Dillon Abraham
Dill wasn't paying much attention to the old lady's presentation. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his brother, and he was sure that he was starting to freak the younger boy out by now. He just couldn't believe that he was here, or that he had the same abilities. It was all too much to handle in one day, and it wasn't even noon yet. He felt like he needed to sleep for three years, and even then he thought he would still not be ready and rested enough to handle what was going on right now.
Sometime in between his mental musings, the old lady left the room, leaving them alone. The quiet hit Dillon like a ton of bricks. He didn't like quiet spaces, the lack of noise made him nervous and anxious. He was just rising to leave, his hand on Derek's should, signaling him to follow, when someone screamed in pain.
His head whipped around to the source of the noise and he saw one of the girl's arms engulfed in fire and a boy examining his burned hand. Dillon quickly walked over and placed both his hands on the girl's shoulders. He didn't feel pain.
"Just relax. Try counting to ten, that's what I used do when I couldn't control it."
The girl looked up at him panicked.
"Close your eyes," he insisted, and she did. Her mouth moved silently, forming whispers of words - numbers - and soon the flames extinguished. Dillon smirked and gave her a pat on the back.
"Sometimes it's hard, but I haven't had any outbursts like that since I was young. Try to keep yourself under control, rookie."
He started again for the door and set off to find his room and sleep. The food could wait and he'd catch up with his brother later, but for now he needed a nice long nap.
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