#xeph's asks

eight lots of sutures, two ruined shirts, a broken shoelace and a pair of wet socks later, carter was ready to call it quits and head home feigning sick. he had already been here thirteen hours anyway, it wasn't like he had just showed up and felt like leaving early for the sake of it.

the sight of you made him envious. you look as good as you did when you pulled up to pick him up from the kerb thirteen hours ago. you'd been practically living in the hospital's on-call room since yesterday, but you looked so lively that it was hard to believe you'd been here that long.

your scrubs still looked pristine, but that was only because your bloodied ones had been discarded a few hours ago after a cyclist trauma rolled through the doors. there was the tiniest amount of frizz sticking up from the back of your ponytail, but overall your smile said a thousand things that blinded him into oblivion. maybe that was why you looked so refreshing.

the lights dimmed, the faded roar he could hear faintly in the background raising the hairs on the back of his neck with suddenly proximity until he found himself face-down on the floor, the stool he had been sitting on to mindlessly fill out paperwork skidding away from him until it hit the nearest gurney.

was the power out? he thought briefly before swarming clouds of dizziness flooded his line of sight, building up a blurriness that canceled out the harsh hospital lights. black spots swam across his vision, a distant groan slipping past his lips, and a very warm set of hands brushing across his face in the gentlest manner.

your silhouette blocked out the remaining light that filtered through the dark spots, and a dizzy smile pulled his lips upwards.

"CARTER," you called out, fishing your penlight out of your pocket and flashing it across his eyes. he flinched away from the light and tried to roll onto his side.

your heart had sank when one of the patients admitted under carter's care earlier had shoved wendy out of the way to pick up his IV stand and bash it over carter's head, shouting something about his results taking too long or something . . . you had ignored it completely with sudden tunnel vision because john carter was on the fucking floor bleeding from his head. you had been the first to his side and he had relaxed his head into your hands so tenderly that if you weren't so worried you probably would've noticed it clearer.

"jesus," you huffed, looking up from carter to where the aggressive patient was still kicking and screaming. "someone sedate him and help me out over here!"

you were strong but you weren't strong enough to pick up carter's borderline-dead weight. you half-hoisted him up and then let mark help support the rest of him until he was placed on the gurney carol had rolled over.

"okay, uh," you looked around the ER until you spotted deb helping the nurses pick up medical supplies that the patient had knocked across the floor. "move him into exam room 2, please."

"got it," carol smiled before helping mark guide a groaning carter away.

carter was probably fine, you knew that much. at most, he'd likely have a concussion and a bump on his head for a week or so . . . you were hoping it wouldn't become your problem.

knowing mark greene, it probably would become your problem.

THE EXAM WAS BRIEF. you quickly cleared that it wasn't anything serious, nothing more than a moderate concussion and some bleeding from a gash on the back of his head.

"am i dying, doc?" carter's voice was fluttery from the morphine. his eyelashes fluttered in a similar fashion, blinking his glassy eyes open and shut, following your every movement.

you scoffed, "baby."

"aw," carter pointed a finger at you like he knew something you didn't. "how sweet of you. look at you, being so lovely."

"no," you deadpanned, rolling your eyes and desperately trying to stop the smile that was threatening to pull your lips upwards. "i'm calling you a baby. i know toddlers who let me check for injuries better than you did."

carter waved it off, hardly remembering the way he whined and moaned about needing morphine before he 'perished'. it was quite the entertainment. "my brain hurts, okay? you try getting . . . wait," he paused, squinting before wincing. "what happened again?"

"one of your kind patients bashed you over the head with an IV stand," you said it simply, writing a few notes down on carter's chart attached to your clipboard as if it wasn't a big deal that this incident had occurred. you were absolutely not going to be telling him that you had been worried and therefore nonchalance was key. "and you have a moderate concussion and are gonna need stitches."

"stitches?" he sighed and shook his head. you hadn't had the time to properly close up the wound when examining him earlier, and you used a temporary fix until you could go find one of the med students. "speaking of . . . which med student do you want? or d'you want me to randomly pick one?"

carter paled impossibly further. "don't you dare."

"what?" you flashed him an innocent smile. "they have to learn at some point."

"and that learning will not be on my head, thank you," carter's lips were pulled into the straightest line you had ever seen. you couldn't help but let a chuckle slip when he crossed his arms and sunk back into his fluffed pillow. "can you do it?"

you sighed, "carter, i'm busy. your patients are now my patients and—"

"please?"

he was doing this annoying pouty thing with his face. his glassy eyes looked so wide and innocent, tears collecting carefully in his waterline like a weapon. you were stupidly falling for it just like every other stupid thing he did in your presence.

how could you say no to that face?

