[ WP ] You are secretly a super hero working a desk job . You are terrible at suppressing your powers in the office .

*There she was again, standing at the photocopier. There she was, bending over, her perfect round arse filling out the tight, almost-too-short skirt perfectly. There she was, looking up and frowning and sniffing the air and looking at me and* Shit. 
 
 Shit. Now *I* could smell something. Burning. Burning plastic. 
 
 I glanced down, and grimaced, raising my hand from the now-ruined mouse on the desk, the defunct plastic melted perfectly into an indentation of my hand. 
 
 I glanced back up, and there she was, stalking towards me, her face a mixture of disgust, suspicion, worry, and anger- and somehow she still looked utterly pert and bouncy and perfectly spherical. 
 
 I glanced further up, and saw the same expression washed across her utterly gorgeous face, her perfectly plump lips pursed in a moue of annoyance, her gorgeous brow creased in frustration, her cute little button nose crinkled in disgust. 
 
 `` Kel?'' 
 
 I blinked, suddenly aware she was speaking to me. 
 
 `` Kelvin, are you alright?'' 
 
 `` Huh? ``, I blinked back at her, suddenly aware there was a tiny tiny column of smoke rising from somewhere near my left thigh. 
 
 `` Your mouse. I thought I could smell burning, and... your mouse. And your, um. Your trousers, Kel. They're... burning?'' 
 
 `` Oh. Yeah. Uh.'' I swallowed nervously, and tasted my saliva boiling in my throat. *Fuck*. 
 `` Right. Sorry. I, uh, I've been kind of running a fever lately, and... I guess when I do something, I go all in?'' 
 
 I laughed nervously in away that made me hate myself, but relived the tension on her face, everything else replaced with concern. Before I knew what she was doing, she'd reached out and pressed her hand to my forehead- though she whipped it back, whimpering in pain. 
 
 `` Jesus, Kel, you burned me! Look, just... take the rest of the day off, okay? I mean, good job on coming in and everything, but you, uh... you should go home. Go. Go home.'' 
 
 I nodded, thanked her, and stood up. 
 
 As I walked away, feeling the soles of my shoes becoming tacky as they began to melt, I regretted ever trying to be a regular guy, ever trying to be anything other than what I really was, who I really was: 
 
 Hot Stuff.
