lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“I can.” It seemed important to stress that she didn’t, all the time. “Mostly I don’t. It’s … like being in a crowded room. I can hear all the conversations going on around me, and I can choose to pay attention to one speaker, or to tune it all out, or put in earplugs — but I can’t choose not to hear anything at all. And most people, if I touch them, I’m going to hear it whether I want to or not.” She wasn’t looking at him, fiercely focused on finding the right words. “You’re taking this really well.”

“That makes sense … and it’s kind of cool, actually. I knew you were too special to just be ordinary, Summer,” he murmured slowly and tilted his head to the side, before lifting up his shoulders in a helpless little shrug. “After finding out werewolves are real and being turned myself, nothing really surprises me anymore. Why shouldn’t empaths be real? And I guess it all makes sense — supernatural beings being attracted to other supernatural beings and all that.”

That made her laugh. “You heard what J-jesse said, though,” she pointed out, stumbling on his name. “You aren’t afraid of that?”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

She laughed, a little painfully. “You are unbelievable, Isaac Lahey. Unbelievable.” One thumb rubbed against her wrist, over and over, sliding over the faded, pale scars that could only be seen in just the right light. Marks left from the days right after her ability had awoken, shocked into terrible life by the events of 9/11. “Now you understand why I trust you so easily.”

“That’s not always a bad thing,” he retorted with a faint little smile and he tilted his head to the side, gazing at her with both intrigue and awe, eager to learn about this new side of her. “Because you can see into my head and read my moods and stuff? Do you feel it when I’m happy and sad and everything?”

“I can.” It seemed important to stress that she didn’t, all the time. “Mostly I don’t. It’s … like being in a crowded room. I can hear all the conversations going on around me, and I can choose to pay attention to one speaker, or to tune it all out, or put in earplugs — but I can’t choose not to hear anything at all. And most people, if I touch them, I’m going to hear it whether I want to or not.” She wasn’t looking at him, fiercely focused on finding the right words. “You’re taking this really well.”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“Which bit?” she inquired. “The part where I’m capable of it, or the part where I do, have done it? I’m capable of it. It’s part of what being an empath is, and I’m pretty powerful. I can completely control someone’s emotions.” She sighed, and looked down at her hands. “I don’t. I only ever — in self-defense.”

“I’m capable of ripping a person to shreds with just my claws, but I haven’t done it. I wouldn’t unless you were in danger,” Isaac stated softly, leaning down to rest his chin in his hands, eyes fixated on hers. “I trust you, okay?”

She laughed, a little painfully. “You are unbelievable, Isaac Lahey. Unbelievable.” One thumb rubbed against her wrist, over and over, sliding over the faded, pale scars that could only be seen in just the right light. Marks left from the days right after her ability had awoken, shocked into terrible life by the events of 9/11. “Now you understand why I trust you so easily.”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“You aren’t hurting me.” She batted him away from her forehead. “Hey, don’t do that. I’m not a child.” Drawing her hand from his, she pushed herself upright and folded her legs tailor-fashion. “He wasn’t entirely … wrong,” she said quietly. “I can do what he said.”

Isaac flinched at the reprimand and scooted backwards, pulling his hands away to curl up on his lap, eyeing her warily. “You mean what he said about you making me want you and everything? I don’t believe that.”

“Which bit?” she inquired. “The part where I’m capable of it, or the part where I do, have done it? I’m capable of it. It’s part of what being an empath is, and I’m pretty powerful. I can completely control someone’s emotions.” She sighed, and looked down at her hands. “I don’t. I only ever — in self-defense.”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“Just … give me a minute … ” she murmured. A deep breath, and another, and the image of walls, solid and unbreakable but crystal clear, held firmly in her mind. She opened her eyes, slowly, and groped for Isaac’s hand. “Afraid. You’re afraid,” she said clearly, and, “if you want to go, I won’t stop you. I understand.”

He reached out and curled his fingers around hers, smoothing his thumb across the back of her hand. “Not of you, but of hurting you,” he protested quickly and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere, Summer. I promise.”

“You aren’t hurting me.” She batted him away from her forehead. “Hey, don’t do that. I’m not a child.” Drawing her hand from his, she pushed herself upright and folded her legs tailor-fashion. “He wasn’t entirely … wrong,” she said quietly. “I can do what he said.”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

She nodded, still not opening her eyes. “The human body isn’t designed to handle that much emotional input. One person’s worth, two people’s worth, okay. More than that? It has to go somewhere.” She shivered, a full-body ripple. “Like putting your finger in an electric socket.”

He shivered in unison, not liking the imagery her words conjured up, and he reached out only to pull back at the very last minute. “If I touch you, will that make things worse? You just had another seizure and I’m scared I might set you off again.”

“Just … give me a minute … ” she murmured. A deep breath, and another, and the image of walls, solid and unbreakable but crystal clear, held firmly in her mind. She opened her eyes, slowly, and groped for Isaac’s hand. “Afraid. You’re afraid,” she said clearly, and, “if you want to go, I won’t stop you. I understand.”

lycanthropelahey:

iamthefirechild:

“Empath,” she repeated softly. “I read emotions. Other people’s emotions.”

“…Can you read mine?” he murmured finally, brows furrowing together as he gazed at her curiously, deciding to believe her rather than doubt her. “But why would that cause you to have seizures? I don’t understand…”

She nodded, still not opening her eyes. “The human body isn’t designed to handle that much emotional input. One person’s worth, two people’s worth, okay. More than that? It has to go somewhere.” She shivered, a full-body ripple. “Like putting your finger in an electric socket.”