A Late Night Snack - Kitchen 3/17 3 AM
The dark kitchen was welcoming with the subtle smell of food drifting through it, new scents wafting out as a quiet hand opened the cupboard doors. A clock on the wall moved its steady hands past three, and moonlight kissed the windowpane, secure in its reign of the sky. Sunlight wouldn't overthrow it for a few hours yet..
The nocturnal young woman peered in for a moment longer, before closing her fingers on a bag of tortilla chips and moving her catch to the counter. Her slender tail slid up to shut the cupboard behind her, falling back to into a sway as she leaned over her feast. Hands built with only two thick fingers reached into the bag and lifted triangles of salty goodness to her lips one at a time, two-toed feet of equal oddity bare against the cool tile. She was still running on her own sense of time, in living outside of the institute designations between activities during the day and during the night had become blurred and unimportant. The young feral had always been more inclined to be up and about at night when things were quieter and oh so much more beautiful.
An idle hand reached up to let her dark hair down from its ponytail, blinking her big green eyes in the darkness. Seemingly aphotic spaces were no hindrance for her, with pupils that had transformed to mimic a cat’s. They let in all the light she could ever need, even in the dark. She would choose the graceful moonlight to harsh, artificial lighting any day, or more specifically, any night.
There was moonlight filtering through his window. Gliding over his bed with every passing of cloud, the silvery light seemed to shift and wan in the darkness of his room. Lying on his bed, his head resting on a soft pillow, the hazel eyed student watched the touch of moonlight on his slender form. The day had been an eventful one, and Armaan realised he wasn’t the least bit sleepy. Wide awake and edgy, he realised that this would be his first night in his new room. It still smelled foreign, and Armaan knew it would take days to get accustomed to the shift. It didn’t matter though. He was now part of a team, and his mood was significantly better than it had been in days. This wasn’t to say that he was generally gloomy, but by choosing him to join Generation-X, Bobby had certainly instilled some confidence into the shy Afghan.
And yet Armaan wondered if it had all been some mistake. Perhaps Bobby meant to choose someone else, and the letter of invitation had mistakenly found its way into Armaan’s tanned hands. Sighing, the dark haired mutant realised he needed to stop doubting himself. Painfully shy, and awkward around others, Armaan saw himself as somehow inferior to everyone. It wasn’t a lack of confidence in himself, but stemmed from a strange desire to be withdrawn around others. Most would say he inherited it from his mother, and yet Armaan knew Sooraya had been quick tempered and assertive.
He wasn’t like her at all, and rarely could he bring himself to speak to someone.
And yet people seemed to be warming to him- awkwardness and all. Kichi, with her bubbly personality, saw past his shyness, and had embraced him as a friend, whereas he was sure Kylora wanted him to break past his barriers and be friends with her. If only it was that easy, he mused. Kylora was perhaps the most perfect person he had ever met. Enchantingly beautiful, and in possession of a kind soul, she seemed to radiate a serene, almost ideal aura. In fact, he was afraid of not being good enough to even know her. Girls like her deserve something a lot cooler than an awkward Afghan with nothing to offer, he reflected. Sighing, he lifted his head from the pillow and came to sit cross-legged on his bed.
Even his team, all of whom appeared to be in a complicated relationship, seemed to be accepting of him. Arisa specially. Grinning suddenly, he remembered her strange greeting, and the way she actually made him feel welcome. Rising from his bed, he slipped out of his room barefoot and made his way quietly across the hallway. The mansion seemed to be asleep, and Armaan was secretly glad for it. He hadn’t eaten anything for dinner, and there was a powerful rumbling in his stomach. Sneaking down the stairs, he made his way towards the kitchen and flicked on the main light.
Instantly he realised he wasn’t alone.
“Whoa,” he breathed, catching sight of movement. Upon realising who it was, a sheepish grin crossed his lips. “Oh, its just you. Hi.”
Re: A Late Night Snack - Kitchen 3/17 3 AM
The soft patter of footsteps met her ears, gentle and hushed as the Afghan boy pushed through the doorway across the room. Lifting her green eyes she recognized him before his hand had found the light switch, tail giving a silent flick of interest at the unexpected company.
Then the lights flickered to life, bright and unbearable. Burying her grimacing face in her arms she flinched silently, hiding her overly sensitive eyes from the glare.
“Whoa,” She heard his surprised voice as if it were far away, her shoulders tensing visibly as her pupils made the uncomfortable change from vertical slits to less perceptive human circles. After a moment his voice reached her again in a deep tone, “Oh, it’s just you. Hi.”
Blinking repeatedly, she lowered her arms. As the fading ache of transformation left her eyes she answered the young man’s sheepish expression with a soft smile. “..hi,” Uttering the greeting quietly, she felt herself still under the hush night brings. A moment of silence fell over them briefly, but she ushered it away with a gesture of her hand, waving him over, “Armaan..join me?”
For the second time today they were meeting, and for the second time she felt a sense of goodness in his demeanor which she couldn’t help but take a liking to. Perhaps the solitary feral wouldn’t mind company after all. Edited by: In Shadows Keep at: 11/22/06 6:05 am
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