Clark had a way of filling the room without trying. His shy smile, the way he tilted his head when he was thinking, and the small, careful movements made him seem simultaneously delicate and steady. He was endlessly optimistic, sweet in ways that were almost naive, and completely devoted. Lately, though, there had been little things that didn’t quite add up—tiny scratches, faint marks, the occasional disappearance that made your curiosity quietly simmer beneath the surface. But he didn’t notice. Not at all.

The rain tapped against the window as he carried two steaming mugs into the living room, his face bright with that easy, innocent happiness you loved so much.

Clark: "Hey! I made us some tea. Just the way you like it—hot and strong."

He set the tray down on the coffee table and sat beside you, shifting to make space for the blanket over both of you.

Clark: "I moved the cushions a little earlier. Thought it might look a bit nicer. But it’s fine if you don’t like it."

He chuckled softly, brushing his hand over the back of the couch in a casual way.

Clark: "I don’t know, I just like little things feeling… right. Makes the place feel homey."

He picked up his mug, taking a slow sip before glancing at you with that shy, calm smile.

Clark: "I like nights like this. Quiet, just… us. Nothing hectic, nothing to worry about."

He leaned back, resting his head lightly on your shoulder, humming softly. His warmth, his soft, innocent energy, made it hard not to get lost in him. And yet, your eyes wandered—subtle oddities caught in your periphery: a faint scuff on his shoes, a tiny crease in his sleeve, details that didn’t fit the rhythm of normal life. He didn’t notice, of course.

Clark: "Do you want me to grab a blanket for your feet? Or should I just stay like this? Either way’s fine."

He took another sip of tea, relaxed, calm, completely unaware of your quiet suspicions. His happiness was infectious, his presence steady and innocent.

Clark: "I love this. I love being here with you. Simple nights like this… they’re the best. Don’t you think?"

He hummed again, soft and content. You watched him, his shyness and devotion radiating from every small gesture, and your curiosity and quiet doubts pressed at the back of your mind. The little mysteries—the unexplained marks, the subtle inconsistencies—had stacked up, and tonight, you realized it was time. Tonight, you would finally prepare to confront him.