"fuck me," you grumbled under your breath, shaking your head. "fine, whatever, but you owe me the second your concussion is gone."

"mhm," he hummed, deep in thought as he stared ahead at the white wall across the room. "would a nice dinner suffice?" he asked, and you kept quiet to stop your smile from appearing in front of his eyes.

CARTER was brave the second the suture kit came out.

it was like a switch had been flipped and he was suddenly convinced that he wasn't dying . . . you had a feeling him wanting to take you out to dinner had something to do with that.

he liked watching you do sutures, and so it was a shame that he couldn't watch you do his. there was something so magical about your hands and their steadiness; something about the way you could do them so perfect every time that when patients came back to have them removed, there was hardly a visible mark. he envied it to some degree, but he made it his goal to do them just like you instead.

you impressed him every single day, and he wanted to do the same thing back by not being a baby about his injury.

"you doing okay?" you asked quietly, checking in for the fifth time since you had started. you were taking a little longer to perfect his, wanting them to perfect so that he hardly got a gnarly scar.

carter scoffed like it didn't even bother him. "me? yeah, totally fine. this is nothing at all. doesn't even hurt."

that's because you are literally numb, you thought, rolling your eyes and tying another knot. you smiled now that he couldn't see you, "aw, so you don't want me to kiss it all better for you, dr. carter?"

he spluttered, and you were smart to stop stitching him up when he started moving. "that's not— i wasn't— i mean . . . but—"

your laugh was airy, light and carefree in its quietness. "i'm fucking with you."

"so . . ." carter said after a moment of silence. "you . . . don't want to kiss me? i mean— you don't want to kiss it better, then?" you could see his frown and it made your heart beat a little faster.

"mhm," you hummed, focusing back in on his wound. "take me out to that dinner first."

"clark."

he cringed, face contorting like it had when he accidentally flew straight into a bird the other day and had to pluck feathers from his mouth. this was almost as unpleasant.

"aw, sorry, sweetheart," he grimaced, face equivalent to a deer caught in headlights. "i didn't mean—"

"i woke up when you decided i needed a personal x-ray," she said bluntly, forever so. her eyes were still closed as if she hadn't stirred from sleep at all. once again, another thing he didn't quite understand, but it was rather unhelpful that she was aware when he decided to be all overprotective boyfriend and use his x-ray eyes for something useful. his train of thought pause — it was only now that clark noticed the large bruise around her eye, so dark and fresh it was almost black. "i'm fine, clark."

"golly!" he exclaimed, practically leaping over the end of the bed until he was beside her, trying his best not to land on top of her to cause any further injury. with gentle hands he cupped her jaw, forcing her head in his direction. her eyes blinked open at the feeling of his hands, locking onto a point on the ceiling so she could focus on his voice entirely. "what on earth . . ."

she grumbled something that ended in more of a whine than anything else. "i'm fine," she repeated, a huff exhaling past her lips. "please, it's nothing."

clark was absolutely not letting that go. now that he knew these injuries were from being who the public had dubbed daredevil and weren't some freak accident where she clumsily fell down the stairs, he was a lot more attentive than before. prior to this, she could brush it off and he would worry from afar while keeping his eye on her to make sure he didn't catch it happening. he liked knowing the truth about her but gosh it made him worry so much more.

"what happened?" it wasn't a stern demand, but a gentle ask that left minimal room for argument. it didn't help her case when she sensed his head tilt like an adorable puppy, the weight of his quiet words engraved into her heart.

"i've been following this lead on a group of missing kids for months," she admitted, reaching out her hand to search for his own. he find hers like a missing piece of a puzzle. "there's this weird underground trade in experiments and the trail goes cold every time i get too close."

"lexcorp?" clark asked. lex luthor had made his hatred for metahumans clear but even he couldn't be ruled out when he was still staging a manhunt on superman. he had already created one metahuman that they knew of to take on the task of eliminating him, it was always possible that he was funding the path for more.

she shrugged. "not sure. i don't think it's properly affiliated but it still could be luthor's money going into it. the trail went from metropolis to gotham and then back here but now it's cold again."

"and . . ." clark raised his thumb to brush her cheek just below the bruise.

she smiled offhandedly. "ran into a few guys that were part of the operation on remington street, just near the metro palace theatre."

"hm," he hummed, eyes flickering up to the ceiling in thought. "mind if i take a look tomorrow?"

"if you want," she shrugged, squeezing his hand. "as long as you keep your distance . . . don't want the trail to go cold again."

