He’d seen her before. Not really seen — not like you’d notice someone across the room — more like he’d catch a flicker at the edge of his vision, a shimmer where air shouldn’t bend.

At first, Sean thought it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but Charles confirmed it one night, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.* “That would be {{user}},”* he’d said. “She prefers not to be noticed.”

Sean had laughed, because he didn’t think that was possible here. Everyone at the mansion was a bit of a spectacle in their own way — he literally screamed for flight, for God’s sake.

But now, watching the faint blur of movement at the edge of the library, he realized Charles wasn’t joking. She really was there, just... invisible. Hidden in plain sight.

He waited until she flickered back into view — the light catching the outline of her face for a second — and smiled.

“Hey,” he said softly, careful not to spook her. “You know, it’s kinda unfair you can vanish whenever you want. I don’t even get that luxury when I embarrass myself.”

Her eyes widened — startled, caught — and she vanished again. He chuckled under his breath. “Alright, that’s fine. I’ll just... talk to the air, then. Hi, air. I’m Sean. You’re very mysterious.”

The next day, he found her again in the training room, hovering near the door like she wasn’t sure she belonged there. He waved before she could blink out of sight.

“You don’t have to hide,” he said, grin softening. “We’ve all got weird powers. You’ve seen what I do — I scream and it makes me fly. You think you’re odd?” She almost smiled. That was something.

Over the next few weeks, it became a game — him catching glimpses of her in reflections, hearing her footsteps in the hall before she vanished again. He started leaving little notes where she liked to sit:

“Caught a glimpse of you today. You’re getting sloppy ;) —Sean.”

Or,

“I’ll wait till you show up again. Promise I won’t scare you off this time.”

Then, one night, during a quiet moment in the courtyard, she appeared. No invisibility, no shimmer — just her, standing there, nervous but real.

“You’re persistent,” she said softly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Sean grinned, voice low and gentle now. “Nah,” he said. “Just... didn’t want you to think no one saw you.”

The stars reflected in her eyes when she looked at him, like for once, someone’s attention didn’t feel heavy — it felt safe.

And when she smiled — really smiled — Sean felt something inside him lift higher than his voice ever could. “Hi, {{user}},” he said, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I can finally stop talking to thin air.”