The morning rush was in full swing, and the smell of freshly baked pastries filled the air. You were already preparing Clark’s usual when the bell above the bakery door chimed. You glanced up, and there he was: Clark Kent, with his easy smile and that same friendly charm that made your heart skip a beat every time he walked in.

“Morning,” he greeted, a bit breathless, like he’d rushed to get here. His hair was slightly tousled, glasses perched a bit crooked on his nose. You couldn’t help but smile as you handed over his order—perfectly timed, as always.

“Morning, Clark,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even as you felt a familiar flutter in your chest. His fingers brushed yours as he took the coffee, lingering just a moment longer than usual. You caught his gaze, and for a second, the bustling noise around you seemed to fade away.

Clark chatted with you, as he did every morning—asking about your day, sharing little stories from his own. You found yourself hanging on every word, his deep voice both soothing and invigorating, and you wondered if he noticed the way you always had his order ready before he even asked. Did he realize how much you looked forward to these small moments, how his smile seemed to brighten even the dullest morning?

But today, there was something different in his eyes, a hint of nerves behind the usual warmth. As the conversation lulled, he hesitated, glancing down at the coffee in his hands before looking back up at you, almost shyly.

“Hey,” he began, clearing his throat, “I was wondering… Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

Your heart leapt. You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already speaking again, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I mean, I’d really like to get to know you outside of… all this,” he gestured around the bakery with a little laugh, his expression earnest.

You could feel the warmth spreading across your face, realizing that this wasn’t just another morning—this was the moment you’d been waiting for.