From Part 13
This had to be a dream. But I did not care. Even if this moment existed only in my dreams, it was real enough. I had waited much too long to finally be with Clark. Tenderly, he stroked me, seduced me, until my whole body was burning with desire. And when I thought I was about to lose my mind, his gentle caress brought release.
* * *
Only in my dreams
Part 14
"That was ...“ I was still trying to catch my breath. The world around me was just gradually returning. Clark was smiling more happily than he had been for weeks. He leaned forward and kissed my nose. "Wow ..." I sighed, exhausted but satisfied. "Is this really happening?" I asked with a trembling voice.
"Yes," Clark replied, embarrassed. I could almost see him blush in the dark. "I didn’t mean to impose on you like that."
My confusion grew. "Please, tell me that I’m not dreaming!" I softly pleaded with him. I snuggled closer into his arm, wanted to feel him, to convince myself that I would not wake up again in an empty bed. His breath tingled on my skin, assuring me with each gentle whiff of air that he was actually there.
Clark kissed me again, his lips gentle like the flutter of a butterfly. "This is no dream,“ his warm voice whispered reassuringly. "Though it certainly feels like one.” His smile warmed my heart. Was he actually back, here with me? The mere thought made me dizzy with happiness. I could not avert my eyes for as much as a blink, fearing that all this would burst like a soap bubble if I did.
But Clark remained warm and reliable next to me. I kissed him again. I could not get enough of his lips. Velvety and sweet, his tongue caressed me. I felt his hands on my back as he hugged me.
"Oh, Lois," he murmured, caressing my skin. A pleasant shiver ran down my spine. I would never let go of him again. My hands moved over the muscles of his arm, across his back, memorizing the structure of his body like a blind person would.
"Clark, what ..." I said after a while, quickly biting my tongue. I did not want my curiosity to destroy this precious moment. After all I had been through, I wanted to enjoy this as long as it lasted. Not to mention that I felt a little guilty, because it had been just me having all the fun.
Dimly, I saw his face in front of me. I leaned forward and tasted his lips again, which readily opened to the kiss. Oh, how I had yearned for this. The truth was that I did not really care why he had been so distant. All that mattered was that he had stopped running.
"We aren’t done yet, Clark," I said huskily, deepening the kiss. With my hand I traced the lines of his abdomen underneath his shirt. I had not even noticed that he was still fully dressed. I stroked him gently and let my hands wander deeper. His breathing became labored. He gasped and suddenly pushed my hands away.
"No, Lois, don’t," he choked breathlessly. "I shouldn’t have kept this from you...You need to understand that this is very difficult for me. I've never…" Clark swallowed hard and then fell silent again. "Lois," he murmured reverently, and his eyes locked on me. "Oh, God."
Then suddenly his eyes widened. He removed his hands from me and jumped out of the bed. With a frantic cry, he stumbled backwards and hit the wall. His face was contorted with terror as he ran his hands through his hair and covered his eyes. He almost seemed to be suffering pain. Clark was shaking all over and stumbled sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right. Quite clearly he was torn between the impulse to run away and the desire to finally explain what was going on.
"Nonononono," he groaned in despair. "I can’t do this! Why on earth did I believe that this could work!" It sounded like a curse. "Forgive me, Lois, please forgive me." His voice was trembling like the rest of his body. With a dull thud Clark hit his head against the wall and then sank down to the floor, defeated. "I'm so sorry, Lois," he apologized quietly. I could see the pure terror in his eyes as he looked at me from the ground. "This should not have happened," he said, more to himself than to me. "I shouldn’t have fancied myself as being able to…It was unfair of me to impose on you..." He made a choking noise.
"It's okay, Clark," I tried to calm him down. Did he actually think that he had done anything to violate me? Anything but that! "I enjoyed every moment of this, Clark. I... I wanted it, too," I whispered, and felt a tear run down my cheek. "I’ve been dreaming of this for so long ...I want us to be..."
"No... no, Lois, please, don’t say that. This shouldn’t be happening. Oh, I should have known..." Once again Clark made this choking noise and suddenly I realized that he was sobbing. "I shouldn’t have... oh, my God, I knew that..."
Stunned, I looked at him and tried to understand what was going on here. Clark had kissed me. He had kissed me, not some fantasy of Mayson Drake. He had called me Lois. He had made love to, well, almost had made love to me. But the way he looked now, he clearly was in a bad shape.
He cried.
"Clark?" I began, but soon realized that speaking coherently was beyond me. I was completely baffled. "What should not have happened?" I asked again when I remembered that he had said something along those lines.
Clark leaned against the wall. In the dim light of the lamp on the bed stand, he looked defeated. While I was watching him, he opened his mouth helplessly, but no words would come out. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes and I could tell that he was struggling to retain his composure. This was so absurd. Clark had done what I been dreaming about for weeks now. So why was he crying?
