I nod. “It’d be good to see you guys performing live, and it might give me some ideas for your bigger gigs on the tour.”
He taps the doorframe. “See you in a couple of hours, then.”
I’m then left alone, lost in thought. My mind wanders back to Micah sequestered away in the gym, away from everyone. I wish I’d known what he was struggling with while we were in the car. I could have done something to help him.
I still can.
I’ve spent long enough hiding my powers and prioritizing self-preservation over everything else. Micah seems nice. Gentle. And he’s hurting right now, but I have an idea of how I might help him.
Without telling the others where I’m going, I slip out of the suite and head for the hotel gym.
I find it pretty quickly, keeping my steps light and hurried like I’m afraid someone’s going to catch me in the act and tell me my idea’s a bad one. Stepping into the large, air-conditioned gym, my eyes take in the space and the equipment before landing on the huddled figure in one corner.
Micah’s eyes are closed when I enter, but quickly flick open. His tongue darts out and I can see it’s longer than a human’s and forked at the end, kind of like a snake. He shoots me a wan smile and makes to get up but I hold out my hand to stop him.
“Working out?” he asks. His normally melodic voice sounds more strained than usual.
“No. Me and workouts don’t really go in the same sentence,” I tell him. “I, er, spoke to the guys about the car ride here.” I’m feeling supremely uncomfortable, fully aware that he can probably sense that which is only making things worse.
“The cabin’s pretty big,” he replies. “I just need some time to decompress.”
“Right.” I nod. “I have an idea that might help you.”
He raises an eyebrow, barely moving his head as though he’s struggling with a migraine.
“I don’t know if Dorian told you about what happened when we met in the elevator,” I continue. “But I have... some magic. My mom was human, and I never met my dad, so whatever type of supe he was is a mystery to me. I can, uh, pump out different emotions. I can’t, like, control your mind or anything, but I can sway how you’re feeling or for you, I could dampen things a bit if they’re overwhelming?”
I’m babbling and I know it, but I’ve spent so long either hating my magic or pretending like it doesn’t exist, I’m feeling a lot of things about using it explicitly.
But Dorian’s words from yesterday stuck in my brain like a barb. There’s so many things I could do with my magic that aren’t outright manipulation or for other people’s gain.
I could actually help people feel better.
Like Micah, right now.
He can clearly sense all the mess of emotions that are churning through my insides and he smiles softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand.
“Thank you. I appreciate the thought. But I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
“It’s fine.” I shake my head. “I guess it’s just like tensing muscles I’m not used to using. It might feel a little weird, but that’s not a bad thing.”
He eyes me carefully for a moment and I take a second to scan his features. Up close, he’s still breathtakingly beautiful, like he was sculpted by the gods. But I also notice smaller details that I hadn’t taken in before. There are lines around his eyes and his skin is paler than usual. His hands are still shaking slightly and it’s making me want to pull him into a hug.
“Shall we try this, then?” I ask, taking a steadying breath and sliding to the floor beside him.
“If that’s what you want, we’ll try it,” he says.
I nod, fully aware he’s humoring me right now. It tells you a lot about someone for them to be in pain, but to go along with someone else’s bullshit. If it were the other way around, I’d have told him to fuck off and leave me alone. But he’s a better person than I am, that’s for sure.
I take hold of his hand and squeeze it between both of mine, closing my eyes and feeling my way to the well of magic that lives just below my ribs.
I then focus my power directly at Micah, all the comforting, cozy feelings I can pull up at a moment’s notice.
The feeling of sitting on a cushioned window seat while it drizzles outside, a blanket around my legs and a book in my lap.
A steaming cup of thick hot chocolate, made from pure chocolate flakes and with the milk slowly heated over the stove.
A picnic blanket under a shaded tree in the spring sunshine.