"and i don't really want you chasing down these guys but . . . what say do i have?" he shook his head slowly. "you're gonna be the death of me i think."

"aw," she rolled back up into a ball under the blankets, attempting to get comfortable now as tiredness sunk deep into her bones. "i'll proudly wear that title, y'know? imagine if i get to be known as the person who killed superman."

it was a joke, one that had giggles tumbling straight from his lips as he curled back up under the blankets beside her, encompassing her in the warmth of his large frame. "well, i'm not about to let anyone else kill me," he added. she rolled so that she was facing his direction, and all he could do was fixate on the torturous sight of her eye. "just let me properly look at your eye . . ." he turned on the puppy dog eyes that were like second nature, "please?"

in response, she rolled her eyes, ignoring the subtle pulsing pain at the movement. "if you keep x-raying me, i'm gonna end up with more radiation than chernobyl," she then sighed. "if you must."

"i must," clark decided promptly. he thoroughly looked through muscle and tissue to at least make sure that her skull was still intact. "okay . . . no skull fracture."

i know, she thought but didn't say, not wanting to undermine him and his thoughtfulness. "i'll get it looked at in the morning if it'll make you feel better," she said, to which clark hummed in agreement and pulled her closer into him.

"thanks," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her hairline and letting his eyes fall closed. "how did you know i was x-raying you, by the way?"

he felt her chest bubble with silent laughter. "there's this weird staticky noise," she admitted, and he nodded to himself when he realised it was too quiet for even him to hear. "and my bones feel scratchy, like pins are scraping across them.

"oh . . ." he trailed off, as genuinely surprised as he always was whenever she told him a new little detail about her senses. "good to know."

"goodnight, clark," she huffed lightly, knowing that the longer she entertained this, the longer she would be without sleep. he could keep a conversation going for hours until he realised that he should probably join her in sleeping purely because he knew she needed rest to function like anyone else unlike him.

he tried the usual things. he cleaned the apartment at human speed to make it drag out longer. he put an old rock record on the turntable to fill the empty space. he prepared dinner and set everything in the fridge so it was easy to throw together when she got home. he even got his clothes out for the next day and reviewed notes he had taken so he could start the following day at the office with a focused mind.

that was getting boring.

clark kent wasn't a jealous person. he never had been. he grew up in a loving family that humbled every aspect of his superhuman abilities until he could function like every one else on the surface. they spoiled him with love and taught him important values that he held close to his heart today. they worked him on the farm until he no longer felt the anger and frustration at being different and therefore being able to show who he really was to people.

jealousy therefore didn't register. he worked hard for everything he achieved. he got good grades and used those to get into a good university. he used all the HDs he got in his degree to propel him into an internship that eventually got him enough credit to be working for the daily planet. with that, he became such an established investigative journalist that he got to follow one of the most important metahuman trials in the city, one offered to him before lois lane got a chance to jump at it, which then got him in with his girlfriend; the absolute love of his life. he worked so incredibly hard for everything he had ever achieved in every part of his life, so why would he ever need to be jealous?

the reason for his jealousy came not from the reason she was spending so much time in the office, but from who she was spending so much time with. his name was lucas and he was the new paralegal. he was a few years younger than her and was known around metropolis as a damn good paralegal. he had been up for grabs and every law firm had down their best to tie him down, but ultimately it had been her law firm to seal the deal.

he was efficient, and originally that had her coming home from work earlier with less of a workload on her shoulders. that abruptly changed when the clients started rolling in after the last two wins had proven that she fought to hell and back for those she represented. even with lucas and a few more staff members in the mix, things still dragged on late.

clark was jealous of his girlfriend's paralegal simply because he got to spend more time with her than he did.

it was stupid. he spent hours with lois lane and she never seemed to be jealous, so why was he suddenly jealous of her coworkers?

CLARK'S head snapped up when he heard the front door unlock. he looked up from where he had been aimlessly flicking through tv channels on the couch to watch as she tossed her white cane to the side and kicked off her heels to land beside them. a gentle moan of relief escaped her throat now that her feet were free from the uncomfortable pair of heels she had begrudgingly chosen to wear to the office today. they were a more expensive pair, one that she had treated herself to after winning a big case a few months ago, but god they fucking hurt to wear after a while. had she not been talking to the press today she would've settled for a comfy shorter pair.

