bridge

Clark worked right next to you. Literally right next to you. No one at the Daily Planet was willing to move their desk that they'd been sitting at for years, even for the sake of your well-being. Your best friend Lois tried not to laugh and Jimmy gave you headphones as if they could solve the problem of Clark being stuck in your mind 24/7.

He would usually get to the office a few minutes late. Coffee in one hand and a stack of notes in the other. He smiled at everyone on the way in. Even you. How he could be so casual about your breakup was unknown, but it gave you hope.

Which you hated.

It had been nearly six months since the breakup and you still noticed every small detail about him. The way his glasses would always slip down his face when he was focused on his work. You could recognize his laugh when he was in a different room. When you would end up on the front page you'd turn to him ready to share the exciting news, forgetting he wasn't yours to tell anymore.

You hated how he was so normal about it all. Never cold, never angry, the same old Clark you once knew inside and out. The same man you once told your secrets too and the same one you imagined growing old with.

As if five years together was folded nicely and put right into a drawer.

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By 8 o'clock, the office looked completely different.

The constant ringing of phones had stopped hours ago and the lights were dimmed. The light of the skyline glowed beyond the windows with white and yellow lights filling the night.

You should have left by now. Instead you were stuck staring at a half-finished article that wasn't gonna write itself.

A yawn escaped as you rubbed your eyes.

"You know," an all too familiar voice came from behind you "most people would've called it a night by now."

You froze.

Clark.

You hadn't realized everyone else had left.

Looking around the office you see empty desks and abandoned coffee cups left on desks from the busy morning. The realization of it hit.

It was just the two of you.

"Some of us don't have first hand experience in the latest Superman story, you know." you muttered. Your words slipped out before you could stop them.

Clark laughed softly.

The sound hit you like a flood of memories.

For a moment, neither of you had any words.

You continued to focus on your screen. Clark focused on his. The silence between the two of you wasn't uncomfortable, just familiar.

After a few moments, Clark got up from his desk and made his way to the break room. You tried not to watch him walk away but failed.

He returned with two cups.

One was placed beside your keyboard.

Your stomach flipped.

"You still take it with two sugars?" Of course he remembered. Six months and he still remembered.

You stared at the cup.

"Yeah"

"Good."

A simple exchange that shouldn't have hurt, but somehow it did. It reminded you of the time you once shared together. The time he once knew everything about you.

Your favorite movie.

The songs you'd sing in the shower.

The exact face you would make when you watched a sad movie.

He knew you. Every inch of you.

That's what made losing him even worse.

The time on the clock ticked slower than usual.

8:17

8:18

8:19

"Clark"

He stopped typing.

"Yeah?"

You swallowed hard, almost regretting saying the name running through your mind for months.

You told yourself to not ask it, but you do anyway.

"Do you ever think about us?"

The time had felt like it stopped now. The room felt thicker, too small for the two of you.

He slowly turned toward you.

For the first time in months you looked each other in the eyes. He looked more tired than you've ever seen him. More vulnerable.

"Everyday."

Your breath hitched.

Because for the first time since you broke up, he sounded just as heartbroken as you.

The confession hung in the air for a moment. 

You just stared, trying to decide if this made things better or worse.

You wanted to ask another hundred questions.

Clark cleared his throat.

"Its getting late"

You glanced towards the windows and back at your computer.

"Come on" Clark smilies faintly.

"What?"

"Home"

"I think I know how to get to my own house, Clark"

His smile only grew.

"I wasn't questioning your sense of direction"

You roll your eyes.

"Then what are you questioning?"

"Your ability to stay awake."

As if on cue, you let out a slight yawn.

The two of you laughed just like old times. You grabbed your bag before getting up and following Clark to the elevator.

The ride down was quiet. Strangely quiet.

You couldn't remember the last time you had spent this much time with Clark.

Outside, the city still buzzed with life despite the late hour. Cars still filled the streets and neon signs still lit up the sidewalk.

You start walking the direction of your apartment, only to hear footsteps following you. You look behind to see Clark.

"What are you doing?"

"Walking"

"You live the other way, Clark."

"I know."

You fought the urge to smile at him.

"You don't need to walk me home."

"I know."

He responded immediately to you, as if there wasn't any other option.

It made your stomach twist.

For years he had walked you home every time you worked late. Sometimes talking the whole way and sometimes in comfortable silence. Tonight felt like once of those same memories. Neither of your mentioned how familiar it felt though.

Halfway to your apartment, Clark pointed to a small food cart on the corner.

"You still like those pretzels?"

"You remember?"

"You bought one every time we passed this street"

"That is so not true" you laugh

"It absolutely is"

The fact he remembered something so small made your heart ache even more. Forgetting would've been easier for both of you.

By the time the apartment came into view you wished the walk had been longer.

A dangerous thought.

One you definitely shouldn't be having about your ex.

Clark stopped at the bottom of the steps.

For a moment neither of you moved.

"Well" you said

"Well" he echoed quickly after.

You hated how nervous this made you feel.

"Thanks for walking me home"

"Anytime" he said naturally

Not you're welcome not goodnight

Anytime

Like he planned on being there. Like he still wanted to be there.

Clark looked away first.

"Goodnight."

You watched him turn and start down the sidewalk.

Somehow seeing him walk away was worse than spending all day sitting next to him. Maybe because for twenty minutes it felt like nothing had changed.

And now it was over again.

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