She hadn't realized how tall he was until he stood. Over six feet, with a thin, athletic build. As he opened the door, he glanced at her. His gorgeous green eyes sparkled from the skylight above. She held her breath until he turned away. Maeve was supposed to help him, but her body wouldn't cooperate; her throat dry and her chest still burned. Her fingers touched her chest where she remembered he'd been burned, and wondered why someone had done that to him.
That'd been the second soul touch she encountered today. Over time, she'd narrowed down her interactions with other people to prevent it, and twice in one day exhausted her. With another shaky breath, she pulled her fingers through her hair. Both of the men's souls she'd seen into were violent, tormented and endured horror that unnerved her. Because of her ability, she'd seen and felt many disturbing things in her life. Although she hadn't personally experienced the moments, she didn't need to. The seconds spent in each one felt authentic. She had nightmares from memories that she'd lived with another person. Quite a bit of nightmare material from the two men today; talk about inner demons. They'd imagined their past filled with monsters.
Maeve had an ability, not a gift, as others might've called it. She'd never considered it a gift. Unfortunately, people were primarily made up of their traumas, not their peaceful or happy memories. All she'd ever experienced was the worst of humanity. Because she'd shared his soul, she was supposed to connect with him. No official rules, except those she'd put on herself years ago when she finally accepted her ability and decided she'd try to help people. Part of the reason she avoided people was because it was complicated to help people and not let them know the truth.
She rubbed her temples. A major headache loomed after happening twice in one day. With closed eyes, she tried to picture the sea with a long, endless beach to calm her nerves. Most of the time it worked, but she couldn't concentrate. No clue why she had her ability or what the bigger picture was. Maeve fumbled from one encounter to another.
It would've been great to find another person who shared something close to her ability. Maybe then she'd understand the point of it. However, all she'd found were liars who weren't gifted at all or people who had a preternatural talent, but it wasn't in the same area as hers. Maybe they were more skilled and didn't always have to relive the worst moments of a person's life. She'd tried to branch out and learn something related to her ability, but nothing ever took. She wasn't psychic. No future predictions, no finding children who were lost or chatting with ghosts.
Difficult to keep the appearance of normal, she'd sought people that'd understand her ability, but it'd become almost impossible over the years. It didn't help that she had zero control over her power, no idea when it'd happen or who'd entangle with. She sighed and closed the programs, needed a new laptop, so she didn't keep coming to the library. No focus. She left to get ready for her shift at the behavioral center.