#angst-ish

The Head knows how much she was holding herself back from dragging your ass back to her side by blackmailing you and ruining your life, but unfortunately that wouldn't do.

If she was struggling this much over you breaking up with her, Alfonso doubts she has the strength to deal with you hating her. Her having power on you and thus facing you to pretend that you loved her wouldn't even mean anything now, not when she knows what your genuine love and care for her — something she hasn't felt since the death of Stephanette — feels like.

So it's with a forced smile and a bitter feeling that she allows you to leave her side. It's with a dread she hasn't felt before that she allows you to quit working for K Corp while putting in a good word for you to increase the chances of you being hired elsewhere. Somewhere worse, undoubtedly.

Alfonso doesn't let this be farewell though, she couldn't handle that either.

She sends people to spy on you in hopes of bad news regarding your new life so that she can swoop in to save you just as she had when she first got with you. Unfortunately for her, you seem to be doing well and taking the breakup much better than her. Hell, you seemed to be thriving without Alfonso by your side.

All this time she thought herself to be cruel, but you moving on se easily from her proved that you were the cruel one in her eyes.

In the end, there's nothing much she can do besides drowning herself in her work and wallowing in her misery as she hopelessly waits for you to return to her.

Some Wing CEO she is.

Taking the sheets from him, you nodded. “I’ll give them a read.”

You’d worked at The Daily Planet since you’d left University. You’d started out as Cat Grant’s assistant until Mr White needed someone to write an article on a book that had been sent to him. The author was relatively new but he’d decided to give them a shot. 

He had planned on giving the task to Cat, until you walked into the office and found the book on his desk. 

“For all I know, it’s another Cinderella romance but I’d like you to write a piece on it. 500 words? It doesn’t have to be too much.”

“It’s not.”

They both looked at you. It wasn’t often you spoke up when you were in meetings. More than anything, you were quiet and got on with your job. You also had the ability to avoid hitting people when you walked through the office, which made hiring you a lot easier for Mr White than it did hiring anyone else. 

“Excuse me?”

Your weight shifted from foot to foot. “W-Well, it-it’s not a Cinderella romance. I’ve read it. It’s about a woman’s journey returning home after a tragedy. I-I mean, it does have romance. She falls in love with her best friend of, like, ten years. But it’s mostly about her journey dealing with grief, past mistakes and new opportunities.”

Both Mr White and Cat looked at you stunned. But as they looked back at each other, they seemed to have a silent conversation. Then Mr White smiled. Looking up at you, he shook the book at you. 

“I want you to write me a piece on this book.”

“Sir-”

“You’ve clearly read it. Write me a piece. If I like it, and more importantly, if the public likes it…I’ll hire you as a full time entertainment journalist. I’ve got more books than I know what to do with. ‘Course, you’ll do more than just write about books, but…”

Cat looked at you with a kinder smile than you’d seen on her face before. 

“S-Sir, I-I don’t know if that’s-”

“She’ll do it.”

Leaving the office, you followed behind Cat. “A-Are you sure? I don’t know if-”

Stopping in her tracks with a sigh, she turned on her heels and faced you. “You didn’t apply here just to be my assistant. And I’ve read some of your work.”

“You have?”

“You sent in two articles, right? When you applied?”

You nodded. 

“You can do this. Now go and do it.”

Four years later, you’d gained the nickname ‘Bookworm’, you had your own desk and you spent most of your time reading and writing reviews. 

“What is it today? Romance? True Crime? Fantasy?”

Looking over your book, you found Clark Kent leaning on the wooden divider between your desk and Cat’s. You got a promotion, but considering you already had a desk, you didn’t need to be moved. 

You smiled. “You’re back. When did you get back?”

“Just now.”

“Did Lois get what she wanted?”

Clark nodded with a smile as he pulled a chair up to your desk. “And more. I think the janitor will still be shaking from her interrogation in a week’s time.”

You felt yourself laugh a little.

“So what are you reading?”

“Oh,” holding up your book, you showed him and he read it. 

“Any good?”

You shrugged. “It’s a non-fiction lifestyle. Right now I’d rather be fighting dragons on top of mountains.”

Clark laughed. “I’m sure I would, too.”

“But, it’s not too bad. It’s not as condescending as the last one. It’s got a little more science behind it than just someone’s opinion. Did you know the brain is the fattiest organ in the body?”

“I did not.”

“And that we need the healthy fats from fish to help stabilise the cell walls in it?”

Clark nodded, leaning on your desk a little. “Sounds interesting.”

“Those parts are. The others are just kinda…meh.”

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go and get some coffee or something. There’s something I want to show you.”

You studied him for a moment. “Show me what?”

“You’ll see.”

Looking at your desk. Your article was finished and you’d almost finished with your book. You could do with a break. 

