"The inability to see small movements leads to death where I come from." That was what she had said. Oh how she was right. It had been a while since he had met someone worth talking to. He was always alone, because of his talents that ended up being a curse. His gift, his genius to know how someone did something and almost instantaneously able to repeat it was his downfall. "Yes, that is true," Fey said, he had straightened. "But while you may indeed see the small details that may save you from life, in other situations, you may miss the bigger design, and end die a death worse than having to die because you missed a small movement."
He could tell that she was coming to the conclusion that he a know-it-all, someone who thought they could do everything perfectly. How could he know that? Because he was a freak of nature was why. But he was not able to do everything perfectly, and while he wished he could, and others may believe that he was, he knew truly, that perfection was impossible, and it pained him so to not be able to do somethings to help others. For a moment pain flashed across his eyes. But just for a moment, and it was gone.
"Now, isn't that a problem,"he heard her say. "I prefer looking like a scary girl." He knew why she said so. Scary looking was sometimes better then pretty looking. It kept away unwanted attention. But it also ended up attracting the attention of those that like strong, and of course, scary women. And in this time and age, that wasn't that uncommon. "Is it truly impossible for you to admit that you are pretty and at the same time, scary?"
She had closed her eyes now. She had come up with what she had thought every person thought they could do. Heal her father. Yet he had not said that, he had not even acted arrogant when he read her to find this out. He did not speak for a while. She had brushed past him and said in her mind about bad impressions. Fey rolled his eyes as she acted so cold. He had once been like that. He was still for the moments that he brushed passed him.
He was the reason that he DID NOT care what she thought. Feyadus was going to help her, for her own sake. So that she did not become what he had almost become. He snapped his fingers, and it was a sound far louder than a snap could have made and all of a sudden the crowd vanished, and they were at the city limits. "This is the road is it not?" He said to her, who still had her back to him. His voice was cold now. "I never said that I COULD heal you father, nor am I one to go about healing random people because I feel like it." He scoffed. "If you believe that I am such a . . . whatever you think I might be, or whoever you might believe me to be or be like, you cannot know that!"
Fey's eyes were sad. Yet his face remained as hard as stone. His voice grew in volume as he spoke. "I am here, not because I believed that you were a pretty girl, or someone in need, I am here because I wanted to be here with you, because I sensed pain rolling off you, because I fail to see why you should stay all alone when that would only make the pain worse." It was no use, she was too cold, her normal self was just too . . . matter-of-fact to care about what he was saying. He reached out and touched Kei's shoulder, lightly, trying hard not to disturb her. "I am here because you called me." And it was true. Her pain had called to him, and while she may not have wanted him, he would stay.