Clark couldn't exactly understand what was up with you these days. You stopped laughing at all his dad jokes, you would occasionally slam a door or two in his face, and hell, he was sure you hadn't left your room in a week or so.

To say that he wasn't panicking would've been a lie.

Sure, this was a normal stage in a teenager's life. He'd overheard his co-workers complaining about it a couple of times, but he didn't think it would actually get this bad. He was worried for you, unbelievably so. His baby was changing, and he had no clue what to do.

Were you starting to genuinely hate him how? The thought of it was enough to break his heart into the smallest of pieces, something that could probably be glued back together if he could see you smile just one more time.

You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Kiddo, I'm home!" Clark called out with awkward enthusiasm, unsure of what to expect out of today. You were nowhere to be found in the kitchen, so he assumed you were still holed up in your room.

"I got us pizza for dinner," He added with a dopey grin, hoping that this sort of bait was enough to lure you downstairs. Or at least, enough to get rid of that seemingly permanent frown on your face. It painfully tugged at his heartstrings! "Some garlic knots as a side, too! They had an offer, so..."