“Okay.”

“Great.”

As you stood with Clark, you felt yourself lean forward and grip your desk. “Ow.”

“You okay?”

You just nodded. “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Clark sounded worried. “Bookworm, you’re looking a little pale. Are you sure?”

Taking a few deep breaths, you stood up straight. “I’m okay. Just…that time of the month.”

“Oh…” Clark didn’t know what to say exactly. 

“I’m okay, let’s just keep walking. It’ll pass.”

Clark nodded and you grabbed your jacket from your chair before following him towards the elevator and out into the city. 

“You know, we don’t have to do this today if you’d rather just-”

“Clark,” you smiled. “Honestly, I’m fine. It’s not uncommon for me. It can just be abrupt sometimes. But I’m okay.”

“Promise?”

You nodded. “Promise.”

Clark gave you a smile and you felt your insides warm. 

It was often like that when he smiled at you. A warm feeling would spread through you, just after a swarm of butterflies had flapped their wings. In complete honesty, you hadn’t noticed it at first. It wasn’t until after the fifth guy you’d been set up on a date with by Cat and she asked you why, that you realised. 

The guy had been…okay. Out of the five, number three was probably the closest to who you’d dated in the past. He seemed a little more your type. But still…nothing. 

“Well, what are you looking for? I can’t keep sending men your way if you’re not gonna go on another date with them.”

“You could stop trying to set me up.”

“But you need life experience! You need someone who isn’t King Lancelot on Treasure Island.”

You smiled. “I think you mean King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. And Treasure Island is a separate book.”

Cat rolled her eyes. “My point is, you need someone who isn’t…fictional. You need someone who makes you feel something.”

“But they do make me feel something. Some books are actually pretty sad.”

A small groan left Cat. “You need someone who can actually touch you. Someone who isn’t just words on a page. Did you not feel anything? Not even for Roger?”

You bit your lip, scrunched your nose and shook your head. “Not really.”

“Not even a single butterfly?”

You shook your head. 

“But he was so cute.”

You nodded. “He was cute…to you. I-I just…didn’t feel anything. He was good looking. Just not my type.”

“Then who is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. Handsome. I can’t explain it.”

Cat sat back with a sigh but as she looked around the office, she seemed to have a glint in her eye. “What about Clark?”

“What about him?”

“Do you think he’s handsome? You spent a lot of time together? Is it him? Is he why you won’t go on a second date with Roger?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “I didn’t go on a second date with Roger because he spent the entire date talking about how to extract a rotten tooth.”

Cat finally dropped the subject. “Fine. But when you finally want a date, don’t ask me to help you find one.”

You smiled but her previous question played on your mind. Why would she think it was Clark? Sure, he was handsome. That wasn’t avoidable in describing him. And he was smart. And kind. Caring. Friendly. And maybe once or twice you’d wished you’d faked an excuse so you could have been at home, watching a movie with him. 

But was he the reason?

The answer was yes. 

By the time a week had passed from Cat asking you her question, it became apparent. You had feelings for Clark. You always had. Because your reaction was always the same. Butterflies – which you’d mistaken for nerves about being at work. Then he’d smile. A warmth would spread through you, settling the flapping wings before finally you felt your cheeks warm up, too. 

 And you were feeling that warmth again. 

Clark was smiling at you, leaning against a concrete post as he watched you take it all in. 

After grabbing two coffees from the cart on the corner of the street, you’d both walked for twenty minutes before you’d arrived at a warehouse. It looked beaten up, but the locks had been freshly broken. 

Inside, there were mountains of books. 

Old rickety shelving units lined the walls and slotted into places that health and safety regulations would probably disapprove of. In the very centre, there were piles of books. Some, looking at them, dated back centuries. A lot of them were still 20th century, but had enough dust on their covers that could easily tell its own story about the second world war. 

“How did you find this place?”

“A case Lois and I worked on last year called and said they’d finally finished processing everything. They didn’t know what to do with them since most of the libraries don’t have the space for them.” Clark explained. “So, they’re here until they find a new home. But I asked if a very avid reader I knew could have the first pick.”

You looked back at him, a wide smile still on your face. Clark lifted himself from the pillar and walked towards you. 

“I don’t even know…what to say.”

You tried taking a mental image of so many books being in one place. 

“I feel like I’m in Beauty and The Beast.”

“Does that make me the Beast?”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re too handsome to be the Beast.”

The comment slipped from your lips before you could think about it. Even if it was true, the clear embarrassment on your face only made you feel worse. 

You weren’t like Cat or Lois. You couldn’t recover from saying something, no matter how true, very quickly. By the time you had recovered from the initial embarrassment, more was likely to come because you’d then realise the person you’d just said something to had heard you and the meaning. 

