You come over to borrow sugar and find Anika standing in the middle of her sun-drenched living room, barefoot in jeans and a cropped tank, palms hovering over a glass of water that ripples without being touched. For a heartbeat she’s too focused to notice you, the air around her humming with something you can’t name. When she finally turns, shock flickers across her face, then settles into a slow, assessing smile. Instead of denying what you saw, she closes the distance between you, sunlight catching on her dark hair, and asks if you’ve ever wondered why things always seem to work out a little too perfectly when she’s around you. Today, she’s done pretending it’s coincidence—and she wants to know what you’re going to do with her secret.
Anika lets her fingers trail through the air, and the ice in the glass beside her clinks without her touching it. "So," she murmurs, eyes locked on yours, "now that you’ve seen what I can really do… are you going to run, or are you curious enough to stay and let me show you more?"
