The Weight of the Kiss [11]

"It was a fun night, wasn't it?" Clark asked as the two left the hall, walking toward the truck.

Chloe, still smiling and with flushed cheeks, answered enthusiastically. "It was incredible! I really didn't expect everything to be so... special."

Clark opened the truck door for Chloe, who got in with a bright smile. He walked around and got in on the driver's side. He started the engine, and the smooth hum of the truck filled the silence.

Vroom!

As he drove, Clark glanced at Chloe, who seemed lost in thought, smiling to herself. Inside the truck, the atmosphere was calm, but in Clark's mind, there was a slight tension.

'How should I handle this now?' Clark thought, his hands steady on the wheel, but his mind focused on the events of the night. He knew how important Chloe was to him, but a question lingered: remain just friends or try something more?

Clark kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts were distant. 'She deserves someone who's honest with her,' he reflected. 'But am I that person?'

He remembered everything he knew from the show, how things had played out for the original Clark and Chloe. 'Maybe I shouldn't follow the same path,' he thought, feeling the weight of the decision in his hands.

Chloe looked at Clark, noticing the silence. "Is everything okay? You seem a little distant."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Clark replied, smiling softly. "Just thinking a little."

"About what?" Chloe asked, curious, but with a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"About how good the night was..." Clark dodged, not wanting to reveal his thoughts completely at that moment.

Chloe smiled. "I think so too. It was better than I expected."

As they neared Chloe's house, Clark realized the decisive moment was approaching. He smoothly parked the truck in front of her house, the porch lights glowing faintly in the late night.

"We're here," Clark said, turning to Chloe. She looked at him, still smiling, but clearly expecting something more from that moment.

Clark leaned in slightly, moving closer to her. "Good night, Chloe," he said in a soft tone before giving her a gentle kiss on the lips, unhurried but with the same sincerity he had shown throughout the night.

Chloe blushed deeply, surprised but happy. "Good night, Clark," she murmured, smiling shyly as she opened the truck door.

Clark watched her step out of the vehicle and run toward the house, glancing back one last time with a radiant smile before going inside.

'I hope I made the right decision,' Clark thought, sighing as he watched Chloe disappear through the front door. He knew that kiss changed something between them, but he wasn't sure how it would unfold. As he started the engine again and drove home, the sound of the motor filled the silence, but his mind kept spinning with thoughts of Chloe.

...

Lana was in her room, still frustrated and disappointed with the night's events. The dance she had been so looking forward to had passed, and Whitney couldn't accompany her because of the fight with Clark. She sighed, feeling the sadness tighten in her chest as she headed to the bathroom to take a relaxing shower.

The hot water cascaded down her shoulders, soothing some of the tension she carried. Her thoughts, however, remained stuck on what had happened. 'Clark really changed. He shouldn't have acted that way... or do I just not understand who he is anymore?' She sighed again, trying to push those thoughts aside as she closed her eyes and let the water wash over her face.

After a few minutes, Lana turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a soft towel. As she left the bathroom, still drying her hair, something unexpected caught her attention. In the middle of the room, there was a small gift box on the bed. Confused, she slowly walked over to the bed, looking at the box with curiosity.

"What's this?" Lana murmured to herself, furrowing her brow as she picked up the box. She carefully lifted the lid, and suddenly, several colorful butterflies flew out, filling the room with a magical display of vibrant wings.

Lana was momentarily speechless, her expression shifting from confusion to awe as she watched the butterflies flutter around, filling the room with an unexpected beauty.

"How beautiful," Lana whispered, captivated by the lightness and delicacy of the butterflies. For a moment, the sadness and frustration she felt melted away, replaced by the enchantment of the moment.

Outside, Greg Arkin stood silently, hidden in a tree near Lana's house, holding a camera in his hand. He watched the scene through the lens, a satisfied smile on his face as he filmed every movement of Lana opening the box and being mesmerized by the butterflies.

"Perfect..." Greg murmured to himself, adjusting the focus on the camera to capture Lana's smile. He was obsessed with her, and to him, this gesture, though meant as a display of affection, had something unsettling about it.

