By Bella <email@example.com>
Submitted May 11, 1998
Summary: In this poignant observation, we're inside Clark's mind as he watches Lois.
Legal fuss: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman" and its characters aren't mine. I only borrow them for a short time. Feedback: More than welcome. Hey, I don't get any money out of this. Be at least so kind to let me know what you're thinking.
Author's note: The time is early in second season.
I'm looking at you. Just looking. Again. I know I shouldn't. I only torment myself. They say I'm running on solar energy. They're probably right. I don't know for sure. But the heat I feel in your presence, when I let your beauty wash over me energizes me as well. It's you. Your belief. Your hope. Your longing. It's your strength that keeps me going on.
I catch Perry's gaze. Does he know? I see compassion in his eyes. Does he know how it feels? Being and yet not being with you every day.
I wonder. What's going on in your head, when you frown like that, bent over your keyboard, reading the words and sentences you've just created? Do you think about improving, rephrasing to make it more intense? I think it can't get any more intense. It makes me sad. It makes me angry. You pick up your cup of coffee. You sip slowly, still lost in your story. Your tongue absent-mindedly catches a drop that spilled over. I find it erotic. No surprise there. Everything you do moves me in one way or the other.
I remember. Yesterday evening we had one of our far too few evenings together. We worked. Afterwards we watched a movie. Then you left. Mel Gibson. Again. Do you prefer men with a hard exterior, but with soft cores? Is that why you're attracted to my super side? You said once I'd be so strong and yet so gentle. Do you need a protector? Despite what you're constantly doing or saying? I'd protect you. I do. Even though it's agony. So near and yet far. I hold you in my arms. And you see only the hero in a cape.
Yesterday we watched Lethal Weapon III. And you were sitting beside me in "your" corner of my couch. "Your" corner. I've come to regard that corner as yours. As so much else. Your cup in my cupboard. The T-shirt you borrowed from me. I haven't worn it since. It's yours. In my most pathetic hours I even regard the other half of my bed as yours. I hug your pillow. I pretend it's you. But you never hug me back at night.
I see Jimmy talking to you. You smile back at him. It makes me want to reach out to you. Touch you. Feel you. But I restrain myself. I have to. You wouldn't understand. Not yet.
Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. My mantra. But it's getting harder. My patience wears thin. Lois, how long will you keep me waiting?
I sigh. You look up at me. Not yet.