Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville or any of the well-known characters associated with the show. However, I altered certain events … just because I can! Furthermore, some events happen out of order in this fic than how they occurred on the show. This fic takes place about a year after his return from Metropolis, so Clark is a senior in high school.
Summary: Following Clark's return home from Metropolis, everything in his life seems to spiral out of his control. Chloe stays loyally by his side as he struggles to cope with a blindsiding tragedy, and somewhere along the way, he falls hard for her. When a routine rescue goes wrong for Clark, will their relationship be able to survive it? (The plot has been restructured in a couple of chapters, so if you have been following the story, you should read it from the very beginning. Thanks!)
Clark Kent yanked out his tie in frustration for the third consecutive time. He didn't understand why he was so nervous; Chloe was his best friend, and he was taking her to the prom. Big deal? Wrapping the uncooperative black material around his neck yet again, he set about completing the simple, though seemingly impossible task of properly dressing himself. He sighed in defeat as his uncoordinated hands failed to comply with his desire to create a presentable bow tie. He stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror that was leaning precariously against his oak desk.
For a moment, he allowed his mind to drift and pretend that the last few months hadn't happened. He closed his eyes, imagining that she was still here. He could clearly see her gentle blue eyes smiling at him as she tucked a fiery-red strand behind her ear. A scene bled into formation behind his eyes, and he lost himself in the vision's comforting familiarity.
"Okay, Martha. I think we got enough photos to last for a lifetime," Jonathan teased, laughing as his wife swatted him, "Besides you don't want them to be late for their senior prom."
Clark and Chloe exchanged amused glances. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "You look beautiful," he whispered, allowing his breath to ghost across her neck.
Martha almost melted at the sight before her and took another photo, smiling as her husband rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm done. Have fun you two!" she called as they sprinted out the door. They ambled along the driveway, stopping a few feet from the porch to share a quick kiss. A light flashed, and they peered at the sky, before continuing on the short journey.
"Jonathan, what are you doing?" Martha demanded, handing him a cup of fresh coffee as she sipped her own. Jonathan jumped guiltily from his perch on the porch railing, camera held aloft in his hand.
"Nothing, just getting some fresh air," he stated casually.
Martha raised an eyebrow. "Right... Well, I'm gonna need the camera back; I need to charge it," she said, smiling knowingly.
As if on cue, Chloe's heartbeat filled his ears, ending his fantasy and blocking out the everyday sounds of the farm. He found comfort in the accelerated, excited rhythm, realizing she was just as nervous as he was. Her footsteps interrupted his meditation as she ascended to his loft. He caught her silhouette in the glass as she approached him and breathed out a slightly raspy, "Wow." "You've fallen hard for her, man," a voice whispered from deep within his subconscious.
"Admiring the view, Farmboy? And I thought you were modest about your appearance," she quipped.
"Actually, I was admiring someone more petite and of the fairer sex. Chloe, you look beautiful," he said, turning to face her. Clark's eyes drifted across the silky pale pink strapless gown that clung to her curves in all the right places. The beaded heart shaped neck-line revealed a modest amount of cleavage, but not enough to divert his attention from the natural beauty that illuminated from the soft features of her face.
"You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, blushing.
He smiled at her, fidgeting with his unfinished tie. "Chloe... Would you mind helping me? I just haven't...My mom always used to..." he struggled through the lump in his throat, but was unable to finish.
"Clark, it's okay. I'd love to." She glided toward him, until they were only inches apart. She smelled so wonderful and inviting - like fresh apples and spring time. His heart raced as she reached for the tie. Her hands moved almost too quickly for the human eye to see, and in seconds, she was finished. He felt a twinge of disappointment when she stepped back to admire her work.
"Perfect," she mused as her eyes roamed skyward to study his face.
He got lost in her vibrant green eyes, overwhelmed by the warmth and affection swimming in their depths.
"Absolutely perfect," he agreed.