"sorry," she sighed, shutting the door behind her and reaching to lock it. "but i brought home some bread to go with dinner . . . i was thinking of throwing together a quick pasta?"

she froze when something seemed off. she could feel that clark was in the room, could hear him take gentle breaths, but they were deep as if something heavy had attached themself to every exhale of carbon dioxide. "what's wrong?" she asked pointedly, slowly moving in his direction. she set the bread and her bag down on the coffee table once she made it to it, the table the only barrier between her and her boyfriend.

clark's shoulders slumped. her head tilted when he sighed. it was a mix of annoyance and neglect, it reminded her of the time they had left krypto in the apartment and he was sad that he couldn't go out with them. she imagined his eyes conveyed that same look of a sad puppy, too. it would be the same look she used to give her father as a child when he said she couldn't have ice cream, and the sparkle of sadness in her eyes were all he needed to give in. she doubted she would ever be able to replicate it ever again, but she pictured it so clear it was almost like it was yesterday instead of so many years ago. perhaps that was how clark looked now.

"nothing."

"you're a terrible liar, clark," she pushed her glasses up until they sat atop her head. "let's try again. what's wrong?"

clark sighed even louder. "nothing," he pouted this time, unable to help the way his lips contorted and the way his voice rose so high it was almost a whine. he certainly didn't miss the way he watched the corner of her lips twitch.

"sure, okay," she shrugged, feigning being unbothered and walking past the coffee table. before she could make it past the couch clark was on, his hand shot out to grab her, and suddenly she was tumbling on top of him in the blink of an eye. too fast for her to comprehend, she was momentarily dizzy as she felt her surroundings to figure out what she was facing. her hands found clark's face, the pads of her fingers tracing the pout lines in his face, from his forehead down to his lips. he pressed a kiss to her fingers before sighing once more.

"i'm sorry," clark mumbled, his hands resting gently on the exposed skin on her neck. he brushed her pulse point and felt it flutter under his touch. "i don't know what's wrong with me."

instinctively, his words had the back of her hand pressing to his forehead. "did you get enough sun today? you feel fine . . . so—"

"i think i'm jealous of you and your paralegal and i feel so very stupid for even bringing it up because it is stupid because obviously he works for you and you're my girlfriend but i just haven't really seen you lately and i know it's because you're busy but i miss you so much and you get to spend more time with him — which is fine — but he's clearly attractive so i think that's not helping how i feel and . . ." clark trailed off to suck in enough oxygen that he coughed.

his rambling was so rapid fire that it took her a moment to process it all properly. "'clearly attractive'?" she quoted, and felt as clark nodded. "babe, you do remember that i can't, like, see him, right?" clark was silent on that one. "how am i supposed to know if he's attractive? i don't know what he looks like."

which seemed to bring up a whole new lot of spiralling thoughts in clark. she shifted so sit on his lap better, and his hands came to circle her middle, locking her in place. "wait," his eyebrows furrowed, "then how do you know that i'm attractive. like, you can't see me either but you always say i look good so . . ." he squinted, "does that mean you're lying?"

"i can't tell if this is worse than your jealousy tangent or not," she muttered under her breath. "i just know, okay. i can feel you," she lifted her hands back to his face just to prove her point. she dragged her index finger over the bridge of his nose and traced the outline of his lips before trailing up his jawline. "you have perfect physical traits . . . but who you actually are is the important part to me. that's how i'm very lucky to have someone as good-looking as you."

she could feel clark's face heat up under her hands. "and i, once again, forgot for a second that you see differently," his voice dropped into a mumble that she heard perfectly clear. "which means you can't see lucas . . . not like i thought you were gonna think he was better than me or anything anyway . . ." he sighed. "and suddenly i feel really stupid again for even thinking any of this. i just miss you and it's making me feel weird."

"aw, baby," she hummed, kissing him gently. "i was gonna take tomorrow off anyway . . . you should do the same."

clark perked up at that. "i'll call out tomorrow morning," he grinned so hard she could feel it without even needing to feel his face. "i think i can pull off a pretty convincing sick voice."

she knew that his sick voice was very unconvincing because he had never really been sick, but she nodded anyway. "oh totally," she nodded like she was truly convinced. "and then you can have me all day."

"just you," clark nodded, the idea of it perfect, "and me." she could feel his smile against her face when he brushed their noses together. "and no one else."

nothing seemed out of the ordinary. people skirted around her as she walked, someone was kind enough to assist her in crossing the street ( clark had been saying there was still hope for humanity — it was times like this that she truly believed cynicism had not yet taken over entirely ), and it was overall just an easy, and quite lovely, walk home.

she was roughly one block from home when something felt off. heartbeats came and went as she walked, she had learnt well enough now to blur them into her background to not focus on them when it wasn't necessary. there were two particular heartbeats that had remained steady as she walked, neither one of them getting further away. no, they remained at the same pace away — one was quick, the other sounded like a history of heart problems. pushing her red glasses back up her nose, her lips pulled into a thin line as she took a detour from her regular way home.

the heartbeats followed. even closer now, she could hear their breathing, one calm, the other erratic. it was odd, and she had a feeling it was definitely two people trying to take advantage of the fact that she was blind. it all felt very sinister.

