Matching pairs of blue eyes snapped up at the rise in sound as a ruckus stirred up in the halls. The doors burst open and the bundle of cloth that was a boy stumbled in tossing himself in a chair across from them. Hunter rose, concerned by the bloody lip and heavy breathing, moving around the table and reaching out to push the lad’s head between his knees. Harper shifted between them, grabbing Hunter’s wrist to halt the gesture.
“Three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a dislocated shoulder.” Her voice was low and even as she listed the injuries she’d given the last person who’d touched her without consent. Holding eye contact with her brother she lifted her other hand directly to the scar on his chest as a reminder their powers couldn’t stop everything. Only when she was sure he understood and wasn’t going to touch the boy, did she boost herself onto the table between them. She edged her soda towards their newfound company and took a hefty bite of sandwich as Hunter returned to his seat.
“You know I have grass stains on my butt because of you. Probably a bruise too. I’m going to tell dad. You’re going to get in trouble.” She spoke around the food, over the soft muttering of the boy, once more shifting her soda towards him. Her feet swung in an erratic pattern as once again Hunter snorted at her. His eyes flicked over the eskimo, understanding what she wanted, doubting it would work. He was on his way to a full blown panic attack, though if she continued moving that glass, maybe the shock of soda in his lap would snap him back. Opting to play along for know he leaned back with a grin.
“Maybe I’ll tell dad about…”
“YOU WOULDN”T DARE!!” Hunter lifted a brow, sipping from his own soda, as Harper leapt to her feet and shoving an accusing finger in his direction, her back now to the boy. Cleaver plan of distraction, forgotten in her sudden outrage.
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