John liked the heat. He liked the way the air shimmered. Where he was
now the air was dry, cery little moisture, just the way it should be.
Moisture didn't please him. His real home was cold and wet, miserable
weather throughout the whole air. That's why he decided to take this trip,
away from school and teachers, away from hate and others of his kind. Here
he could just pretend, pretend he was normal. Just like everyone else.
John reached up and ran a hand through his smooth hair and bushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It's not that the sun bothered him, as a matter of fact his blue eyes worked better in the harsh light, he just wanted to be cool, to fit in. Just like everybody else.
And, in that respect, he was not alone.
The park he was currently occupying was filled with teenagers. To his right was a group of girls parading around in short skirts and tops that barely covered their overly tanned skin. He could see no sense in these girls. They spent so much time and effort trying to look mature at such a young age. It just seemed so childish. Not that the opposite sex was the only one at fault. John was the first to admit that guys were just as bad. The evidence was all around him.
Boys trying so hard to impress the attractive wannabes. Didn't the girls understand? They only want one thing. What did Jean say to him once? A Man's first intinct is to spread his seed.
As much as John hated to admit it, she was right. It was not often when John was caught not thinking about sex. All guys did it, he was not ashamed but it frustrated him that he could not find a girl to fit his fantasy.
In his mind the act was all fire and steam, passion and raw animal instinct but there also had to be a connnection. A reason to think that everything was right no matter what. All the girls at school liked was the cold...
He turned his attention back to the crowd, milling around aimlessly. He enjoyed this lack of purpose. There was no thought of destiny or future, simply the now. That blessed moment after then and before soon.
Shit, when did he turn into a poet?
Glancing back at the group of girls with the intention of once again pondering the mysteries of adolence, a strange feeling swept over him. It felt a hot breeze surrounding him and pulling him away from everything he thought he had ever known.
John scanned the crowd, afraid his past had suddenly cought up with him on his lttle 'holday' but he could see nothing. Then his gaze fell upon somthing that intrigued him.
A girl, standing away from the other twittering teenagers, watched the crowd in a similar way the John was. Her dress was strange, taking thw weather into account. Tighted jeans addorned her shapely legs, flaring slightly at the bottom. From what John could see of her top, he could tell it was black and rose high about the throat, showing no skin. But it was the long leather duster duster and thick black boots that fascinated him the most. In fact, he only knew one person who couls dress like that in such heat and that was himself.
For now, she had his back to him, letting John see what most men would call her most prized feature: waist length hair. It fell down her back in loose girls and shone brightly in the sun. At certain angles, the goldern blonde tresses seemed to catch fire as it caught the sun's rays, turning it a powerful ginger-red.
When she finally did turned around, john gasped at the sudden heat wave that came from her direction. Her slightly tanned skin seemed to shimmer, the same way the hot air did. Her dark grey eyes were ablaze with something akin to fiery passion, regardless of the colour.
It was a feeling he had never experienced before. He knew deep in his heart that she was different, just like him.
Suddenly determined, John pushed through the throng of scatly clad girls and made his way towards the solitary figure. She had yet to notice him and the closer he got the more he noticed how sad she looked, how lost. Her face was unguarded as she scanned the crowd, looking but not seacrhing. She stood with a defiant air, maybe expecting an attack, who knows because her fists were held tight at her sides, prepared. In was in that moment that she saw him.
Sound seemed to dim suddenly and a spotlight appeared over the leather clad girl as the rest of the world faded away. Her mouther opened in a small gasp, her pink lips saying nothing but speaking so much. It that one gesture, John knew she felt what he was feeling. It was the heat eminating from her, a signal John could no longer ignore.
He had stopped but feet from her when the earth had decided to disappear, therefore only two steps were needed to reach her. She was still in shock, mouth hanging open, trying desperately to understand what was happening. For a momnet he could do nothing but stare into her fathomless eyes and draw in her spicy scent but it did no take long for him to touch her smooth skin. He raised his hand slowly, hesitantly, expecting her to push him away at any moment. But, to his surprise, she leaned into his touch, her head bent forward slightly as his hand finally carressed her cheek. John would say he saw steam rising from their heated skin but he could not have been certain. Right then nothing mattered except the sudden urge to feel her body underneath his, to warm up her skin even more, to kiss her mouth for the first time.
This time when he made his move there was no hesitation. Their lips meet suddenly and savagely, not trying to savour the moment but to devour it. John pulled her into his embrace and ran his hands through her long hair. More heat was building beneath his fingers but he took no notice. His mind was elsewhere.