"okay," she mumbled, picking up her pace slightly, unnoticeably. she turned down a side street, head tilted to the side as she listened up ahead to find the perfect dead-end alleyway to deal with whatever was behind her. she found one and easily slipped into it, folding up her cane in a few swift movements and holding it behind her back. the footsteps grew louder, quicker, as the two following her shifted into heavy, masculine breathing. she held her ground and didn't move an inch as the men moved to stand on either side of her, blocking her way through the alley.

"are you lost?" the one on the left asked, and her head tilted in that direction.

"i think so," she sighed dramatically, pushing her glasses up to sit atop her head. "i lost my cane and i just . . ." she paused for dramatic effect, willing tears to blur her eyes until a few rolled down her cheek. "i— i don't know where i am . . . i think i took a wrong—wrong turn and—" she was laying it on thick, but the two men didn't seem to notice her acting.

"aw, baby," the man on the right inched closer, his shoes scuffing against the ground. it took everything in her not to flinch backwards, her grip on her folded-up cane tightening when his grubby hands reached towards her bag. the second she heard his hand rustle through the fabric as the other man closed in, she snapped, cracking her cane into the side of his head.

CLARK was enjoying the remnant warmth of the evening sun as it started to set across metropolis. it was nice to float up in the clouds after work, keeping an eye on things while waiting for his girlfriend to get home. things weren't too bad this evening — he helped a cat stuck in a tree and the little girl it belonged to offered him some cookies her mum had made as a thank you, and he helped an old man cross a busy street.

it was nothing major but he loved giving back to his community, to his people. stopping intergalactic threats were one thing, but just helping the general public felt so much better.

he was going to call it a day when he heard the familiar tone of her voice echo softly from his enhanced hearing. sweeping the grid of streets from up above, clark traced the sound to a route that was different from her normal way home. it was almost two streets different, and if he had known she wasn't a vigilante come nighttime, he would've worried that she had taken a wrong turn by mistake.

it took everything in him not to swoop down and intervene when he caught two men cornering her in an alley. he fought it entirely when she swung her cane into the head of the man reaching into her bag, and he couldn't help but smile softly when he backed away, watching as she ducked under the arm of the second man who tried to punch her. she punched him in the stomach in return, and when he keeled over, she slammed her cane into his back and stood back as he dropped to the floor.

the other man groaned as he charged back towards her, a little unsteady on his feet, and she swiftly unfolded her cane and tripped him with it, listening as he stumbled forward into the brick wall. clark watched both men go down with very little effort on her part ( seriously, he heart had barely picked up at all ) and then his smile grew wider when she shouldered her bag and walked out of the alley, leaving the two unresponsive men behind.

listening closer, clark waited for her to leave the alley entirely, her heels clicking against the concrete as she carried on her way home as if nothing had ever happened. "wow," he whispered in awe. shaking his head, he shook himself from his daze and waited a few seconds before flying down to collect both men from the alley, one in each of his hands. he knew there was a police station not too far from here, and so he flew off with them in that direction, the opposite way that she was walking to their home.

she heard him, unknown to him, and a smile of her own tugged across her lips as she listened to him communicate that 'these kind gentlemen here tried to rob a lovely blind woman' the distaste disguised on his tongue as the men were hauled into the station — something about them already having a BOLO on them.

"I'M HOME," CLARK CALLED out as he opened and shut the door behind him. her head snapped up from where she was standing boiling pasta in the kitchen, slowly stirring the penne in the boiling water with a spoon.

"was your trip to the police station fun?" she chuckled softly, setting the spoon down on the counter and facing the direction of clark's voice. "yeah," she said when she heard the hitch in his breath, "i heard you. i'm starting to think i've got better hearing than you."

"which is a little crazy," clark rolled his eyes, a loving shine in his eyes as he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. "i can't believe you did all that in heels— i mean, i can believe it because obviously you're incredible but i don't think i would be capable of something that cool."

she rolled her eyes, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. "what? like it's hard?" she teased. "but i appreciate you for cleaning that mess up for me."

"yeah . . ." clark grinned, "i think there would've been more questions if the police realised it was you who dealt with it."

she shook her head with a gentle laugh. "i'll let you take all the credit for my heroism or whatever. classic journalist."

he snorted uncharacteristically at her comment, so much so that he had to break away to cough to get his breathing back on track.

