A Little Test (OPEN)

[François Laffont]

It was time for a little test. He knew usually training was supposed to be done inside, with someone there in case he could not control anything. But let’s face it, when your power was to read other people’s emotions, and sometimes feel it as your own, you didn't really need someone to watch over. What was the worst that could happen, really? That he feels someone’s love and is infatuated for a minute? He could deal with that. And the trainers should not complain, for once he was willing to practice.

François had yet mastered a way to totally block emotions coming to him. Instead, he managed to focus on one feeling at the surface or one individual. Of course, when he practiced, he had about that, one individual, in the room. And they often were calm, in control, which helped him. Today he decided to try with several people there at once.

Since the temperature was still a little too cold to play sports outside, he assumed any sport club practicing would do so at the gymnasium. Alright, it didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. But he was right, people were there, playing basketball. He followed the wall, not being in their way as he made it to the bleachers. He took a seat, a little further from the crowd but still close enough to pick up their feelings.

First, he tried to scan the place, get the general feelings around. It wasn’t too hard, even when he didn't want to, it would do it naturally. But now he was forcing his power to take the direction he wanted. Excitement, fun, some frustration over the players that could either not stop another or failed scoring or whatever they called it when that ball was going through the net.

That done and satisfied it worked well, he relaxed a bit, tried to concentrate. He had no idea how other empaths or telepaths could shut all this noise down but at least he knew how to pick one voice in particular. He looked around, saw a brunette girl a few seats down at his left. He focused on her, tried to get her emotions only, pushing away anything else he might get. It wasn’t always easy and it was mostly because he felt bad for reading people like this but he eventually started to pick up her vibe. He smiled, proud of himself all of a sudden.

[Ophelia Murdoch]

Ophelia was sitting in the gymnasium, drawing others. She didn’t care that they might don’t want to be in her notebook. She must draw it. Not them, just the whole picture. As they were playing basketball. She wanted to make a clear picture about it, which she could. It was her first picture here. Although in the morning she began to draw an empty gym, she wasn’t mad about it. She suspected that she couldn’t make the same image about this room after she came back from finding more color pencils.
So she will just make a room with "ghosts". It will show the lost opportunities, and the future possibilities.
Because she didn’t give a damn about the moving people. She only cared about what they were representing. Happiness. Joy. Pain. That was this all game about, wasn’t it? It showed that not everyone can win. One must loose. One always has to.
It made her sad and delighted, because she loved to draw. It relieved her, made her fly inside of herself. And it was sorrowful because of its injustice. Why can’t everybody be the winner?
She looked up to see if she was missing something. Nope.
However, there was a boy who didn’t fit the picture, because he didn’t do anything. He was looking into her direction, and she didn’t like it. Of course, she disliked it. It was like when there’s a family picture where everybody is smiling, except that one man with a gloomy face.
Ophelia hated that. She wanted perfection to her drawings, and she couldn’t tolerate an outsider. She couldn’t let darkness into the light or vice versa.
Ophelia sighed.
Just ignore him! She thought. But... I want the whole picture. I want everything. All the feelings, all the intentions...
However, she couldn't figure it out where she could put him. He was just staring.... as if he was concentrating on something... But what on?
She stopped drawing.
I can’t do that until he goes away or I get to know where is his place on my drawing...

[François Laffont]

Franck had no idea who this girl was. She had her nose in her notebook, looking up from time to time which made him think she was probably drawing or taking notes of everything that was going on. You don’t just raise your head to look around when you’re writing poetry for yourself. Unless you’re waiting for someone he assumed. But that didn't seem to be the case. He liked to think she was there to draw. He always picked up more feelings out of artistic people, and the shy ones even though they often were one and the same. And it was just what he needed right now to practice his ability. He also hoped he could actually get what she was feeling right now without it to actually affect him. It was the worst of his power really. He couldn’t sit next of someone in love without being infatuated himself. He wouldn’t mind picking everyone’s emotion if all he did was react accordingly and not just feel what they felt.

He didn't notice at first that she was staring his way. He was too busy getting what she was going through as she drew, or whatever she might really be doing in that notebook. He startled though as he felt some irritation coming from her. Not that it was so rare, there were tons of reasons to explain this, but because he suddenly realized she had stopped drawing and was indeed staring at him. Did she notice what he did? He felt embarrassed all of a sudden and looked down, next to him, at the players, anywhere but at her.

