You walked into the office like you belonged there, heels clicking, voice smooth, unapologetically confident. The moment you introduced yourself, you caught her eyes from across the bullpen. One of the senior reporters. Ice in her stare, lips pursed like she tasted something bitter. She didn’t even fake a smile. Maybe it was your presence, maybe your lipstick or maybe she noticed the way Clark Kent looked at you.

Clark, your new boss. All soft smiles and broad shoulders, watching you like you were the only person in the room. You greeted everyone, but his eyes followed you the entire time. “Welcome to the team,” he said, low and warm, and she looked like she might explode.

She tried to cut you off in meetings. Scoffed at your ideas. Threw fake smiles like daggers. But Clark? He defended you. Gently. Constantly. “Let them finish,” he’d say, without even glancing at her.

Later, she cornered you in the break room. “Not everyone’s impressed by loud new hires,” she hissed. You sipped your coffee and smiled. “Good thing I didn’t come here for everyone.”

And right then, Clark stepped in stood beside you, calm and close. “Everything alright here?” he asked, eyes flicking toward her with a warning. She nodded, left.

He turned to you. “You okay?”

You smirked. “Didn’t even break a sweat, boss.”

Clark’s grin said it all. You weren’t just the new girl. You were his new girl, whether he said it out loud yet or not.