Then a tree blew up.
The old oak erupted in a shower of flames right next to them but they did not notice If it was not for the sudden screaming that filled the air, they would not have broken the kiss.
They stared into each others eyes until they were pulled out of their own world by an hysterical voice.
"What the hell? Move! It;s on fire. MOVE!"
It took John a second to realise that the voice was directed to them, or, more importantly, the girl.
A crowd had gathered around the spectical as the girls stared in shock at the burning tree, the fire reflecting in her eyes, making her seem less than humen when it was obvious she was so much more. In sudden panic, her friend reached her hand down and grabbed the girl's hand. The look on her face turned from concern to pain as her skin sizzled in the hot girl's grip. The friend wrenched her hand away with a scream and took two frightened steps away from the girl. The rest of the crown followed suit, looking bewildered and wary, until a circle surrounded both of them.
The girl, on the other hand, was just down right scared. Her eyes from John to the fire, which was beginning to burn more fiercely, threatening to spread to the other large oaks that filled the park.
Sensing her fear and understanding it was founded, John took a step away from her and faced the tree. This the girl took as a sign of fear and, possible hatred.
"I didn't mean..." she started, loud enough to be heard by everyone but John knew the statement was meant for him.
"I know," he replied softly as he raised his hand towards the burning tree. Without warning, the flames died down sharply until there was nothing left but a burnt out skeleton, this happened simply because John willed it so.
John could hear the collective gasp from the crowd and the soft murmerings that he had heard all his life. In a matter of seconds his anonymity had disappeared. He was now something to ge feared.
The murmering slowly became louder until everyone was talking openly. Soon, this noise was punctuated by shouts of waords that he had not heard in a long tim.
"Freak!"
"What is it?"
"It's a freak!"
"Yeah, a mutant..."
John was about to turn around and face the closed minded when the girl started crying openly. This surprised John enough to make him forget his vengience for a moment. The heat still radiated from her and he could see the tears evapourating from her skin as soon as they left her eyes.
For a minute she sobbed loudly, covering her face with her hands. John could pinpint the moment when it became too much to bear.
"I am not a mutant!" she screamed with little conviction at all. John knew the truth and was not moved by this but her next words chilled him to his hot-blooded core.
"I am not a freak," she said, her voice dripping with hate, hatred of herself and what she was put through everyday. her words shocked everyone into silence. she soon realised this was her chance and, before anyone could stop her, she turned and ran.
It did not take much to convince John to follow her.
John reached up and ran a hand through his smooth hair and bushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It's not that the sun bothered him, as a matter of fact his blue eyes worked better in the harsh light, he just wanted to be cool, to fit in. Just like everybody else.
And, in that respect, he was not alone.
The park he was currently occupying was filled with teenagers. To his right was a group of girls parading around in short skirts and tops that barely covered their overly tanned skin. He could see no sense in these girls. They spent so much time and effort trying to look mature at such a young age. It just seemed so childish. Not that the opposite sex was the only one at fault. John was the first to admit that guys were just as bad. The evidence was all around him.
Boys trying so hard to impress the attractive wannabes. Didn't the girls understand? They only want one thing. What did Jean say to him once? A Man's first intinct is to spread his seed.
As much as John hated to admit it, she was right. It was not often when John was caught not thinking about sex. All guys did it, he was not ashamed but it frustrated him that he could not find a girl to fit his fantasy.
In his mind the act was all fire and steam, passion and raw animal instinct but there also had to be a connnection. A reason to think that everything was right no matter what. All the girls at school liked was the cold...
He turned his attention back to the crowd, milling around aimlessly. He enjoyed this lack of purpose. There was no thought of destiny or future, simply the now. That blessed moment after then and before soon.
Shit, when did he turn into a poet?
Glancing back at the group of girls with the intention of once again pondering the mysteries of adolence, a strange feeling swept over him. It felt a hot breeze surrounding him and pulling him away from everything he thought he had ever known.
John scanned the crowd, afraid his past had suddenly cought up with him on his lttle 'holday' but he could see nothing. Then his gaze fell upon somthing that intrigued him.
A girl, standing away from the other twittering teenagers, watched the crowd in a similar way the John was. Her dress was strange, taking thw weather into account. Tighted jeans addorned her shapely legs, flaring slightly at the bottom. From what John could see of her top, he could tell it was black and rose high about the throat, showing no skin. But it was the long leather duster duster and thick black boots that fascinated him the most. In fact, he only knew one person who couls dress like that in such heat and that was himself.
