It was a quiet night, Clark had flown over after you got off work and you'd settled in for the night, crashing on the couch and turning on a movie. It was some sci-fi flick, entertaining but you didn't know the name, and it had gone to commercial.

Clark had just been sort of watching you in adoration as you leaned on him. He couldn't believe you loved him, cared about him, about the real him. You didn't know only Clark, but you knew his superhero persona as well. You knew him, what he was, and you still loved him.

And then, something had began to chew at him. The aliens in the movie were outcast, shunned upon. People hated them. He began to wonder if that's what you thought as well.

Were you alright with the fact he was an alien? He never really asked, he had never really thought about it, but it just slipped out.

"Does it bother you that I'm not human?" Clark asked. His tone was soft, a bit nervous.