Looking away, you heard a small chuckle escape Clark. Then his hands landed on your shoulders. 

“I think it might be best if you start in that corner.” Clark turned your attention back to the books. “I think every book ever printed is in here.”

With a smile, having let the moment pass, you walked over and into the far corner. 

“How was there a crime with this many books that I didn’t know about?” You asked after forty minutes of swimming in the books. 

Your coat had long since been removed and hung on a piece of broken shelf, along with Clark's own, that he had found. Somewhere in the middle of the pile, Clark was piling books together by genre. 

“I think you were away at that conference in London.” Clark told you.

“So what happened?”

“A group of guys had been robbing a few places in and around the city. Banks, jewelry stores, and a couple of storage facilities. Then they’d got wind of a storage facility holding diamonds,” he said. “Anyway, they went down there but when they opened the unit, they found books. Just piles and piles of books. But, they still thought there were diamonds but they’d been hidden. Just so happens, they didn’t realise how long it would take to look through so many books and by the time they’d gotten barely a quarter of the way through, a lady who was walking her dog across the field saw the door open and called the police.”

“So what happened to the diamonds?”

“They were being held at a facility on the other side of the city. But, the cops couldn’t take their chances so had to process every book and make sure there weren’t any hidden pockets.”

You laughed as you looked over at Clark – that same smile giving you a warm feeling. There he stood, surrounded by books, even holding on in his hands, his shirt sleeves rolled, his tie loose and his hair a little dishevelled. But that smile on his face as he looked at you. 

You turned back to the pile of books. “You know, I’m probably gonna be here a while. You don’t have to stay. I’m sure there’s somewhere else you’d rather spend your day.”

Clark just shrugged. “I’ve not got any plans. Besides, I think I’d rather be spending my time with you, anyway.”

You laughed a little, placing one book down and picking up another. “Don’t let my mother hear you say that. She might think you’re in love with me, then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You didn’t see, but Clark looked at you again; a warm smile on his face, but a slightly defeated look in his eye. You said it as if it was a bad thing. Like he shouldn’t be in love with you. 

But he was. 

He had been since you’d turned up outside his apartment, to welcome him to the building, with a fresh apple pie. You’d seemed so much more confident than you had been at work. At work, he’d noticed you. But nobody else seemed to have done. You avoided their every step making sure not to physically run into them; something he himself was still trying to master. You were quiet. In staff meetings, you were the same. But you were always tapping your pen against your pad – until you noticed the noise. Then you’d hold it with two hands. But unconsciously, you’d bounce your leg beneath the desk. The pen would twist around in your hands as Mr White and everyone turned their attention on you. 

But the woman standing outside of his apartment seemed…more confident. Or maybe you just had a quicker escape since you’d been speaking in a hallway rather than a staff meeting with a dozen other people. 

“I-I don’t know if it’ll be any good. It’s a family recipe but my Granny still tells me it tastes different every time. I’m still trying to work out if that means something good.” You finally looked at him as you handed the pie over. “Anyway, I live directly above you if you need anything. Bye.”

You’d gone to run away and make your exit, but he called you back. He thanked you for the pie and invited you inside. If slightly awkwardly, you agreed. But with one conversation, Clark found you warming to him. 

After that, you both kind of became inseparable. It was a quiet friendship; the kind that doesn’t need a thousand conversations to know something. In a single look, Clark could tell what you were trying to say. In a single look, you could tell what Clark was trying to do. 

On more than one occasion you’d saved him from Cat’s grasp. And on more than one occasion, he’d helped you escape a large gathering of people. 

But it was one evening, just like any other, where he let himself accept his feelings for you. He’d rented the next film on the list you’d been given from Mr White. From new films, to older ones. 

“There’s a whole range of ages reading our papers, Y/l/n. Even if the movies have been out for years, I want a piece to put in the paper. Capture the kids' attention. Let them know about real movies.” Of course, Mr White had given you a list of Elvis films alongside the list from the local movie theatre. 

But, as you and Clark sat watching Annie, you’d fallen asleep. Laying beside him, your head on his shoulder, he lifted his arm behind you and pulled the blanket down over you. You’d had a busy day at the paper and seemed ready to fall asleep before you turned up at his apartment. But the feeling in his chest when he looked down at you, cuddling into his side…his mind thought, for a moment, that it was a routine. That you lived together, that each night would be the same. You by his side, him by yours. 

He couldn’t deny the feelings he had for you then. 

And he couldn’t deny them now. 

“Would it really be that bad?”

“What would? My mother?”

“Me being in love with you?” Clark waited to see your reaction. 

You laughed. 

Not mockingly. But you laughed. 

You didn’t believe him. 

