The sun is up, and morning light seeping into the room through the curtains. Ren is above the ground, hovering in the air, cross-legged, eyes closed. The sweat is dripping down his forehead, and his body is shaking from the strain of maintaining control. His arms tremble, fists clenched tight, but despite his focus, the telekinetic grip holding him in the air begins to lose. A sharp breath escapes him, and then, like a snapped thread, he drops back onto the floor with a thud. "Shit," he mutters, wiping his brow. Lost my control, again.
With frustration, he sits up, crosses his legs, and closes his eyes. The weight of his body feels heavier with every passing second as he strains to lift himself off the ground again, his muscles tensing as if they somehow add to the telekinetic force. Slowly, His body lifts, shaky but stable, just a few inches above the floor, his teeth grit, focus sharp. He holds himself up, focusing intensely, but it's not enough. Just after about a minute, his control begins to falter again, and then, he drops to the floor again with a thud.
Sigh, it's so hard. I've been trying this for all morning and I drops everytime. He lets out a slow breath, frustrated, but not defeated.
He forces himself to stand up, his hands touching his butts. Even my butts are starting to hurt from all the falling.
He rests on the bed for a moment, easing the itching a bit, and moves on to the next exercise: fine control. On the floor lies a coiled rope. Ren crouches down, staring at one end of it and focusing. Just one end, not the whole, just the end.
He stretches his hand toward the rope, not to grab it, but to command it. Slowly, the rope's tip twitches then rise shakily. Ren narrows his eyes, forcing more concentration into the subtle motion. After a moment, the rope lifts more smoothly. He watches it sway, floating slightly higher. Each successful lift eases his frustration, but he knows he has more to do.
He drops the rope and next comes the vibration—the hardest to do yet. He picks up and rolls the smooth, cold marble between his fingers for a moment, thinking. I wasn't able to vibrate this thing before. Maybe my control was too weak… or maybe there's something else to it than just force. But it should be possible. I'll just keep trying until it works.
Placing the marble on his palm, Ren focuses, pulling it into the air. It hovers, moving slowly in a small arc before his face. He increases its speed and the marble whirls faster, but when he tries to decrease the distance of the arc while maintaining the speed, it stumbles in the air, wobbling. And the speed drops as well.
Damn it. He tries again, determined. Faster this time, the marble zips through the air in a wide arc. Again, he attempts to shorten the path it travels, but once more, the speed dies down. His control over the marble fails. Frustration bubbles up in him, dark thoughts flashing through his mind. Why the hell can't I get this right? After several more failed tries, Ren clenches his fist. Next time. I'll get it next time.
He takes a breath, grabbing his bag as he heads out for work. On the way, he practices his control on the pedals of his bike, manipulating them just enough to feel that subtle strain. I need to master the small stuff before I can even think about bigger ones... Or maybe the control is the bigger part.
When Ren arrives at the diner, he locks his bike at the stand and heads in. Just as he takes one step in, he feels off. He moves his hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating faster. He looks around in the diner. But, everything seems exactly the same— at least physically.
But he clearly feels different, can't quite put his finger on this feeling— uneasy, discomfort.
He takes another step in and just then he hears laughter— Eva's laughter. He looks her way, she is standing by the kitchen door, her usual icy demeanor completely thawed. She's smiling, laughing in that high-pitched, musical way he's never heard before.
What's going on, he wonders. Why does she seem so... Different.
He steps ahead, and his eyes narrow as he catches sight through the kitchen window.
There's a man standing there, and she's talking to him—a handsome guy with a confident stance, wearing the chef's uniform.
Who the hell is that? Ren feels a knot twist in his chest, anger rising within him. Why is she talking to him... So chalantly? She is smiling, and her usual cold demeanor is nowhere to be seen.
Her voice seems soft, and she is actively chatting to him. Ren stands there, looking over this way, seeing that scene unfolding before his eyes.
He seems bothered by the way she is leaning at the gate, laughing. The way her eyes are sparkling with interest she has never shown Ren. It's infuriating. She has never talked to him like that.
