text: He crashed loudly while she danced around him. He was clumsy, connecting with everything as he moved. She was delicate and agile as she remained strikingly beautiful. Her touch could destroy much more than his brute strength, but when people saw them both, it was he they feared. She was admired, and it upset him to be the bad guy. She was sly and snaky in every way, and he got the blame for each of them. It was his job to be loud and brash, but the thought didn’t make it any easier for him. He acted as her bodyguard; the one who scared away intruders. To make people think only once about approaching, if they dared to. She didn’t need the assistance, but it was his role in life. He was there to be scary and noisy, whilst she lit up people’s eyes in amazement. He watched her dance. Her body electrified everything, spreading light to corners and shadows long since forgotten. He felt as though he should be jealous of her. He could see why people fell in love with her, it was just he was given the bad hand. As he watched her move he could feel rage building up inside of him. Her moves were eloquent, gracefully choreographed and self-taught over the years. She had perfected every one of her moves, created every streak for the purpose of luring people’s eyes. To make them fall in love with something they could never reach. He felt himself getting riled up as he thought of his own clumsiness, alongside hers. How silly and infantile he must look. How crazy and destructive people must see him. He felt the anger bubbling up inside him, and as if on cue to match his boiling point, she winked at him. He threw himself around as hard as he could. When he got angry, this was how he dealt with it. He hit every part of his body that he could, as hard as he could. Thumping and crashing around, punching, kicking and flailing everywhere to create as much noise as he could. He was trying so hard to hit something with the amount of force that would quell his anger. He could not hit her, but he could not stand being her shadow either. Finally he hit the final blow of his explosion. He steadied himself to get air back into him, as she danced past him quietly, moving onwards. “Wow, Thunder. You’re doing great tonight!” She flashed again, making streaks through the sky as she moved above the city. Thunder watched her moving away, losing interest, and his energy as he felt his efforts were futile. He would always be her shadow, and it was his job to set up the atmosphere for that show off Lightning. For the rest of the storm, he hit feebly, creating noise, but very minimal sound as he carried on watching her. Maybe one day he could become the show, but for now he was the stage.