When he finally looked back in her direction, he was still feeling a little embarrassed that she caught him staring. What if she thought he had an eye on her or something? He should have better thought of this. He gave her a tiny smile. But would she notice? He thought about walking to her and apologize. But that might be a little excessive. Still, he felt the need to justify himself. So with a brighter smile on, Franck just seemed unable not to have one on his face, he made his way towards her. “hi,” he said before falling silent. Okay, this was lame, but all of a sudden he was running a blank and wasn’t certain exactly what he could tell her. Sorry, I was busy digging into your heart to know how you were feeling just because I wanted to try my power and it fell on you? Not really.

[Ophelia Murdoch]

She couldn't believe that she was actually think about what the Evil Quinn has told her. About how she should act. Because she knew how she could be nice. She didn't do anything for years, but smiling kindly and talking with others gently. So why couldn’t she change? Why couldn’t she be sure of herself?
She needed friends, but she didn’t want to have. She wasn’t even sure what’s friendship is about anymore. Her only true company was her pencils and notebook. It was always with her, and it could never leave or hurt her.
But as always, something happened, and she had to stop what she was doing, because a stranger disturbed her concentration. But the odd part wasn’t just that. It was the part when he came to her and greeted her. It made her think that he might want something from her.
She didn’t think that he was staring at her. He could be just thinking so dreamily that he didn’t notice the outside world, or something like that. However, when he made his way to her, she came to a several conclusion and none of it she liked. Plus she didn’t want to get enemies, either. But how else could she tell the boy to go away? Because that was the easiest way to continue her “work.”
“Hi!” she said. “Why were you staring in my way?” She closed her notebook. Not because, she was shy about it. She just didn’t want to show her drawings to anyone yet. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. Why are you here? And why didn’t you play basketball with others?” It still was a little rude thing to ask, but Ophelia couldn’t put it in any nicer way.
She looked down to her notebook.
Super. She thought. Looks like, I’ll get another person to dislike me. Why couldn’t just get people to simply ignore me?
Ophelia has never been popular in her life. She didn't care about popularity. Never.
But now, she just wanted to be invisible.
“Because you know, most people are actually doing something in the gym. Like... playing soccer, basketball, football, or anything. But you were just sitting and staring at something or someone. Then, you came to here. And I don’t think you were waiting here to “attack” the first person you saw alone,” She raised her brow.
That was it. She said aloud, and she prepared herself to the next conflict. What the Evil Quinn has said to her? Oh, yes. She was bitchy, cold, and she shouldn’t be.Therefore, she has to be prepared for her future haters all the time.
In the times like that, she was truly sorry about what she has become. Because she hated to make the worst of the seemingly nice people. But then, she couldn't do anything about it.
It sometimes made her think that her true power was to make everyone dislike her. If not at first, later.

[François Laffont]

François was a people person. Or so, he had always been until his power kicked in and being around too many people proved difficult if not nearly impossible. Now that he was getting a grip at all of this, he wanted to be himself again. And that meant meeting with people. He thought his power could actually really help him at that. He could be around a shy person and know how they were feeling without constantly asking them, he could step back if they felt he was getting too close.

He could pick a bit of hostility from her, but he decided to shrug it off. Must just be trusting issues, as it was so common around here. He startled a little when she asked him bluntly why he was staring at her. Yes, as he expected, she noticed. He scratched the back of his head, his smile still on as if he could charm her with it so she would no longer be pissed by him. “I’m very sorry if it upset you...” he began to say but she cut him, claiming she didn’t care and instead inquired why he was here, making him feel like he was absolutely not wanted. He looked at the guys playing. He was actually amused by the way she kept talking. He came to the conclusion she was not naturally rude. And she deserved an explanation, right?

“I was actually trying to practice my control over my power. I picked someone at random and it landed on you. When I saw you looking at me though... well I just wanted to apologize. I suppose I should have asked you first.” He was ready to pass through that big wall of hers and get something out of it. Maybe not call her a friend yet, he was not naive to the point of naming someone he just meant a friend. But acquaintances, someone he’d like to see again, perhaps? Then again, he could settle for just a smile.

“I’m Franck,” he introduced himself as. He hoped his French accent the whole time he talked didn’t bother her. He didn’t sit next to her just yet. He wasn’t sure she’d let him. And if he wanted to make sure there was no ill feeling between them when he didn’t even know her, he also didn’t want to force his presence on her too much. “I was a little curious what you were doing too. Drawing?” he asked, pointing at her notebook yet not trying to take a peak or anything.