But before he can even make sense of his growing anger, Eva notices him staring. Her smile falters, and her expression turns sharp, though the edge is playful—dangerous.
"Oh, Nathan, it's so nice to finally work with someone competent," she says, loud enough for Ren to hear. "Unlike some people around here who still need to be babysat." Her gaze flicks to Ren as she smirks, leaning closer to Nathan. "You're talented, you know that? It's good to have you here." She looks at Ren as if Ren is the other useless guy she is referring to.
Ren's fists clench at his sides, the cold burn of her words hitting him harder than usual today.
"Yeah, I used to be terrible at cooking," Nathan replies, scratching the back of his head. "I had to practice a lot. I'm still not that great, though." He smiles sheepishly.
"Oh, please," Eva responds, her voice dripping with admiration. "You're already so much better than most people I know." She shoots Ren another pointed glance, clearly enjoying herself. "It's rare to meet someone so humble and dedicated. You actually try to improve—unlike some people."
Ren's jaw tightens, his teeth grinding together. Who the hell does this guy think he is? He can feel his control slipping, the dark thoughts in his mind growing louder. She's mine. She doesn't even know it yet, but she's going to be my toy.
"Ren," Eva finally addresses him directly, her voice suddenly cold and commanding. "This is Nathan, the new chef. Try to be polite around him, okay?" She practically sneers at him.
Nathan steps out of the kitchen, holding a pan in his hand, and to Ren. He holds out his hand. "Hey, nice to meet you." There's a fake politeness in his tone, and Ren can notice the faint smirk on his lips. He reluctantly shakes his hand, feeling the tension between them immediately.
"Don't worry," Nathan says, "I won't keep you from your work." His smirk deepens, and Ren can feel the condescension, masked as friendly banter. Eva just watches, enjoying the whole thing.
"Go on, Ren," Eva chimes in, waving her hand dismissively. "Move those boxes. We don't have all day."
Ren glares at them both, his temper rising as he slowly loses his grip on the telekinetic force within him. But he turns his head, calming his head and quietly follows the order.
He steps to the boxes at the gate, bends, and lifts them. He starts moving in the boxes, feeling the weight of them, but it's nothing compared to the growing strength in his body. His telekinetic abilities make the task easier, though his mind is far from the job.
As he continues to move the boxes in, his eyes continue to flick back to Eva, who's still laughing and chatting with Nathan. Every time he sees her, his blood boils. She has never smiled at me like that, talked to me like that.
He thinks, why does he even care if she is talking to Nathan like that? Why does he even care if she has never smiled at Ren like that? He knows but he can't admit it— he is jealous, that's burning hotter, mixing with the possessiveness inside him.
Eva's going to be mine, he tells himself again, over and over. She's my toy. How dare you think of having her. She will be mine. I just need to grow stronger first. And then… then she'll know.
But more than that, he can't stand Nathan. How dare he? How dare he look down on me, standing there all smug, like he's better than me. His thoughts turn darker, more twisted as he lifts the boxes, planning. I have to teach him a lesson, a cruel and good one he will never forget for the rest of his life.
He smirks to himself, picturing the ways he could use his powers to make Nathan regret ever showing up here. I can't hurt Eva, though… not her face, not her body. She's too sexy, too perfect. But Nathan? I won't hold back on him. His smirk widens as he imagines Nathan suffering under his telekinesis. He's going to pay.
Continuing to move the boxes, Ren's frustration with his failed training in the morning mixes with his jealousy. Eva glances at him once, catching his smirk. She shudders slightly, muttering under her breath, "Creepy."
Ren doesn't care. His thoughts are already spiraling, consumed by fantasies of power and revenge. I just need to get stronger. Then I'll put Nathan in his place. And Eva? She'll be mine soon enough anyway.
Ren finishes his work, his mind still plotting. Each step he takes and thinks about brings him closer to his goals, and the anticipation of what's to come drives him forward.
They'll both see what happens when you mess with me, mess with the wrong guy.
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As always everyone, comment what you think is gonna happen, or what might. I'll consider them for future scenes. And recommend this to your friends •_•°°°