I had planned to rest today. After dropping Selene off at her clinic around four in the morning, I finally collapsed into bed and didn't wake up until three in the afternoon. My stomach made it clear I'd skipped two meals, so I cooked something quick, ate, and then wandered into my room.
For no real reason, I stood in front of the mirror and started testing my shapeshifting. One face after another, I swapped features until I stopped on someone I hadn't thought about in years—my old English teacher. She had long brown hair, bright green eyes, and a smile that used to make my heart race. I'd had a crush on her once, but she'd died in a car accident. I even tried shaping my voice to sound like hers, or at least how I remembered it. The nostalgia hit me harder than expected.
That's when I heard clapping.
I turned to find Selene sitting casually on my open window frame—on the second floor.
"You know," I said, deadpan, "normal people use the front door."
She laughed. "I did knock. You were too busy playing dress-up to notice."
I frowned. "Eavesdropping much?"
"Observation," she corrected with a grin, then tilted her head. "So… who is she?"
I hesitated but told her the truth—who my teacher had been, how I remembered her, and why I was wearing her face now. Selene listened quietly, then smirked.
"Why not keep the face on and come with me to the mall? It's already eight. We can grab dinner and maybe shop a little."
I blinked at her. "That's a bold idea."
"It'll be fun," she said, and before I could overthink it, I found myself agreeing.
I suggested we walk—it was only an hour on foot—but Selene flatly refused. "I already walked here. I'm not walking another sixty minutes just so you can test your stamina."
So, we drove.
At the mall, we ate fast food first, then wandered around window-shopping. Selene had this way of making me cave; she convinced me to buy a couple of shirts and jeans to match my current look. I bought a denim jacket on my own, though—I couldn't deny I liked how I looked in it. For a strange moment, it felt like I wasn't myself but someone freer, someone lighter.
On the drive back to her clinic, we spotted smoke. A house was on fire. A small crowd had gathered, shouting, panicking. I pulled over.
"They said there's a baby inside!" someone shouted. "Firefighters are five minutes out!"
The mother was screaming, trying to rush into the flames while others held her back. My body moved before I could think. I kicked the door in, ran upstairs through the smoke, and found the baby in a crib. Wrapping the child in a blanket, I shielded it with my body as best I could and carried it out.
By the time I placed the baby into its mother's arms, the crowd was in tears, phones raised, recording everything. I didn't care. This wasn't even my real face.
When I slipped back to the car, Selene was waiting. My cuts and burns had already knitted shut, not a mark left. Nobody noticed.
She gave me a look, half teasing, half impressed. "You know… most people go to the mall to buy shoes, not to run into burning buildings."
I smirked. "It wasn't exactly on the itinerary."
She nudged my arm. "Still, you looked good doing it. Like some undercover superhero. Shame it's not even your real face."
"Exactly why I didn't think twice," I muttered, starting the car.
Selene leaned back, smirk tugging at her lips. "Careful, Daniel. Keep this up and I might start calling you Captain Denim."
I groaned. "Don't you dare."
Her laughter filled the car as we drove off, leaving the chaos and flashing lights behind us.