The Pacifist

Empath

Rachel

Of course it disappoints me, thought Rachel. It was the last thing she wanted to hear. The fact that she'd be saddled with such a burden weighed heavily on her and she pulled harder at the loose thread she had been twisting and untwisting. She had hoped for a cure; a program he could lead her through that would erase everything that plagued her. Rachel knew her so-called superpower was only one of many thing that needed to be corrected.

"What are you thinking?" asked Joseph.

"I wish I could get rid of it," she replied frankly.

"Hm, yes. I could imagine you would. But you can't. You have two choices: You can sit there and pity yourself, or, you can accept it and learn how to live with it."

Rachel drew back her shoulders, feeling attacked. Who does he think he is?

"You're angry. You're not used to people being so direct with you."

"I'm, not! Angry!" she sputtered. Rachel wanted to slap the cool look off his face, but instead slumped further into her seat. "I'm not angry," she repeated. Still, she averted her eyes, embarrassed over her outburst.

"Look at me," he said sternly.

The tone in his voice both angered Rachel, and made something in her gut stir with excitement.

"I said, look at me," he repeated.

Rachel's eyes dragged up from the floor, to his chest, his chin, and then finally to his eyes. Her breath hitched and her face grew uncomfortably warm. She couldn't understand the look on his face then. Satisfied? But why? she wondered.