☤┆— ❪ abittangledup ❫

she knows when she’s crossed a line. it’s not hard topic pick up on his scar is personal & a bad
memory for him, but it tells a story & it’s unique. he’s unique. though he’d never really admit that.
it’s all a reminder of how his father ‘set him up’ for failure. she didn’t believe that for a second.
their parents were gods they had an entire planet to run. one had to understand that if they ever wanted to find happiness…or else they’d end up like luke - bitter &angry. &she herself found herself bitter &angry at athena for never being there for her physically. straight A report cards
mean nothing when you don’t really have someone to put it on the fridge and take you out to
dinner to celebrate your accomplishments. but what made her special out of all her other half
siblings in the cabin. though she wasn’t exactly like them either. blonde hair silver eyes
contrasted greatly with red hair and hazel eyes. it was almost as if she were the black sheep of
the family - or red sheep if one was to be technical. 

her hand slid down from his scar following his lead ‘    i think it’s handsome …  ’ she murmured
her arms burying themselves under the covers. for the summer time it sure could get cold in the
cabins. without thinking she curls in closer to him, closing the distance he made when he’d shied
away from her touch. though she doesn’t bring much attention to it. ‘    the weather, huh, if i
wasn’t so exhausted i’d call your BS - but i am…so i’ll entertain your small talk.    ‘ there’s a fleck
of mischievousness  in those hazel eyes that often lead people to question whether she was a
child of hermes not athena. luckily she’d been claimed. or else this entire situation would have
been awkward as hades.  ‘ we could always ask chiron to somehow craft us a mock storm or
something - for training purposes. i kinda miss bad weather you know. rainy cabin days, hot
chocolate with nectar….it’d be nice….and of course for training that too. clearly that’s much more
important than cozy reading time.    ‘ another pause to think for a moment. ‘    tug-o-war &the wall
kind of cover a lot of those weather bases. but i do see what you mean. from a strategical point of 
view. ‘

_{hermes kids have never been known for their strategic thinking : they’ve always left that to athena’s kids ; hermes kids are more gung-ho, falling into the fray with nothing more than their quick thinking & over-confidence, somehow always coming up on top. that is their advantage : no hours spent planning the perfect strategy, laying out contingency plans for when things went awry. hermes kids just did things & dealt with the consequences afterwards. but now, his whole life seemed to be a strategy. carefully chosen words so as to keep his secret, nightmares so as to stop him defecting, observant gaze looking out for those unhappy demigods, the bitter & angry who want to make a change. his mind is built for wit & cunning, for making plans on the spot & changing them as you go. it’s not made for all this planning ; for all this secrecy. luke’s gaze drops briefly, taking in the sleeping forms around him ; his brothers & sisters, the unclaimed, the children of gods not deemed worthy enough for a cabin ; all of them crowded into number eleven, with its peeling paint & worn wood. they deserve better than this ; all demigods deserve better than this.}

_{❛     it’s not.     ❜ tone is terse ; why is that scar so prominent? he would happily trade its position for any of the other scars on his body ; happily have sustained a wound from the hydra on his arm, or torso, or leg — anything but his face. why couldn’t that one be one he’d received in training? every time he looks in the mirror, luke is reminded of his failure. he’d long been able to look past the resemblance to his father, to his half-siblings, but this? it’s just salt in the wound. luke falls silent again as she closes the distance between them ; as she calls him out on his bullshit ; as she plays along. there’s nothing more he’s really left to say ; he can’t talk about his sleep-depravation, about the plan he’s got to finally redeem himself in everybody’s eyes, about how often he thinks about his mom, & the pit in the bottom of his stomach that churns whenever he remembers the green glow ( why is so difficult to remember the good times? the chocolate chip cookies, the pb&j washed down with kool-aid — nothing but distant memories, distorted with memories of those glowing eyes ). pretending is easier in the day time : pretending to be happy, pretending to be okay with his situation, pretending to be on their side, but it’s not day time & the darkness brings with it doubt & hate & exhaustion. ❛     yeah. maybe we could do that.      ❜ he doesn’t even remember what she’d said in response.}