[Ophelia Murdoch]

Somehow it was funny for her that this time she wasn’t the one who had to apologize for something. In a very ironic way, but still. Of course, it wasn’t enough to start laughing or even smiling. It was just like when someone tells her a joke, and she gets it, but doesn’t laugh at it.
She wanted to say, “It’s okay.” But, then she changed her mind and interrupted him.
“Practice your power on me?”  Her voice was sharp. 
Is this some kind of a joke? She asked herself, surprised. Seriously, how could he use his power on me?
She didn’t feel anything while she was drawing. She only noticed him when she looked around. And of course, she was frustrated by the fact that she couldn’t put him in a category. But it was usual. In fact, she still had no idea why he was really here. Right now, she couldn’t think about any kind of power he could possibly use on her.
“No. Actually, you shouldn’t have, because I didn’t like when people disturb me. So the answer would be definitely a no. And then, you couldn’t practice your power, right?” she said honestly, still thinking about what his ability was. Maybe he could make illusions, too? And the basketball players weren’t actually here?
No. She didn’t think that another illusion manipulator could use his power on her.
“But I assume if I didn’t look at you, you wouldn’t have go here and apologize. What kind of power you could practice on me anyway?” Yes. She didn’t believe him, because she didn’t feel anything at all. Somehow, she was sure she would feel it if others use their ability on her.
“Ophelia,” she introduced herself. Then she glanced at her notebook. Her voice softened as she answered him. "Yes. I was just... drawing the room and them. I kinda... tried to get the feelings and the goals from it. You know... what I see when I look at them as a whole. What they represent...” She ironically smiled at him. "You know what? I think it’s totally fine that you practiced your power on me. Since I didn’t ask that they want to be on my drawings, either. Call it karma!” She said, then sighed when she realized that Franck was still standing. “And why didn’t you sit down?”

[François Laffont]

Yeah, as he expected, she didn’t take it very well. Then again, who would? It was not like he could manipulate her, or change her hair color without her knowing or that he tried to make a cloud pour rain down on her. He never would have dared try any of this on her without her knowing and accepting it. He knew that, to many people, his power was kind of lame. He was a bit surprised though when she snapped at him, not much because he used his power on her but because he was apologizing. So basically, she was telling him it didn’t matter as long as he did not bother himself to tell her? What kind of logic was that? Now, he really was confused.

It was only after that she asked what he possibly could have as powers. He thought she’d ask first. He knew he would have. But obviously he was not her. And he was now making efforts to deal with all he was picking up from her. Luckily, his embarrassment was stronger than anything she could feel right now about him so he didn’t appear too pissed like she apparently was. “I’m an empath. I just wanted to see if I could pick up someone’s feeling in particular rather than that of everyone around,” he explained, making a gesture of his hand to embrace the whole gymnasium and everyone present.

He noticed a softness that wasn’t there before as she talked of drawing. She must really like to draw then. He smiled as she talked of feeling. Boy, did he know about that! Then again, he never tried to put it in a picture. He chuckled a little as apparently talking of art softened not just her tone but her mood also. He sat as she suggested it. “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier. It’s just, since my powers are pretty harmless, I figured I could practice them on my own and it wouldn’t bother anyone. You kind of caught me off guard when I realized you were staring in my direction,” he admitted. Well, apparently she had no problem and now that she knew... maybe she might not like someone picking up her feelings. “It’s not like I picked up something intimate or anything. Just how you felt while drawing,” he made sure to add quickly before she really started to lose her temper on him. He looked at the guys playing basketball. “I doubt they mind you drawing them though.”

[Ophelia Murdoch]

(OOC: Sorry, it's a bit long... I didn't mean to write that much. o.o)

