Title
Disclaimer don't own it
Summery
AN thank you for reviewing tigeruawish. And for the person who foolishly named herself phoebe philo (pffft!) if my story isnt that good then how come you read on to chapter eight? and for your information my beta is currently on holiday and cant get to an internet resorce, so nananananaNA! *sticks tounge out*.
Now, on with the story for those of you who actualy WANT to read it. And if my bad mood has affeced the writing then not my fault. Blame the philo pastry. Pfft. What a 'great' name!
(And if i offended anyone other then the pastry herself i am deeply sorry, im in a bad mood, i dont like reviewers who aren't on with an account who blast at my stories.)
One thing Elle liked about the old company was target practice. The boards of wood and metal ranged in size and shape. Some being trees and some being people shaped. She couldn't say she was all that thrilled with the new company's targets.
Most were glass and when they exploded they sometimes sent shards towards her. Sometimes she was sluggish, bored or not prepared and the shards cut into her.
When Gabriel asked about said cuts, Elle lied. Said they were caused by other things. A cooking accident, say. And yes, the glances of confusion from Gabriel showed that he noticed you didn't get cooking scratches on your back.
Elle had laughed it off but ever since then she was aware of Gabriel watching her. Sometimes with just a little confusion, hinting in his eyes and the shadow of his expression. Sometimes with more, showing up in his movements.
Elle didn't mention it because she didn't want to act like she had something to hide.
Eventually though he realised where the cuts were coming from and confronted her.
"Elle," his voice was strange, like he was trying to be calm but failing miserably, "I'm getting tired of waiting for you to tell me what the hell is going on!"
"So, anyway," Elle awkwardly muttered, "Did you want to go see that new film? It looks good!" Amature, Elle mused, how did i become so amature?
"Elle!" Elle flinched as Gabriel resorted to loud tones, "Concentrate!" and with that he zapped her with a burst of electricity. Elle's mouth dropped open in a soundless almost-squeal.
How dare he! She seethed, using my own power and my style! Bastard!
The bastard in question had realised he'd done the wrong thing, wincing as he recognised the look on Elle's face. Rage. And with rage comes-
Blue filled the room, shaking the furniture and smashing tables. Electricity running over skin and clothes, ripping and shocking, scratching its path wherever Elle wanted it to.
Yep, Gabriel sighed in his head, mostly because the pain from the shocks were occupying his mouth with screams, with anger comes electricity.
Honestly, Elle thought, wondering why she hated herself for hurting himself but pursing her lips in determination, he should be used to it by now.
He didn't retaliate because he knew it'd make things worse and Elle wouldn't heal. Elle wouldn't be okay if he shocked her with the amount of power she shocked him with.
This must be love, Gabriel grumbled in his mind, I wouldn't put up with the shocks if it weren't.
Elle wanted to cry but knew it would only make things worse, she wanted to laugh because the same thoughts were going through her head. Love, must be. Nothing else would make him stand and take it all.
Finally she stopped, too tired to care that he had her power anymore. Mini fires were raging around the floor and walls. Not big, not many but enough to make Elle's face crumple in dismay as she realised how much damage she would have done to Gabriel is he hadn't taken Claire's power.
And then there was no time to think or even breathe because Gabriel was kissing her, showing her his style of electricity that had nothing to do with unnatural powers, though Elle figured he must have stolen a kissing power from someone because there was no way he was that good naturally.
When they pulled apart, both were grinning.
"Ready to tell me yet?" Gabriel smirked,
"Grr…" Elle smiled, all happy bunnies and unicorns.