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The Last Guardian (Ch. 9)
🕑 Added 2025-12-04 04:11:11 +0000 UTC( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )
The Last Guardian
Chapter 9
Lana woke up confused. The first thing she felt was weight and warmth. The second thing was a hard muscle under her cheek, breathing in and out. She could instantly tell that it was Harry underneath her. He had his own natural scent that Lana particularly loved. Her arm was draped across his chest, her leg thrown over both of his, and her pelvis was pressed right up against something that made her stomach do a slow somersault.
She didn't move. It was too embarrassing. She’d fallen asleep on the couch, tightly clinging to Harry. He was breathing slowly. His mouth was slightly open, his hair was in complete disarray, and his body was wrapped around her like a blanket. Lana tried to focus on the sound of his breathing, but her brain had already noticed something else … her own body’s reaction to him.
Her nipples, pressed under two layers of fabric, were stiff and tingly. Her thighs squeezed around his, and the inside of her underwear felt embarrassingly wet. She tried to shift her hips back, but his arm was slung around her waist, keeping her pressed against him. Harry’s body was really warm. His hand was resting on the small of her back, and the tips of his fingers were brushing against the bare skin between the top of her jeans and the bottom of her shirt.
Lana’s cheeks went red. She peeked at his face, and for a second, forgot how to breathe. His eyes were closed, and his dark lashes were long and thick. There was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, like he was having a nice dream. She wanted to touch his jaw, maybe kiss the corner of his mouth, but her courage withered. Instead, she stared, pretending she wasn’t as into this as she actually was.
Her heart thudded loud enough to wake the dead. She tried to focus on something boring, like calculus, but it didn’t help. The rise and fall of his chest made her breasts move with him. She thought about moving, but she didn't want to. There was a pleasant comfort in being held so tightly.
Soft morning light came in through the space between the curtains, leaving a golden slash across her living room floor. Harry’s breathing changed, and for a second, Lana panicked. She shut her eyes and pretended to sleep. He gave a soft grunt, then shifted his hips. His thigh slipped between hers, and the pressure made her shudder. Lana bit her lip but didn’t move. Harry’s thumb brushed across her side just under her ribs. She had to think about hungry orphans and pop quizzes to keep herself from losing it.
He yawned, and there was a flash of green light behind her eyelids, like a camera flash. Suddenly, Lana’s mouth felt fresh and clean, like she’d just used mouthwash. Every tooth felt polished, and her tongue tingled. She almost laughed, but held it in. She pretended to wake up, blinking slowly. Harry was staring at the ceiling, his face slack and dreamy.
She lifted her head, her dark hair sticking up in every direction, and made a weak attempt to keep some dignity. “Sorry,” she said in a raspy, tired voice. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you … or, um … to crush you.”
Harry turned to her, his green eyes barely open, and smiled teasingly. “You’re not crushing me, but if you want to give it a try, I’m not going to stop you.”
Lana’s face burned. His tired voice was even sexier than his normal voice, Lana discovered. She rolled off him, a little too fast, and almost fell off the couch. She sat up, pulling her shirt down and covering her belly. Harry followed, propping himself up on his elbows while watching her.
He stretched, and the shirt pulled up his stomach, exposing a slice of pale skin and the top of his hips. Lana looked away, very aware of the damp spot between her legs. She rubbed her eyes and tried to get her bearings. Harry didn’t move, just kept watching her with that sleepy half-grin. “Good morning,” he said.
She risked a glance at him. “Good morning.”
They sat in silence for a second. Lana’s mind screamed at her to say something, anything. She settled for “Did you sleep okay?”
Harry nodded. “It was great. You’re really warm.” His eyes lingered on her face, then dropped to her mouth. “You have the best bed-head I’ve ever seen, by the way.”
She snorted while frantically smoothing out her messy hair. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’ve been called worse,” he said and yawned again.
She shook her head and stood, stretching her back and shoulders. “Do you want coffee?” she asked as she moved toward the kitchen.
“That sounds good,” Harry said, rubbing his tired eyes with the butts of his palms.