Why didn’t she thought about that? It was kind of obvious that he was an empath. That’s the only way nothing changed around her while she was drawing. But it was still disappointing that she couldn’t feel if someone was kind of going into her head or heart. Who knows who else have felt her feelings? She hoped nobody, because she didn’t wish to tell them her secrets. Not in any way. She couldn’t have a mask from everyone if they could see through it.
She examined him. It should be a relief that he could understand her without her explanation. But... would it be a good idea? She didn’t want to be vulnerable, and it made her weak. She almost was an open book before him.
Then she thought about it again, and realized that she wasn’t the only one who could dislike that power.
“An empath? It’s one of the worst abilities I've heard about. Since you can feel if someone dislikes you or even hate you. Or can you turn off?” she asked. She wanted to ask something else, but it would lead to a conclusion about her that she didn’t want to. However, he could still feel her feelings. So why wouldn’t she ask it then? “Can you feel if someone loves you? And if you do, can you feel how strong is that feeling toward you? Because I think it would be good, but horrible too. Since if it changes, it would be a disaster, right? You can see on the people when something is different about them, but if someone can feel it too, it’s like double, isn’t it? By the way, you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious.” Okay. She wasn’t just curious. She needed to know. She began to think about what if she would have that power, instead of hers. She thought it would be worse. That it could destroy her, but... it also could also make everything clear. She could know if someone really meant what she has said to her...
No. She has to stop. She didn’t have his power, and it’s better to not torture herself about the past. No matter how close was that past.
I need to hide my feelings somehow. She thought. Or just don’t thinking about my family.
Then Franck began to explain why he has practiced his power on her, and she tried to relax. She reminded herself that there’s no point to act like someone she wasn’t when he could know the truth anyway.
Of course, it didn’t mean that she trusted him or anything.
“Yeah, I know. I almost didn't. But you know, I didn’t know that you were practicing on me, or that you even looked at me. I just thought that something is not right,” she declared. It was a bit exciting for her that she wasn’t mean this time. She liked to be not rude. She just didn’t like to not keep the distance. Because if she didn’t keep it, she could start to trust people... then they will betray her eventually.
When Franck told her that he wasn’t picking up any intimate stuff, she asked, “About that... Do you feel what I feel right now?” She was the only one who thought it sounded a little different than she planned to? Because she just wanted to know that he was still using his power on her. And it wasn’t an invitation to practice his ability on her, either.
Ophelia almost smiled when he said that the basketball players probably don’t mind what she was doing.
Ophelia looked at them.
“Well, who knows? I heard that some people get pay for being a model, but who pays them? Sure not me,” she said, then she continued sarcastically. “Plus it's not like a romantic stuff as if one of them was my crush. So it’s virtually like taking a picture of them.

[François Laffont]

[OoC: you never have to apologize about post length to me ^^]
François felt he should really have known better. People would share their feelings with you if they wanted to do so, they didn’t want for someone to tell them they already knew. But it was kind of hard for Franck. After all, he never managed to shut it down. Even now, sitting next to Ophelia, he was picking up vibes from her, like he was of everyone else in the gymnasium. Of course, he was not able to dig deep down in her feelings merely by standing close of her. He just knew how she felt on the surface, without her telling so, despite how good a poker face she may have.

He remained quiet for a moment, giving her time to question herself about this. He was a little surprised when she said it must be one of the worst abilities. Usually, people found it lame. They couldn’t care less about the downsides. But she pinpointed the worst disadvantage of it. He sighed and shook his head when she asked if he could turn it off. “I can quiet it down,” he said, but that sure was not the same thing. He did feel good however that she understood his problem with his power.

She drowned him in questions all of a sudden and Franck laughed a bit at first. Alright what was the first question again? “No, it’s ok. Yes, I can feel love, or hate. And when it changes. As for the strength of the feeling... well it’s kind of hard since everyone feels differently. But yeah I guess I can tell if someone loves you a little or a lot,” he said. For a second, he wondered if she didn’t want to just toss him in front of some guy’s face to know whether he liked her or not. He was actually surprised not more of his friends thought of that one. Maybe they were afraid of the answer?

He frowned a bit at what she said. Not right? “What do you mean?” he asked. She felt more relaxed as they talked and it helped him too. As she was less on the defensive, he felt less like he had to apologize. He bit his lower lip though when she asked if he could feel what she felt right now. He had a small nod. “But just on the surface. Nothing too personal, basically how you feel about me ever since I came to talk to you,” he explained. He could tell there was something she wanted to hide so she probably feared he’d pick it up with his power. He hoped with what he said she’d worry a bit less.

Franck didn’t ask about her power. He knew some were not all that confident about sharing that piece of information. Then again, Franck was usually not going to people saying hi, I’m an empath. He didn’t want to force her into telling him just because he told her his. This whole I show you mine, you show me yours was not necessary. He chuckled a bit when they talked of the basketball team. “I’m sure there are a bunch of egos in there who wouldn’t mind being drawn by someone. Might even take the shirt off if you ask them,” he replied, still chuckling a bit as he watched the game played in front of them. He was not serious there but he suddenly thought about those chests and, my, there were a few he wouldn’t mind seeing.

