“Hiding the mutant ability is easy. It’s amazing how many people simply assume I’m reading body language, facial expressions, tones of voice. Phrasing. I don’t,” she hesitates, “manipulate. Unless I have to. Absolutely have to. Just knowing is enough, most days.”
She laughs, a little bitterly. “Most days, just knowing is all I can take. It just comes in and in and in, and for a long time there was no out. That’s the part that’s harder to hide.” Summer works her fingers a little, the curious gesture of someone used to working with their hands. “If I don’t find an out, I convulse.” Looking down, she goes on, “Until I discovered this.” And abruptly both hands are covered in flames.
Charles lets his fingers run up to his temple, his eyes locked on the girl. “I see..” He says thoughtfully, startling when her hands suddenly light up in fire. “Dear!” He blinks, letting his hand drop to the armrest. “That indeed is a special talent, including your ability to sense feelings.” He looks both amazed and worried.
“I err— do you need help with that?” He asks, unsure if she has learnt to shut them off on her own. “It looks rather dangerous.”
“That’s the interesting part.” Summer’s not concentrating very hard; she’s done this bit so often it’s almost a party trick now. She lifts her hands, turning them around, and the fire licks up her fingers and coalesces into a ball. “It doesn’t burn me. It’s entirely under my control. I call it, somehow, and feed it the emotions that aren’t mine. I can set things on fire, or not, as I choose. But if I stick my finger in a candleflame lit from a match, I still get burnt.” Without any apparent effort, the fire vanished.