by Hydrargentium

“What are we doing here again?”

Psyche’s wings fluttered behind her as she leaned over to look at the plaza below.

“Because Firecracker is supposed to be attacking the Senator after he leaves the conference.”

Call-out shook his head. “That’s why you’re here. But why am I here. Why are we here?”

Psyche looked back at Call-out, drawing her wings together to keep them from blocking the view. The teleporter was squatting against an AC unit, tossing pebbles over the side of the roof, and then calling them back to his hand just before they dropped past the edge. He always did stuff like that when he was feeling put-upon.

Call-out looked back at her. He couldn’t help thinking how cute she looked with a question clearly written in her knit brows, in the way she pulled one corner of her mouth down. He’d always liked that about her.

“Can we… talk about this later?”

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