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"Dorian, this spacing out when I'm talking thing." Layla sighed heavily, at lunch that same day. Dorian found he couldn't look at any of them for a while. He did feel bad for not responding, but the pain on his stomach persists.

"You're just...you don't seem like your usual self." Will replied. "We're concerned is all."

Magenta knew. Or she seemed to know what went on in his head, like his mother and sister. Maybe there was more to her than just a shape-shifting Guinea pig.

"Uh. You know, psychics are pretty common. Are you-?"

"No. I just know how to read people."

Ethan tracked her statement. "It's true AND really creepy. Your mom's a medium to, isn't she?"

"And little sister so double the package."

"Oh I almost forgot about Ava, how've her days been? Middle school right?"

"She's been well, a bit of a troublemaker though with the fact she can turn invisible at any moment she chooses. Has a pretty good control of her abilities." Sometimes he felt embarrassed admitting that. That his little sister, by a few years had a grasp of what she had. And he still struggled.

His eyes shift towards his friends, as they talked amongst each other. In the back of his mind he pondered if somehow, maybe he could share what happened between him and Warren.

Mr. Boyd was a timid man with fair blond hair and pale blue eyes, but Dorian and the others took to him. Sidekick classes weren't all that bad ultimately, they learned of utility belts-only he and a few others, could control them-, poses were later on. His was that, of floating inches from the ground, with his head tilted up and arms across his chest.

When it came to Medulla's science class, that pain returned once more. "Yes, Mr. Talbot?" he asked before he even raised his hand.

"May I be excused?"

"Yes, of course. I'm only after all teaching you the basics of Plaserillium Kryptonalitite. Not that it will be any use for you."

"Thanks..." he muttered, Medulla's sarcastic tone went unnoticed. Cold water was splashed onto his face, as he took hold of the sink's sides.

He closed his eyes, sinking himself to the floor. Slowly he lifts the hem of his shirt, bruises typically take two days to show up. But his formed instant against his skin. The pain was worth if it meant keeping Will safe from the pyro maniac.

Sure, enough as he cracked one eye open, he found Warren Peace staring him down. Dorian was taken by the ankle. He did not dare move an inch as Warren crouched to his level. He braced for pain that never comes.

Fingers calloused beneath gloved hands dance up his skin and around the bruised area. Dorian did flinch at this. And Warren sensed it. "You hate touch." He muttered. "Interesting..."

He knows my weakness.

He knows my weakness.

"Don't worry...I won't say a word. Our little secret right?" he smirked. Relishing of the fact, he knew how to 'torture' the one whom helped imprison his father. Little flames formed on his fingertips, he just wanted to scare him not hurt him. While Dorian's face was unfazed, he was feeling it on the inside.

"A little extreme just to scare me, Peace. I thought daddy taught you better."

Warren sneered when he mentioned his father. His hands pressed to his bruised side. The temperature of his hand increased. White hot pain shot up, in which Dorian resists all he can not to cry out. "Nobody. Mentions. My father, freshmen. If you mock me again, I won't hesitate to roast you alive." His face is close to Dorian's, so that he could feel his warm breath. "Got it?"

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