Still not owning them!!!!
And sorry this chapter might be a little bit short.
Clark snapped himself out of his dream and looked at his alarm clock. 2:30 am. What the hell? Clark thought groggily. Then he remembered.
Last night, Clark, Clara, his dad, and his mom were all sitting around the dinner table. Cara was obviously feeling bad about getting herself and Clark in trouble by flying around. She mainly just poked at her food and sipped her water Clark could tell his father felt bad as well, then worse when Clara excused herself after two bites of food and three sips of water.
After eating very little himself out of concern for Clara, Clark got up and went to the loft to do a little thinking There he saw Clara straddling the doors on the barn as he had done himself many times before.
Thought they may not have been cousins, Clara did hold many strong resemblance to himself He guessed it was because they were of the same species. She had the same dark brown hair - but a lot longer - and the same eyes that could never decide if they wanted to be green, gray, or blue. Her lips had the same fullness, though hers were accentuated with a very pretty sheer lipgloss. All of a sudden, Clark wanted to kiss those lips and run his fingers through that lustrous hair. He snapped himself out of it by pinching himself.
Then again he found himself studying her. Her delicate brows were drawn together; her lips he had so wanted to kiss seconds ago pulled into a deep frown. He thought this was something of what he looked like when he was brooding. One of her small and long-fingered hands fluttered upward to tuck back her hair. She could have easily done it with her TK, but Clark thought she must be in the habit of doing things by hand in front of other people.
Why was he standing in the shadows merely watching her? He walked up to her, making her start when she saw him in the light. He was surprised she had not sensed him. Apparently so was she.
"Sorry," he said. 'I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's fine," she said. "On a normal day you wouldn't have."
"Look, my dad, he just, freaks -"
"Clark," she interrupted, shaking her head and driving Clark crazy when her hair shook a little. What was coming over him? There must be something wrong with him. His heart was beating too fast and he felt too hot for the breeze coming through the barn doors. He wondered if maybe he was coming down with some strange illness. If he were a normal person, he'd get himself checked out by the doctors. As it was, he might be dying (and from the way his pulse was going that could be the truth) and he would never know until he was in a coffin. He knew deep down what was going on, but wouldn't let the thought surface lest she, or even worse, he see for himself what he was hiding.
"You would think you'd realize I now how bad your father feels. Jonathon had every right to do what he did, but I understood he doesn't feel good about it," she said
"Well, how 'bout you tell him that?" Clark said.
"I will. As soon as I remind myself I'm not living on high security grounds anymore and anyone can come whenever they want."
"You don't' have to feel bad about who you are Clara." The words came naturally. Probably because his own parents had said it to him so many times before. "Flying was obviously more part of your life than it is mine." She smiled faintly and Clark sat across from her. He as about to reach out for the small hand on her lap (what was that about? He wondered to himself) when Jonathon came up the stairs.
He looked at the two of them and felt something grow warm inside him. He felt so happy Clark finally had someone he could really relate to. A little jealous he had to admit, but the happiness really overrode any spark of jealousy. It was obvious from the brooding look on their faces that the two of them were definitely bonding.
"Clark," he said, walking on the dusty loft floor. "Clara. I have something to say."
He had granted Clara permission to teach Clark how to fly. They had agreed that it had to be so early that no one would be coming by the farm. (That "someone" happened to be Lex Luthor more than anyone else, and all three of them knew it). The three of them decided on 2:30 in the morning.
"Clark!" Now Clara was a little impatient to really be off. "Clark, did you fall asleep again?"
He finally came out wearing faded and a little outgrown pants that shoed off his leg muscles and a white shirt he only wore around the farm because it was so tight.
Now, as a spoiled little rich girl (much like Kelly Osbourne, but a lot prettier) Clara had seen her fair share of men without their shirts on. But even with that tight shirt on, it showed every roll and ripple of his well-defined muscles as though there were nothing there at all. And you can bet your bottom dollar that Clara was certainly noticing. No cousinly feelings between those two you might say. Thank God I'm the mind reader! she thought to herself. She found she couldn't stop staring at those wonderful abs.
She shook her head to rid it of those thoughts. Clark and his family had been kind enough to give her food and shelter, and here she was thinking of how perfect his abs were. How pathetic!
"You read to go?" she asked, putting her hands in her pockets to avoid grabbing his hands.
"Yeah - yeah I'm ready."
"Then let's do it," she said and quietly they crept out the front door lest they wake Martha and Jonathon unnecessarily.
You'll find out what happens when Clark learns to fly...next chapter. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!
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