Beautiful Wilting Flowers

Frying pan

Liana POV:

Oh. My. Freaking. Gosh. HELP.

The steel frying pan (I should've conjured a baseball bat or something) trembles under my unassured grip, and I can feel my face flush.

The gentleman (not) that Dean is, he pushes me behind him, and says,

"Stay back." In a serious voice that I rarely ever hear on him, but I scoff.

"Yeah right. I can fend for myself, thanks." I eye him as he conjures some flames in his hands, coming back up beside him. Please. As if he fathoms I can't fight. I've spent years in self defense classes; I was trained professionally for something like this.

I guess not emotionally though; my stomach flops over, and the lump in my throat starts to grow larger.

"Ready Lia?" Dean whispers with his fingers up in the number three.

"Yep." 

"Three." Gulp.

"Two." Tighten your grip, and lift the frying pan above your head to swing, Liana. I tell myself.

"One." Dean whips the door open, and lunges for the shadowy person on the other side, me swinging the frying pan harshly. In the blink of an eye, the frying pan isn't even in my hand anymore, and Dean's hand has a cloth over it catching fire.

Were done for. 

The figure laughs, and Dean and I both look up, our expressions shocked when we see...

Airport punk?

"What the freaking.." Dean extinguishes his flame, and removes the burnt, smoking cloth from his hand. "Airport-punk-druggie-manga-nerd-lover-boy!" he exclaims.

We both turn to look at Dean, who has clearly lost his marbles in all of the commotion.

"Excuse me?" Airport Punk asks, his gravelly voice rising an octave higher in confusion.

"It came out; just what all of my friends were referring to you as. You're the shadowy figure I saw out in the hallway, and the one that's been following us ever since the airport." Dean backs up, taking me by the hand with him. My stomach flutters, but that's not the point right now.

"Probably. I'm stealthy." He shrugs, his hand twirling the frying pan that I held moments ago.

"That." I pointed at it in his hand. "How?"

"Huh?" He looks down at it. "How what?"

"How did you take it from me? I was holding it like it was a lifeline." I frown, getting a terrible feeling about him.

"I've been,... let's call it observing you guys. Little creepy, sure, even I admit it, but I had to be sure." He looks down at the frying pan once again, "And I'll explain this sooner or later." He shrugs nonchalantly.

"Wait- what do you want from us? Is the only reason you became friendly with Heyden because you wanted to get closer? And closer to what?" I drone on, and he puts up his arms defensively. 

"You give me answers," He says, unbending. "And I can give you some in return. Capisce?"

"Look dude," Dean laughs roughly around the edges, "Were not here to play games; you tell me what you're here for, or I'm going straight to the police." He threatens (I think my heart just skipped a beat). 

That seems to shut up Airport Punk's cool act, and he stiffens. Hmm, what about the police might make him bend (besides the fact that it's the police)?

"Fine." He smiles, holding out his wrists. "You can tie me to a chair or something; I just want to know a couple of things. Why don't you start, asking me a question, and then we'll take turns answering?"

Dean looks suspicious, but nudges me, so I conjure a rope and hand it to him. Airport Punk looks up with gleaming eyes at my powers. Oh well. Greigh can do the dirty work of erasing his memory later anyways.

Dean ties him up, and drags him into the hotel room where he proceeds to tie him to a chair with the rope as well. Then, we sit down on the bed across from him, and start with our interrogating question.

"Before we start; what's your name?" I add in.

"Vek. Vekner Hirokawa. I have an abbreviated last name, but it's too long to say for now. I could ask the same about you?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Liana Coal." I nod in a sort of greeting.

"Dean Farren." Dean looks suspicious of the last name situation, and I start to get concerned too.

"Nice to meet you two." Vek looks bored now. "Go ahead with your first question."

"Were you really wanting to be friends with Heyden?" I ask at the same time Dean blurts out, "Can you explain all of the thirty two's?"

I shoot Dean a look that I hope says 'leave the talking to me'.

"What do you want from us?" I ask.

"An explanation." He shrugs. "So you two have supernatural abilities too?" 

"Too?" We blurt.

"I've seen your other friends using their powers." He amends.

"Um." Dean shrugs. "Yeah; I guess so. Liana here can conjure objects, talk to animals, and fade invisible." He says fondly. "And I can fly, conjure fire, and use my inhuman strength." He looks like he wants to make an example of punching his hand through the wall, but instead levitates, suspended by the air for a moment until he plops back down on the bed.

"Cool," Vek sighs, "Real cool. I guess I have to show you why I came here, don't I?"

"Please." I sigh, tired of this evasive crap.

"A'right," he says. "Watch closely."

"And if this is some prank and you start stripping, I will go to the police." Dean holds to his threat, and I backhand his chest. Boys, amirite? 

In the next second, he's freed himself from the chair, ran around the room faster than you can blink, and cleaned up all of my mess on the floor. He stands in front of us not even breaking a sweat. I gape.

"What the freaking- What!!!" Dean exclaims, entranced by the show.

"Oh my gosh.." I come to a really scary but also cool but also life changing realization, that might just change our entire lives as we know it. Change our plans of life, our pasts, and our future. A completely terrifying truth.

"I'm one of you." He tells us.