In the kitchen, Lana poured water into the coffeemaker with trembling hands. She tried to ignore the heat spreading in her chest and between her legs. She thought about what it would be like to crawl back onto the couch, straddle his hips, and just let go. The mental image made her knees weak. Lana took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She was being ridiculous.
She put two mugs on the counter, then realized her underwear was sticking out above the waistband of her jeans. She yanked her shirt down, but it was too late. She caught Harry watching her from across the room. He comically wiggled his eyebrows, which made her blush and turn away. She huffed when she heard him chuckle.
She brought him a cup, handed it over, and sat close enough that their legs touched. They drank in silence, both still tired. The apartment was calm. The storm outside had passed, leaving everything wet and bright. Lana sipped her coffee and stared at Harry’s hands. She tried not to think about how good they’d felt on her skin or how they’d held her all night. She tried and failed miserably.
Harry finished his coffee and set the mug in the sink. His spine popped as he stretched his arms overhead. He yawned and padded over to the window. He pulled aside the curtain. The early morning light made him squint. The sun was just rising over the distant tree tops. Main Street looked like a disaster zone. Wet branches were scattered across the asphalt. A garbage can lay on its side, and soggy newspapers were fused to the curb. The sign on the bakery’s awning flapped by a single screw. The sky was stripped clean by the wind, with not a cloud in sight.
Lana silently joined him. She stood close enough that her shoulder pressed against his bicep. He could feel the tension in her muscles. She stared at the chaos, her eyes wide and surprised. “It’s worse than I thought,” she said. Her voice was low.
Harry nodded. “I’m glad it’s Sunday. I wouldn’t fancy going to school in this mess.”
She didn’t laugh. She touched the glass with her fingertips, staring past the wreckage. He looked at her and studied her expression. The fear from last night wasn’t gone. It simmered under the surface, showing in the tightness of her jaw and the way she held her breath. He wanted to try to make her feel better, but he waited.
Lana turned to him. “Harry? What am I supposed to do?” Her lips trembled. “He’s still out there. Whoever it was. He knows where I live. What if he tries again?”
Harry met her gaze. “He won’t,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She searched his face. She wanted to believe him, but it wasn’t like he could always be here. As if he was reading her mind, he asked, “Do you want me to stay with you? Just until you feel safe.”
Lana hesitated, then nodded. Her blush rose, staining her neck and cheeks. She said nothing, but stepped up and pressed against his chest. Her arms slipped around his waist. He returned her hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. Her body shook once, then relaxed. He held her. His hand traced slow, careful circles between her shoulder blades. Lana’s breath steadied. She pressed her ear against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
The Last Guardian
Lana had no intention of getting out of bed. While their first night together on the couch was really nice, the following morning was quite embarrassing for her. It was the first time she had ever woken up next to a man, so she wasn’t used to it. When Harry agreed to stay with her, she didn’t really think about their sleeping arrangements. She told him that he could sleep in the bed, and she’d sleep on the couch. Harry replied that he’d take the couch. After some back-and-forth, Lana said they could share the bed. Now that she knew what was in store, she felt she could handle it better. The first night, she made an effort to keep space between them. The second night, there was much less space between them, and she woke up pressed against his side. After that, she decided to throw caution to the wind. Lana was sick of trying to deny her attraction to him. She’d do whatever felt right and deal with the consequences later.
She was still bundled up against Harry with her nose pressed under his jaw, and her limbs entangled with his. The alarm on her nightstand went off at six. Lana slammed her hand down on it, then let herself drift right back to sleep. She didn’t know that Harry was already awake and just lying there, waiting to see what she’d do.
At seven, the alarm on her phone went off. She ignored it. Harry snorted and tightened his grip. He played with the small hairs on the back of her neck, making her mewl into his neck. He enjoyed the warmth of her soft body. At nine, there was a loud crash of breaking plates down in the Talon, which had reopened with Clark’s mom running things, and this time she bolted upright, wild-eyed with her hair sticking up in every direction.
“Oh my god,” she said, scrambling to untangle herself from Harry and the thick blanket. “I overslept. I’m going to be late.”
Harry blinked, feigning confusion. “I thought today was Saturday.”
