[after knowing clark for a few months he finally asked you out]

after a long night of working on a paper you had to write for the planet, you had to go into work. your eyes were bloodshot from the countless hours of working behind a screen and writing whatever you could. as the elevator brought you up to the level you worked at, you constantly tapped your foot on the ground, your body not used to the amount of caffeine you consumed.

the doors slowly opened to reveal people walking around to their desks or to the copier. you clicked your pen and also started towards your desk when the famous reporter, clark kent, walked up to you. he had a small, awkward looking smile, "uh- hey y/n, good morning."

you turned to look at him, to drive forward your usual chipper mood you forced a smile as well. of course clark could see right through you, "well it seems like now a good morning for you, everything okay?"

as soon as he said those few simple words you immediately started ranting about the paper you had to write and how much you hated it and wanted to get your mind off of it. "how about, we go to dinner?" clark suggested and i shrugged, "sure i can bring my frien-"

he rolled his eyes, "no, just the both of us." you tilted your head a little, filtering in what he had just said. "well than yes, i'd love to go," you bite your lip a little and head towards your desk. his smile grew a bit wider and he fist pumped the air.