lying to you. But he hadn’t wanted to drag you into danger so he’d tried his best to throw you off. But now he was here. His hair whipped in the wind as he listened to you rattle off every little reason and piece of evidence you’d gathered that proved he was Superman. He felt a mixture of relief and guilt. Relief because he wouldn’t have to hide from you and guilt because you looked pretty pissed off. Eventually, you went quiet and Clark realized it was probably his turn to talk. He winced, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry?”