She glared at him, finger-combing her hair. “It’s Wednesday! We have school, you idiot!” She jumped out of bed, winced at the chill in the room, and started frantically searching for something to wear. She nearly tripped over her shoes as she scrambled around the room.
Harry stayed in bed and yawned. “It’s fine. I’m sure you’re not the only one who is …” he checked the clock “ … two hours late.”
Lana went pale. “Two hours?”
He picked up her phone and showed it to her. The display said 9:07. She smacked it out of his hand. “That’s your fault for keeping me up so late,” she said in a panic.
He rolled over and covered his face with Lana’s pillow. It smelled really good. “What can I say? My childhood tales are riveting.”
She disappeared into the bathroom. The shower turned on, and he heard her jump inside. Harry waited, still sprawled on the bed, listening to Lana curse and fumble with her hair dryer and the zipper of her jeans. She flew out of the bathroom a minute later, wearing a gray t-shirt, tight jeans, and a towel around her neck. “Dang it! I forgot deodorant,” she hissed and went back into the bathroom.
Harry started to laugh. She came out, saw his smile, and glared harder. “Why are you so calm? We’re late, Harry!”
“Because I care about school way less than you do,” Harry said with a smile.
She checked for her keys, wallet, and phone, then reached for her shoes. “Hurry up and get dressed, or I’m leaving you behind.”
He sat up, stretched, and with a flash of green light, was suddenly in his jeans and a t-shirt. She gave him an exasperated look.
“That’s cheating,” Lana muttered. “I want that power.”
Harry shrugged and picked up her bag for her. She snatched it from his hand and stomped out the door. Harry followed, smiling to himself. He liked seeing her like this. It was quite endearing.
They barely made it to her car. Lana fumbled with her keys, then dropped them twice in the parking lot. Harry picked them up the second time and calmly handed them over. Lana snatched them back and jammed the key into the ignition. The engine coughed and shuddered to life. She hit the gas, peeled out of the parking lot, and made a hard right onto Main Street.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she demanded, eyes locked on the road.
“I woke you up yesterday, and you almost bit my finger,” Harry said, deadpan.
She gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles went white. “That’s because you were tickling my nose. You could’ve just poked me, or … or set an alarm, or something.”
“You did set an alarm,” Harry pointed out. “You ignored it.”
Lana huffed and blew a lock of hair from her eyes. “You should have tried harder. You’re the one who kept me up until one in the morning talking about haunted castles and dragons and stuff.”
He shrugged. “I thought you liked my stories.”
She side-eyed him, then softened a little. “I do, but I also like graduating.”
Harry nodded, then turned his attention to the world outside the windshield. The town was still messed up from the storm. Tree limbs littered the sides of the roads, and the traffic lights at the intersection flashed uselessly. The school’s parking lot was already packed. Lana squeezed her car into the first open spot she found, then yanked the keys out and sprinted for the front doors. Harry trailed behind at a more reasonable pace, enjoying the cool morning. Lana made it through the main entrance and stopped dead. Harry nearly ran into her. She fumbled with her phone again and double-checked the time.
“There’s a test in third period. If I miss it, Ms. Crampton will murder me,” she said, panic creeping into her voice.
Harry tried not to smile. “You can always copy off me.”
She stared at him, her lovely eyes narrow. “You’d fail on purpose just to watch me squirm.”
“You give me too much credit. I’d fail because I forgot to study,” he said with a smile. Lana snorted and smacked his arm.
She made a beeline for her locker, spinning the combination with muscle memory. Harry leaned against the neighboring locker and watched her stuff her bag inside. She slammed it shut, adjusted her shirt, and took off down the hall without looking back. Harry snorted and shook his head. Lana in crisis mode was the purest form of entertainment there was. He took his time getting to his own class.
Smallville High was the same as always. The halls were noisy and loud. Harry drifted to class, sat in the back, and tried to nap with his eyes open. After the bell rang, Chloe slid into the seat next to him.
“You stayed up all night again, huh?” Chloe asked, dropping her bag with a thud. “Still, you look better than you did yesterday.”
