I was bored, and decided to write something. This is what happened.

Quirks.

I've found that every one has them. Even me.

I've also found that, generally, most other people's quirks tend to annoy me.

Not every one's mind you. Some people are quite good at keeping them hidden. I respect those people, because they understand that quirks are things meant to be kept to yourself. Take my own quirk for example. I tap the inside of my shoes with my toes. I don't even move my whole foot, so no one can see it. And the tapping is so quiet that no one can hear it. Simple. Why can't every one else do that?

It's not so much that the sound or movement of whatever the quirk is annoys me, though a lot of the time they still do. It's simply…when you know the quirk of that person, you suddenly expect it. Take, for example, Joey Wheeler. The poor, I mean that quite literally, boy's accent is his terrible quirk. Every time a word comes out of his mouth it's butchered and there's a proper English speaker who dies every time he says 'chu'. I feel like cringing whenever I'm around him.

But, if suddenly Joey were to stop speaking that way that would mean something was wrong. Something in him had changed and then he wouldn't be the Joey Wheeler I despise so much. And that quirk I had grown accustomed to was suddenly missing in my life, leaving this big gaping whole, leaving me wanting.

That was the case with his younger sister.

It was several years after I met Serenity that I figured her quirk out. I couldn't believe I was so blind to it before, however. Because much like her brother's it draws much attention.

She plays piano. Quite well when there's actually one under her. But even when there isn't her fingers are fluttering away in the air. Or on the table, or any other solid object nearby, like her leg, or mine on occasion (though I don't think she ever realized she had done it). Of course, whenever she did it on a solid object tapping could be heard. And not tapping like mine. Loud tapping. Annoying tapping. Constantly. It was like a symphony in her head directed down to her fingers.

I prayed often for her to be standing so her fluttering fingers could just play the air, in silence. Now I pray for it to return…

I suddenly have this acute awareness of just how quiet it is. I keep trying to improvise, tapping a free hand on my desk, or lightly hitting my foot against one of the drawers. But it wasn't the graceful kind of tapping her's was. Mine seems so…brutish. Unrehersed. Hers has a definable feeling behind it, I could almost heat the music myself.

I listen as silence pulsates around my office.

Stupid quirks.

When was she getting back from that stupid vacation again? She said two weeks…and she left this morning…

I really do hate quirks.