Title: This Time
Author: Lala
Rating: G
Pairing: One-sided Clana, slight Whitana. My attempt at s1 Lana.
Summary: His scent, his warmth, his very essence are so familiar. We've held each other hundreds of times before, but this time it's different. This time, I can't stop picturing laughing ocean blue eyes and a shy smile.
Spoilers: Shimmer, Pilot
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. Semisappy fic ahead.
Author's Notes: This was meant to be a fic where Lana realizes how strong her feelings are for Clark… didn't go quite as planned, but I still hope you like. A big thanks to Laura for betaing. Enjoy!
---
I'm sitting on my porch when he comes. I'm sitting here thinking about the transition from friends to something more that almost happened between Clark and I just two nights ago on this same porch.
I don't hear him at first; he usually drives over, but not tonight. Even so, I'm too wrapped up in thoughts of Clark… trying to tell myself that our almost kiss only would have happened because I was upset over Whitney… Trying to tell myself that when Clark looks at me, smiles at me, speaks my name, a thrill doesn't run through me almost like electricity. A thrill so exhilarating, so overpowering, that I'm beginning to have trouble controlling it.
It's only his footsteps that alert me. Faint at first, but as I look up he's growing closer, looking hesitant. I know its Whitney from the moment I see his silhouette in the dim light and I hate the wave of disappointment that crashes over me at the realization that it's not Clark.
He climbs the steps and hesitates before sitting beside me. There was a time when his closeness would make me feel lightheaded, when his scent, his voice, everything about him would give me butterflies…but not anymore.
"Lana…" I want to feel the joy that Clark speaking my name always brings, but it doesn't come.
"Hi," I say quietly. I don't know what else to say, don't know how I'm suppose to feel anymore.
I'm expected to be with Whitney.
But I suddenly don't want to be.
"I wanted to apologize." He obviously can't see the conflict I'm going through, and for this I am glad.
I give him a smile, the one I show everybody. The one from my cheerleading days, from my old life.
Whitney was part of my old life, my fake life.
I don't know if I need… if I want him in my new one as my boyfriend.
"It's just… it's been a rough couple of weeks," he says heavily. "I didn't… you shouldn't have to be dragged into it."
"I want to help you," I tell him softly. I do. Whitney's a wonderful person… as a friend.
He sighs a long, disparaging sigh, and instinctively I reach out to him. Place my hand on his forearm, lean in close.
"Whitney," I tell him gently, "please let me help you. Please tell me what's going on. You're hurting and I hate to see you like this."
He strokes my cheek, and I lean into his palm. There's a pause, and then in a whisper, "it... it's my dad. He's sick… he's in the hospital."
I gasp in shock, but remain silent. I don't know what to say. Not an apology, they never help. Maybe in this instance words aren't needed.
He's speaking again, voice husky. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't want to bring anymore pain into your life. I… I didn't want to hurt you."
"The only way you could hurt me is by keeping things from me," I tell him gently. I stroke my hand along his arm in a gesture of comfort that used to mean so much more.
"I know that now," he says seriously.
The pain I see in his eyes hurts me, but not as much as this revelation a few months ago would've. Without thinking I draw him close, smoothing the hair off his forehead.
He returns the hug, pulling me as close as I'll allow.
His scent, his warmth, his very essence are so familiar. We've held each other hundreds of times before, but this time it's different.
This time, I can't stop picturing laughing ocean blue eyes and a shy smile.
This time, I can't stop remembering the feel of Clark's skin under mine when I kissed him on the cheek. A gesture so simple back then now means the world to me.
This time, I can't think about Whitney.
I can't stop thinking about Clark.
And I don't want to.
Author: Lala
Rating: G
Pairing: One-sided Clana, slight Whitana. My attempt at s1 Lana.
Summary: His scent, his warmth, his very essence are so familiar. We've held each other hundreds of times before, but this time it's different. This time, I can't stop picturing laughing ocean blue eyes and a shy smile.
Spoilers: Shimmer, Pilot
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. Semisappy fic ahead.
Author's Notes: This was meant to be a fic where Lana realizes how strong her feelings are for Clark… didn't go quite as planned, but I still hope you like. A big thanks to Laura for betaing. Enjoy!
---
I'm sitting on my porch when he comes. I'm sitting here thinking about the transition from friends to something more that almost happened between Clark and I just two nights ago on this same porch.
I don't hear him at first; he usually drives over, but not tonight. Even so, I'm too wrapped up in thoughts of Clark… trying to tell myself that our almost kiss only would have happened because I was upset over Whitney… Trying to tell myself that when Clark looks at me, smiles at me, speaks my name, a thrill doesn't run through me almost like electricity. A thrill so exhilarating, so overpowering, that I'm beginning to have trouble controlling it.
It's only his footsteps that alert me. Faint at first, but as I look up he's growing closer, looking hesitant. I know its Whitney from the moment I see his silhouette in the dim light and I hate the wave of disappointment that crashes over me at the realization that it's not Clark.
He climbs the steps and hesitates before sitting beside me. There was a time when his closeness would make me feel lightheaded, when his scent, his voice, everything about him would give me butterflies…but not anymore.
"Lana…" I want to feel the joy that Clark speaking my name always brings, but it doesn't come.
"Hi," I say quietly. I don't know what else to say, don't know how I'm suppose to feel anymore.
I'm expected to be with Whitney.
But I suddenly don't want to be.
"I wanted to apologize." He obviously can't see the conflict I'm going through, and for this I am glad.
I give him a smile, the one I show everybody. The one from my cheerleading days, from my old life.
Whitney was part of my old life, my fake life.
I don't know if I need… if I want him in my new one as my boyfriend.
"It's just… it's been a rough couple of weeks," he says heavily. "I didn't… you shouldn't have to be dragged into it."
"I want to help you," I tell him softly. I do. Whitney's a wonderful person… as a friend.
He sighs a long, disparaging sigh, and instinctively I reach out to him. Place my hand on his forearm, lean in close.
"Whitney," I tell him gently, "please let me help you. Please tell me what's going on. You're hurting and I hate to see you like this."
He strokes my cheek, and I lean into his palm. There's a pause, and then in a whisper, "it... it's my dad. He's sick… he's in the hospital."
I gasp in shock, but remain silent. I don't know what to say. Not an apology, they never help. Maybe in this instance words aren't needed.
He's speaking again, voice husky. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't want to bring anymore pain into your life. I… I didn't want to hurt you."
"The only way you could hurt me is by keeping things from me," I tell him gently. I stroke my hand along his arm in a gesture of comfort that used to mean so much more.
"I know that now," he says seriously.
The pain I see in his eyes hurts me, but not as much as this revelation a few months ago would've. Without thinking I draw him close, smoothing the hair off his forehead.
He returns the hug, pulling me as close as I'll allow.
His scent, his warmth, his very essence are so familiar. We've held each other hundreds of times before, but this time it's different.
This time, I can't stop picturing laughing ocean blue eyes and a shy smile.
This time, I can't stop remembering the feel of Clark's skin under mine when I kissed him on the cheek. A gesture so simple back then now means the world to me.
This time, I can't think about Whitney.
I can't stop thinking about Clark.
And I don't want to.