Harry cracked one eye open. “That’s the worst compliment I’ve ever heard.”
She shrugged, not smiling. “I just call it like I see it.”
He studied her. There was something off about her today. Chloe was usually sharp, sarcastic, and bubbly, but today she looked bummed. Her eyes were dim, and the corners of her mouth were tilted slightly downward. He waited for her to say more, but she just stared straight ahead, hands folded in her lap.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, genuinely.
She kept her eyes on the chalkboard. “Nothing,” Chloe said, but her voice was too flat for him to believe it. He waited, and she cracked first. “It’s just … Clark,” she finally said.
“What about him?”
Chloe picked at the edge of her sleeve. “Ever since he made the football team, it’s like … he doesn’t have time for anything else. He even quit the Torch this morning.” The Torch was the school’s newspaper, and Chloe was the Editor-in-Chief.
Harry nodded. He’d seen this type of thing before. “People get weird about sports … or so I’ve been told.” He remembered back to his Quidditch days with Oliver Wood.
She snorted. “Yeah, well, it’s Smallville. If you don’t play football, you’re basically invisible.” Her lips pressed together.
Harry remembered what Lana had told him about Chloe’s thing for Clark. “Maybe he’s just busy. Maybe he’ll come around.”
She looked at him. “I don’t think he will.”
Harry put a hand on her forearm. “It’s his loss.”
She gave a wobbly smile. “Thanks.” Then she looked at his hand on her arm, then back at his face. “You know, you’re one of the few in this school who doesn’t think I’m a total freak for taking journalism seriously.”
He shrugged. “I’ve always liked freaks.”
She almost laughed, but the teacher came in and smacked the attendance clipboard on the desk. “Quiet,” the teacher said, looking directly at Harry. “We’re starting.”
Harry lowered his hand. Chloe sat up straighter and tried to look attentive, but Harry could feel her mind racing with a thousand worries. He thought about helping, but he decided to let her process it for herself.
Class dragged on. He filled out the answers in record time, then spent the rest of the hour doodling on the back of his worksheet. When the bell rang, Chloe waited for him outside the classroom. She didn’t say anything, but when he caught up, she fell in beside him.
In the hall, a weird energy buzzed. Harry saw a group of football players clustering by the vending machines. They were waiting on a pack of cheerleaders, who giggled and pranced around in front of them. However, the dynamic was off. The football players weren’t hitting on them or even joking. They just stood there, smiling and nodding at every word the cheerleaders said.
Harry watched for a second, then nudged Chloe. “What’s up with that?”
Chloe squinted at the group. “They’ve been doing that all day. My guess is someone spiked the Gatorade with horse tranquilizers.”
Harry snorted. “Should we call animal control?”
Chloe smiled. “I’m more concerned about the cheerleaders. They’re usually the ones who run the school, but this is … excessive.” She watched as one of the football players bent down to tie a cheerleader’s shoe, then followed her down the hallway with puppy-dog eyes.
“See what I mean?” Chloe whispered. “It’s like they’re hypnotized.”
Harry watched a little longer. He didn’t know much about American schools, but even he could tell that this was bizarre. The cheerleaders didn’t seem to notice, or maybe they liked the attention.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Come on. Our next class is on the other side of the building. If we run, we can make it.”
He let her drag him through the hallways, weaving between clusters of students and slipping past the late bell. She led him to chemistry, where the teacher already had beakers bubbling and was yelling at an idiot for heating a penny over a Bunsen burner. Harry took his seat at the back and wondered how Lana was doing in her own classes.
After the final bell, Chloe stood up and sighed. “I need to work on the Torch for a bit. You want to come with?”
Harry shrugged and nodded. “Sure. It’s better than wandering the halls aimlessly.”
They made their way to the journalism room. Chloe opened her laptop and started typing furiously. She glanced at Harry every so often, as if checking to make sure he was still there. After a few minutes, she said, “Hey, you want to see something weird?”
Harry grinned. “Is it a picture of Clark in a tutu? Because that would make my day.”
She smiled a little. “No, but close.” She turned her screen so Harry could see. On it was a draft of her latest story for the Torch.
