Clark Kent (clarklike) wrote,
Clark Kent

Clark sits down on his bed and lays back, closing his eyes. For the first time in ten days, he goes more than five minutes without listening in on something, or looking in on something. For more than five minutes, it’s all about him, private, without eavesdropping or spying or invading others’ privacy.

Clark relaxes, and stretches. The muscles that control his eyeballs feel stressed and sore –– a rarity for him, but utterly reasonable, given how much strain he’d been putting on himself for the past week.

It's over. It's finally over.

Cabot's gone.
Tags: verse: paradisa

  • (no subject)

    Clark drifts over the countryside at six thousand feet, wind whipping his hair out of order and his t-shirt struggling to escape him in the breeze.…

  • (no subject)

    “Hey,” Clark said, crouching down to Damian’s level. Damian’s surly expression didn’t change for even a moment. “I hear you’re our current Robin.”…

  • (no subject)

    Ted Kord is forty, and always seems to be smiling. He’s squarely built, someone clearly used to fighting and working for what he wants, but he’s soft…

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