“Funny,” you told him. Then you stood, holding another book in your hand. Clark watched as you stood and started completing the new obstacle course you’d accidentally laid out for yourself as you made your way over to him. “But seriously, my mother would never leave me alone. She’s convinced that if I don’t get married soon, I never will. You know, I think if she could, she’d hand my face out on a leaflet on the street to take auditions.”

As you climbed over the loaded pile of books, your foot slipped. But you never hit the ground. Some of the books slid to the floor, but you remained on the pile, Clark’s arms around you. 

Holding onto his arm, you looked down at the sliding books and back at him. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Clark gave you a light smile, his eyes scanning over your face. “What if I wanted the role?”

“What?”

“You said your mom would hold auditions.” Clark pointed out. “What if I wanted the role?”

It took you a minute before what Clark was telling you registered in your brain. 

Standing once more, but Clark still holding you steady, your eyes remained fixed on him. You shook your head. “Clark, you don’t…you shouldn’t date me.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Clark felt himself laugh. ‘Because’  has never been a real reason. “Because what?”

“Because…” You racked your brains for an answer he would accept. “Because you shouldn’t. You should be with someone…with someone…with someone like Lois. Or Cat.”

He tilted his head a little. “Please tell me you heard yourself, too.”

“Okay, maybe not Cat. But Lois. Or Jill.”

“From accounting?”

“She’s nice. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. Everything you deserve.”

“Y/n, you’re beautiful, smart and funny.” Clark told you. “And you’re kind and caring.”

“Clark.”

Clark felt something drop inside of him. “If it’s because you don’t want to, then I’ll understand.”

But you were quick to deny that. “No,” you shook your head. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

As you stood there, his hands holding your steady, your own on his arms, you looked at him. Clark had been the one person you’d been able to tell anything to. You trusted him more than you trusted anyone. Even from the beginning. 

So why couldn’t you trust him with the truth now?

“I’m scared, Clark. This…this scares me.” You finally admitted the truth to him. “I’ve had relationships before and they’ve all found a reason to leave. I don’t want you to leave, too.”

“I’m not gonna leave.”

“You can’t promise that.”

Then he said something that struck you deep into your soul. “Actually, I can.”

You looked at him as if he had two heads, but he just chuckled, holding you a little closer. “Anyone who has ever left you, have been complete idiots. You are truly incredible, Y/n. And I have been in love with you longer than I think even I realise. But despite that, you’re my friend first, Y/n. And I don’t want to lose that either.”

Looking at you, Clark told you the complete truth. 

“So when I tell you I can promise you I won’t leave, please know that I mean it. And I mean it, too, when I tell you I love you. In more ways than one.”

You smiled. 

In his chest, Clark felt a bright light shoot through him and warm his entire being. Leaning forward a little, you hugged him. And he hugged you back. 

Leaning back and looking at him again, you spoke. 

“Can we start towards the beginning?”

Clark nodded and smiled. “Y/n, would you like to go to dinner with me?”

“I’d love to.” 

Like a breath of fresh air was being kicked into his lungs, Clark smiled a little wider. But then you surprised him. You kissed his cheek. 

This time, it was his moment to slip a little. But in a rush, you gripped onto him as he caught himself. Then you got an idea. 

“You don’t suppose this could be classed as a first date, do you?” You looked around you before looking back at him. “I mean, I know it’s a warehouse and it’s filled with dusty old books, but I guess the lighting is kinda dimmed? And we’re surrounded by history so it’s kinda like a library-museum thing? Unless there’s classification for something to be a date. There’s gotta be a book in here somewhere that tells us.”

Clark chuckled a little as he watched you. “I think I’d like to class this as our first date, too. Besides, we can always get dinner after this.”

You nodded. “Though, to do that, we should probably get off these books.”

Clark looked down. “Right.”

Carefully, he helped you down the cascade of books before your heels finally hit the concrete ground and with a soft landing, he landed beside you. 

It was another two hours before you both got food – the pizza guy, it was safe to say, was rather confused to turn up at a warehouse but he appreciated the tip and the gift copy of one of his sister’s favourite books. 

Yourself and Clark spent most of the night inside the warehouse before he helped you place your reserved books to the side. The next day, you both returned with your car and a pile of boxes to help carry them away. You’d barely made a dent in the pile, but considering you had access to the pile until the local libraries needed extra copies, you could spend as long as you liked going through them. 

Picking out some of the multiple copies with broken spines or torn covers, you took home and fixed them. And, six months into dating, you came to find Clark’s unique strength had its advantages as working as a temporary clamp. 

“This is why you agreed to date me, isn’t it?”

You gasped a little. “You’ve discovered my secret. Well, now that it’s out in the open, you should know I also agreed because you gave me a historical library.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.”

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your lips but you pulled him back in for a second. “I love you.”