Clark stirred as the alarm buzzed softly next to their bed. He tightened his arms around Lois, who instinctively nestled closer, her breathing still slow and steady in the dimness of their bedroom. He pressed a gentle kiss into her hair.
When Lois began to stir, he whispered, “Good morning, honey.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering open as she shifted to look at him. Groaning, she feigned reluctance, burying her face against his chest. “It’s too early. Can’t we just stay like this?”
“Enticing,” Clark admitted, “but you know that won’t work.” He kissed her lingeringly before chuckling. “Come on, Perry won’t like it if we’re late again.” He began to disentangle himself from her embrace.
“I don’t care, as long as I can stay in bed with you,” she protested, pulling him back.
He gave in for a moment, the world fading away as they held each other. But eventually, Clark stood, leaving her with no choice but to sit up as they slowly started their day.
After breakfast, they turned to the basket with the remaining three advent bags. Clark handed her the one marked "22." Lois opened it to reveal a small globe, its surface etched with green and blue.
“The Earth?” Her eyebrows lifted in curiosity. “Are we celebrating the planet today?”
“Something like that,” Clark said, smiling. “Yesterday was the Winter Solstice - the shortest day of the year. I thought we could have a quiet evening together. I’ll cook something nice and we’ll see where the evening takes us.”
---
The evening arrived and after a long but uneventful day at the Daily Planet, Lois and Clark stepped outside into the cool night air. The city’s lights twinkled, casting a warm glow on the bustling streets, but Lois barely noticed. She gazed up at the sky, her voice soft. “Even the darkness of the night has its beauty, though you barely see any stars here in Metropolis.”
Clark turned to her, sensing a wistful sadness in her tone. “You okay?” he asked gently.
She hesitated, her breath visible in the cold air. “I was just thinking about that night, before you left for New Krypton. We stood by the window of my apartment and I asked you to show me the star where you were going. It felt so final, like I would lose you forever.” Her voice faltered and she glanced down, blinking quickly. “I guess nights like this remind me of that.”
Clark’s heart ached at her words. Without a moment’s hesitation, he gently pulled her toward a darkened alley. “Come with me,” he murmured. In an instant, he spun into Superman, wrapping her securely in his arms and they soared upward together.
“Better?” he murmured, his breath warm against the cool night air.
“Yes,” Lois breathed, leaning into him as he wrapped her in his cape. As they floated higher, Lois’ gaze softened and she laid her head against his chest enjoying their closeness, her thoughts drifting back again.
Clark’s heart tightened. “I never wanted to leave you.”
“I know,” Lois whispered. She turned her gaze to the stars. “I watched your star every night, just like I promised.”
A quiet moment passed between them as they both looked up, reflecting on the time that had passed since that painful goodbye. The weight of those words - I’ll watch it every night - still echoed in the space between them.
Clark gently pulled her closer, his voice low. “And now you don’t have to watch alone.”
Lois smiled softly, her heart full. “No. Now I never will and neither will you.”
---
After their quiet moment under the stars, Lois and Clark returned to their house, the warmth of their home a sharp contrast to the crisp winter air. Clark quickly disappeared into the kitchen, determined to prepare a special meal for the Winter Solstice, a small but meaningful celebration of the returning light.
Lois lingered in the living room, a soft smile playing on her lips as she took in their space. Inspired by the evening’s theme, she decided to set the mood. She gathered a few candles from around the house, placing them on the dining table. She also found a few evergreen sprigs she’d clipped from the yard earlier in the week and arranged them in a small centerpiece.
Satisfied with her work, she stepped back and admired the simple but cozy ambiance she’d created. Then she rifled through their music collection and chose a soft instrumental album that suited the reflective mood. As the first notes filled the room, she felt a quiet peace settle over her.
Curious about Clark’s progress, Lois wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. “Need a sous-chef?”
Clark glanced up from the stove, his expression amused. “You volunteering?”
“Maybe,” she said, stepping closer. “What can I do without ruining dinner?”
He chuckled, reaching for a bowl of dried cranberries. “How about stirring these into the salad without burning anything down?”
Lois rolled her eyes but took the bowl with a smirk. “One time, Clark. One time.”
