"Hey," Jason muttered.

"Hey," Reyna repeated, but with a tone of mockery.

Awkard silence.

Jason felt stupid. Eight months and all he can say is one word. But he supposed he doesn't need to, as he was ashamed of himself. Leaving her alone to take care of two hundred Romans? Not entirely his fault. But when they could've been together, and she first saw him walk out of the flying ship holding hands with a girl, especially a graecus, he almost hid in the Argo, just so he thought she'll rip him with her bare hands.

However, she didn't. She just gave him a blank stare.

For gods' sake, she's the leader, he thought. She'll give diplomacy at best that she can offer. But there's also the part of concealing the hurt he'd cause her. He's sure of it, and he's guilty than he'll ever admit.

"Jason, I-I," Reyna stuttered, finally breaking out the silence.

"I really, really miss you, Reyna," Jason interrupted, without thinking of the consequences there might be.

Reyna looked murderous at first, but in an instant it was replaced by a warm smile. It's the kind of smile that melts his insides, but she made no reply.

Still, Jason felt a little hopeful. Maybe she didn't give up on him that yet. Then suddenly, without hesitation, he hugged her tight. He really hated his guts right now.

As if the word stops for this moment, she gave back his embrace.

"I really, really miss you too, Jason," she sounded like she's trying to hold back tears.

They both knew that they're never good at words when it comes to feelings, yet they know they didn't need to be. Because it's where they felt home. It's the most beautiful sound for them—the hymn of each other's silence.