"Th... this," he replied after a while. "I never… should have kissed you ..." He looked down at his feet. "I shouldn’t ... have been so foolish to believe that I could make this work, in spite of everything. Now things will be even more difficult. "
Nothing of what he said, made any sense to me. "Then why did you kiss me?" I asked in a moment of self-destructive curiosity. "Do you take some perverse pleasure in torturing me?" I shouted at him angrily. "Why are you doing this to me?" I knew I was not going to like the answer, so why did I ask him anyway?
"Because..." Clark again swallowed and ran his tongue over his apparently dry lips. "... I love you."
I said nothing. He had already confessed his love, and yet it felt wrong. Clark's words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I could only sit there and stare at him. My life began and ended in this very moment when he finally said the words I had been longing to hear for weeks. But this was more than I could comprehend. They sounded hollow, meaningless and – strangely enough - yet deeply honest.
"Lois?" Clark asked quietly as he looked at me. His eyes were still damp, his lips pale and trembling.
"What... how..." I struggled for words, knowing there was really nothing I could possibly say to express how I felt. "How can that be?" I breathed. "You... you cannot love me... you... you barely even look at me..." my voice had become unnaturally high. <You treat me like dirt> - I could not voice that thought. Now it was my turn making a choking noise. "... You hate me." Again, we just stared at each other wordlessly, unable to have a conversation. An eternity passed before Clark moved again, and yet another passed until he said something.
"No, Lois, I don’t hate you," he said gently, and for a moment his eyes rested on me; he looked at me openly. "I could never hate you." Slowly he stood up again, presumably to further back away from me. "For months I’ve been trying to come back to my senses and be your friend. But I cannot stand this anymore. I must go..." His voice broke and he began trembling all over his body again. "I... I can’t do this anymore."
"Why, Clark? Why?" I cried quietly, my voice breaking as I tried to put all those questions I had on my mind into one. "What's the matter?" My gaze followed Clark as he slowly crept over to the window. For a while he stood there motionless and stared into the night. "I love you too, Clark." My voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. I could not believe that I still felt this way. That was absolutely unbelievable and yet it was true. "I love you," I repeated, afflicted. Clark winced noticeably when he heard my words. "So much," I continued, determined to finally confess this.
"Please don’t say that, Lois," Clark growled, depressed. "Please don’t make this any more difficult for us than it already is," he pleaded, leaning his hand against the wall beside the window.
I quickly averted my eyes. It hurt to listen to Clark's dismissal. I’d have liked to escape this situation, but I did not know where to go. And I could not just leave without getting any explanation at all. He owed me that at least.
"You’re going to tell me the truth now, or I won’t let you go," I said icily, ready to get in his way should he attempt to leave. "And I don’t want to hear any stupid excuses, not after you broke my heart. You’ve used me without wasting a thought on what this might do to me. You call that love? I deserve better than that.”
If looks could kill, Clark would have immediately collapsed in front of the window. He remained on his feet though, apparently aware of the angry woman behind him. He turned around.
"You’re right, I owe you an explanation," he replied softly. "I thought that it would be better for both of us if you didn’t know the truth. I’m sorry, Lois."
His right hand jerked up to his glasses, once, twice. Then he took them off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Without his glasses, the dark circles under his eyes were even more striking. His face looked strange and yet familiar in a way that sent a chill down my spine.
"Lois," he muttered uneasily and took a step toward me. His voice blended with that of another. "You need to understand, that I never enjoyed lying to you. I often thought about telling you. It's just ..." his voice trailed off. Even without him actually saying it, all the pieces suddenly fell into place. The voice, the eyes, all the excuses, all the strange things made sense.
"You're Superman," I replied flatly and tried to grasp the meaning of his revelation.
"Yes," he admitted quietly. "I had really been hoping that I didn’t need to tell you, for your own sake." He swallowed hard.
"How ... how could you ... how dare you?" I stammered. "For my sake?" I laughed, but actually I felt only hot burning rage. "What were you thinking, you idiot?" I snapped. "Did you enjoy this? Did you like watching me while I made a complete fool of myself, being so head over heels in love with you that I’ve completely lost my mind?"Again I laughed bitterly. "Oh, I should never have gotten involved with you in any way whatsoever!"
My breath came in panting gasps. Furious, I gathered up my clothes, slipped into my pants and found a sweater. Suddenly I was at the door, my hand wrapped around the handle. My heartbeat thundered in my ears and for a moment, it was all I heard. Clark stood in the dim light of the hotel room and looked strangely naked without his glasses. His tie hung loosely around his neck. A couple of shirt buttons were opened. Even though they only revealed his bare skin, I was no longer fooled. Superman was standing right in front of me, nervously running his hand through his hair. My heart pounded louder, stronger, and the walls seemed to close in on me, until I was afraid I would suffocate. While Clark's eyes widened, I turned the handle of the door, took a step forward and then stumbled through the open doorway into the hallway.
A hoarsely whispered, "Lois," followed me on the way out. Then there was silence, until I just heard my breath and the barely suppressed sobs that shook my body.
to be continued...