It read, “Quarterback Tries to Shoot Coach with Shotgun.”
Harry laughed. “Is that real?”
Chloe nodded. “It happened yesterday. The star quarterback actually brought a shotgun to practice and tried to turn the coach into Swiss cheese.” She scrolled down and pointed to a quote. “No one even blinked. They just suspended him and carried on.”
“Who is this coach?” Harry asked.
Chloe’s face went dark. “He used to be Lana’s boyfriend. Now he’s stuck here, teaching PE and coaching football. That’s weird, right?”
“That’s … awkward,” Harry said. From what Lana had told him, Harry knew Jason worked at the school, but he was unaware that he was a coach. Frankly, Harry found it quite creepy that he continued to hang around. Still, he gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he couldn’t afford to move just yet.
Chloe’s fingers danced over the keyboard. “You have no idea, but there’s something off about him. He lives here, but I never see him in town, and he’s always watching Lana any time she’s around.”
Harry made a mental note. “Maybe you should lay off investigating him. If there’s something off about him, you shouldn’t risk putting yourself in a bad situation.”
She snorted. “Please. I can handle myself. Besides, no one is more careful than I am,” she said with a smile. For some reason, Harry didn’t believe her. “I need to go get some quotes. You want to come and see a real, genuine high school football practice?
“Oh, goody. Just what I always dreamed,” Harry said in a deadpan voice, which made Chloe laugh.
The Last Guardian
Football practice was held in the field behind the school. Harry watched from the sidelines as Chloe tried to talk to Clark, but he was in a rush. It seemed that since the team had lost its starting quarterback, Clark had taken the spot.
A whistle blew, and the team huddled on the sideline. A small group of cheerleaders showed up carrying a yellow water cooler. They set it down on a folding table and placed paper cups on the side. A whistle blasted again, and he watched the practice, not really interested until a water break. All the guys crowded around the big yellow cooler at the fifty-yard line. Harry noticed the color of the drink as one of the guys filled his cup. It was bright green, like antifreeze.
The players chugged it down. Chloe tried to talk to Clark, but Jason was yelling at him to get his ass into gear. Chloe sighed and approached the water cooler. Harry watched as Chloe filled a paper cup and gulped it down, then sighed. She glanced at Clark, then at Harry, and her entire demeanor changed. She stared at Clark with pure adoration, her eyes huge and dreamy. Harry had never seen her look like that. It was like something had turned her into a lovesick puppy.
He watched as she drifted over to Clark, started talking to him, and then started giggling at every stupid thing he said. She was even slightly arching her back to make her boobs look bigger.
Harry shook his head. “What’s going on with her?”
He didn’t have long to wonder. A cold, prickly sensation ran up his spine. He turned and saw Jason Teague standing at the edge of the field, clipboard in hand. Jason’s gaze was fixed on Harry, and there was no warmth in his eyes. Pure hatred radiated from him. He had the look of a man who had already planned Harry’s murder in six different ways.
Harry nodded politely, but Jason didn’t respond. He just stared, tightly clutching the clipboard. It was uncomfortable, but Harry refused to look away. He stared right back. After a long minute, Jason turned and stalked off toward the goalposts.
Harry watched him go, then turned back to the field. Lana was waving at him, motioning for him to come over. He walked toward her, weaving around the crowd. She met him at the edge of the parking lot, still a little out of breath from her meeting with the teacher.
“Sorry, I’m late. Mr. Roberts lectured me on the merits of being punctual, which is funny because he’s always five minutes late to class,” she said with a smile. Everyone knew Mr. Roberts enjoyed his smoke breaks after every class. “Anyway, are you ready to head home?”
Harry took one last look at Chloe, who was bouncing up and down with excitement and shouting words of encouragement at Clark. He wasn’t sure what was going on with her, but he decided to wait and see if she was still acting goofy in the morning. He smiled at Lana. “Sure. Let’s go.”
They started walking back to her car. Behind them, Chloe was still on the field, orbiting Clark like he was her own personal sun.
