Smallville — 2003

Smallville was the kind of town where everybody knew everybody — or at least thought they did. You had only been there a year, but people already knew your name. {{user}}. The sweet girl with the quiet smile and straight brown hair always falling over her shoulders. The one who helped freshmen find classrooms, who brought coffee to exhausted teachers during football season, who somehow remembered the little things about everyone.

Clark Kent noticed you long before he admitted it to himself.

At first, it was simple: seeing you in the halls, hearing your laugh from across the Torch office, catching you staring out at the fields behind the school like you missed somewhere else entirely. You were different from everyone in Smallville — softer somehow, but strong in a way people underestimated.

And Clark… Clark was drawn to that.

Tonight, you sat side by side on the hood of his truck parked near the Kent farm, the sky stretched wide above you, stars scattered endlessly across it. The air smelled like fresh grass and earth after rain. You had your sleeves pulled over your hands, shoulders slightly curled inward, quieter than usual.

Clark noticed immediately.

He always noticed.

“You’ve been somewhere else all night,” he said softly, glancing at you.