touch

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And you stood there in front of me

Just close enough to touch

Close enough to hope you couldn't see

What I was thinking of

I remember trying to find a surge protector, something that would prevent me from short-circuiting all your stolen games machines. I didn't dare to hope for anything more.

We were smart enough to know that making an electrokinetic mutant try on various types of non-fireproof gloves on a dry summer night, next to a house (with your little sister Lorna playing in the kitchen) without a fire extinguisher wasn't the smartest idea in the world.

But I was definitely desperate enough to try.

"Whoa!" You jumped back as the oven mitts I was wearing burst into flames. Not that you needed to. You were already standing the required two feet away from me. The fire was different on this one - it flickered up my arms like ribbons. You stared at them, transfixed, the light turning your eyes a dazzling shade of amber. I had the sudden urge to make that color into a pen or something, or better yet, bottle it up so I'd never forget it.

I shook my head in frustration and waited for the fire to extinguish itself. It didn't do much except make me feel so powerful, yet at the same time, so useless. How could the universe or the genetic pool or whatever given me the power to blow any fuse I got close to but no possible way to control it?

You were talking animatedly, going especially fast whenever you made a point. I loved the way your face lit up whenever you were excited. "But seriously though, Blackout, you're way cool. I mean, it's like, you just touch anything and bam! It explodes or burns up or –"

I scraped the charred remains of the mitts off my hands onto the trash pile, which consisted of the remains of gloves of every imaginable type you had rustled from who knows where. I looked at you blankly. "Dies?" I said quietly, but not sadly. What was the point of being sad over something that happened all the time?

You were right in front of me, an arm's length away. Just enough for you to reach out and touch my face, to hug me and tell me everything would be okay, to look at me, God, look at me close enough to know you were special to me.

You were so close, yet so painfully, damnably, impossibly far.

"Y/N." you said, your voice unusually calm. "I don't care about what you've done. I'm going to help you control your powers, I swear. Just, to be honest, I don't know how to help you when you're so powerful–"

The worst thing about you was that you were right nearly all the time. I sat down opposite you, buried my face in my already numb hands and for the zillionth time in my life, cursed the personal purgatory most people called 'gifts'.

The back door of the house opened suddenly. Your little sister stepped out. "Y/N!" she called. "I made something for you!"

I looked up, temporarily forgetting my problem. "Oh, hey, Lorna. What is it?"

"This!" She showed me her arms, which were covered with multicolored, chunky bracelets, each one seemingly woven or tied together. "I made some for you! Peter doesn't like them, so I'm going to give them to you." She stuck out her tongue at him.

"She has an entire freaking shelf full of them. All her friends are doing it. I don't even get why. It's actually pretty stupid," you said, rolling your eyes. I laughed at Lorna's failed attempt to tackle you as you just zipped out of her reach, poking her when she tripped over. She got up and ran back into the house, scowling at you.

A few seconds later, she reemerged with about ten bracelets on the end of a long wooden stick. "Here you go, Y/N! They're all for you." She pointed the stick towards me, giving another glare in your direction.

I shrugged and started taking bracelets off the end of the stick. They were actually really pretty, for something that was just made out of what felt like rubber bands. I started putting them on one by one, marveling at your sister's crafting abilities. I put them all on just to amuse her. They reached halfway up my arms. You snorted with laughter. "Do you even know what you look like?"

I ignored him. "Thanks, Lorna!" I called back "I really love – aargh!" She had just lost control of the stick and had accidentally knocked my legs out from under me. I saw you right in front of me, and my last coherent thought was, run!

Call it instinct, call it forgetfulness, call it plain stupidity, but you reached out and caught me by the arms instead of speeding off like you usually would, then doubling up with laughter as I tried to grab you but never could.

For a short, sweet second, we were holding on to each other, gazing into each other's eyes like we were the only people to exist in the world. Then a small fact registered in my mind.

He caught you, you idiot! He caught you!

"You okay, Blackout?" you finally asked. I nodded, taking a deep breath. We both stared at the incredibly thick rubber-band bracelets on my wrists, then burst out laughing.

You raised your right hand, your palm towards me.

And for the first time in my life, I did a high-five.


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