For now, she had his back to him, letting John see what most men would call her most prized feature: waist length hair. It fell down her back in loose girls and shone brightly in the sun. At certain angles, the goldern blonde tresses seemed to catch fire as it caught the sun's rays, turning it a powerful ginger-red.
When she finally did turned around, john gasped at the sudden heat wave that came from her direction. Her slightly tanned skin seemed to shimmer, the same way the hot air did. Her dark grey eyes were ablaze with something akin to fiery passion, regardless of the colour.
It was a feeling he had never experienced before. He knew deep in his heart that she was different, just like him.
Suddenly determined, John pushed through the throng of scatly clad girls and made his way towards the solitary figure. She had yet to notice him and the closer he got the more he noticed how sad she looked, how lost. Her face was unguarded as she scanned the crowd, looking but not seacrhing. She stood with a defiant air, maybe expecting an attack, who knows because her fists were held tight at her sides, prepared. In was in that moment that she saw him.
Sound seemed to dim suddenly and a spotlight appeared over the leather clad girl as the rest of the world faded away. Her mouther opened in a small gasp, her pink lips saying nothing but speaking so much. It that one gesture, John knew she felt what he was feeling. It was the heat eminating from her, a signal John could no longer ignore.
He had stopped but feet from her when the earth had decided to disappear, therefore only two steps were needed to reach her. She was still in shock, mouth hanging open, trying desperately to understand what was happening. For a momnet he could do nothing but stare into her fathomless eyes and draw in her spicy scent but it did no take long for him to touch her smooth skin. He raised his hand slowly, hesitantly, expecting her to push him away at any moment. But, to his surprise, she leaned into his touch, her head bent forward slightly as his hand finally carressed her cheek. John would say he saw steam rising from their heated skin but he could not have been certain. Right then nothing mattered except the sudden urge to feel her body underneath his, to warm up her skin even more, to kiss her mouth for the first time.
This time when he made his move there was no hesitation. Their lips meet suddenly and savagely, not trying to savour the moment but to devour it. John pulled her into his embrace and ran his hands through her long hair. More heat was building beneath his fingers but he took no notice. His mind was elsewhere.
Then a tree blew up.
The old oak erupted in a shower of flames right next to them but they did not notice If it was not for the sudden screaming that filled the air, they would not have broken the kiss.
They stared into each others eyes until they were pulled out of their own world by an hysterical voice.
"What the hell? Move! It;s on fire. MOVE!"
It took John a second to realise that the voice was directed to them, or, more importantly, the girl.
A crowd had gathered around the spectical as the girls stared in shock at the burning tree, the fire reflecting in her eyes, making her seem less than humen when it was obvious she was so much more. In sudden panic, her friend reached her hand down and grabbed the girl's hand. The look on her face turned from concern to pain as her skin sizzled in the hot girl's grip. The friend wrenched her hand away with a scream and took two frightened steps away from the girl. The rest of the crown followed suit, looking bewildered and wary, until a circle surrounded both of them.
The girl, on the other hand, was just down right scared. Her eyes from John to the fire, which was beginning to burn more fiercely, threatening to spread to the other large oaks that filled the park.
Sensing her fear and understanding it was founded, John took a step away from her and faced the tree. This the girl took as a sign of fear and, possible hatred.
"I didn't mean..." she started, loud enough to be heard by everyone but John knew the statement was meant for him.
"I know," he replied softly as he raised his hand towards the burning tree. Without warning, the flames died down sharply until there was nothing left but a burnt out skeleton, this happened simply because John willed it so.
John could hear the collective gasp from the crowd and the soft murmerings that he had heard all his life. In a matter of seconds his anonymity had disappeared. He was now something to ge feared.
The murmering slowly became louder until everyone was talking openly. Soon, this noise was punctuated by shouts of waords that he had not heard in a long tim.
"Freak!"
"What is it?"
"It's a freak!"
"Yeah, a mutant..."
John was about to turn around and face the closed minded when the girl started crying openly. This surprised John enough to make him forget his vengience for a moment. The heat still radiated from her and he could see the tears evapourating from her skin as soon as they left her eyes.
For a minute she sobbed loudly, covering her face with her hands. John could pinpint the moment when it became too much to bear.
"I am not a mutant!" she screamed with little conviction at all. John knew the truth and was not moved by this but her next words chilled him to his hot-blooded core.
"I am not a freak," she said, her voice dripping with hate, hatred of herself and what she was put through everyday. her words shocked everyone into silence. she soon realised this was her chance and, before anyone could stop her, she turned and ran.
It did not take much to convince John to follow her.