Disclaimer: Do you people get it yet? ITS. NOT. MINE!

Kisses,

{--Inky--}


It took several deep breaths before she could make the hand resting on his doorknob actually grip and turn, but she did it. She was confident he was merely sprawled on his bed, daydreaming. That's what had been Shown to her many minutes before.

She was right. He jolts up when she closed the door firmly behind her. She tosses one of Ms. Jackson's delectable homemade cookies towards him, which he deftly catches, and turns her back to him in order to inspect the framed photos lining the wall. The end frame is empty. She Knows what will eventually go there, if everything goes right. To stop that thought, she shakes her head. She's getting ahead of herself again.

It shocks him how easily this strange girl trusts him enough to turn her unprotected back on him. His temper had gotten a hold of him in the hall earlier; he'd been unnaturally offensive to her.

Finally she faces him and her gray eyes are troubled.

"I'm not crazy," she says decidedly. Almost like she's trying to convince him.

All she gets is a blank look. He doesn't understand. "In the hall. Before. I'm not crazy." A small blush creeps up his cheeks. It almost makes her smile. Almost.

"How did you –"he can't seem to finish his question, but his curiosity leaks into her mind.

"I get these Feelings. Just like how I Know things that will happen, only my Feelings are a lot weaker, "she explains grudgingly. It's a wrong feeling, to give her bound secrets to an outsider.

But he won't be an outsider long, she reminds herself as his currently agonizingly grim future crosses her eyes.

She doesn't hesitate to settle herself on the edge of his bed, and he moves back to give her room. She tries not to be offended he doesn't want to touch the crazy girl.

"So . . . you're psychic?" he asks bluntly. She rolls her eyes, amused.

"In a way. It's the same concept, really. The future is undefined until the decided actions of people around us change the predetermined forces influencing our souls and actions. When those things happen, people like me are the first to Know."

He nods, absorbing this smoother than she'd expected or Saw.

"But how do you know? How does it come to you?" he asks, serious, more so than she's ever seen him before. This question had just come out; it wasn't planned, so she hadn't Seen it coming.

Startled, she gives him the textbook answer. "In most cases, visions occur; little scenes and pictures flitting across the Seer's vision that are needed to be deciphered to understand the underlying message from the supernatural. Dreams are common, especially when the Seer is unconscious. In rare forms, physical signs appear in everyday life; a coded, unusual message on a billboard, a cryptic comment by a seemingly random human being passing on the street."

"Really?"

His lack of acceptance irritates her. "Yes, really. I don't need a crystal ball to tarot cards or tea leaves that you mundanes seem to think are so effective; I just See," she replies, scalding and unfair. He leans back, his face a mixture between affronted, confused, and amazed.

She frowns, a little appalled at her lack of morals, even to a mundane. She prides herself on not following in Luke's footsteps and hating the natural humans, of seeing them as something useless and pitied and weak. Silence consumes the room, tense to them both. She breaks it first.

"Although tea leaves are usually pretty accurate," she adds thoughtfully, almost absently, tilting her head slightly.

A low chuckle escapes from his mouth, which turns into a full-blown laugh, which makes her smile. And then they are both laughing, the reason unknown to both of them.