"I want us to have the discussion somewhere safe. Away from prying eyes. Maybe your place?" Amy's voice was firm, undoubtedly serious.
Syril gave a long, wild laughter, his head flung back dramatically. Surely, passers-by noticed and gave weird stares.
'Another crazed citizen,' they had thought.
Amy stood puzzled, her brows twitching under her hoodie.
Finally after his crazy cacophonous laughter, he gave a sharp answer. "Nice talking to ya. Gotta go now," he said, his voice intimidatingly low as he turned around and continued his walk.
Amy ran and reached for his hands, only for Syril to spun around with the most terrifying gaze. His eyes flared, his brows furrowed, and his face squeezed to reveal an exasperated face lit by the neon glow of the city.
Amy flinched, almost tripping on her own legs. Regardless, she forced herself to talk.
A teardrop fell on his hand, hot and carrying the weight of unspoken words.
"Please, Syril. Please... help me just this once. I promise... I mean no harm. No plots. I just... need to escape from this terror," Amy's words came out stuttered, her voice trembling and shaky as if forced out.
She rose her head slightly, the city's lively light momentarily beaming her face. Her cheeks appeared red, her hands now shakily grasping Syril's.
Syril beheld, his thoughts torn between uncertainty and repulsion.
'Stop being a pussy and listen to her! Jeez!' Raja's obnoxious voice slid in, clearly frustrated.
'You don't understand. She's not only connected to my foes, she has a strong ability,' Syril replied telepathically, his frustration still written boldly on his face.
'She seems to be telling the truth, dummy.' Raja pressed.
Syril looked at her hidden face and sighed heavily, finally making a decision that seemed all shades of wrong to him.
His jaw clenched before he gave a simple order; "follow me."
The girl obeyed, her hands slid into the hoodie pockets as she followed his footsteps.
To other eyes, it would have appeared absurd, out of the world... a nobody ordering the heiress of the Vancouvers? A nobody leading the silent beauty goddess of Flemdale? Crazy!
They soon got to his apartment, Amy silently and obediently following the young lad. Her eyes kept darting around, as if somebody would just materialize and take her away.
The door flung open, revealing a modest parlor with three cushioned sofas and a broken chandelier that dimly lit the surrounding. Kissing the floor was a red, aesthetic rug, carrying the weight of an oval shaped rustic coffee table.
Syril ushered her in, entered, and the door clicked with a twist of the key.
"Might not be the luxury you're well familiar with, but it's mine. My abode," Syril said as he made his way to a sofa.
"Hmph! It's nice. You don't need to be... cocky," Amy replied behind him, her firm voice hinting playfulness.
Syril's legs stiffened, his jaws clenching as he spun around and shot a sharp gaze at her.
This time, she didn't flinch. She casually sat on the sofa like she owned the place.
'Am I dreaming? What is this? Isn't this the same girl sobbing earlier?' Syril pondered, his head aching from the thought.
He dismissed it and proceeded with the agenda.
"I'm all ears," he simply said.
Amy instantly adjusted her dress, removing unseen specks of dirt and maintaining a straight face. Her fingers nervously curled loosed strands of thread on her clothing.
She then gently removed the hoodie cap, revealing her symmetrical face and jade eyes. At that moment, Syril got the chance to take a closer look of the famous beauty.
Amidst the skepticism turmoil, he couldn't deny how honored he felt to have her in his house.
She spoke; "I've thought about this well... only you came to mind. You're the only one who can help."
Syril flinched. Almost imperceptible, but didn't escape the focused eyes of Amy.
Regardless, she continued.
"I really need your help, Syril. Please, you have to do this for me," she added, her posture already faltered, hinting Syril of the tremor beneath her composure.
"If you keep repeating what you've said, I'm afraid you won't need that help," Syril's voice came harsher than intended, completely unfazed by the girl's reactions.
Amy was already sobbing, her fingers still nervously curling loose strands.
She muttered something until it gradually became audible to Syril.
"I can't... I just can't. Not with him." Syril heard Amy's broken voice muttering.
She fell to her knees and crawled to his front.
