Trying (Clark Kent x Reader)

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"Hey... I know you don't want to see me, but I just want to let you know that you haven't heard the full story...."

Click

"Hey Y/N, please.... I miss you. I really like you... Hell, I love you..." A deep sigh was heard on the other end "Just call me back, Ok?"

Click

"Please Y/N... I'm falling apart... Please—I sound really pathetic but I really... I need you. Please call me."

Click

"Why aren't you calling me back?" Clark slurred on the other end "I didn't kiss her! She kissed me! Please... Why...."

Click

"Hey... I'm sorry about the last call... I was drunk, I don't know anymore. Please call back."

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"Hey Clark, I decided I'm willing to listen to your explanation. Meet me at tomorrow around 4pm the cafe on the corner that we went on our first date. Don't be late."

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"Y/N sorry, I didn't get your voicemail until last night. Can we meet again? Sorry... Same time, same place, tomorrow."

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"Y/N? You haven't returned my calls, are we still meeting today? Call me back if yes."

Click

Clark sighed as he set the phone down and stared at out the skyline.

He felt as if someone tapped a bowling ball on his chest and he swallowed a truck.

It felt heavy if grief of his mistake for invite that girl in.

She hated Y/N.

What did he think was going to happen?

Clark clenched his fist as he thought about his mistake.

With a last sigh, looking at the clock that read '4:12' he flicked on the TV.

"At the corner of the Evergreen Street, The Local Cafe, a recent shooting happened. 7 dead, 13 injured." The reporter said.

Clark felt as if he was frozen, goosebumps crawled up his skin as he felt his heart pound in anticipation.

"Jonathan Skyler, Amy Dosent, Y/N L/N."

Clark felt his heart drop to his feet.

"It was all my fault..." He mumbled as they showed the dead bodies.

In the corner of the TV, he saw a familiar h/c head.

"No... No, no, no..." He muttered at he grabbed his shoes and ran down the street.

The head of Y/N's messy ponytail was all he needed to see when he flew away to isolation.

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