After a few minutes of filming, Greg stowed the camera, pleased with what he had captured. With quick and silent movements, he climbed down from the tree and walked to the car parked a little farther from the house. As he got into the vehicle, his thoughts remained fixed on Lana and what he would do next.

Greg started the car and, with one last glance at her house, drove away, planning his next step in his obsession.

...

Clark drove back to the farm, the sound of the truck's engine filling the quiet of the night. The streetlights passed by him as the fields surrounding Smallville remained calm under the glow of the stars. As he was immersed in his thoughts about the night with Chloe, something caught his attention.

Vroom

Clark passed a car on the road, and for a brief moment, he glanced at the driver. There was something familiar about the man's face, but he couldn't quite place it. "Where have I seen this guy before?" Clark muttered, frowning as he tried to remember.

However, the thought soon faded. "Must be my imagination," he said to himself, refocusing on the road ahead.

Soon, he arrived at the Kent farm, and the house lights were still on, even with the late hour. Clark turned off the truck's engine and stepped out of the vehicle, noticing his mother, Martha, sitting on the porch with a cup of tea in her hands.

"Mom, you should be asleep," Clark said, approaching her with a mildly reproachful smile. "You didn't have to wait up for me."

Martha looked up at her son and smiled warmly. "I wanted to know how the dance went. You know I like hearing about how things are going for you."

Clark sat down next to her, feeling the calm of the night around them. "It was good. Chloe had a great time."

"I knew she would," Martha said, her eyes gleaming. "And you, Clark? How was it for you?"

Clark shrugged, looking up at the starry sky. "It was... different. But it was good. I needed a quiet night."

Martha nodded, understanding there was more behind her son's words, but she didn't press him. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Clark looked back at his mother, his smile now more sincere. "Me too. Thanks for everything, Mom."

"Now go get some rest, Clark. Tomorrow's a new day," Martha said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

Clark stood up, ready to head to his room, but not before looking back one more time, appreciating how nice it was to have a mother who was always there for him, even in the simplest moments. "Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, Clark."

With that, Clark entered the house, climbing the stairs slowly, feeling the weight of the night finally settle on him. As he lay down on his bed, thoughts of the driver he'd seen on the road briefly resurfaced, but they were soon erased by exhaustion. "I'll figure it out tomorrow," he murmured before closing his eyes and letting sleep take over.

...

Greg parked the car in front of his house, the engine softly humming before he shut it off. He got out of the vehicle, still with a satisfied smile on his face, thinking about Lana and what he had just filmed.

As soon as he opened the door, Greg stopped abruptly. Sitting on the living room sofa, his mother was watching TV. The familiar sound of a VHS tape filled the room, and to Greg's shock, the video she was watching showed Lana.

"What is this, Greg?" his mother asked, without taking her eyes off the screen, her tone a mix of disapproval and confusion. "Are you stalking this girl?"

"Mom, what are you doing with that?" Greg asked, his voice revealing a mix of fear and irritation. He took a step forward, but his mother only shook her head.

"You know how weird this is? Filming a girl without her knowing... This isn't normal, Greg!" She pressed the remote and paused the video, looking at him with a disappointed expression.

"You never understand anything!" Greg shot back, anger bubbling up as his mind processed the idea that she had invaded his privacy. "You don't understand how I feel!"

"I understand that this isn't healthy!" she retorted, standing up from the couch, facing her son. "You're acting like a crazy person, Greg!"

Greg, unable to face his mother's disappointment and criticism, turned abruptly and ran toward his room, his heart pounding.

"Greg!" she called after him, but he had already disappeared up the stairs, ignoring her pleas.

Once inside his room, Greg slammed the door shut, breathing heavily. The room was stuffy, and the soft sound of insects crawling filled the air. The space was dark, except for the faint light filtering through the window. The walls were covered with terrariums and cages, where insects of all kinds crawled and flew, filling the room.

Greg looked at the insects, his face softening as he watched them intently. He approached one of the cages, where a large beetle crawled slowly across the glass.

"You're my only friends," Greg murmured, his fingers sliding across the surface of the terrarium, watching the insects with a vacant stare. "Only you understand me."

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