There's something strangely soothing about watching the sun slowly rise above the horizon.

It's one of those quaint small town things you would never dream of doing in Metropolis, mainly because, unless you have the penthouse in the Luthor Tower at your disposal, there's no place in the city from where you can spot the horizon, let alone watch the sunrise, without at least ten skyscrapers standing in the way.

Here however, all you have to do is sit back on your porch's swing with a big mug of fresh coffee and enjoy the show.

As I said, it's soothing. And Lord knows I need some serious soothing right now.

Clark hates me. Really hates me. Not that I can blame him. I would probably hate myself too if I were in his shoes. Correction. I hate myself already.

I can't believe I was too busy being a reporter to be a friend. Worse, I deliberately lied to Clark about his adoption and still, I felt I had the right to be angry with him! When did I become such a stupid…

"You're up early."

Oh. My. God. Guilt must be making me hallucinate now, because I could swear on my life that Clark is standing in my porch and just talked to me.

Before I can process the fact that this is not a figment of my imagination and Clark is indeed here, he's sitting right next to me on the swing.

The infinitesimal part of my brain that's not paralyzed by this realization asks itself what the hell he's doing here. That part is quickly told to shut up and enjoy the fact that, against all my expectations and probably his better judgment, Clark hasn't decided to never speak to me again.

We just stay silent for a while, both trying to find the right words. He beats me to it.

"You know… all my life I have imagined how it would be like to share this with someone other than my parents. I can't tell how many times that scene has played in my mind in which I finally… dropped the bomb, you know? How it would go with you, or Lex, or Lana… There must have been a thousand different versions of that conversation. That doesn't mean it always went well. More like… the exact opposite…"

He's lost in thought now and I barely dare to interrupt. "Did you ever think what I'd…?  I mean… how did I take it… in those imaginary talks?"

"In the best ones you weren't mad, you said you understood and everything went fine. And then there were the really… really… awful ones…"

"Worse than the other day?"

Clark nods slightly.

"Should I be offended that you have such a poor concept of me?" I joke to relieve the tension.

He lets out a soft chuckle.

"I guess I basically thought that imagining the worst possible outcome would prepare me for anything. Obviously, I was wrong. I just can't believe that in all these years it never occurred to me, not even once, that it wouldn't be me revealing my secret, but someone confronting me about it."

Clark grins at me to let me know he's not mad.

"Isn't that ironic? I had pictured everyone's possible reaction… except mine."

He's being so disarmingly honest and he's so very near right now and I love him so much that I'm seriously close to losing my mind and kissing him.

For the sake of my own sanity I try to morph into collected decision-making Chloe instead.

"Oh, I almost forgot… I've been doing quite a bit of hacking and… you're not exactly inconspicuous, you know that? I had to erase your name from at least ten police files. Perhaps you should be a little more…" I pause, searching for the right word "… more cautious from now on. I don't want to imagine what would've happened if it hadn't been me the one to find Nixon's early Christmas present."

I avoid looking at him. If I see gratitude in his eyes I'll lose it.

"Thank you." Clark says, barely above a whisper.

The coffee mug I was trying so hard to concentrate on is becoming blurrier by the second. Please, don't let him see me cry. Please, not now. Please…

A pair of comforting arms envelops me and I just abandon myself to their comfort. The world around us disappears and there's nothing but Clark and the faint scent of hay on his shirt and this incredible feeling of safety and warmth, like finally getting home after the longest journey. Oh, there goes reason. I knew I'd lose it anyway. And now he's hugging me. Out of pity.

Between sobs, I can't stop repeating how sorry I am. He just caresses my hair and tells me not to worry.

God, where's self-control when you really need it? I would even settle for a nice little hole opening in the ground under my feet and swallowing me…

It takes all my willpower to pull away from his embrace, but there's still something I need to say. I wipe a tear with the back of my hand and try to fake a composure I couldn't be further from feeling.

"There's something I never got the chance to tell you. Actually, the most important thing of all."

He raises his eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure I don't have any secrets left, Chloe."

I playfully shove his shoulder.

"Not about you. About me. And… you know… this."

"Okay…" he says as if giving me a cue to continue.

"And I realize this might change things between us, but I really need to tell you." I sigh. "See, all these recent…"

"Developments?" he offers.

"Thank you. Yeah, all these… developments haven't changed the way I feel about you in the slightest. I mean, granted I was furious because you didn't trust me…" I trail off when I realize Clark is looking down.

I place a hand under his chin and force him to look up at me. "Hey, keyword being was, okay?"

He smiles, reminding me of the reason why I'm about to say what I'm about to say. Now, if only I could find the courage…

"Anyway, once I got past all my…"

"Wrath?"

"Yeah, all my… wait. Who's telling this story again?" I narrow my eyes at him.

He lifts his hands in mock surrender making me crack up despite myself.

"So, for the third time… once I got past my considerable and by the way perfectly justified anger, I realized I don't care if you're from the moon, Clark."

I take a deep breath and look away at the horizon. "I still love you… I'm still in love with you. The same as yesterday, the same as that day in eighth grade when I kissed you for the first time… the same as ever."

Clark remains silent.

Okay, in any Meg Ryan movie this would be the part when he takes me in his arms and kisses me senseless, but it's painfully obvious that's not going to happen. I make a mental vow never to watch 'You've got Mail' again in my entire life.

Quick, Chloe. Cover up. Just go ahead and say something.

"Look, we missed the sunri…" I start to say, but can't continue because he cuts me off mid-sentence… with a kiss. And then another. And another…

My last articulate thought before grabbing Clark's neck and saying goodbye to reason is that I might give old Meg another chance, after all.

- THE END –

That was it! Thank you for making it this far. I really hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it.

'Pandora's Box' was inspired by 'Something to talk about', the beginning of my Chloe-has-to-know obsession, so you might like to have a look at that one, too. And yes, I am aware that was shameless self-promotion;)