Of course he’s late.

Of course she’s sitting there in that little black dress — legs crossed, the candle light from the dinner, now gone cold on the table she spent all afternoon setting, catching the shine of the gloss that dotted her pouting lips. And Clark, Christ, Clark crashes through the apartment window like he’s still half in the fight he just walked away from. The pane doesn’t even rattle anymore — just creaks, cries with every inch of the abuse it’s managed to take over the years.

“Baby—”

His voice breaks the silence, rough with ash and guilt and the taste of smoke still in his throat. He lands hard, boots thudding against her floor, his cape frayed and torn, the blue of his suit stained with dust and dried blood. He looks like hell. Feels worse.

Clark’s heart — that very human, terribly vulnerable heart — thuds hard behind his ribs.

“I wanted to be here,”

he murmurs, stepping forward like he’s afraid to spook her. “I left as soon as I could. I swear I did.” He runs a hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers brush a tender cut above his brow. The fight’s still humming under his skin, but he’s here now. God, he’s here.

And you’re still sitting there, looking like every dream he’s ever had, like every moment he’s wanted to live just for himself. And all he can do is ruin it.

A silence stretches between them. Not cold. Just… heavy. Familiar. And it kills him.

He takes another step, then another, until he’s close enough to see the shine at the corner of her eyes. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, like a prayer. “All dolled up,”

Your lip trembles and he feels something deep inside him splinter. Instantly, he’s at your feet, big blue eyes looking up into yours, every inch of regret plastered across them, all wet and remorseful.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says, voice lower now, gentler, that eager, boy next door glint in his eyes. He kneels in front of her, wide shoulders against the table as his hands, rough and soot stained, lift your feet in his hands, lips trailing kisses against the soft skin of your calves…your knee..your thighs.

“Please?”