"I can't be engaged to that bastard! Not... not after what I found out. Please... Syril, I'm begging. We have to make sure he doesn't propose to me. We can't let that happen!" Amy cried out, her jade eyes fluttering as she struggled to speak.
Syril was confused, but he took a minute to fathom what was happening before him.
'A Vancouver? Kneeling before me? Seems mother luck is now paying attention to this poor boy,' Syril thought.
He soon found his words, voicing his concern. "Amy, I'm confused. What... who is proposing to who, and what is my role to play in that?" He asked, his eyebrow slightly raised as confusion still owned him.
"Oliver. Oliver Houston is going to propose to me at tomorrow's prom night," the name rushed out like a wave of force that struck not only her. Syril immediately felt his skin crawl, like the name she just uttered was a disease.
She left no room for Syril's response as she continued. "We can't let that happen, Syril. I can't be engaged to that bastard. He'll... ruin everything! He'll... no, I just can't!" Her words came out rushed and stuttered, like she was gradually losing it.
"Calm down. I'm still not getting ya," Syril pretended to be unfazed. "Why don't you wanna get engaged to him? How can I stop the proposal?"
"He has hidden agenda. His... family has something planned. The proposal mustn't happen... to escape tomorrow's proposal, I have a plan..."
"A plan?" Syril's eyebrow remained arched.
"Be my prom date." She instantly declared, completely resolved.
A smile stretched Syril's face. It came small and grew wider until he erupted into a cacophonous laughter.
Amy had expected this... part of the reasons she had insisted their discussion was held privately.
Syril laughed maniacally until his face became red.
"Me? You and I? Is... is this some kind of joke? If it is, then... you did a great job." Syril responded amidst his wild laughter, clenching the sofa's armrest as his stomach began to ache from the laughter.
"I know, I know. It sounds far-fetched..." Amy's response was cut short.
"Exactly! Far-fetched is the word," Syril interjected, his gaze now predatorily cold. "The only reason I'm listening to your shenanigans is because of the show you're putting on."
Amy moved closer, basically kneeling in the middle of his legs. Her hands briefly grasped his knees before she held onto his hands.
"Please, Syril. If Oliver gets his way, everything will be over. My life, my family's legacy... everything, completely gone! I can't afford that. I know the effort my parents put in building everything. I-I don't want to lose them." Amy cried out again, this time, softly. Streams flowed down her cheeks as her gaze locked onto his.
The last words stung him harder than he could imagine. Something about her told him she wasn't staging it. The words, tears, everything... they felt natural.
Her composure had completely cracked. Gone was the meticulous and sly girl, replaced by an anxious lady who feared the loss of everything she possessed.
"Please, I'll do anything to repay. Anything, Syril! We just have to make sure Oliver doesn't get his way." Her voice came in cracked, her hands fiercely squeezing Syril's.
Syril looked intently into her eyes, looking for a crack, a subtle reaction that would tell if something was fishy.
He found none.
You can't blame Syril. That was how he had survived in the world of superhumans. In a world where power meant everything, where even a measly ability can bring a family with no ability down to their knees, Syril had to survive. He created his own 'power' to pull him out of precarious situations.
His observation and intuition had never left him. It was the only leverage he had. Where others are already creating ice shards, earth spikes, fire balls and all, he had used his own intuition to escape before things got ugly.
Well, not in Ashley and his cohorts' case. Theirs was special, but hey, he got something pretty out of it, right?
...
Syril almost hated his mind for lingering on her last words.
'Please, I'll do anything to repay.' The words echoed in his head.
Something soon came to his mind, a certain mission he had almost forgotten.
The system holo screen materialized before him after confirming from Raja that the dejected girl wouldn't see it.
[Mission: Disvirgin yourself.]
[Reward: New Ability, New Special Skill, New Ability Skill.]
[Countdown: 37 hours, 11 minutes, 48 seconds.]
"Anything, huh?"
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Our MC's character will come to full play soon. We can only anticipate.
What do you think will happen? What do you think the scale of the consequence of Oliver's proposal is? Will Syril succeed with his mission?
I'll leave that thought to you, but I still wanna hear from you in the comments section.
DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!