[Ophelia Murdoch]

“Oh,” she said, when he told her that he can quiet it down. And they both knew that meant he feels others’ feeling all the time. Ophelia couldn’t even imagine a life like that. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” she said. She almost tried to say something nice, something optimistic. However, she realized that he doesn’t need her pity. Mainly, because his power was quite cool. Plus she just felt like she finally met someone who wasn’t so perfect with his ability, either. Not like she met so many people, but still.
Franck laughed, and for a moment she thought he'll say something bad. Then she must defense herself. However, he didn’t say anything horrible. Not yet. Maybe he'll, just not now. But until then, she was okay. Too much, because she had to remember that she didn’t want to make friends. Just because he could feel her feelings, he won’t be any different from others. It didn’t mean that he liked her, or even if he did, he’ll keep feeling that.
“It's not like I want to know if someone likes me or not,” she explained when he said that he could tell if someone loves her or not. She didn’t want to make him think that she was that kind of person who desperately wanted to know what others feel about her. It was actually the opposite. “It’s better for me to not know if someone likes me. So before you think, that’s not why I asked. Namely I really don’t want to know. Like ever.” She probably over-explained herself, but she couldn’t do anything else. She seriously didn’t want to know what others feel about her. Mainly, because of someone liked her and she knew it, it would break her heart, since it wouldn’t change her feeling about that person.
Ophelia bit her lip. It sounded a little foolish to admit that she thought something isn't right, because he didn’t fit in her drawing. She didn’t even know why she had to tell him that. She should have thought that it will only makes sense for her.
“It’s stupid,” she said, then she looked at her notebook for a moment. She really shouldn’t have been nice, because he’ll laugh at her. He’ll make fun of her in a minute he’ll get know why she though that something is wrong. “It's like when I'm drawing, I'm not only drawing what I see. As I’ve told you that. I kind of put everyone in a category in the room. All the people will have their own goals...” She didn’t want to talk about feelings, because he knew too much of it. But later she told him, because she didn’t want to make exceptions with people just because of their power. Although she already did so. “feelings, and so on. I’m looking at them, and I try to figure it out those things about them. Why they are here and something like that... And you know, it was never important for me where they exactly are, because I always focused on the room. So all the people had to fill it somehow. But you messed up, because you were sitting and not looking at the basketball players. That’s why it was so frustrating. Kind of.” Ophelia knew that he could see through her mask, but it didn’t change anything. As she talked about drawing, her voice became a little cooler. Simply, because she needed some kind of protection if he thought that was the lamest explanation he has ever heard.
“And which one is better? When you concentrate on one person or when you feel all the people around you? Or if none of that, how could you make it easier?” She had a foolish idea. A really foolish idea, because Franck was obviously better off without her complicated feelings.
“I hope not. I don't think I could work if they have no shirts on. I can’t imagine myself doing so,” she said with a laughing voice. She could see three possible things she would do if she was about to draw a boy without shirts. First, she would be too embarrassed to actually do something useful. Second, she would be so rigid that she couldn’t do her work. Third, she saw the boy without shirts before and she wanted to recall that memory. And in reality, the third one could be the only way she would ever draw someone like that.

[François Laffont]

Franck shrugged as Ophelia mentioned that quieting the feelings around was still better than nothing. It was quite true but, as she pointed out before, it still was not easy. Funny how so many people wished they knew what others felt about them while all that Franck wished was not to know anymore. He didn’t need to be around a girl and feel her guilt for liking greasy food because she was certain she’ll get huge because of it. He didn’t like to be around someone having a crush on a friend and be able to tell said friend couldn’t care less about them. And what good could it really do to know that the bully of the school was doing so because of a hole he felt inside, other than being more bullied by him should you tell?

He frowned, intrigued as she stated she didn’t want to know if someone liked her. Somehow, it sounded more than just not wanting him to tell and more like not wanting to know at all. “You don’t want people to tell you if they like you?” he let out, unable to hide his surprise about this. He would have done anything for his mother to like him as much as he thought she liked him before. But perhaps she always loved him as he felt it, perhaps a part of her always hated him. That really was the worst about his power, knowing that even someone who loves you most of the time can hate you on occasions.

Franck started to think Ophelia was guarding herself too much. It must be why she didn’t want to know what other felt about her. Franck was the opposite. Even if he could tell directly someone might not like him as much as he did like them, he was still trying his best to make the relationship worth. Sure he ended up hurt on occasions but at least, for a moment, he felt something real and not just what the others felt.

