Your Shadow

[Everett King]

Erika Bellefonte

The lake was one of Everett's favorite places to draw. The afternoon sun was dipping low on the horizon, dyeing the expanse of water a rose pink. The sparse trees on the other side of the lake created a beautiful view, which Ever, seated on the edge of the dock, was busily sketching. His love of the place was probably not only for the calming scenery, but also because as something not technically 'alive', there was no way he could bring it to life in his art.

His jeans pants were rolled up his thighs, feet paddling absently in the water as his pencil brushed across the notepad. His attention was briefly captured by the form of a person walking around the edge of the lake, heading in his direction. He could see long hair, but the rest of the body's details were lost in shadow and distance. Regardless, he tried his best to remember the shape and began scratching the human into his sketch.

The next time he looked up the form was gone, but he felt he'd captured enough detail in the sketch to finish off the rest with his own creative imagination. He let out a thoughtful hum, placing the pencil between his teeth when the sudden clack of shoes on wood startled him from behind, causing him to jump and spit the pencil on the deck. "Barmy! Who is that?"

[Erika Bellefonte]

Sometimes, all Erika really needed was some time away from the bustling academy and give herself some room to breathe. Between being a fashion major and keeping up with her social life, she was exhausted. Naturally, it didn't help much that her family was constantly up in her face about, well, everything.

And as such, the young telekinetic found herself by the boathouse near the lake. The lake had always been a sort of refugee. A place for solitude and deep thought. Well, when it wasn't being used for raging parties and sex escapades. 

Not that Erika knew a whole lot about the latter, but that was a story for another time.

She saw the man sitting by the dock from a distance, and did her best not to disturb him. Which was the likely cause to her approach scaring him. Freezing in place, the brunette's eyes narrowed before dropping to the pencil. Another artist? "Sorry about that," she offered.

[Everett King]

Everett hurried to pick up his pencil, sliding it behind his ear as he turned to face the stranger. He vaguely recognized her face and was almost certainly he'd met her before somewhere. Unfortunately his memory wasn't the best, and most of his interactions were embarrassing so he tried to forget them.

"Oh no," he replied, shaking his head. "No harm done." He shot the young woman a wry smile then glanced across the water to the other side of the lake. The silhouette he had been drawing hadn't reappeared. Ever took a glance at his canvas then back at the girl. Even with such little detail he could see a resemblance; it appeared his mystery person was standing right in front of him. It was likely rude but his first thought was to ask her to stand still so he could finish filling in the details he could now see in her face and body.

He was perhaps too excited and grabbed the canvas to hold it up in front of the woman, still on his knees. "This is you," he declared, vehemently tapping the scene of a lake with a featureless figure walking along the shore. The page lowered slowly as a sheepish smile appeared. "So I guess I should be the one apologizing for drawing you without permission." Everett rose to his feet, tucking the pad under his arm. "If it's not rude to ask, what brings you down here? Usually it's pretty quiet during the day, I didn't think I'd be bothering anyone."

[Erika Bellefonte]

Once the man turned, Erika recognized him. Wasn't he the guy she'd met who was oh so passionate about sweets? Now, she couldn't be too sure, of course. For all she knew, he could simply resemble the guy she was thinking about. Thus, Erika was likely better off not mentioning it at all.

Dropping her gaze to the canvas with narrowed eyes, Erika stared at the human shaped blob against the surface. As he lowered it, her eyes rose, staring at him directly. "Good to know I have the figure of a blob." Her tone was teasing; she meant no ill will. In truth, she didn't know what else to say. What did one say when someone so easily admitted to having drawn you in secret? Of course, she knew that it wasn't done so intentionally. He likely would have drawn anyone. That anyone just happened to be her.

Shrugging at his question then, Erika pursed her lips. "Yeah, that's usually the reason anyone would come down here at this time." She offered him a smile, as if to keep him from thinking he was invading. In fact, if anyone was invading anyone's space, she had been the one invading his.

[Everett King]

At the girl's words Everett spun his pad and stared at the image. Her shape did look kind of blob-like. He huffed in frustration and sat back down, crossing his legs. There wasn't any way he would be comfortable leaving the piece the way it was. Now that the woman was right before him he had the perfect opportunity to study her in more detail. So long as he didn't mention that and make it creepy, he didn't see much of a problem. "Just needs a bit more detail is all," he explained, already reaching for his pencil. Ever let his gaze travel up and down her form with a smile. "As Shakira said, 'Hips don't lie'."

