balancesoflight :
Clark laughs softly, hearing Lois comment that she does, in fact, look better in everything, and he knows he cannot argue her on that. Being with Lois, having her around on a day like today, with the two of them not having to go into work makes Clark feel a little more at ease – but also having her around makes him feel more… human, in a way. He would never know how to phrase it to Lois to tell her that, so he doesn’t – keeping it to himself, like a small secret, locked away in his chest. He likes how he feels with her. “You sure found her, didn’t you?” Martha asked Clark one day, when he’d taken Lois over to meet her. He smiled, perhaps a little bashfully as Martha had hummed quietly, reaching over to hold Clark’s hand in her own for a few moments. They’re both thinking about the same thing; or, in this case, the same person, Jonathan floating in their minds, unspoken between the two of them for a few moments. “He would’ve loved her, you know,” Martha says quietly after a few moments, her voice shaking slightly. Clark nodded, leaning over to kiss the head of the only mother he’s ever known – even if she isn’t his mother, per say, she always will be to Clark. He gripped her hand, smiling a little as he glanced back to see Lois in the kitchen, insisting she did the dishes as he leans back a little in his chair. He misses being out there, in the country, hearing Jonathan’s voice calling him to come inside, and wishing he couldn’t seen his impressed face when he’d met Lois for the first time. But that moment never came, because he wasn’t there. But Clark so badly wished he was. Clark smiles a little, feeling the playful bite of his jaw as he runs a gentle hand through her hair. “To combat my height? I’m sure that could be… interesting,” Clark teases her now, humming quietly as he kisses her hair for a few moments before pulling back. Something doesn’t feel right, settling uncomfortably in his stomach as he makes his way to Lois’ bed, taking the dishes he’d left from food they’d made earlier into the kitchen, starting to run some water to clean off the stacks of plates from their day in. “Do you believe them? The articles and the – things they’re saying?” Clark finally asks Lois, pouring some soap into the water and immediately watching it bubble up, seeing the steam from the water starting to float up toward him. “You obviously don’t, because why would you still be with me,” Clark says after a moment, feeling a little ridiculous he’d even asked. “It’s like I –” he pauses, sucking in a deep breath, clearly frustrated; not with Lois, never with Lois, but with everything else, “it’s like Superman can’t do anything right. One minute, he’s a hero and the next he’s painted as a villain.”
the redhead nodded her head with a grin on her lips. It is rare for anyone to see Lois like this. To see the happy, carefree side of her. The side that can have fun. That enjoys cuddling and wearing her boyfriend’s hoodies. The side that allows anyone to see that she is - in fact, human. And not the machine the world of journalism thinks her to be. The side that everyone is used to, the famous Pulitzer winner, the woman not afraid to stick her head into the jaws of death to find the truth. She was that. All of that. But you cannot be the strong, independent journalist all the time - everyone needs a break.
Lois laughed softly at Clark’s comment about that being interesting. It sure would be. To see her standing on a chair only because she wanted to be taller. How much more childish could you get? That was something that Clark brought out of her. A little spark of happiness, of joy in the simplest things in life. The redhead rarely thought about her past, about how she dove in head-first into any work Perry would offer her, not wanting to think about just how sad and lonely her personal life was. And it was silly to admit that, even to Clark.
“Do I believe who?” The redhead asked, arching a brow as she paused in mid-act, her hand freezing before it could reach her favorite mug to prepare herself a cup of coffee. Suddenly the light atmosphere of the morning became heavier, a little thicker, making her sigh softly. Lois bit on the inside of her cheek, watching Clark silently as he spoke, talked to himself asking and answering questions. She understood where he was coming from. She really did. Being out there in public, searching for news to write about there were people who thought her to be doing good - but there also was a crowd of those who did not like her. Not at all. She could only imagine what it would escalate to when it came to Clark.
“I don’t believe them.” Lois replied simply, tilting her head as her soft voice filled the silence around them “As journalists we should know that not everyone tells the truth.” She pointed out before nodding her head “People are idiots, Clark.” Lois added with a shrug of her shoulders “We cannot appreciate what we have, a helping hand, someone who does the dirty work for us - it is so much easier to be arguing and saying bad things.” She began, leaning against the kitchen counter “But that does not mean everyone thinks so. There are people who love Superman no matter what bullshit is displayed on the news. People who believe in you, people who pray for you.” The redhead softly added, reaching out her hand to delicately cup Clark’s cheek “You need to prevail. For them. For the people who love you.”
