Hey guys... let me know what you think of this. It's kind of an experiment. I'm not really experienced in writing romance (I didn't really include any in this chapter but I will later), let alone with characters like these... you'll see.
If you have any tips or criticism or just something to say, drop a review!
He could feel it. Ever since Tartarus he had felt it, stirring deep within his soul, this evil darkness he feared more than any monster he had ever faced.
It had first awoken when he fell into the void. It was an overwhelming connection, a bond with the deep and unforgiving shadows of that tortured hell, one that whispered its sweet lies and dark promises into his mind. Suddenly, he was aware that he was capable of more, so much more than he was ever told. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.
The world took on a whole new light. What he had once declared right and just without a thought then seemed to be foolish and ridiculous. Though he had landed on the toxic soils of Tartarus, he knew he was still falling down, down, down...
She tried to help. Her soothing, meaningless lies kept these powerful, evil revelations at bay. By the time they rejoined their friends, she had almost convinced him that everything was okay. Unfortunately, it didn't last. The darkness kept speaking to him, it's filthy whispers promising to lay waste to this too bright, too clean world.
It didn't take her long to figure out that something was wrong. He never could hide anything from her, hard as he tried. He told her about the whispers, how they never stopped, that every day he struggled to stay above the darkness, to stay sane. "It'll be okay," she'd said. "You'll be okay. We can figure this out. Together."
Then, the war was over. Rebuilding began. It was a time of rejoicing and a time of hope.
It was a time of mourning. Decay.
Sometimes in his cabin, late at night, he would break. She would always be there, ready to help. She would hold him as he cried, calm him as he screamed, and he would love her. He would love her in the crudest sense of the word, caving in to his cruelest desires on these heated nights. He knew he was hurting her. He didn't really care. That terrified him.
She began to give up hope. He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him, and he could feel her tense when he touched her. It disgusted him. He hated that look in her eyes, of fear and a slight touch of growing contempt.
He loved her. More than anyone in the world he loved her, but this darkness was taking his love, the purest and simplest of things and crushing it into something twisted and cruel.
Finally, horribly, she left. It left a tear in his spirit, an emptiness in the hole that she had filled, the hole that had once held his long dead soul. He was a parasite leeching off of her happiness, he could see it clearly. She had wanted to fix him, but she had failed. He knew her well enough to know that she would blame herself forever.
He didn't want her to leave.
But she was better gone, where she couldn't be hurt by his poison.
Annabeth. Gods, he'd loved her. More that words could say, he had loved her. She had been the light at the end of his twisted tunnel, keeping him alive, keeping him fighting. She'd left. His substitute soul had left.
And he was still broken.