“I thought you were supposed to be a genius.” She folded her arms, in turn, and repeated slowly, “I’m an empath. Think about that for a second.”
Okay, so she could see where a man like him would jump to the personal immediately. But he’d created weapons — including the Iron Man suit. So it really shouldn’t be that hard for him to see the offensive and defensive possibilities inherent in the ability he knew about.
It hadn’t been for her. And that was a thought that still hurt.
Sensing a potential attack long before it got within striking distance. Deflecting lone madmen. The chance to place absolute trust in everyone around — and to know when that trust was no longer warranted. No nightmares or insomnia.
“Maybe that’s one of my well kept secrets.”
“Maybe you’ll figure it out one day, hm?”
He didn’t want to admit it, but talking to her was actually making him feel… better. Not to admit that he was even feeling back in the first place.
“Yeah, no, I can see the tactical advantages of being an empath…. But… I mean, would you really want to put yourself around someone like me? Pretty sure I’ve been told my mood is a roller-coaster.”
She snorted a laugh. “That’s a secret you couldn’t keep if you wanted to.” Her arms relaxed into a twined clasp, fingers wound together, and she regarded him seriously again. “I think you are no worse, in that way, than growing up without shields in a small town. If I can survive that … ” She shrugged, carelessly. “And as I said — you’re needed. In the face of that, what matter my small wants? Besides,” a small smile curved her mouth, lighting her eyes, “you’re enjoying this.”