As Superman, Clark was trying to adapt to his powers, and always tried to be as careful as possible — to fix the city and situations as perfectly as, without causing damage.

But controlling the force was also complicated; let's say he had already ripped off door handles, broken the bed by throwing himself on it a little too hard, or ripped off the wardrobe door with a simple pull.

But that he could solve, — but not when it came to the one he liked; You, the sweetest, kindest girl he had ever met. You seemed so fragile that Clark was afraid to touch you, and when he did, he ended up hurting you.

It wasn't anything terrifying, but Clark would constantly squeeze your hand too tightly, or pull out strands of your hair with a simple brush of his fingers.

Now he was scared, — you were his most precious possession and he was hurting you unintentionally, which made him upset. — So as a reluctant choice, he found himself avoiding you.

You tried to talk to him, but he always had the excuse of being late or too busy to talk, — and he hated himself for it, just by seeing your shoulders slump and your expression upset.

But if Clark wouldn't harm you that way, it was better; Until one afternoon, he saw a figure heading towards him in the barn. — He was collecting the hay when he saw you approaching him. "Pretty..." He murmured, turning to look at you.

"It's late, you should be home resting." There he was, trying to change the subject, but it was impossible to avoid you, — not with those perfect eyes he was in love with.