June mulled over his words and tried to fit them in ways that would make sense.

"You being red... trained you to like attention?" She could see that in a way. Like the people who clung to their tiny bit of celebrity. The ones who chose to make one thing their 'brand.' The socialite who was known for tiny fringe or the musician that had the big gold chain and clock...

For someone who was owning up to being what he liked and liking how that put him front and center, he sure didn't look happy.

"And if no one noticed you, you wouldn't be you?" How did the saying go? Something about a tree falling in the woods...

June's problem was the opposite one. No one ever noticed her unless she made trouble. So, as a general rule, she didn't make trouble. "You can get away with a lot more, you know, outside of the spotlight." A creeping smile spoke volumes about what June had got away with.

Khalil sighed, humming to himself. Talk about heavy subject matter! His honey-gold eyes slid towards June, nodding his head. Yes, Khalil was of the mindset that he’d learned to like attention. He wouldn’t be like this if he wasn’t a scarlet eyesore. The devil gave a self-deprecating smile.

“If no one noticed me, I could be anyone I wanted to,” Khalil purred, “A not-as-devilishly-handsome nobody.”

That was a sad attempt at a joke, but at least Khalil was smiling.

>> "You can get away with a lot more, you know, outside of the spotlight."

“Madame,” Khalil gasped, feigning surprise as he sat-up, “Do you mean to suggest that I am in the company of a troublemaker?”

His mock surprise had her giggling in earnest. "I am a good girl, sank you very much!" She managed to sound both innocent and offended at the thought despite her devilish expression. "It is the good girls you 'ave to look out for."

Did she dare? June raised her hand between them as if asking for a kiss against her knuckles. They were too far apart for that, but she let her power off its leash and it hungrily lapped at Khalil.

Her skin turned pink, sunburnt, tomato, and finally the same smooth, rich poppy hue of his. The racerback of her activewear shirt allowed for wings, though they sprouted more than a little painfully and didn't care to go through the holes that would have been convenient, but instead got caught in the straps. Her eyes lightened to match his, the yellow of a cat's eyes.

June managed to remain mostly haughty through the transformation, laying on her belly in the sand with one hand extended between them.

Khalil cast a soft smile June’s way as she protested that she was, indeed, a good girl. She seemed like a good person. Like someone from an entirely different sphere than he was from. It was nice to pretend, though. So very nice to pretend.

Another teasing jab was at the tip of Khalil’s tongue when June extended her hand. He thought, perhaps she wanted him to kiss her knuckles, to prove her propriety. He was tempted to, sorely, but then something began to happen, starting at her fingertips and transitioning up her arm. Her skin darkened to an identical scarlet red, her eyes shifted, and wings blossomed from her back like roses. The boy couldn’t help himself. He gaped, and his eyes flared in astonishment (beyond their usual, lazy half-lidded-ness). Absolutely and utterly speechless.

That was a true accomplishment—stunning the motor-mouth devil into silence. His face felt hot.

“Red suits you,” he finally breathed, unable to remove his eyes from her, “Are you a shapeshifter?”

If he’d thought she was beautiful before, he was definitely interested now.

June was not in the habit of revealing herself so dramatically —or at all— but the look on her new acquaintance's face made her delighted from the tips of her toes to the tops of her new wings. She stretched and unfurled the wings. Visible mutations were another thing she often avoided.

Perhaps attention wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"In a manner of speaking." She tried to affect the same purring tone he had. It felt right.

Unfortunately, the sand did not feel right. She could only stand rolling around in it for so long. June rolled herself to a seated position in order to check on her shoes. They were still terribly soaked, but at least they were fire-warmed. She inspected the effect that this colorful skin had on her toenail polish. They garishly clashed, not that it'd matter for long.

"Would you like to go steal a spotlight, monsieur Khalil? I've unexpectedly found myself free zis evening."

>> "In a manner of speaking."

Khalil was absolutely entranced, his eyes drinking in her appearance… the red freckling of her shoulders, the wings… she was like him, except the features were demure and flattering. What an interesting power to have.

>> "Would you like to go steal a spotlight, monsieur Khalil? I've unexpectedly found myself free zis evening."

Khalil brightened, a smile cracking across his lips, “Miss June, there would be no greater pleasure.”

He roused himself from the cool sand, brushing off his pants. He extended a hand to the young woman in order to help her to her feet.

“What do you have in-mind?”

Khalil, personally, had visions of dalliances dancing in his head, but he would never mention this to a newfound friend. The fire still smouldered in the sand, and would be snuffed out at June's pronouncement.

"I want to steal somesing." June asserted as she took the devil's hand. Was she normally a thief? No. But she was more than willing to start here,
tonight, and right now.

