Tony shrugged. “Hell, it must be more power than I’ve got,” he commented, looking down. “And as for the barging in and all that, we’ve all got our quirks… I tend to blow things up. I think your behavior is a bit more socially acceptable, don’t you?”
“Oh, I do that too. Though I try to limit it to things that need blowing up.” Summer shook her head hard, red hair flying about. “Sorry. I came in here to help you feel better, not drop all my crap on you.”
“No, it’s quite all right if you want to talk,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I may not be the best listener, and my advice is likely going to be questionable, but hey… I’m here.”
“I’ve talked until I’m dizzy, and mostly what I hear is ‘why is it such a problem for you to be normal? why can’t you just do what they want?’ But it’s … you know, eventually, you do what’s wanted of you enough times and that’s all you are, you lose what you have for yourself. I don’t want to lose myself. /This/ is the person I choose to be, even though it cuts me off from everybody.” She sighed, hands coming up to scrub against her eyes.
“Just for once it would be nice to find somebody who loves me the way I am, not the way they want be to be.” Summer gave a stiff, one-shouldered shrug, like shaking off an unseen grip, and looked back at Tony. “I’m really sorry. I’m standing here talking like my problems are anything like compared to yours, and filling your ears with my nonsense, when I should just be letting you work and getting out from underfoot.”