Chapter Text
There's a new face at tonight's group session. He's sopping wet, droplets of water rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto the linoleum floor. Donning a rash guard and board shorts, he adverts his gaze from the rest of the group and the facilitator, Felicia. Ever the chirper person, Felicia isn't phased by the new guy's behavior, as she starts the session with smiles and enthusiasm.
“Good evening, my friends! So glad to see everyone at tonight's session,” the therapist's smile exposes a set of fang-like mandibles, possessing the physiology of a species from the neighboring galaxy, which can only be described as fantasy orcs, “We have a new friend with us. Care to start introductions? Just need to give your name.”
The new guy looks up at Felicia like a deer caught in the headlights, terrified from such a simple request. All nine sets of eyes are on him, as he stammers through his introduction, “H- Hi, my name- I’m Herman, b- but my grandma calls me Herm or- just call Herm or Herman.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Herman,” replies Felicia, “My name is Felicia and I’m the facilitator for Beings with Power Struggles. I’m glad to have you with us tonight, I hope you can find some solace in hearing your fellow peers’ experiences,” she then claps her hands together and announces, “Let’s go around in a circle and talk about our powers.”
One by one, each group member shares their names and their powers, which range from inconvenient like Kim’s poorly controlled teleportation to destructive like Reid’s explosive touch. Finally, it’s your turn and you share to the group your name and powers, “I struggle with my foresight.”
“And that’s everyone!” the therapist concludes the introduction portion, “Now, let’s dive into what happened in our lives this week. Anyone want to go first?”
Hannah—a bee hybrid—raises her hands and informs the group, “I accidentally puked up honey on my supervisor. It was… not a pretty sight.”
“And how did your supervisor react?” asks Felicia, to which Hannah replies, “She was surprisingly understanding, but I could tell that she was grossed out about it…”
Felicia follows up Hannah’s response with some insightful remarks while you fidget with your padded gloves. While you could sometimes see the future without an external trigger, your touch often triggers your foresight, especially if you touch people.
“What about you, Herman?” you tune back into the session when Felicia asks the damp ginger about his week’s experiences. Herman hangs his head low and stares at the ground while he admits to the group, “I- I got yelled at- My coworker cursed- cussed me out for slipping on one of my puddles.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” replies Felicia with a frown, “Did you talk to your supervisor about this instance?”
“N- No.”
“How come?”
“I don’t- I don’t wanna be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden,” you suddenly insert yourself into the conversation. Herman looks up at you with wide, surprised eyes. You clear your throat and continue, “Accidents happen. Did you put up a wet floor sign for it?”
“Y- Yeah. I’m the custodian- the janitor at my- my work,” answers the ginger.
“Then your coworker’s at fault,” you retort, “You did everything right. Don’t blame yourself for people being dicks.”
Something in Herman’s face shifts away from uncertainty, as he nervously thanks you, “You’re right. Th- Thanks.”
You give him a nod while Felicia flashes you a thumbs up before she asks you, “How about you? What happened this week for you?”
“Broke a vase,” you confess.
“How come?”
“I foresaw that my roommate would knock it over and get glass shards in her foot.”
“And did breaking the vase prevent that outcome?”
You bite your bottom lip, “No, no, it didn’t.”
Felicia’s lips form a tight frown, as she nods solemnly at you, “And we’ve taught about this, right? You can’t control the actions of others. All you can do is warn them of what’s to happen. Your power is insightful, but it can’t alter the results of a situation.”
You let out a prolonged sigh and cross your arms, going silent. Felicia takes that as a sign to move onto the next section of the meeting. However, you’ve already disengaged, instead you ponder over the premonition you had the night before the group meeting.
A pair of steely blue eyes.
A kiss in the rain.
A gunshot ringing through the air.
The faces are blurred, but you can feel the other person’s lips against yours, you can hear the gun being fired. Who, what, when, how of it all has no answer.
You’re so absorbed in your thoughts that you fail to realize that the session ended and Herman’s standing in front of you, his mouth open to speak. With a small smile, you peer up at him and wait for him to speak.
“Th- Thank you,” he tells you, “For- For what you said earlier.”
“No problem. I’ve dealt with the same, so I get how you feel,” you hum in reply.
The ginger nods and offers you a quivering smile, as he pulls his goggles—maybe they’re an alternative to prescription glasses or maybe they just help keep the water out of his eyes—and rests them on his forehead. You look up and make contact with his eyes, your chest tightening and your pulse quickening.
Steely blue eyes.