"I wanna steal somesing that makes a statement." And she had wings now! It was good that Mr. Khalil was helping her stand because the balance of standing with wings was quite different. She took her time in stretching and finding that new balance and running her hands along her arms in order to marvel at her own skin, red and sanguine and beautiful in the way that it reflected back the firelight.

"New clothes first. A big **** you to my boss. I quit. Then..." June narrowed assessing eyes at her counterpart. "Then I think it's your turn to make some demands." Surely there was more to Mr. Red Skin and temptation than a casual need to turn little French girls astray.

Khalil's eyes widened at the declaration and the hand in his own. She wanted to steal something... to make a statement. Khalil watched her, his new fellow demon, with unreadable eyes. A hesitant smile spread over his features.

"I thought you said you were a good girl," he chastised, giving June an aimless twirl. When they were facing one another once again, he pursed his lips ponderously. He wasn't a thief. He was an arsonist. Both required a certain degree of stealthiness, but one was usually done in the dead of night-- while the other was committed in garish fluorescent lights. His eyes wandered over June... his mind had been wandering towards drinks and good company, but--

His smile grew more fiendish, and he planted a kiss upon June's knuckles, "But, if the lady commands it... so it shall be!"

"...do you think we're done with the fire?" he asked June, collecting the portable speakers and toeing at the sand. Should she agree that they were done with it, he could kick sand over the smouldering timber, plunging their cozy spot of beach into the chill of almost-set sun.

"What sort of demands do you have in mind, O Captain?" he purred, surveying her with round amber eyes.

She felt his slender fingers wrap around her hand and saw no judgement in his eyes or face when she blurted out her intentions like a child. He may have teased her, but nothing in his demeanor changed. He didn't look at her like she was less. Somehow, he looked at her like something more.

"Don't you remember zhe one rule zhat qualifies a girl as good?" She could feel a cavalier attitude taking hold and she embraced it with fervor. There was so much freedom to be had while unencumbered by responsibilities.

"Don't. Get. Caught."

His smile grew. She echoed that smile with ferocity, almost as much teeth as grin when he planted a chaste kiss upon her knuckles.

> "But, if the lady commands it... so it shall be!"

She could tell this would be fun. He didn't appear to have a serious bone in his body at the moment. The fire and mischief danced in his eyes, even after he'd let her go to pack up.

"I sink we're quite done here." And as tempting as it was to leave her soggy shoes for some happy puppy to demolish tomorrow, she nabbed them and her trash up. June liked the Earth much more than she liked the idea of leaving her shoes behind. Though, truth be told, if she saw someone who deserved to be pegged in the face with a shoe, she wouldn't hesitate.

"Can we fly?" That was 2 parts hope, 1 part logistics. June flared her wings behind her to try to get a better feel for they worked. "I might be your mirror, but it doesn't come withs a manual."

Khalil toed sand over the small bonfire, squelching-out the flames. Smoke meagerly swam skyward, the final cough of surrender. Now in the wee light of the hastily-setting sun, the two dimly-lit figures stood. Khalil extended his free hand, crafting a ball of fire in his palm, bringing some light back for them to see by.

>> "Can we fly? I might be your mirror, but it doesn't come withs a manual."

“I can fly,” Khalil remarked, his tone genuine as he circled behind June, his brows stitched, “I don’t know if you can…”

Her wings looked big enough, but… whether or not the appropriate musculature was there was open to debate.

“If you open your wings,” Khalil explained, fanning his own wings as he spoke, “You will notice that they are like a bat’s, yes? And bat wings are very much like a person’s arm and hand, just… deformed.”

He’d never taught someone how to fly before, so he was trying to explain the best he could.

“What you’ll want to do is bend your knees, and then jump with all of your might,” he continued, “As you do this, you’ll beat your wings once, to get off the ground… if you can. Like this…”

Khalil bent at his knees and, like a coiled spring, launched off of the ground, beating his wings once. The force carried him about ten feet into the air, but he did not continue sailing upwards. Gravity carried him back down, his feet making contact with the sand and sending a wave around his feet.

"It's like... stretching your arms out wide, and then snapping them downwards. Like... swimming?"

He wasn't a very accomplished swimmer (that is to say, he didn't swim at all), so Khalil was mostly just looking for a metaphor rather than speaking from experience.

“If not…” Khalil offered, “You look small enough. I could easily carry you.”

> “I can fly. I don’t know if you can…”

"I can do anysing you can." She insisted, the wings insisted too with a flap that sent loose sand skittering free over the little bit of beach. What it did not do, was give her any lift. She had the angle and the movement all wrong. If she had the time and privacy to experiement on her own, she was sure she could handle it, but she avoided collecting physical mutations on purpose. She usually didn't out herself as a mutant. It was to her advantage to keep her powers secret.

Khalil of the exotic eyes and pleasant accent took pity on her stubborn nature. He explained and demonstrated. The explanation only went to far, but the combination of the pair made for a replicable process.

