Story Summary: Chloe reaches her breaking point

Author Notes: I apologise for this now. Also the last line well just accept. The swearing has it's place considering the situation. I might write a sequel but who knows, and I've only seen as far as bug boy coz I'm Australian, so please excuse any inaccuracies, and the different spelling.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and the Shakespeare reference has to do with reading and attempting to understand Othello.

Breaking Point By Moonbeam

There is only so much a girl can take, it's true there is a breaking point for every person and I reached mine, ran screaming through it, then out the door. I bet I looked odd, I know I looked odd. It began normal enough I went over to discuss an assignment, as usual he was late, he's always late, which is odd his parents are always early, to everything. So he was late and I sat and waited like I always do, now the thing about my breaking point is that well I've been there before, not to the actual point but in the situation, but it seems that my breaking point has an accumulative quality. So finally he showed up with his dad looking all normal after a hard day on the farm, thing was this wasn't normal, he walked through the door and I think my brain actually stopped working, I realised I was staring, I'm usually really good about the staring thing, much more stealthy than he is, but I've had more practise, and more reason too. Anyway his mother called my name, cause after the staring I was trying the 'if looks could kill' theory on my coffee cup. I heard her, well I rather knew she was doing it, finally one of my brain cells began to work, just the one mind you and to that reason I attribute the next minute. I looked up tried not to look at him, anywhere but him, I suck at the will thing, I looked at him, stared at him, again. He asked me what was wrong, I couldn't respond, the one brain cell was only capable of movement not speech. Then he moved over, I must have looked really odd. He touched my shoulder and I screamed, screamed so loud his father exclaimed, then I ran, maybe that one brain cell is my smartest. I ran through the door, through the yard, over the field, through the fence, over the hill, down the path, across the river and straight onto my rock.

I love my rock, it's not smooth, or round, it's flat, I call it flat rock, original I know. It sits kinda in the water kinda out and that changes with the tide. Anyway I like the rock helps me think like showers do, it's like rain, I like rain too. I have issues, oh god I screamed, like a girl. I am a girl, I have so many problems, never again, I'm becoming a monk or a nun or a hermit. I'll take my rock, my shower, and the rain and become a hermit; it'll all be good.

I was wrong; it's never all good in Smallville, abso-fucking-lutely never. There he was, the terrifying guy himself, he isn't supposed to follow me, he isn't supposed to look so damn worried, he's supposed to be at home worrying about her. GRRRRRRRRRRRR. I think I said that out loud, cause now he's looking worried and slightly scared, he's never scared, he's always.normal? No, not normal but not scared. I'm staring again, he looks the same, a little more sweaty, and windblown, Oh my god, I start rubbing my head and I know my look is disbelieving. I think I'm gonna cry, I never cry. that's not true I never cry in front of people. I cry in the shower, it muffles the sound and keeps down the puffiness, I like showers, very relaxing. The extra ten brain cells that had re-awoken during my run are threatening to go back on strike. I jump up and run away again. Back through the river, down a new path, through a field, through my gate and into the house.

Dad's not home, good, he'd question, I need a shower, the rock didn't work, it always works, as I reach the bathroom the tears are already streaming down my face, I could refill the Nile. I don't have time to change so I just jump in the shower, he won't come in here he's too damn nice, too damn sweet, brought up too damn well. My face is soaked I can't be sure if it's the shower or my tears, I want it to be the shower, I need it to be, if he affects me this much, this often, I'll never recover, I'll never get over him. I hate the word love, don't feel comfortable with the way it feels but still I know somewhere that's what it is and I'll fight it I have to. I hate him, I love him, I'll kill him. Yeah that will solve all my problems; I'll chop him into messes. I feel the laughter start and I can't control it I have to clutch my stomach the laughter actually hurts and not in that good 'I'm so happy way'. Why am I so cold, I turn around and there he is again, God dammit, he shouldn't be able to do that, he would never peek at a girl, why the hell is he looking then?

He's stepping into the shower, why is he stepping into my shower, he's moving towards me and I'm moving away, he looks hurt, I fell bad but I can't move, I look down but I can still see his arms, his very nice arms, and his very nice hands, they move away from his body and gesture that he'll give me a hug. I look up into those damn nice eyes and do something I don't wanna do, I'm gonna cry, in front of him, about him. This makes me weak, but he doesn't care, he moves closer and envelopes me in those arms, those hands pull me to him and I cling to him. I must be hurting him, I know I'm hurting him but I can't seem to let go, the tears are falling harder, and now great sobs escape me that convulse through my body. He just holds me tighter. I thank him silently for not asking, just holding me. It feels very nice to be held by him, very nice. Maybe I'll hold that hermitship off for a while and stay here, I should ask for more hugs.

Yep, every girl has a breaking point, and I flew through mine, he flew after me and dragged me back.

I didn't know Clark could fly.

The End