"and i am going to shut my mouth because i know better than to argue with a lawyer," clark said, leaning against the counter as she moved back to stirring the pasta. he leaned over to turn the heat down, and she listened to determine how low it was now.

it was as blissful as it could get, and some of that bliss came from the fact that this wasn't a typical morning in their apartment. a typical morning consisted of quickly making enough breakfast for the both of them, clark brushing his teeth while she did her hair and then vice versa. sometimes she picked his outfits based on touch and he picked hers based on what he knew would make her the most confident lawyer in a courtroom. they'd been subtly matching recently; the other day he wore a light purple tie and she had light purple cufflinks. today she had her red high heels sat with her briefcase by the door (just in case she was called in to the office) and he was most likely going to find something in his half of the closet to match.

this morning was an anomaly. soft jazz floated through the rooms like a gust of wind, bouncing off every wall and stretching through to their bedroom. it was coming from the record player he had bought her so long ago now, he could hear the faint scratch of the needle — a gentle reminder that he needed to replace it sometime soon.

when the record stopped and he heard the rustle of her flipping it over, clark was up and dressed in no time. he opted for a more creative tie today: a black one with faint red patterning. he paid less mind to it than he usually did, almost tripping over his feet in heading out into the lounge room. his lovely girlfriend was folding the blankets they used last night while watching a movie.

she didn't turn around. "your tie is wrong."

clark paused, his footsteps ceasing. "huh?" he choked out, blinking rapidly as if that would help make sense of how she could tell at all.

"your tie," she repeated, setting the blanket down on the edge of the couch and turning around to face his direction. "it's crooked."

his eyes narrowed at her, "you can't see it," he pointed out the obvious, "and also you weren't even facing me . . . how can you tell?"

she was right, of course. he put on his tie quickly so he could rush out to greet her a proper good morning before he had to leave. it was incredibly askew, something he was going to fix before he walked into the office but the fact that she could tell was still astounding.

"i know you," she chuckled softly, crossing the room and falling into his arms, enveloped into a large hug that had his heartbeat echoing in her ears. "therefore i know it's messed up. i can sense it."

"oh, you can sense it," clark scoffed out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before releasing his arms from around her. her hands found his tie instantly, feeling the messed-up fabric under the pads of her fingers.

"yeah," she rolled her eyes, a smile tugging across her lips. "tell me you don't go into work looking like this . . . i have a reputation to uphold; can't have you showing up to work with your tie all fucked up."

"mhm," clark's lips pulled into a thin line like they always did when curses left her red-stained lips. he bent down to kiss them instead, swallowing her words and ridding them of evil. "and i have a reputation to uphold, too," a teasing grin pasted across his face.

"oh, yeah?" she hummed, eyebrows raised. "and what's that?"

"to have a severely messed up tie."

she sighed but her smile said a thousand words. it was of the same warmth of the sun, one so bright and fuzzy that it was hard to believe there was a time she was so cold towards him. she was a thousand yellow suns all wrapped up into one just for him.

"there," she rolled her eyes, stepping back with a gentle shake of her head. "all fixed."

"yeah?" clark's hands moved to sit on her hips. "so if i mess it up again you're legally obligated to fix it for me, right?"

clark's learnt a lot about flowers since he first met the lawyer that now dictates his heart. how else was he to impress her in the beginning? what he wore didn't matter, but his words did. his actions did. and flowers seemed to make her so happy when they ticked every other sensory box for her. he especially learnt that tulips seemed to be very fitting for their relationship; how the petals would open and close depending on the sun and the weather or temperature, it was very similar to what she brought to their relationship.

sometimes she would shut down and keep to herself instead of opening up to him about something that was bothering her. the petals would close in the dark, sitting dormant in wait for her to open that door back up and tell him what the problem was. clark watched those petals reopen, he watched them react to the sudden light and every piece fell back into place again.

clark loves her. he loves her so much so that sometimes he forgets about the little things that make them different. sometimes he'll forget that his strength is a little too much for the average person to handle. sometimes he'll forget that she can hear insanely well, and so when he mutters under his breath there's a moment of forgetfulness where she hears the little comment that realistically shouldn't have been heard. and then there's the times that he forgets that she's blind. it seems like such a big thing but sometimes it's just one of those things that he completely overlooks when he's in a zone. it doesn't matter that they have been together for so long, sometimes he'll still fall victim to forgetting.

it's never harmful. it's never because he wants to overlook that part of her, it's just because he's comfortable.

