(no subject)
Trevor sits in the corner booth, keeping his eyes on the door as he flips a cigarette into his mouth. Without thinking, he cups one hand around the other, shielding his powers as he shoots a small flame from his closed fist. As the flame nears the cigarette tip, Trevor catches himself, glaring at the "no smoking" sign as he smothers the flame in his hand and returns the unburned cigarette to its former place behind his ear.
'Better hurry up, Corrine,' he thinks as he slumps petulantly in his seat, re-adjusting his costume beneath his shirt. As he sits there, he wonders for the tenth time why Corrine wanted to meet him in the Slum, and more important than that, why she had told him "not to bother" Caleb about the meeting.
At last giving in to his craving for a cigarette, Trevor stands, absently grabbing his helmet and waving his cigarette pack at the waitress to let her know where he's going.
'Better hurry up, Corrine,' he thinks as he slumps petulantly in his seat, re-adjusting his costume beneath his shirt. As he sits there, he wonders for the tenth time why Corrine wanted to meet him in the Slum, and more important than that, why she had told him "not to bother" Caleb about the meeting.
At last giving in to his craving for a cigarette, Trevor stands, absently grabbing his helmet and waving his cigarette pack at the waitress to let her know where he's going.