LOIS | at the Kent farm, post ZSJL | @reportcrlady
It was a bit of an ordeal, the way moving always was. All the furniture was still slightly askew, boxes piled on the porch and half-open inside the kitchen. Sawdust was still littered in the grass from where John had been cutting new planks, and there would be more joining it later in the day. Most of the cooking implements were nowhere to be found and the fridge was still empty, so it’d be their second day of eating out. Or, takeout, as the case may be.
When Clark opened his eyes, the sky was still that dark blue stretched over the horizons, gold light holding its breath before creeping over the edge of the treeline, a distant smudge way off. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. Then he pulled himself out from under the covers, feet on the old, flat carpet before he started getting dressed. He heard a shift behind him, sheets rustling.
“Hey, Lo,” he said, his voice pitched low and quiet. “It’s our turn to get breakfast for everyone, so probably time to head into town.” He settled his jacket over his shoulders, before turning back to look at her, his gaze fond. The creeping, barely-there light through the drawn curtains gave the room a dim edge to the shadows. “I’ll come with you, if you still want.”
He would just go into town and pick them up himself, but there was still a headstone for him in Smallville Cemetery, and it made things complicated. John hadn’t seemed too surprised to see him, but then again, he didn’t seem to be surprised by anything. A few farms away, Clark could hear chickens starting to wake up. His Ma was down the hall and Bruce had stubbornly put himself on the couch downstairs, and John would be back later in the morning, probably. It’d be easier to juggle five breakfasts and coffees between the two of them.
