I was once again somewhere I hated to be. Cooped up in a high-end prison cell, with technology to stifle my powers. But since the first mutated freak every prison has a system like this. A quick pickpocket for a guard’s key card and a couple roundhouse kicks I could escape without breaking a sweat. But this was a good place to rest for a moment. The latest fight between the daring flamethrower and myself ended…rough.
I sat up from my bed, feeling every joint and muscle scream I should sit back down. I hobbled over to my mirror, leaning hard on the sink underneath it to hold myself up, checking to see if the damage faded.
It did not.
A black eye was still present, along with a bruised and slightly swollen nose. Scratches ran across my cheekbone, scabbed over and red. I brushed some fingers over a busted lip, wincing at impact. I was in no shape to try and bust out, powers or not. I needed to rest, for a week or so.
“Does it hurt?” I turned quickly, regretting the fast movement immediately as my neck was pulsating in anguish. Liam stood there on the other side of the plexi glass. I chuckled through the pain, standing up fully and walking away from the sink. I couldn’t let him see me so weak. If he could hold himself up, then so could I.
“Oh don’t fuss over me. I’m just worried if it’ll leave a scar. This is the money maker you know.” I made a gesture to my face. Liam’s wasn’t any better, similar cuts and purple bruises littered that masterpiece. Ignoring the sudden regret in my chest at hurting him, I pointed to them.
“And you should pray that you get healed up good as well. Won’t be on that many tween magazines with a crooked nose,” I said, sitting down again when I couldn’t continue to stand.
“I never thought I would wish for a permanent facial disfigurement until now…” I laughed as much as my ribs would let me. He cracked a smile. A real one. Not one for photos or news reports, a genuine smile. I ignored the skip in my heartbeat, saving that image in my head. When I close my eyes I wanted it plastered across my dreams.
“Why are you here anyway? You don’t seem to be the one to gloat about beating his arch nemesis.” I crossed my legs, leaning back with my arms propping me up.
“Well I couldn’t gloat even if I wanted to, considering how you almost killed me…”
“Oh I almost killed you? I’m sorry I guess I just imagined in my dastardly haze where you used the force of your fire to hurtle a billboard at me!”
“That was self-defense! You were about to rain down the might of Mt. Everest on top of my head!”
“Only after you sent what I can only describe as the rushing wave of an erupting volcano towards my ass!” I could see him seizing up, about to yell at me more. There was a flicker of something in his eyes. Sparks danced in the corners. Literal sparks. I sat up more. No powers were supposed to be working in here. Not in a single corner, especially not anywhere near me. He stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing his temples.
“Damn,” I mumbled. Liam looked up at me again, clearly forgetting I was there for a moment.
“You tell no one about that.” He pointed a finger at me.
“As if anyone would believe me. Now, answer my question. Why are you here?” I asked again. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair.
“I’ve never…met someone like me. Sure I’ve fought the occasional mad scientist or evil billionaires but, not another person with powers. I want…” He sighed again. I widened my eyes, realizing what he’s trying to say. At least what I hoped he was saying.
“Is Scorch Mark lonely?” I let out a quick snicker, but my pain seemed to fade from those words. Liam liked my company. He liked my company. He scowled at me.
“After talking with you in my house I realized I never could really relate with anyone else. I’m just asking for some back and forth. You do this, I might be able to reduce your sentence. Deal?” He asked. I couldn’t believe it. Here I thought I would have to convince him, kidnap him, hell even brainwash him if I got desperate (not for that long, only a couple days) just for him to look my way as something more than a threat. Yet here he was wanting to gossip and hang out with me. I blinked and let out a wide, excited smile meant to be a smirk.