The Last Guardian
From across the field, Jason watched them go. He tracked every step, every word, every smile. He watched as Lana laughed and clung to Harry’s arm, her head tilted back and her mouth wide open in joy. He watched as Harry bent down and said something that made her laugh even louder.
He clenched his jaw so tight it felt like his teeth would crack. He had warned Lana about Harry. He had told her not to get too close, that he could be dangerous. The guy just happened to show up out of nowhere and steal her away from him? Jason snorted. Yeah, sure. Something was up with him, but of course, she didn’t listen. Nobody ever listened to him. He watched them walk off the field together, Harry’s arm around Lana’s waist. He had warned her.
Jason turned and smacked his clipboard against his thigh. She went back to the cooler and got himself another cold cup of that tasty green stuff. He glared at the field, then back at Harry.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
The Last Guardian
After school the next day, Harry was in the library waiting for Lana when Lois Lane found him. She just barreled in, dropped her messenger bag on the table, and jabbed a finger at his chest.
“You,” she said, “Are coming with me.”
Harry looked up from his book. “Can it wait? I’m doing important research.”
She grabbed his notebook and checked the page. It was covered in doodles of spaceships, stick figure women with large, round boobs, and something that looked suspiciously like the principal with devil horns. “Wow, you really are dedicated to academic excellence, aren’t you?”
Harry closed the book and leaned back. “What’s up, Lois?”
She glanced around, then leaned in. “Have you noticed anything weird about Chloe lately?”
Harry kept his face blank, but his mind raced. “Define weird.”
Lois gripped the edge of the table. “She quit the Torch, Harry. Quit. The. Torch. That’s like Clark deciding to quit football to become a dancer.”
Harry let that mental image settle. “Why’d she do that?”
“She said she wanted to ‘devote herself to Clark’ and that journalism was ‘a waste of time compared to true love.’” Lois’s voice cracked a little at the end. Lois studied him. “You were with her yesterday. Did you see anything?”
“We went to football practice so she could get some quotes about that quarterback guy. She started to look at Clark really strangely,” Harry told her.
“Yeah, and today she showed up at my locker with a poem about Clark’s hair.” Lois looked genuinely shaken. “Have you ever seen Chloe write poetry before?”
Harry shook his head. “She’s more of a snarky headline type.”
Lois stared at the far wall. “So it started yesterday … Did anything weird happen?”
Harry thought for a second. “She drank from the football team’s water cooler before she started acting weird. That stuff was bright green. Do you think it’s a drug or something?”
Lois’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go,” she said, and before he could object, she yanked him out of his seat and dragged him through the library, past the librarian’s withering glare, and out to the back field.
The Last Guardian
The football field was swarming with athletes and coaches. The cheerleaders were practicing near the end zone, doing high kicks with bright, bubbly smiles. The football team did endless wind sprints. Their faces were flushed, and their hair was slick with sweat. On the sideline, the yellow water cooler gleamed in the sun.
Lois led the way, then crouched behind a row of portable bleachers. She poked Harry in the ribs. “There,” she said. “That’s where it’s coming from.”
He peeked out. The team was on break. Several guys crowded around the cooler, filling up paper cups with the bright, alien-looking liquid.
Lois pulled a small plastic cup from her bag. “Cover me,” she whispered.
Harry rolled his eyes. “From what? The hydration police?”
Lois was already moving, ducking low and sprinting for the cooler. She poured herself a cup, sniffed it, and her face twisted. “That is not Gatorade,” she said. “Taste it.”
Harry took the cup from her and tried a sip. It tasted like melted sour apple Jolly Ranchers mixed with something weird-tasting. His tongue tingled, and the inside of his head felt fizzy.
“Gross,” he said, wiping his mouth. “Just a tiny sip made my brain feel kind of fuzzy.”
Lois nodded. “Now we wait,” she said, glancing back at the team.
It didn’t take long. Chloe showed up, wearing a full cheerleader getup, complete with pom-poms. She bounced over, ponytail swinging, and flashed them both a smile.
“Hi, Harry!” she chirped. “Hi, Lois!”
Lois blinked. “Um, hi?”