Everett began erasing the blob slowly, biting his lip in thought. With his free hand the man indicated the space beside him. "You're free to join me; so long as it's quiet you're looking for and not a quick tumble in a canoe," he added, raising an eyebrow. There was no harm in checking. Canoes weren't comfortable. "I'd actually like to finish this drawing now, so it'd help if my model stayed close by."

His head cocked to the side and Ever smiled bashfully. "So long as you don't mind of course. Don't worry, I think it would actually be impossible to draw you in an unflattering way." He met Erika's eyes, his own warm and sincere. "And if not impossible, a crime in the very least."

[Erika Bellefonte]

Arching one eyebrow, Erika smirked. Was he flirting with her? The thought was amusing if nothing else. Usually, the young telekinetic was used to being on the receiving end of attention, but mostly due to her last name than anything else. She was fairly certain this guy had no idea who she was.

"Okay," she said with a nod, accepting his offer. She moved forward, feeling slightly awkward, but quickly tossed the notion aside. There was nothing to feel awkward about, after all. The guy seemed nice and she was fairly certain he wasn't some kind of creepy rapist. "I can't promise I'll sit still, though." She had never been very good at sitting still for a long time without fidgeting. She had a feeling that was mostly because of the restless nature of her power.

"Charming and talented," she mused. "Considering how you're here alone, it makes me think there's something horribly wrong with you," she teased in return as she took a seat next to him.

[Everett King]

Silence fell, the gap filled by the gentle scratching of his pencil against paper. It was remarkably easier to have the girl in front of him, rather than having to guess her details from a distance. He hadn't been purely complimenting her either, it was remarkably pleasing to sketch out her high cheekbones and full lips. Whatever genes she had, they had certainly been a gift from the gods.

"I wouldn't expect you to. Not like I'm paying you to model for me." The statement gave him pause and Everett raised his golden eyes hesitantly to meet hers. "You truly came down here just to sit and be alone? I hope I'm not keeping you from anything. Honestly, if you'd rather have privacy just say the word." He'd almost demanded she'd stay, as if he had any kind of power over that. He'd been lucky she'd agreed and hadn't even stopped to consider how grateful he should be for the opportunity, and the company.

Ever tried not to appear too flustered by the compliment. It was one of those little compliments nice people gave, but there wasn't necessarily anything behind it but politeness. "You seem a good judge of character. If I start pulling out knives or excessively licking my lips, I'll trust you to run away." He cocked his head and smirked, letting his eyes linger on her face to absorb even more detail. "For the hills, mind you, not the academy. I'm rather good at sprinting, but cross country is beyond me." Not that he was any kind of psycho, he didn't think. Different perhaps, sometimes in a good way, sometime not so much. He was just a man who knew what he wanted in the world and was terrible at getting it.
A man who knew what he wanted.....That sounded familiar, and sudden he was hit with clarity.

Everett shot up straight. "Fuck! It's Erika, isn't it?!"

[Erika Bellefonte]

Trying her best to remain unmoving, Erika couldn't quite help sneaking a few glances down at the page. It wasn't often she found someone with the same interest in the arts as she had herself. In fact, she had to admit that the guy was really good too. "Wow," she breathed, pointing at the drawing. "You're really good." She flicked her gaze up. "You put us art students to shame."

"No, it's fine," she promised. In fact, she wasn't here to be alone as much as getting away from the hustle and bustle of the academy. With her last name, getting away from prying eyes wasn't always the easiest of things. Being around someone who clearly had no idea who she was, was quite the refreshing take on things. In fact, she couldn't remember feeling quite this comfortable in a very long time.

Grinning, the brunette snorted. "Don't worry," she mused. "I'm fairly sure I could take you down if it came to it." Well, her power would surely make it an uneven fight, considering how she didn't even need to be in his proximity to hold him off. Not that she thought it would come to that, of course. He struck her as a somewhat gentle soul. His next comment told her that the guy knew about mutants - then again, most of Kalispell's population did. Mutants were sort of hard to miss around here. "I'm sure you are," she teased.

The moment the guy shot up, Erika's eyes widened slightly, staring at him dumbfounded. "Uhm," she said, "yeah?". She wondered then if she had recognized him from somewhere. She could only hope that was the case, and that he didn't know who she was.

[Everett King]

It was ridiculous, but Ever found himself struggling not to blush at the compliment. A bashful smile made his eyes crinkle at the corners and he made sure that for the next few seconds, he was busily focused on the paper and not on Erika's face. "You're too kind," he breathed, not looking up. "I've been doing this for many years now." The use of 'us' caught his interest and Everett finally managed to school his features and glance up. "You're an artist?" He couldn't keep a thin layer of excitement out of his voice, keen to meet another individual passionate about the arts. And if it were this young woman who had already proven herself to be unnaturally kind to him, then that was even better.