"Not deformed. Elongated. It iz just zere nature." She frowned at him. A banana was not deformed because it did not look like an apple.

> “You look small enough. I could easily carry you.”

"I am not your damsel." This time when she flared and flapped her bat-like wings, she did so as Khalil had shown her. One or two hard and powerful flaps and she found the right way to cup the wing for lift. By the fourth flap she had enough lift to almost lift up off her toes, certainly her heels had gone up off the ground. If she was being truthful, it was tiresome. The discomfort was offset by the exhilaration of trying something new. She grinned, incredibly proud of her progress as she let herself fall back to her feet.

"Perhaps if you fall from the sky, I will carry you."

With that, June bent low at the knee and jumped as high as she possibly could. Having her arms full of tennis shoes and folded close to her chest made the experience of wings easier. She simply pretended that the wings were arms and ignored the fact that her arms were also arms.

A few powerful flaps and June climbed into the air. She was... was she? Yes! She was almost certain this counted as flying.

The rebuff earned a musical laugh from the scarlet-skinned man, and he held his hands up in surrender. Alright, alright. She wasn’t his damsel. Fair enough. He watched as June doggedly attempted to fly, offering gentle pointers and encouragements here-and-there. Color him impressed—Khalil couldn’t count the times he’d tried (and failed) at taking flight as a kid. He had distinct memories of running down his grandparent’s street, flapping his wings and leaping without avail—often falling face-first before achieving any sort of lift.

The offer was returned, for June to carry Khalil instead. A boyish smile touched his face, and Khalil leapt into the air after her, his wings expertly beating skyward. She hovered, eyes closed, and Khalil called out to her.

“Yes, good! Keep beating,” Khalil cheered, “It’s like swimming, you won’t float if you don’t tread the air.”

He felt a parental sort of pride for his pupil. And, similarly, a respect and a dim attraction. There was something so appealing about girl’s who didn’t fall over themselves for a fine young guy such as himself.

“Is that a promise?” Khalil countered, “I’m heavier than I look, madame.”

His cheering only egged her on and his pointers were timely. She was a fledgling compared to how he managed his wings, but she was just stubborn and prideful enough to follow Khalil into a climb. They had to go up to go anywhere, there was just too much down low to trip them up, aerially speaking.

Most of all, it was exhausting. The kind of exhausting that built character and muscles, neither of which June felt she had when she started the evening.

"I could not carry you, but I would fall trying." She admitted to her pride at least, as they crested the tops of buildings and June found a whole new perspective for the city. One level removed and above the struggle, it was almost like a photo shoot where all the pieces came together to form a strangely cohesive whole. June supposed it was all about the viewpoint.

"It's almost pretty down there." Emphasis on almost. There was plenty, still, to find disgusting.

"The green glass building, a few blocks." June pointed the direction. "If you'd like to help me end my career in fashion, it's just that way. Fourth floor from the top."

The red-skinned man was enchanted. He flew just behind his newfound companion, primarily to make sure she didn't suddently topple out of the sky. His younger "still learning to fly" days were filled with bumps and bruises, and even a broken arm. He'd begun by jumping off the roof his suburban house, then decided that it wasn't a matter of "too young to fly" but "too low of a launching point". He next jumped off of the two-story building of his school... and miraculously only broke his arm.

June seemed to be doing pretty well, though.

He also followed her because it was absolutely fascinating to watch someone else fly.

>> "It's almost pretty down there."

"Almost," Khalil agreed airily.

He followed his friend's gesture towards the modern-looking building, the surface of which was adorned by glass-curtainwalling. It was a glamorous building.

"You're stealing from the place you work?" Khalil clarified, tone unreadable. And here he'd thought she was just going to shoplift. Huh. He was still following her, still intrigued. This was nothing according to the blotches on his own record.

Pointing turned out to be a mistake in that it reminded June that she had hands. Hands and wings and the wings were not the hands and she'd had her hands full, but now she was trying not to drop her shoes and forgetting to flap because she had hands and wings and she was utterly unused to having both.

All it took was a sharp drop in altitude to remind June that she had both and then her full concentration was back to climbing. She was going to sleep like a rock tonight, she was sure. "Climbing in the air with wings is like running up far too many flights of stairs in a handstand." Oh dear. There she went remembering that she had hands again. June flailed her legs stubbornly as if cycling in the air somehow helped. Flying looked so graceful, but June was feeling anything but. Now that they had an exact heading and a clear goal in sight, that was all June needed to continue the struggle.

> "You're stealing from the place you work?"

"I'm quitting. With style." She loved it so much that it was making her make a fool of herself. That was how June knew that it had to go. "I don't want to care about anything so much. It has to go." She leaned forward and found gliding to be much more tolerable than the climb.