Chloe giggled, then looked at Harry. “Are you here to see Clark? He’s so dreamy today. Did you know he ran the forty in like four seconds? That’s like, faster than a sports car.”
Harry tried not to laugh. “Impressive.”
Chloe bounced on her toes. “You know what else is impressive? Clark’s hair. I think he started using product, but I’m not supposed to say anything.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s our secret.”
Lois made a face. “Chloe, are you feeling okay?”
Chloe’s eyes went wide. “Of course! I’ve never felt better! I just want Clark to win every game forever.” She stared off into the distance, her eyes glassy. “He’s so perfect.”
Harry shot a look at Lois, who mouthed, “Told you.”
Chloe snapped back to reality. “Oh! Gotta go. Practice is starting!” She ran off, waving at them with both pom-poms. “GO CLARK!” Chloe shouted in the distance, doing a very poor attempt at a jump split.
Harry watched her go. “She’s out of her mind.”
Lois glared at the water cooler. “I’m getting to the bottom of this.” She pulled out her phone and started taking pictures of the cooler, the cups, and the entire sideline setup.
Harry pointed at the field. “You know, you could just ask Clark.”
Lois shook her head. “If Clark were roped into some creepy cheerleader mind-control scheme, he’d be the last to know. The guy’s completely oblivious.”
Harry couldn’t argue with that.
As Lois secured a sample, Jason Teague walked up to the cooler. He wore a whistle and an air of superiority. He saw Harry, then scowled. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Jason said.
Harry shrugged. “I’m just supporting the team.”
Jason sneered. “Is that so?”
Harry smiled and nodded. “I’m bursting with school spirit.” Lois snorted beside him.
Jason poured himself a cup of the green liquid and drank it down in one gulp. He fixed Harry with a cold stare. “You see all of this?” he asked, sweeping his hand to show off the football field. “This is my house, and school spirit won’t save you when you’re in my house.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Did you just threaten me?”
Jason leaned in, voice low. “Stay the hell away from Lana, and stay away from my team.”
Harry didn’t move. “Last I checked, Lana’s not your property.”
Jason’s jaw tightened. He turned, slammed the empty cup into the trash, and stalked off. Lois waited until he was out of earshot before nudging Harry.
“You’ve got a real talent for making friends, you know that?”
Harry grinned. “I try,” he said in an amused voice.
They watched the rest of practice from the stands. The team was a well-oiled machine, executing every drill with precision. The cheerleaders cheered, the football players glistened with sweat, and Chloe lost her mind every time Clark so much as looked in her direction.
When it was over, Harry and Lois watched the team crowd around the cooler one last time. Every single player except Clark filled up a cup, chugged it, and then went directly to the waiting cheerleaders.
Lois stared at the scene and shook her head. “I need to do some research. I want to know what those pom-pom waving bimbos are up to.”
Harry nodded, watching Chloe hang off Clark’s arm as they walked toward the locker rooms. “Should we tell her?” he asked.
Lois shook her head. “Not yet. Let’s wait until we know for sure. Besides, who knows? Maybe Clark will realize that he actually likes her.” Harry doubted it, but he didn’t say so.
They walked off the field together, leaving the bright yellow cooler and its weird green liquid behind.
Comments
Alun Lewis
I wonder if Harry's contemplated about the capabilities of his Lantern ring...including anything chemical analysis related. Because that woyld certainly help solve the mystery of why the cheerleaders are trying to pump the football team full of non-magical Amortentia!
Triton
Really, glowing green water and almost complete change of personality and harry just ignores it, this isn't oblivious anymore is just retard, i know the plot of smallville needed a bit of oblivious to make the episodes longer and everything but harry with all this power and didin"t even noticing things on his front is just lazy or didn't care about anything
Victory For The People
That is a very good point, but at the same time he prolly doesn't make the assumption that science could make a love potion the way magic could. Til he's told by Lois about the chemical makeup he immediately locked in.
Aeden Emrys
Great 😃 to see Lana start to be more proactive in her thoughts on Harry! I really loved the moments they had together in this chapter!
Matthew Johnson
Kinda weird that Harry saw Ron under the influence of love potions and is ignoring the connection
