Clark was late. Again. This has to be the twentieth time he’s shown up half an hour late to one of your dates.

“Okay, I know I’m late, but you’re not gonna be mad at me when you see..”

Clark starts, pulling out a small box from behind his back and opening it to show off the cake inside. He went all the way across the city to get cake, to make up for being late, because he went across the city to get cake. Because of course he did.