He found himself letting go of the last thread of anxiety he had that he was keeping her from something important. He didn't think her the sort to lie just to make him feel better. It didn't bring him to wonder what it was she was seeking by the dock. Solitude seemed the most likely answer. Erika seemed so kind and graceful, it was doubtless she had a myriad of friends wanting attention. That was his guess anyway. While he could not claim to be in the same situation, he could understand wanting to get away to come up for air.

He arched an eyebrow at her confidence, not sure whether to confirm or deny the claim. Could she take him? Physically he wouldn't have said so, but he was acting under the assumption that she was a mutant, and that meant he had no idea what her abilities were. She could turn him into a fish for all he knew; though, he'd never heard of an ability like that. He put the pad down and thumbed his chin thoughtfully, leaving a line of smudged lead. "Cocky, aren't we?" He mused with a grin. Rather than being offended, he found her attitude endearing. Since he doubted it would ever come to a fight between them, there was no sense feeling threatened by her confidence. He wasn't that insecure. "I don't know, dove, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

He was beaming then. He knew he'd recognized her from somewhere! The wattage of his smile dimmed somewhat at the realization that she still didn't remember him, but that was a fair call. His life was much emptier than he assumed hers was, and they'd only met for a few minutes. He jutted a finger at himself. "Everett. We met once, a few months ago. It took me a while to remember, so I wont be surprised if it doesn't ring a bell." He tipped his head. Perhaps reminded Erika that he had been the creepy guy to hit on her in a cafe wasn't the best way to go about a friendship. Instead he held out his hand, the cautious smile once again on his face. "We could start over instead?"

[Erika Bellefonte]

"Yeah," she said, shrugging sheepishly. "I'm afraid my talent is being wasted on the unforgiving fashion world, though." Mostly because she didn't want to risk anything by becoming an actual artist. She had opted for the still risky, but much safer option instead. One that could actually ensure some form of income. She wasn't all that proud to admit to it, but she figured a fellow artist could at the least understand. She hoped.

The brown eyed telekinetic couldn't quite keep the smirk off of her face at his response. Offering him a nonchalant shrug, she pursed her lips. "I'm sure you do," she mused. "But so do I," she added with a wink. Well, if an extra pair of invisible arms counted, anyways. At least her power was useful for something.

Suddenly, Erika's eyes lit up with recognition. "Right!" she said, snapping her fingers. "You're the food snob from that cozy little place," she said, extremely amused. She looked at his hand hand before rising to her feet. Wiping her hand off on her skinny jeans, she reached out and took his to shake. "I'm all for new beginnings," she announced with a warm smile.

[Everett King]

Everett's brow furrowed at Erika's lack of excitement. She didn't seem incredibly passionate about the path she had chosen, which made him automatically wonder why she was pursuing it. "I'm sure the world of silk and absolute blood lust will be happy to have you," he finally replied, still trying to puzzle through the decision. "It's not an easy profession, even more so if your heart isn't in it." He wasn't intending to come off as prying, but Erika had seemed so excited to meet a fellow artist. Not that designing clothes wasn't a form of art, but the fact that she herself thought her skills were being wasted...Well, she didn't seem the type to brag unnecessarily.

Driven by sudden curiosity he flipped to a clean page of paper and offered it to Erika. "Draw for me?" He asked gently. His smile widened into a smirk at her teasing, shrugging in acceptance. "I suppose we'll just have to compare some time," he said with finality, returning the conspiratorial wink. It was refreshing to have someone to banter with, so long as he remembered to not let himself get carried away.

He laughed, relieved that she'd remembered him, even if it was as a food snob. "I wasn't that bad, was I?" The man chuckled and gently squeezed Erika's hand. "Everett King. Wannabe chef; expert food snob and amateur artist, at your service."

[Erika Bellefonte]

"Silk and absolute blood lust," she repeated, musingly. Sounded rather fitting to her. Though, at least it was a different kind of blood than what she would be shedding if she were to pursue a different kind of profession within art. Besides, she couldn't take another day of her mother telling her how much and in how many ways she was wasting her life. "Ah well," she shrugged; she hadn't intended for the conversation to turn dark and broody. "We can't all afford to do what we love the most," she finished with a plastered on smile.

Pausing, brown eyes dropped to the offered page. Hesitation colored her eyes for a moment before she reached her hand out and accepted. Brows furrowed for a moment before she nodded. "Alright." She couldn't remember the last time anyone had shown any interest in her passion. At least, not since she had been a child and her mother thought that her children being able to draw somehow meant she was doing her job at raising her children correctly.