He could feel her discomfort as he asked what she meant. He was ready to dismiss it, not wanting to complicate things here. But she said it eventually. He nodded as she explained. He knew art and emotions were tightly linked together. He laughed a bit once again when she said she was frustrated at him because she had no idea what he was doing there. “And now that you do?” he asked her. He supposed she could just not draw him, or pretend he was looking at the game, or simply wait for him to leave and be content now that everything was, as she said, right.

Franck took the time to think about it as she asked more questions. “Well, I always feel things, so I need to concentrate to focus on one person or one feeling in particular. And if there is one stronger, I can only feel it...” he paused as he tried to find an example she would easily understand. “Imagine their feelings drawn. Each has its own set of mixed emotions and the stronger they feel, the bigger they are in your picture. It makes it hard to notice the tiny details in the back.” Was it clear? He felt like he made things even more complicated. He scratched the back of his head again at the thought of it. “Sorry if I’m not making much sense, I just don’t quite know how to explain it all.”

He laughed, rather happy that he made her laugh as well. He shrugged again. “Oh well, they’re still not so bad looking clothed,” he commented. Anyway, she probably would have been too shy to see men with no shirt on, even if there was nothing very intimate about it right now. “Sorry for asking, but how old are you exactly?”

[Ophelia Murdoch]

It wasn’t so surprising for her to see Franck’s reaction about her answer. Since normal people wanted to know about others’ feelings. Normal people wished for the power of Franck’s ability. But she has been never an average person. Even in the past, she didn’t want others to tell her their feelings toward her. Namely she thought she doesn’t need to hear from others.
Unfortunately, the world had something different in mind for her. Thus she was here, thus she had a power that ruined her relationship with her mom and with her best friend. Thus she was looking at someone and she couldn’t not think that her past will repeat itself eventually. She didn’t know the how, and she didn’t even need to. The most important thing was that it will happen again. And she didn’t want it; her heart was broken once, and she didn’t want to break it again.
“No. I don’t,” she said sadly as she was watching the basketball players. It was easier than looking into Franck’s eyes. “Because... because they won’t like me in the end,” she said, shrugging as it was just a little thing. When it was actually a huge thing for her. Why would she make friends if they will turn against her in the end? “Something will happen as always. And I’m not even nice here, in this school. But you know, it’s not like I want to hurt someone’s feelings. It’s just easier if they don’t like me. So don’t be surprised if you, for example, mention me to Erika Bellefonte, and she will say that I’m a cold, ignorant, and a bitchy person.” It hurt her. It really did, but she managed to tell him in a loose way. She needed to say as if it was nothing, because it kept her strong. “But hey, I don’t have to explain that to you. You have to just recall what was my first reaction when you came here,” she smiled ironically. She really tried to be unfriendly, but Franck just couldn’t let her do it. Plus he caught her in her weak moment. Furthermore he asked her about her drawings which she loved so much to not talk about it.
“Now, I’ll have to figure it out how I’ll draw it,” she said. Her smile was much more honest now. “But I have an idea. It’s just easier talk about when I actually begin to do it. If you want to, after I finished it, I can show you my drawing. And of course, you’ll only in it if you stay since I didn’t draw you there yet,” she explained, just to make everything clear, because she wasn’t sure that after their talking, he’ll be still here.
So why did you offer him to show your drawing? She asked herself. You don’t want to be friendly, remember? Ophelia remembered it well. However, she was so tired of arguing with others; she needed to rest for at least a moment.
“By the way, I really don’t want to be friendly or anything.” Okay. That sounded stupid. Seriously. “But you better off without being my almost-friend, or just being nice with me, since who knows how many friends of yours I did or will make angry at me,” she cleared everything. It was bad enough for her to make an awkward situation between Felix and Erika. She didn’t want to do it for Franck. Since it wasn’t even worth for him. Because he’ll despise her, and then, he’ll hear from his friends thee words: see? I told you! 
Ophelia smiled at him, when he apologized for his answer. It was quite cute actually. And she hated it. Really. He was too friendly, and he knew when she says something bad, she doesn’t mean it. So how will she able to keep the distance? She just made mistakes after mistakes.
“Yeah, I got it,” she calmed him. “That’s why you needed to practice on someone, right? By the way, I think it would be better if you would practice on a generally happy person.” Then she thought about something else, too. “Or... I don’t know. I’m just guessing about it.”
Ophelia listened to him when he said about how the boys look like, and she thought that Franck maybe bisexual or homosexual, beacuse of the way he talked about them. And of course, she didn't know much about boys. So she had no right to assume that. She probably just wanted to know it before she’ll do something more foolish. Like began to like him in an other way. So she can just think about him as a girl. Or something like that.
“Fifteen,” she said, then she changed the topic. “Are you a foreigner?” she asked. Seriously, Ophelia? She thought. That’s not what you wanted to know!
Ophelia didn’t even really notice his accent. Just a little. But damn. People just don’t ask others that they’re interested on both sex or not. And why was she thinking about it anyway? She had no rights to even consider this idea, because she was still the one who didn’t know much about boys. And it really wasn't a big deal anyway. She was just way more curious than she suppose to be.

