Her head was throbbing, her eyes burning. The effort to call out a vision at will was draining, and she wanted to stop struggling with her power, to just let it be, raw and untamed. It would be so easy to give up. But no. Charlotte Bourbon did not give up just like that. In her was a stubborn determination to be in control of herself, and she was tired of fainting almost everytime she had a vision. Her trainer was not helping her wavering will, though.
“We can call this off if you want to, alright? You don’t need to force yourself,” Charles had had his eyebrow furrowed, eyes clouded in worry. “I know you’re in pain. If you can’t take the discomfort we can stop-“
“No!” she shook her head fiercely, eyes flashing. “No,” she repeated, softer this time before glaring at him, getting angry. “What kind of trainer are you supposed to be, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to push me so I have progress? Right? Right! So push!” she all but yelled, anger getting the best of her. Her outburst had left her heaving and gasping for breath, and she looked at him, a hard glint in her eye.
Something in his eyes changed, something shifted. What? All she knew was that he seemed different all of a sudden, something darker and unlike his normal, goofball self. “You want me to push you?” he echoed. “Fine. Sit up straighter. Look straight in front of you.”
Automatically, she followed, confusion flooding her features. “I want you to understand that you asked for this,” he suddenly said, before crouching in front of her, making eye contact. She stiffened, almost starting to say something about her personal space but thought the better of it as they stared each other down, brown eyes versus green eyes. What the… ”Now. I want you to see something in my future,” he said, and she blinked in surprise. “And don’t make it up. I’ll know.” Nodding, she stared straight into his eyes, searching for… what? Something. She focused as hard as she could.Let me see. Let me see. I want to see. Her effort was taking a toll- her head throbbed even more before she let out a sigh and slumped in her seat, defeated. “I can’t,” she said simply.
“Then you’re pathetic,” he replied, standing up. “I thought you wanted to be able to use your power. I thought you wanted to control it, and not let it control you?” he continued. What’s happening to you, Charles? she thought, feeling a slight apprehension, but she braced herself, her voice ringing clear and confident, opposite of what she was feeling. “I am not pathetic. I will control this,” she spat, and a cruel-looking smile formed on her trainer’s lips.
He crouched in front of her once again, and she stared at him, trying with all her might. The effort was doubling the pain, and she almost stopped, but she almost stopped, but remembered his scathing words, and tried once more. Her pain was building up to unbearable, until suddenly… it stopped.
What the hell?
Charles was no longer in front of her, and wherever she looked, she saw objects warping and taking shape, until she realized— she was having a vision. Taking stock of her surroundings, she looked about it suspicion. She was in a small apartment, things strewn about in disarray, and she felt a sickening feeling start to take place in her stomach. Whose apartment was this…?
Suddenly, there was a loud gunshot and she stiffened as she heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. Heading to where she heard the noise, she stopped in her tracks as she saw a bloodied slump of a man on the floor, his breath erratic as he clutched his gushing wound on his stomach.
It was like coming up from a deep trance, like resurfacing after being underwater for hours. Charlotte gasped for breath, eyes widening as she realized she was on the floor, face-up and staring into the worried eyes of her trainer. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I pushed you too far.” She realized with a pang that he was back to his usual self, all traces of whatever dark had grasped him moments before gone.
“I’m fine,” she waved it off. “I asked you to, don’t blame yourself, alright?” she breathed, before continuing, “Charles… I saw something-” he shook his head, and she stopped. He doesn’t want to know?
“We’re done for the day, Charlotte. Let’s go get ice cream, yes? I find that that’s the best cure for after-vision hangovers,” he pulled her up and started dragging her out of the room, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his childishness. She was dreading the next training day, the next time she’d have to see something in his past- she didn’t want to know anymore than she should know about him, but there it was.
If she wanted to get better, she’d just have to man up and do it.