To Love a Dichotomous Man
Lois hadn't spoken to Clark in over two weeks. He had lied to her, even if only by omission. He had been her friend, and more recently more, but he had never trusted her enough to confide his secret. His lack of faith in her cut Lois deeply. So she had left. She took Jason and moved out of the apartment she had been living in for so long and rented a room.
She was loath to admit that she actually missed his company. Those months spent in his company had been peaceful, harmonious, and even fun. Lois had come to imagine things would always be that way and she hated herself for that stubborn pride that made her lash out at him. "You're Superman?" she could hear herself say, her voice rising. "You should have told me! I can't believe you didn't trust me!" Wincing at the harsh tone that had been in her voice, she shook her head to rid herself of the memory.
She had left in a rush, leaving many things behind, though nothing she needed desperately enough that she would dare go back there. Sighing, she pushed the notebook computer to the bed and sat forward, putting her head in her hands. Her fingers wrapped around her hair as a sort of exasperated sob escaped her lips before she could contain it. She was conflicted. Just as she had admitted her feelings for Clark he had gone and repelled her, leaving her with an emptiness. Did he feel the same way about her? She was almost certain he did – anyone could notice the way he looked at her. She had been a fool not to notice it sooner.
There was a knock at the door. She did not look up, didn't move. It had come from the glass door to the balcony and her room was on the fourth floor. She knew who was knocking. Still, he persisted.
Wishing she had straightened up her disheveled hair or bothered to change out of her pajamas, Lois stood with irritation and slid open the balcony door. She stepped aside and allowed the man in blue and red to enter. "Where's Jason?" he asked.
"Richard took him to a movie," she answered without looking up. He carried a simple bag with him, offering it to her after she closed the door behind him. She looked at it and to him without taking it. "What's that?" she asked.
"Just a few of your things," he replied, accenting his original offer, his body-language insisting she take it. "You left them at my apartment."
She accepted them reluctantly and placed them on the chair behind her. When she turned around again, Superman was far too close for comfort. Forced to meet the 'S' on his chest, she tried to back up, but found her legs touching the chair. "Superman," she whispered, out of breath. She took hold of her anger the second it flared, shielding herself from him with it. "I don't even know what to call you!" she pointed out, virtually attacking him for his dishonesty.
"Lois, I'm sorry," he told her for the tenth time since his confession two weeks ago. The sincerity in his voice struck home and, to her displeasure, rendered her silent. His hands found their way to her hips and rested there, warming her more than she would have thought likely. Her hands raised to his forearms to stop him, but ended up merely resting there as she met his blue eyes. Her tone was somber, hurt.
"You can't just expect me to accept your apologies. You lied to me. You didn't trust me."
"Of course I trust you." His brows furrowed as he looked at her and she tried to stave off herself, but she was already forgiving him. "I just don't want to see you hurt. Telling you who I am puts you in danger. It puts Jason in danger. I don't want that. But I can't live a life with you if you don't know the truth."
"Live a..." Her tone was soft, breathy, and questioning.
"Lois, I want to live with you forever. I want to live with my son. My family."
He stooped to kiss her and she was so flustered she did not stop him. His lips covered hers, warm and slick. Lust stabbed within her and she lost her balance, not wanting to fight back. For once, the stubborn fire within her was calm. He did not stabilize her, but let her fall to the bed though it broke their kiss. He lowered himself to her, listening to the change in her breathing, in her heart rate.
"Lois," he whispered, his lips inches from hers.
She smiled back at him and unfastened his cape. "Take of that costume of yours, Clark."
Author's Note: This is the end of this story. I hope you like it. Sorry it took so long! Give me your comments and criticisms – what have you.
However, I seriously doubt I will be writing more of this story. I think to continue it would be to beat a dead horse. It needs to end here. :D Thanks for reading!