I’m sitting on the bed, watching her bite her fingernail, while she twirls a strand of her hair around her finger. I’m supposed to be making her feel new things, push her toward the edge, so that maybe her Foreseer power will manifest. But I’m not doing a very good job. I could, but after the biting... incident, I’m afraid what I’ll make us both feel if I push too much emotion out of her.
“So what should we try today?” I ask, fiddling with the leather band watch on my wrist. “Happy, scared, worried?”
“Not worried,” she says quickly with a frown. “I’m not a fan of that one.”
“Well, how about happy,” I suggest, “That one could be fun.”
She shakes her head and pieces of her hair fall around her face. “That one never works.”
It’s true. I found out quickly that she’s a very sad person on the inside; so much that even my gift—curse—of emotional manipulation can’t even get her to genuinely laugh. I wish it could, though. I’d love to be able to make her happy.
She sighs, leaning back against the headboard. “You could always scare the crap out of me or something. That’s an easy one.” The corners of her lips quirk as she pretends to be amused.
I mull over it for a bit longer, twisting my lip ring back and forth. “What we could do….” I trail off, not sure if I want to go there or not. There are certain emotions that seem good, but can be dangerous because it can hinder the rationality of the mind.
She sits up, suddenly curious. “What?”
I shake my head. “Never mind.”
She pouts, her shoulder slumping. “Come on, just say it. Please.”
I let out a sigh, conflicted, and deep down knowing I should keep my mouth shut, but ever since the biting incident, there’s been this overwhelming need to make her happy. “I could put you in a temporary state of euphoria.”
“Isn’t that the same as happiness?” she asks warily, crossing her legs in front of her.
I shrug and sweep my hair out of my eyes. “It all kind of depends on how you look at it. Euphoria is a form of happiness, but it’s also a state of perfection, where you’re going to think everything is perfect and blissful, which doesn’t make it as real as happiness, but I’m guessing it’s easier to achieve.”
Her eyes scroll over my face as she bites on her bottom lip, looking hesitant.
“Never mind,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. It’s good she’s reluctant, because I shouldn’t be doing any of this. I should be keeping my distance from her. “It was just a random thought. We can do something else.”
Shaking her head, she kneels up on the bed in front of me, her reluctance shifting to curiosity. “No, I want to do it.”
I tell my lips to say no, but instead I nod. Then I’m cupping her cheeks, knowing it’s wrong, putting emotions like this inside her, but a part of me wonders if in the state of perfection, she’ll think I’m perfect and maybe I can be blissfully happy with her, because it’s been so long I can’t even remember what happiness feels like anymore.