heart of steel. (Clark Kent/Superman)

chapter three.

{a.n// can we just take a moment to see that scarlett johansson is a queen?}

"It's not exactly love at first sight;
It's more like soul recognition."

Once I was done bathing, I went to my living room and sat down. Once comfortable, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Then after my breathing was on track, I began to squelch and hop up and down.

I just hung out with Superman.

I needed to calm down, honestly. I bet you Superman wasn't reacting like I was. To him, I was most likely just another reporter.

But I felt like we connected on a personal level, legit. I mean, you don't just tell reporters your deepest feelings, do you?

Speaking of reporters, I needed to type up my story. I was supposed to be reporting on the supposed "terrorist attack" in downtown Metropolis, but my editor and boss, Ms.Hancock would probably like the scoop on Superman included with the information on the attack. This piece was really important, as our opposing news team/paper "The Daily Planet" had already had multiple stories on Superman and his rescues. I had until eight to get my story into "The World Gazette" headquarters before Hancock roasted me. And possibly my job.

Once it was all typed up, it was half an hour to eight, so hustling was my main priority. Papers tucked under my arm, and sliding my jacket onto my body, I dashed out of my home.

Jogging down Main, I slid my phone out from the pocket of my jacket. I shot the intern, Cheyney, a text saying to stall Hancock. As soon as I hit send however, someone crashed directly into my right side.

Landing flat on my behind, I muttered curses as I scrambled to get my stuff. Reaching for my phone, muttering prayers for the screen, my hand instead rubbed against another piece of flesh; a hand. I looked up to meet bright cerulean eyes, shielded by thin glass.

Grabbing my phone, he held out his other hand to help me to my feet. Ignoring the gesture, I rose on my own, and brushed off my dark washed dressed pants and white blouse. Reconnecting my eyes to his, I took in his features. He was tall, really tall. Buff as well. He had slick, blackish hair that curled at the tips, and stood with very little confidence. Giving an awkward smile, he held out my phone.

"I'm extremely sorry; I was trying to carry these drinks for my colleagues and- and I didn't see you walking because you're so- so tiny and," His eyes widened after saying that, and as he attempted to recover, I giggled. "I didn't mean- what I'm trying to say is, is that I wasn't focused and I -you aren't small at all." His face flushed in realization as my eyebrows rose in amusement. "You aren't big; that's not-"

"Look, it's fine. I'm okay. Calm down, man." I chuckled, taking my phone. Motioning towards the multiple cups and liquids spilled on the ground, I frowned. "I'm just sorry about your drinks; how much were they? I'll pay for new ones." I reached into my pocket again, pulling out my wallet. "Will a twenty do?"

"That truly isn't necessary. I can just-" He began to pick up the cups, and then threw them away. "I'll find some way to come up with the money."