As she stirred, they chatted about the traditions they’d learned through the Advent calendar. Lois teased him about his dedication to authenticity, while Clark marveled at how much she’d embraced the journey.
“You know,” she said, pausing to taste the salad dressing, “I never thought I’d find so much meaning in something as simple as marking the days. But this... it’s been special.”
When the dinner was ready, they sat at the table and lighting the candles one by one, their warm glow casting flickering shadows against the walls.
Clark paused for a moment, taking in the soft candlelight, the evergreen sprigs and the warmth that seemed to radiate from every detail. His gaze shifted to Lois and he smiled.
“This is perfect,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “The table looks beautiful, just like you. You really know how to make everything feel... special.”
Lois tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Even though I didn’t actually cook anything?”
Clark chuckled, shaking his head. “You brought the light into the room, Lois. That’s what tonight is about - finding warmth and hope even in the darkest moments. And you’ve always been my light.”
Lois’s teasing expression softened and she reached across the table, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”
The smell of roasted root vegetables filled the air - carrots, parsnips and sweet potatoes glazed with honey and a touch of rosemary, their golden edges crisped to perfection. There was a hearty stew, rich with tender beef and winter greens, its savory aroma mingling with the earthy scent of thyme and bay leaves.
Lois smiled at the sight of the meal, the simple yet nourishing dishes reminding her of the many times they had shared meals together, comforting each other through the difficult times. “It smells amazing,” she said, her eyes meeting Clark’s.
He smiled back, his heart full. “I thought we could have something to celebrate the longest night, the return of the light,” he said, his voice soft. “Something to remind us that no matter how dark it gets, the light always comes back.”
They ate together, the silence between them comfortable, their hearts lighter with each bite. The meal was simple, yet perfect for the night, reflecting the quiet joy they found in one another’s company.
After dinner, they moved to the living room, where Clark had set up a small fire in the fireplace. They sat together, wrapped in blankets and watched the flames flicker as they shared stories of their hopes for the future, the dreams they both carried - of family, of love and of the new beginnings that awaited them.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” she said, leaning back.
“I just thought we could celebrate the return of the sun with something cozy, only for the two of us,” Clark replied, his eyes twinkling.
---
After dinner, Lois curled up on the couch, tucking a blanket over her legs as Clark joined her. He handed her a mug of steaming, spiced hot chocolate, its warm aroma wrapping around them like a comforting embrace.
She took a sip and smiled, savoring the rich flavors. “I have to admit, this feels pretty magical.”
Clark settled beside her, his arm draping over the back of the couch. “It’s been a year of changes,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady.
Lois nodded, her tone softening. “I keep thinking about everything we’ve been through - the hardest days... and how we made it through. Together.”
Clark reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “We’ve faced some dark times, but you’ve always been my light,” he said, his eyes warm and sincere. “And now, with the solstice, we can look ahead to brighter days. The return of the sun and all the hope that comes with it.”
As Lois took another sip of her drink, a faint wave of queasiness crept in - so slight she almost dismissed it. She set the mug down carefully, her brow furrowing. “I think I’ve had enough of this for now,” she said, glancing at Clark.
He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing grin. “Lois Lane turning down chocolate? Stop the presses.” Then, his expression softened with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t catch that cold Ralph’s been complaining about, did you?”
Lois gave a small laugh, brushing off his worry. “Doubtful. I avoid Ralph like the plague - literally.”
The uneasy feeling faded, leaving her grounded again, but a quiet thought lingered. She wasn’t ready to share what she suspected. Not yet. She needed to be sure before she spoke the words aloud.
“I’m ready for those longer days,” she said, shifting the conversation. Her gaze drifted to the flickering firelight. “I love waking up in your arms, sunlight spilling across the bed, bathing us in a soft light. It feels like the world pauses just for us.”
Clark’s expression softened as he leaned closer, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “I don’t know what the future holds,” he said gently, “but as long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.”
The silence that followed was warm and unspoken, stretching like the promise of brighter days ahead. Lois leaned into Clark, resting her head on his shoulder, her thoughts quieting as the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the room.
The night seemed endless, yet brimming with possibility. Lois’s thoughts wandered to all the ways Clark had made this Christmas special, every detail wrapped in his love and care. Whatever the future brought, she knew one thing with certainty: they’d face it together.
And that was enough.