With the paper now tugged against her chest with one hand and her other being squeezed, the young telekinetic couldn't quite force away the tiniest hint of crimson that reached her cheeks. "Nah, nah, nothing that surpassed a couple of rolling eyes at any rate." Once again, the brunette found herself somewhat dumbfounded at how easy going the conversation was. Perhaps, it was the lack of constrictive eyes prying. "Erika Bellefon-" oh crap, "eee-student, in college and slowly suffocating under the pressure." That didn't sound too morbid, did it?

[Everett King]

It was a sad fact of life that not everyone could pursue the things they loved in life. For Everett he was one of the lucky ones, he could cook all day then spend his free time creating artwork. But the fact that Erika was choosing something different for herself wasn't his business and certainly wasn't something he was permitted to pry into, despite the somewhat modeled smile stuck on her face. "What's the dream then?" He folded his arms. "If realistically, it was a possibility, what do you think you'd do with your life?"

It was surprising to realize that he was actually excited to see what Erika was going to draw. More then that, the fact that she had agreed to his selfish request had sent a flush of warmth through his chest. "Just rolling eyes? Well, that's certainly not anything new to me." It seemed to be the standard of most his conversations that he'd either make his companion hideously uncomfortable, or say something completely inappropriate. What surprised him most was that despite this, Erika was still standing around allowing him to hold her hand. He released it with a start and shoved his own into the pocket of his jeans, worried he'd let the contact go on for too long.

He quirked an eyebrow curiously at the strange introduction. He had to strictly remind himself again that it wasn't his business to pry into someone's personal life without an invitation. "Erika Bellefonee?" He repeated with a chuckle. He felt that name seemed strangely familiar but wasn't going to mention it after that strange cover-up. "Well, don't forget to come up for air. It's important to take some time for yourself." He inclined his head towards the pad against her chest. "Speaking of which, you were going to draw something." He took the pencil from behind his ear and offered it to her.

[Erika Bellefonte]

Pausing, the brunette furrowed her brows. In truth, she hadn't really considered what her dream job was. Or what she wanted to do with her future. She had always simply gone with the rules of her mother, and then, eventually finding a middle ground, which happened to be fashion design. It wasn't something she loved, sure, but at least it involved drawing. "I... Don't know," she replied then, a sheepish smile forming on her lips. "I don't think I've ever really considered it."

She felt embarrassed for acting like such a spaz. It wasn't that she minded telling him her last name, it was more so the implications that followed. People often treated her differently once they knew her full name. Either because they wanted something from her, or because they didn't want to get mixed into any trouble. Offering him a rueful, but apologetic smile, Erika huffed. "Err, I meant, Bellefonte student, college," she added, waving it off. "yeah," she breathed. She couldn't agree more with him. Sometimes, being back at the academy was suffocating. Not a conversation topic she wanted to burden him with, of course.

Thankfully, the attention shifted to the blank piece of paper she was still holding. "Oh, right," she replied, blinking slightly as she accepted the pen. She looked around for a moment before taking a seat back down on the dock. She let the pencil run across the white paper surface, eyes fixated on the distance. "I used to draw this scenery a lot as a kid," she said as she drew the gentle shapes of the mountains dipping down into a sea of green.

[Everett King]

Everett nodded at Erika's confession, not entirely surprised. It would have been surprising if she did know exactly what she wanted to do with her life. "There's nothing wrong with that," he said with a shrug. "The only reason I knew what I wanted to do out of college was because I set my house on fire." He tilted his head, a nostalgic smile brushing across his face. "I don't recommend it."

Erika explained away her bumbling rather smoothly, and he found himself wanting to believe it, if only because it was easier. But the fumble had seemed so far out of the character he'd already established for her that he found himself mulling over it. Perhaps she had something to hide, he was a complete stranger after all, and here he was asking personal questions and expecting answers. He felt suitably chagrined by her hesitation and shifted awkwardly. "Assumed as much," he said with a slight cough. He fought to find something else to talk about. "They still serving good food around there? Tasted like heaven when I was a student." Talk about food. Food saved everything. And he was curious to hear how Bo was doing, the two had only met briefly but he had seemed an interesting chef.

Ever couldn't help himself and leaned in closer and Erika began to draw. "Yeah?" He asked gently, not wanting to break whatever reverie she was having. She definitely had skill, he realized she the pencil continued to brush against the paper. He thought it was a waste to use that kind of talent on the fashion industry, but it was also none of his business. Ever looked from the paper to Erika. "Beautiful," he breathed with a soft smile. His eyes crinkled with thought as she continued to construct the scene. "You came here as a kid?"