[François Laffont]

Franck felt terribly sorry for Ophelia as she gave him her reason. Able as he was to feel what everyone felt, he always tried to cheer whoever was a little down. He knew his attempts were not always welcomed. But he hated to feel all this pain and sadness that he tried to fix this whenever he could. Alright, it rarely worked. But it was still worth the try. “I doubt she’ll ever say that about you,” he objected. He knew Erika. But then again, if Ophelia pushed away a girl like Erika, who was a ray of sunshine, maybe she’d consider her cold. Still, it was no excuse, right? He had a sheepish smile when she pointed out he should know, with the way she treated him. “I could tell you were guarded and slightly pissed but I thought it was just because I was staring at you and maybe you found out what I did,” he said, shrugging it off. He couldn’t believe she would think this. He really was sorry for her. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. Trust me, there are colder people in here and unlike you, some do it just for the fun of it.” Somehow, he wanted to tell her not to prevent herself from feeling anything. But since he often wished if he could, he doubted he was the best placed to tell her to feel and be hurt.

He could also argue that her cold demeanor didn’t last very long as Franck seemed to have melt it away. He smiled as she suggested showing him the picture once it would be done. “I’d love to,” he answered. “Do I have to sit back there or can I stay near?” he asked. She might not want to have someone watching over her or talking to her and disturbing her as she drew.

He startled a moment when she let out she didn’t want to be friend with him. Okay... yet another odd thing to say. He smiled at her reason. “I can go for almost-friend,” he assured her even though he knew he could make her drop the ‘almost’ at some point.

Franck shrugged as she said he should try with someone happy. “I would prefer it I suppose, since I share the feeling a bit. But I was trying to see if I could focus on something a little more... subtle?” Franck tried to explain the best he could. Not only he wasn’t sure he had the words to explain it, but he had to say them in a different language as well. He doubted speaking it in French would make any more sense to Ophelia.

Fifteen... Wow. That was young to be so scared of people. And now, Franck felt old for thinking that. Seriously, he was barely older than she was! But at their age, it seemed so much. He arched his eyebrows at her next question. “I’m French,a ctually,” he said with a light chuckle in his voice. That was what she was asking, right? Foreigners as in, from somewhere else than the States. “I hope my accent does not bother you. I toned it down a lot since I arrived here, but I know I still have a lot to work on.”

[Ophelia Murdoch]

