Brendon notices as soon as he steps into his new classroom. At the far end, there's a girl scribbling in her notebook, head down, and he, he, oh shit. Her head snaps up and she's staring right at him, and--
Who the hell are you? she thinks, right at him, clear and strong and obviously trained. And then, loudly, Get the fuck out of my head! She shoves (metaphorically--well, mentally, anyway), Brendon yelps, and then falls over.
It doesn't get him out of her head, though, because what's going on isn't really standard random-telepath-encounter-confusion. Sorry, he thinks at her blearily from where he's lying on the ground. Sorry.
What's going on? she says, less angry but no less wary, and her question overlaps with Mrs Calhoun's, resulting in Brendon trying to have two conversations at once and almost having the wrong one out loud. Which, by the way, hasn't happened in years. He's just a little thrown by the wide open connection to--Z, that's her name, Z, and she gives him that freely so he can use it--and he can't quite keep anything straight.
Including his feet. It takes him another minute to actually get up.
The rest of class proceeds more or less smoothly, apart from when Brendon keeps accidentally writing down the answers to the problems Z is working on in the middle of his own notebook. After, though.
Z grabs him and drags him off in the opposite direction of the Spanish class room he's supposed to be moving toward, and into what she mentally terms "Arts and crafts and whatever-the-fuck-I-want."
She throws him a quick smile when he catches that. "Abrahamson likes me," she explains, before sitting him down in a chair and fixing him with a glare. "Explain," she says, throwing quite a bit of mental weight behind it.
"I'm not sure," he says, his voice wavering a little. "I'm not sure, but I can't shut you out, and I think maybe, um. Did anyone ever talk to you about meeting your Other Half?"
Z blanches.
--
And there are a couple of weeks after that when things are really shitty, like, almost as shitty as when his parents found out he had a Gift and decided they wanted none of that in their home and Brendon had to find an apartment and a job and get his telepathy certification all at once (since Gifted can't live on their own without being certified). Z doesn't talk to him, doesn't acknowledge him, and it's like a physical wound in Brendon's mind.
But then he's woken up in the middle of the night on a Saturday by someone ringing the doorbell and he knows it's her before he even opens. She's all there, too, open to him, and he can't keep the hope from rising even as he tries to squish it down so she won't get scared.
He opens the door. Her face is streaked with tears and she reaches out for him both mentally and physically and he's never ever going to let her go.
"Hey," he murmurs into her hair.
Hey, she says back, and he can't breathe with how right it feels.
"Like a puzzle," she says, and then she kisses him.
Oh, oh, I'm never letting you go, he thinks again, and she's laughing in his head and out loud and agreeing when they tumble onto his bed.
HOW ABOUT TELEPATHY WITH SOULBONDS, HUH?
Who the hell are you? she thinks, right at him, clear and strong and obviously trained. And then, loudly, Get the fuck out of my head! She shoves (metaphorically--well, mentally, anyway), Brendon yelps, and then falls over.
It doesn't get him out of her head, though, because what's going on isn't really standard random-telepath-encounter-confusion. Sorry, he thinks at her blearily from where he's lying on the ground. Sorry.
What's going on? she says, less angry but no less wary, and her question overlaps with Mrs Calhoun's, resulting in Brendon trying to have two conversations at once and almost having the wrong one out loud. Which, by the way, hasn't happened in years. He's just a little thrown by the wide open connection to--Z, that's her name, Z, and she gives him that freely so he can use it--and he can't quite keep anything straight.
Including his feet. It takes him another minute to actually get up.
The rest of class proceeds more or less smoothly, apart from when Brendon keeps accidentally writing down the answers to the problems Z is working on in the middle of his own notebook. After, though.
Z grabs him and drags him off in the opposite direction of the Spanish class room he's supposed to be moving toward, and into what she mentally terms "Arts and crafts and whatever-the-fuck-I-want."
She throws him a quick smile when he catches that. "Abrahamson likes me," she explains, before sitting him down in a chair and fixing him with a glare. "Explain," she says, throwing quite a bit of mental weight behind it.
"I'm not sure," he says, his voice wavering a little. "I'm not sure, but I can't shut you out, and I think maybe, um. Did anyone ever talk to you about meeting your Other Half?"
Z blanches.
--
And there are a couple of weeks after that when things are really shitty, like, almost as shitty as when his parents found out he had a Gift and decided they wanted none of that in their home and Brendon had to find an apartment and a job and get his telepathy certification all at once (since Gifted can't live on their own without being certified). Z doesn't talk to him, doesn't acknowledge him, and it's like a physical wound in Brendon's mind.
But then he's woken up in the middle of the night on a Saturday by someone ringing the doorbell and he knows it's her before he even opens. She's all there, too, open to him, and he can't keep the hope from rising even as he tries to squish it down so she won't get scared.
He opens the door. Her face is streaked with tears and she reaches out for him both mentally and physically and he's never ever going to let her go.
"Hey," he murmurs into her hair.
Hey, she says back, and he can't breathe with how right it feels.
"Like a puzzle," she says, and then she kisses him.
Oh, oh, I'm never letting you go, he thinks again, and she's laughing in his head and out loud and agreeing when they tumble onto his bed.