THE KITCHEN IS LIVELY. it's a nice change of pace; both clark and herself are home early tonight. she controls the hours she works but clark worked back a few too many nights at the start of the week, meaning he got to leave early on the friday, to where his girlfriend was finishing up some notes on their couch at home. from there they had migrated to the kitchen to make dinner together tonight, where soft jazz played from a CD they had found second-hand not too long ago. some of the quality was scratchy from wear but other than that it worked perfectly.

dinner tonight was a simple pasta. they switched roles most nights, with someone chopping the ingredients and making the sauce while the other boils the pasta and sets the table. clark always prefers to make the sauce because that means that he's the one using the knife, even though he knows she could dice as well as a chef without cutting off any of her fingers.

clark had only just gotten out the ingredients he needed to make the sauce when he noticed her with her fingers in boiling water across the kitchen. she's pouring boiling water from the kettle into a saucepan, her fingers on the edge of the pot to ensure that the boiling water doesn't overflow. clark's brain short-circuited when he watched her fingers dip into the boiling water, and with a quiet wince, she set the kettle down and moved the pot of water over the stovetop.

half a second later, an arm was around her stomach, pulling her away from the stove. "hey," she felt for clark's hand, confused. his heart was beating through the roof. "what's wrong?"

"you just burnt your fingers," he had her moved all the way over to the sink in seconds, guiding her hand under the tap as he turned the cold water on with his other hand. "why would you put your hand in the pot? look, your fingers are all red and they're gonna blister and—"

he rambled on, his tone rising the more concerned he became. "clark," her voice was calm, a sharp edge hidden beneath. "honey." she slowly turned to face his direction, her back pressed back against the sink.

clark stopped, took a shallow breath for a second, and then paused. "i'm worried," he tried to justify. "i just watched you burn your fingers. like, really bad."

"it's not that bad," she reasoned, before shaking her head. "you wanna know why i put my fingers in the saucepan?" she asked, a slight smirk twitching her lips.

"obviously," clark huffed, directing her fingers back to sit under the cold water.

"clark, i'm blind." she said it so bluntly that she couldn't help but snort when she felt him falter. "i can't see how much water i'm pouring and the kitchen was too loud for me to focus on how much i poured."

"i—" clark stuttered. "i know you're blind, i just—" his face heated up, almost red, "sometimes i forget— not in a bad way! like i'm not forgetting on purpose i just—"

her snort turned into a full on laugh. "you're adorable, y'know that?"

clark's shoulders slumped slightly, some of the tension leaving his body. "i just see you as you . . . this is embarrassing can we move on?"

"it's kinda sweet," she promised, raising onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "but i promise my fingers are fine. it hardly hurts."

clark's lips pulled into a tight line, a gentle shake of his head. "i worry too much, i know."

"yeah, a little," she agreed softly, "but i love that about you."

chuckling quietly, she placed her hand on her boyfriend's arm. clark's shoulders lost their tension. he wanted things to be perfect: kara had finally decided to spend some time with him in metropolis after he had spent months begging for her to stop galavanting around red sun planets and come back to earth. kara had only just opened up about the week of her twenty-third birthday and all the drama that came with it, so it made sense that she was taking some time off partying and drinking to sober up at full-strength in the force of the yellow sun. overall, this meant that clark had his girlfriend to officially acquaint with his cousin . . . and he was slightly worried about that.

"it's fine, clark," she cracked a smile. red glasses perched up on her nose, she lifted them to sit atop her head. "i can't actually see you, but i can see around you, if that makes sense." it clearly did not when kara's nose scrunched up. "i can see the silhouette of you because all my other sense are enhanced, i guess," she tried to explain better. "but i can't actually see you, no."

kara whistled. "probably for the best," she nodded rather solemnly, "clark over here isn't too easy on the eyes."

"hey!" clark interjected, crossing his arms over his chest. "i don't think i should leave you two alone today if kara's gonna keep acting like this," his words were directed at his girlfriend rather than his cousin this time.

she shook her head with a gentle smile while kara blabbered on about how she didn't need a babysitter. "go to work, clark. there's nothing to be worried about."

"mhm, if you say so," clark didn't sound convinced, but he picked up his blazer and his briefcase nonetheless. "see you tonight," he kissed her cheek before looking at kara. "and you behave yourself. i don't need to look up and see you on the news."

"go to work, clark," kara huffed. "leave us alone."

clark begrudgingly said one last goodbye before disappearing. kara stood up and clapped her hands together the second the door clicked shut. "so . . ." she trailed off. "what are some girly things to do around here?"

the concept of a girls day was still rather new to kara. she had watched movies to better understand humans when clark first found her, but since then she had only really used them to understand english better before she flew back into space with krypto and refused to return.

