#i’ve realized i can paint on beads with nail polish and it’s opened a whole new world for me

[frayedcircus]

clown inspired kandi with a fish!! :D

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

6! :)

the signal's got speed but there's no real connection

Michael comes barreling through her bedroom door, his sudden presence forcing the brush to run along the side of her finger and taking half the bottle of nail polish with it. Fortunately, she had taken her mother’s advice and started painting her nails at her desk instead of on her bed. She’s glad she listened to one of the many maternal lectures she has been on the receiving end of recently. Not that she’d ever admit to it.

“What the hell, Michael?” Her voice comes out an octave higher than normal as she reaches for a tissue to mop up the mess. Flashbulb Fuchsia is already staining the cherry wood and she is already three steps into plotting a murder.

“Something better be seriously wrong. You can’t just come barging into my room. I am a teenage girl, Michael. I realize you don’t have much experience with my kind, but we need—”

“Sorry, Is,” Michael interrupts with that sheepish smirk only he can seem to pull off. The one that means he is instantly forgiven, at least when she’s on the receiving end. It’s becoming a problem honestly. “Just thought you’d wanna hear about my new superpower. But, if you’re busy….”

“Wait, a new power?! As in you have more than one now?” The words drown in unconcealed jealousy and she won’t even pretend to be sorry. “And stop calling them superpowers. God, you’re such a nerd.”

Michael steps back into the room, as if he’d actually been planning on leaving, while she stands to throw out the mess of tissues and wash her hands in the adjoining bathroom. When she returns he is lying on her bed, tossing a throw pillow up in the air. She shoves him to the side as a silent demand to make room for her.

She lays beside him watching the beaded pillow spin in the air. “Well?”

“I can read minds,” he states with a practiced aloofness. It’s only because she knows him so well that she can hear the underlying giddiness.

“Wait, what?”

Michael turns on his side, propping himself on an elbow and letting the pillow fall and bounce onto the floor. His eyes shine with a happiness she so rarely gets to see from him and his smile is infectious even if she is still confused.

“I mean, so far it’s just this one guy in my music class. At first I thought he was just talking to himself under his breath, you know? But sometimes the thoughts come through loud and clear when he's being completely silent.”

Isobel tries to interrupt but Michael continues, his words so fast with his excitement that they start to run together.

“I’ve been trying to listen in on other people but I haven’t had any luck so far. I probably just need some practice. My telekinesis didn’t manifest completely until I was back in Roswell. Maybe you and Max can help me practice. Maybe you guys have other latent powers too. Is, this is amazing! I mean, we could—”

“Michael!” Finally, she turns, mirroring his position and slaps a hand over his mouth. His eyes go wide before narrowing with annoyance and she quickly removes her hand before he can retaliate. She grasps his forearm instead, giving him a little shake. “Michael, honey, you don’t have a new superpower. You have a soulmate.”

Michael’s eyes grow wider than before and all of the previous emotions coloring his features dim as he closes himself off. “A what?”

“A soulmate!” She shakes him again, this time with a giggle as her own happiness for him takes over. “This is incredible. Max and I weren’t even sure we were able to have them, but you have one! And you found them here in Roswell. Do you have any idea how rare that is?

“I can’t believe you didn’t realize what was going on. I mean, really Michael, hearing someone’s thoughts but only one specific person? You must have guessed. What kind of fifteen year old doesn’t even consider the possibility?” She doesn’t notice the way Michael tenses at her words or how his skin pales and his heartbeat starts to race beneath her hand.

He’s just opened a whole world of possibilities for them. He’s offered proof that even if they’re aliens, they can still find happiness on this planet. They can still be normal.

“So,” she continues, hitting his arm lightly with the flat of her palm as she bounces around with exuberance. “Who is it? You said he was in your music class? I bet I could guess.”

Michael comes back to life with a jolt. He scrambles over her legs in his haste to get off the bed but steps on the fallen pillow and lands in a heap on her floor.

“Michael!” He’s back on his feet and halfway to her door before she can even properly sit up.

She can’t tell what he’s feeling the way she usually can. He doesn’t seem excited, as she would expect, or nervous, like he’s on his way to confront his soulmate. He pauses at the door but avoids eye contact, glancing over his shoulder in her vague direction before staring down at his hands.

“You can’t tell anyone, Isobel. Please.”

She makes a sound that he must accept as affirmation because then he’s gone. She listens to his feet pounding down the stairs and then the front door slamming shut as she sits there wondering what the hell just happened.