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That isn't the biggest problem now, okay?!

Although there was at least two meters of distance between herself and the man that called himself Mischa, Abigael felt as though he was invading her personal space. Maybe it was the fact that he was a stranger in her house or maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to see right through what she was thinking, whatever the reason she certainly didn't feel comfortable. Embarrassed at her reaction she decided to pretend as if nothing was wrong with a strange man confessing to watching her sleep and slowly made her way around the kitchen table to the percolator.

'Coffee?' she managed to ask, mentally giving her body a pep-talk to slow her nervous breathing and not rush her movements least she pour boiling water on herself.

'Yes, thank you.'

There was a strange silence as she began to make the coffee, she had so many questions and yet didn't seem to be able to ask them, she could barely even muster up the courage to turn around and look him in the eye. She could feel his eyes on her whenever her back was turned but when she glanced at him from the corner of her eye he was always looking elsewhere.

She scooped two teaspoons of rich brown coffee grinds from her plastic grinds tin into the percolator then grabbed the kettle, which had started to steam profusely, and poured the water over the top. The grinds mixed with the water to create a black-brown solution that slowly deepened from a nut colour to a dark earthy mix. She pushed down slowly on the sieve to separate the coffee from the grinds and smiled in pleasure at the rich smell now permeating the air.

Going through the motions of making her coffee was relaxing and normal and helped to sooth the anxiety she was feeling to a certain degree. Placing the percolated coffee, two mugs and a small bottle of milk on the table, she felt more ready to ask those questions brewing inside of her though still at a loss of where to begin.

Hesitating, she began pouring out the coffee, buying time to sort her thoughts out into a reasonable order. Mischa just sat and waited through the whole process, staring at her. His hands were clasped together in front of him with his thumbs tapping each other and occasionally he would open his mouth and take a breath as if to speak but then he would close it again without saying a word.

Having stalled for as long as she could Abigael directly placed a mug with steaming coffee in front of Mischa and sipped on her own to test the flavour. A hot, bitter flavour washed through her mouth and ran slowly down her asophogos, warming her body as it flowed and making her feel that bit more alert. She wished she could close her eyes and enjoy the flavour more thoroughly but unfortunately there was someone else watching her, and it was too embarrassing to do so. That realisation started to frustrate her and a trace of annoyance glimmered in her eyes as she stared back at the man sitting across from her.

It is uncertain how long the two sat there like that, staring at each other over the rims if their coffee mugs. Eventually a slight pink tinge started to surface on Mischa's cheeks and he had no choice but to break the silence.

'Cough, cough. I haven't thanked you properly for taking care of me. You didn't have to hide me, you didn't even have to help me at all really so, um.. thank you.'

'What "didn't have to help"?' Abigael protested, her eyes narrowing slightly, 'Would I have been able to sleep at night knowing that someone had been on the verge of death and I hadn't helped them?'

'Ah, well when you put it like that...' Mischa rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment and mumbled an apology, quickly taking a sip from his coffee to avoid saying anything else.

But Abigael was nowhere near satisfied with just that. A tinge of suspicion lacing her words, she asked 'Just what happened to you that you ended up in my apartment in such a state?'

For a brief moment, so quick she thought it might have been her imagination, Mischa's bright blue eyes became dark and brooding. A trace of anger flashing briefly before suddenly disappearing. 'Well I, I thought you had seen it. That I had been hit by lightning that is. It came out of nowhere and before I knew it I had crashed through your window.'

'Yeah, and scared me half to death, not to mention making a complete mess of my bedroom.' She countered, not at all satisfied with the answer. Of course he had been injured, that wasn't the problem now right? What had he been doing on her window ledge in the first place?

Watching as he apologised and reached to rub at his hair again she opened her mouth to tell him so when an arc of white electricity as long as her arm jumped without any warning from Mischa's head to a teaspoon lying on the table next to his coffee mug, leaving a singed black mark on the table.

Both of them froze, staring at the offending spot.

After a few seconds Abigael looked up to see Mischa looking back at her, on his face was an incomprehensible expression but she could tell he was equally as shocked as she was.

Very slowly, he started to move his hand away from his hair, some stray static electric sparks zipped back and forth between his fingers as he lowered his hand with the utmost caution. He held his hand out in between them. His skin was still pale from his recent injuries and contrasted strongly with the sparks that were flashing constantly over his fingers and above his open palm, causing Abigael to catch her breath at the magical sight.

The sparks slowly died down and after a minute or two of waiting to see what would happen, nothing did. Abigael's own confusion was reflected back to her in the face of Mischa and she was afraid to break the silence as she whispered 'What did you do?'

'I didn't do anything!' he whispered back, slightly defensive, before realising that he should take some of the blame, even if he didn't know what he had done to cause it

'Do you think your table is okay?' He asked timidly, silently tallying up the growing debt he owed this girl.

Abigael was stunned and couldn't speak for a moment as she processed his complete lack of situational awareness.

'That isn't the biggest problem now, okay?!'

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