"Incredible Lightness of Being: that feeling that is a part of the human spirit, that ingrained nature within us that knows when something is right and just."
Dawn was playing its overture when she woke and found him missing from her bed. Her heart gave a painful lurch, and she fought the emotions crashing over her, the enormity of her actions striking her hard before she found him standing by the window.
He was half dressed in unfastened jeans with the vivid primary colored fabric of his undershirt draped over his shoulder and the golden light made his skin glow like an otherworldly force.
"I should go, my folks are probably worried sick," he spoke without turning to look at her and she closed her eyes before answering.
"I'm sure they are," she wanted to say more but found herself unable to find the words as her hand closed over the soft flannel of his shirt pulling it on desperately trying to cover herself. Her hands trembled and she struggled to fasten the buttons without looking at him. In the blink of an eye he was kneeling on the floor in front of her like a supplicant in front of an altar. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that speed thing. Here and gone again in a blink," she babbled a bit forcing another button closed before he spoke halting her hands with his own.
"Don't," His voice was whisper soft and faded into a tense silence for a long moment until he began to speak again with a rush of breath. "I try so hard to be normal but it just gets harder to pretend; it's like I'm suffocating. It drove Pete and me apart because he couldn't handle it, it was why I kept Lana away from me, why I always held back. But something about what happened last night feels right, feels like," she interrupted suddenly understanding.
"You're leaving." She could see it in his face, the denial he wanted to make being held back by the truth she'd already seen. Somehow she understood that he wasn't ready, maybe never would be, to have someone know him as intimately well as what they shared required.
"I have to," He lifted her chin and brushed her hair from her face. "For the first time in as long as I can remember it feels like I can breathe. You gave me that freedom." He kissed her softly his hands going to her hips as her arms wrapped around his neck tipping back so he was leaning against the night table with her in his lap.
She whimpered as he pulled her toward him; it was a revelation to Clark, the way women made tiny noises that in men would be unexceptional, but that in women are heart-wrenching things. He kissed her, years and years of unstolen kisses his for the taking now, over and over; he kissed her like it was the last time and she clung to him in a dizzy sort of whirl.
He pulled open the shirt she wore and pushed it back off her shoulders dipping her back over his arm effortlessly before nuzzling her bare skin. Somehow the fact that it was a sunny April morning, still early enough for the breeze to be chilly, rendered the desire she felt even more inappropriate. As though lust were like hard liquor, and nine-thirty was just too early in the day for a decent person to be having it. She struggled for words as he continued his onslaught something niggling at her even as her denial melted away. Each touch burned into her memory as the last, in each caress pleasure and loss warred for supremacy.
"My dad," she gasped arching involuntarily when his mouth found her center her body held aloft effortlessly as if levitated by a stage magician.
"He isn't home yet." Clark answered without needed clarification; bringing her to orgasm with his mouth and hands, fingers embedded in her satiny warmth. He lowered her gently, draping her over himself like a shroud and with one liquid thrust he was inside her. She curled against him bonelessly, her face hidden against his throat.
The silence and stillness seemed to last forever as if he was willing himself to remain still, to hold her until she was ready to let him go.
"Move," her voice was whisper soft and husky with tears but it spurred him forward; he kissed her tasting tears, consuming her sobs his eyes locked with hers until they tumbled over the edge together what felt like an eternity later. Hey sat in silence, still joined as if not wanting to let go for what seemed like eternity until suddenly he cocked his head to one side and dipped his head resting his forehead against hers.
"Someone just pulled into your driveway," He didn't finish the thought and she pushed herself back leaning against the bed her knees tucked against her chest.
"Go, before he comes upstairs," he nodded rising above her fastening his jeans and pulling the retrieved T-shirt over his head. He bent and kissed her again his lips brushing across her forehead in an almost brotherly fashion before he disappeared.
Chloe could hear her father as he entered the house, smelled the coffee as he turned on the pot but didn't make a move to get off the floor as the world came awake around her.
"You awake kiddo?" Her dad's knock startled her and she barely found her voice to respond.
"Sort of," she choked a little on the words and let her head drop to her knees before continuing. "I'll be down as soon as I grab a shower." For a long moment Gabe didn't respond as if sensing something from the far side of her door, as though he could hear a shattered quality in her voice.
"I'm making pancakes," he said and she could hear him move away after another pause. Once she was sure he was gone she slipped out of her room and into the shower letting the scalding water drown out the sound of her tears.
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