superman⁸

The fires had mostly died down, but the city still trembled with the echo of chaos. Sirens wailed in the distance, smoke clung to the night sky, and yet the crowd had their eyes fixed upward, searching for the figure that never failed to come.

Superman landed heavily, dust rising around him. His jaw was tight, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. For a moment, he stood still, scanning the street with eyes that finally softened when they found her.

She pushed through the crowd, clothes torn and streaked with ash. The moment she reached him, everything else vanished. He lifted a hand as if he needed to make sure she was real.

“You’re safe,” he murmured, relief breaking through his tired voice.

She swallowed hard, her own hands trembling. “I should be the one asking that. The whole city almost fell apart, and all I could think was… what if this time you don’t come back?”

He almost smiled, but it faded quickly. He wanted to hold her, to stay, to breathe her in until the noise disappeared. For one fleeting second, he let himself wrap his arms around her, pressing her close, memorizing the warmth of her against him.

But then he pulled back, his gaze heavy with regret. “There’s more. I can’t stop now. They still need me.”

Her chest tightened. She wanted to beg him not to go, but she could see it in his eyes—the unbearable weight he carried, the duty that would never let him rest. Still, she managed a whisper, raw and fragile: “And what about me? Don’t I need you too?”

His breath caught, and for a second it looked like that question shattered him more than any enemy ever could. He cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a smear of ash.

“You do,” he admitted softly. “More than I deserve. That’s why I have to come back.”

And before she could say another word, he leaned in, pressed a lingering kiss against her forehead, and then was gone—lifting into the sky, leaving her with the sound of his heartbeat still echoing against her skin waiting for him