Ophelia couldn’t say anything for a moment. She couldn’t believe what he was saying to her. She didn’t tell him that, so he can comfort her, and say good things. She thought about dislike or maybe a little judgment from him. Or just a question like what did you do to her? If he knew Erika. But not this.
It meant he liked her or believed that she couldn’t make people that mad at her.
She wanted to tell Franck that it’s not right, it's not true. However, she wasn’t the one for convincing him about her “relationship” with the Quinn. Mainly, because she didn’t like the Bellefonte girl, and she was afraid that she might say something bad about her. Or if she won’t, she’ll say something about herself that will make him feel more sorry for her.
And Ophelia Murdoch did not need sorry. She didn’t even want to talk about something so complicated as her meeting with Erika and Felix. Of course, it was already decided that she’ll have to show Franck that she can be very-very unfriendly. She must. Just not right now, when he’ll not believe her.
“I’m not. I’m really not nice with others, and the why really doesn’t matter. People don’t have time to think about that part when someone insults them,” she tried to explain. “But I didn’t tell you that to feel sorry for me or even try to convince about my coldness or not coldness”
Ophelia smiled when he agreed to see her drawing. Though, she was a little surprised that he could even wait for it to be finished, she was happy about it. She only hoped that he’ll like it, because as almost every artist, she was very sensitive about her creations.
“Maybe, you have to play basketball,” she joked. Not as if it was a horrible thing to do, because Ophelia was sure that it’s a very good game. She was just not very good at it. “But yeah, I think you can stay near, just don’t talk or anything while I’m drawing. You can if you must, but remember, if you’ll bother me, I’ll give you the worst part in the picture. Or just gone mad.”
When Francks said he can go for an almost-friend, she looked at him with an amazed face. Has he gone deaf or what’s wrong with him? She explained her why she can’t be his friend very briefly. She told him that she makes people dislike or even hate her. So why was he acting like it didn’t matter? What’s wrong with him?? He was like “Oh, hey. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to be my friend. I can deal with whatever role you give me.”
He cannot be like that.
He must have joked with her. There’s no more explanation.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, still amazed. “No offense, but I told you that I’ll make your friends furious. I will probably affront them with or without intending to. Plus it’s not even good for your ability, either. I’m sometimes calm, and then someone says something and all those calm and peaceful thoughts are gone. But...” she glanced at him. He probably could never be more than an almost-friend. And if he has to choose between her almost-friendship and the others’, he’ll not choose her. He’ll never... So in short, she’ll be alone after all. But not too much. Plus she wasn’t even sure that he was serious about their friendship. “But you can go for an almost-friend title. It just won’t be good. It won’t be good for you, and you’ll regret it because of your friends. Because they won’t like me, and I can’t stop not making them not dislike me. It’s just so selfish. You have no benefits from that.” Now, she was exaggerating. But she couldn’t stop herself. She was already guilty about it. Even if he was joking. And she hoped, he did. Because she wasn’t a good company. She was sure she would bring bad luck for him. And for what? For nothing.
“You were trying to focus on the little things, feelings?” she asked, because Franck's words sounded more like a question than an answer.
Ophelia smiled when he said that he hopes his accent doesn’t bother her. Then she thought maybe people from other countries are nicer than here. Maybe...
Okay. That was racist. Ophelia stopped herself. You are racist for your own race. Very nice. People are people. There is no difference.
“It's totally fine. I even heard that a lot of people like those who speak with accent. I guess, because it's more interesting than hearing always the same tone from others. Plus you don’t really have to work on anything. If others tell you that they don’t understand what you’re saying, it’s probably because they are jerks and enormous liars,” she said, smiling. Half of her speech was kind of a joke, but it was still true. His accent was perfect. It was like he was speaking with English, just with a little plus on it. And everybody like a little plus, don’t they?

[François Laffont]

Alright, Ophelia really didn’t like when people were nice to her. He didn’t understand that. He was dealing with enough negativity that he was looking for kindness but she seemed to be running away from it. Well, not exactly. More like biting whoever would try to be nice. He had no idea why she brought up Erika or what might have happened between them. Well, he could guess, judging with how she was treating him right now. Somehow, telling him over and over that she was cold and not a nice person made him think the opposite. You don’t tell people you are evil, you act evil on them. Still, since she didn’t want him to feel sorry about her, he might as well comfort her on that part. “It’s not that. I guess I’m just so used to feeling sadness or anger all around that I look for some warmth in all of this. I always try to find something positive out of everything,” he explained, shrugging to make it sound as if it was nothing really. But it did mean to him. And somehow he had the feeling that if they met again, she would not be the cold-hearted bitch she wanted him so much to think she was. He could be wrong. But he still thought so.

He laughed a bit when she told him that maybe he should play with the boys. “I’m more of a foo... soccer fan myself,” he replied. Besides, he didn’t want to have the guys too close of him. It would be distracting. He was fine with where he was. He laughed again when she threatened him should he talk. He nodded and brought his hand to his mouth, ‘zipping’ his lips together to show he would be quiet.

He was startled however by her question. He let her rant and when she seemed over, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Seriously? I think the worst they’ll do is ask why I still bother. I’m not suggesting of introducing you to them or to always drag you around with me. I think I can choose who I want to be with. Of course, I’m not forcing myself on you, if you don’t want to see me, I can just go,” he said, slightly amused by her attitude. He pointed at the doors as if waiting for her to tell him to leave to do so. “You need to give people some credit.” Okay, he doubted she’d take that advice in consideration but he still needed to say it.

He laughed on her comment about his accent. “Jerks and liars, I like that,” he said. He wasn’t thinking she was really serious here. But he was glad to know his accent was not too complicated to understand. Anyway, it was English, he just said R’s and E’s differently and sometimes forgot about H’s. But it was English. “I’m quiet now,” he said, reminding he promised to. He made a gesture again to show he was shutting his mouth but he had an amused smile as he looked at her. She was... interesting.