Title: Seeing it All
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Notes: Nothing really, just want to point out that this is my first Clark p.o.v. fic, so tell what you think. Its kinda A.U. but it came to me and my muse said it must be written and I always listen to my muse. :-)
I watch her see the way she tilts her head, knaws on a pencil or knits her brows. I see all those little things. I see other things too. The things everyone thinks I don't. The way she watches me, the sighs for me. I see it all. Even the pain.
Sometimes I study her. I wrap around me all the things about her: the contours of her face, the freckles, the curves of her smile. I stamp every image in my memory, so I'll never forget why I stay away.
Maybe it's the electricity that flashes behind her eyes. It could be her hands, something different in the way they touch and feel, the way they comfort, the way they push. Or it could be all the things that would take a years to tell. Smiles, laughs, her heart, her fearlessness. All these things make her, her. Make me want her. Make me hurt her. It's all these things that make her crush *me*.
In some moments I believe she does it on purpose. That she knows exactly where I hurt. The part of that isn't made of fleshy steal. It's in these moments I have to wonder if she know my greatest weakness isn't the rocks. It's in those seconds that make me think that she knows it's her. That she knows I'd do anything to make her happy. To make her smile. Then other times I know she doesn't. There are times I know she believes in the lies and half-truths or at least allows them to pass silently by. Then there are the times when in her I eyes I catch the glint. The accusation of falsity and betrayal. The times when she knows I cover myself in a blanket of lies. These moments are the true ones, the ones where I know that she hasn't a clue about me, about how I'd do anything for her. I do anything but give her the truth. So really I can't give her anything she wants.
I hide from her; from the dream of what I really want. Because I can't be what she really wants, what she needs, what she believes I am.
Human.
Normal.
*Real.*
I'd do anything for her even if she doesn't know it, doesn't see it. I take solace in the knowledge that she'll enjoy the innocence I let remain. She'll bathe in the light of what she thinks she knows. Even if it leaves me to carry the lies billowing weight alone. Even if it leaves me alone. Because I'd do anything for her, even if she can't ever know.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Notes: Nothing really, just want to point out that this is my first Clark p.o.v. fic, so tell what you think. Its kinda A.U. but it came to me and my muse said it must be written and I always listen to my muse. :-)
I watch her see the way she tilts her head, knaws on a pencil or knits her brows. I see all those little things. I see other things too. The things everyone thinks I don't. The way she watches me, the sighs for me. I see it all. Even the pain.
Sometimes I study her. I wrap around me all the things about her: the contours of her face, the freckles, the curves of her smile. I stamp every image in my memory, so I'll never forget why I stay away.
Maybe it's the electricity that flashes behind her eyes. It could be her hands, something different in the way they touch and feel, the way they comfort, the way they push. Or it could be all the things that would take a years to tell. Smiles, laughs, her heart, her fearlessness. All these things make her, her. Make me want her. Make me hurt her. It's all these things that make her crush *me*.
In some moments I believe she does it on purpose. That she knows exactly where I hurt. The part of that isn't made of fleshy steal. It's in these moments I have to wonder if she know my greatest weakness isn't the rocks. It's in those seconds that make me think that she knows it's her. That she knows I'd do anything to make her happy. To make her smile. Then other times I know she doesn't. There are times I know she believes in the lies and half-truths or at least allows them to pass silently by. Then there are the times when in her I eyes I catch the glint. The accusation of falsity and betrayal. The times when she knows I cover myself in a blanket of lies. These moments are the true ones, the ones where I know that she hasn't a clue about me, about how I'd do anything for her. I do anything but give her the truth. So really I can't give her anything she wants.
I hide from her; from the dream of what I really want. Because I can't be what she really wants, what she needs, what she believes I am.
Human.
Normal.
*Real.*
I'd do anything for her even if she doesn't know it, doesn't see it. I take solace in the knowledge that she'll enjoy the innocence I let remain. She'll bathe in the light of what she thinks she knows. Even if it leaves me to carry the lies billowing weight alone. Even if it leaves me alone. Because I'd do anything for her, even if she can't ever know.