Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”
She wasn’t even sure she could do this /without/ touching him, and touching him was a short-circuit for her brain. Planting both hands on the floor, she spread the fingers out and stared at them, trying to feel her way into emotion without drowning in it. It was an overlay, that was incredibly clear. If she had to put it into words, she would say it looked like someone had wrapped a cloud of translucent fabric around his normal self. Or like heat, pouring off his body.
Summer looked up at Stiles, green irises wide around pinprick pupils. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand. She imagined what she was doing as wrapping him in coolth, like spraying him with water, driving away the heat.
Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, concentrating on Summer as she seemed to work her… magic? Empathy? Whatever he could call it, it seemed to be working. It was an immediate relief; like he could breathe again. “Oh my god! Thank you so much!”
Summer breathed hard, eyes falling out of focus. “I don’t know what happens if I let go,” she said, through gritted teeth. “I also don’t know if I can hold it for long.” She found a tiny little piece of concentration and forced herself to remember to breathe, slowly and carefully.