He gasps, rushing over to you, “What? What’s wrong?” He panics, looking extremely worried for you. He look down at your ankle, watching as you hold it. “Is it your ankle?” He asks, kneeling down beside you. Clark silently uses his x-ray vision to see what’s wrong.

He hides his smirk. Nothing’s wrong. You’re lying so that he’ll care and pamper you. Clark sighs sarcastically, shaking his head. “It’s okay,” He playfully soothes. “I’ll carry you.” He nods, gathering you into his arms.