"we could go shopping?" she suggested to kara, joining her in standing up. "i don't really think there's much that i need but i think we could expand your closet to better fit your tastes . . ."

kara looked down at her clothes. they weren't her aesthetic in the slightest, and what she did have on was old, a little weathered, and definitely more of clark's taste than her own. kara needed baggy jeans or cargo pants with band shirts and eye-catching jewellery to match. she knew that kara loved her coat, that wouldn't change, but she needed to get kara out of flannel shirts that probably looked like they came straight from smallville.

they probably had come from smallville anyway, clark held onto some of his old clothes and it was clear that the smaller ones had been handed down to kara. it was sweet but it was also very obvious that kara was not giving farm girl and intead punk rock princess.

"please," kara groaned, shrugging off the brown flannel that had seen better days. she only really wore it around the house when her coat wasn't necessary. now that they were going out, kara was moving towards the coatrack to pick up her favourite part of her outfit. "clark keeps giving me his clothes. they smell like cows."

she laughed at kara, sliding her glasses back down to rest over her eyes. "we can buy whatever you want, don't worry about it," she waved off. the lawyer money was coming in good now, and kara was starting to feel like a sister-in-law anyway. who better to spend her money on than her? walking over to the door, she picked up her white cane and jacket. "just remember that i'm blind and we've gotta keep up appearances."

"i'll be an excellent guide," kara brushed off like it was nothing, opening the front door with a newfound excitement in her step. "no one'll think you're kinda not blind at all."

KARA HAD MANAGED TO buy quite a few things to the point where she raced the copious amounts of bags to the car and met her back inside at a good coffee spot at the mall.

it was quite the success. she couldn't see what kara bought, but they had all been described to her: band shirts, some of whom kara knew the artist and some where she was interested to listen to them, some darker shirts with casual graphic designs on them, two pairs of baggy jeans, some sweatpants, and accessories such as chunky belts, necklaces and bracelets to go with it. there weren't really any earrings that kara liked, but this was a pretty good start for someone who was going to be living on earth for quite a while.

"what did you order me?" kara asked as she sat back down at the table, dropping the car keys and her phone on the table. they had been two things that kara had somehow managed to convince clark that she needed: the car was clark's and he had finally started trusting his cousin enough to use it, and the phone meant that he could keep tabs on her in case of emergency. and so that he could contact her whenever he wanted. kara was like the sibling he never got, and he was making the absolute most of it.

her head moved to follow kara's sudden appearance. "got us both a hot chocolate. this is, like, the only place that makes it with belgian chocolate in metropolis and god is it good."

"yum," kara grinned, resting her chin on her hand that she had propped up on the table. "so . . . i think i need to get to know you better."

she tilted her head. "why's that?"

"because one day clark is obviously gonna wanna marry you, duh," kara rolled her eyes. "he's so in love with you it's gross. he used to call me all the fucking time when i was in space and just ramble about you to try convince me to come back here. he's sickening, i swear."

she laughed a little too loud, covering her mouth with her hand to try silence the noise before people started looking over. "you'd be my maid of honour if we got married," she said softly. "i know we don't know each other super well but you're everything to clark . . . and it's finally kinda nice to hang out with more people like me, you know?"

like me was the only way she could really put it. obviously clark and kara weren't human like she was, but they shared they same traits that she had as a metahuman. there were things that regular people didn't understand, like how certain smells and sounds were so sharp it felt like the world was caving in, or days where everything was so overwhelming because everything was so prominent. kara understood that the second she first came to metropolis. everything was so loud in a city; it was daunting. plus, it was refreshing to be around someone who knew her secrets so that she didn't have to pretend to be normal all the time.

"aw," kara ducked her head, stiffening her posture as if that would combat the sudden warmth flooding her face. "i appreciate that . . ." she cleared her throat, tucking her hair back behind her ears. "but first i've gotta teach you kryptonian. clark doesn't know any which means we can talk shit."

"i don't think i have much 'shit' to talk, but sure," she shrugged, smiling in agreement. "i'd love to learn." it meant spending more time with kara and that felt nice at the moment.

"that's fine," kara said just as a waitress brought over the two cups of hot chocolate. the two girls thanked her before kara continued to speak. "i have plenty of shit to talk." she dunked her spoon into the mug to gather some of the froth. "y'know he kept yelling at me in english as if i would understand him when i first got here?" she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "fuckin' idiot— holy shit!" her eyes widened after scooping the foam into her mouth. "this is the best thing i've ever had ever. oh my god."