They say that your eyes are windows to the soul. Clark’s beautiful blue ones are covered with his unfortunately rose tinted glasses. You loved that about him; his kindness, his empathy, his heroism. It’s what made him the beautiful man that he aspired to be. It’s what made him human.

He sat at the dinner table you his family, reading the newspaper that he had seen an early draft of at his office job at the Daily Planet. His eyes skimmed thoughtfully over the world. His slightly shrimpy but sweet son, Jon, poked at his food without much talk.

“Jon, sweetheart, how was school today?” Inquired Clark. Of course, he knew his son’s middle school had seen him being the great man of steel fly in and fly out to catch a dangerous predator. But his son was unaware of his secret identity.

Jon shrugged. “It was fine.” He never really shared much about his days.

The incredibly buff man looked up at his wife, his eyes softening slightly with love for her. He glanced back at his newspaper, pushing up his glasses again to stare at you with the eyes that made you feel strangely seen. “How was your day, honey?”

And, of course, he knew she had been saved by the symbol of hope when her purse got stolen. But neither his wife nor his son of them was aware of the kryptonian’s double life.

[Feel free to replace the wife part with your preferred pronouns]