'The Horror Aphrodite Brings'
— murasaki no chou
Summary: It was his ignorance that brought misfortunes to himself. All because Percy introduced a certain song to the Goddess of Love, she wouldn't stop pestering him. Damn his cursed luck.
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Peacock, and I never will.
I don't know what to do any more; my mind is blank as if it's a television that's been turned off. I mean, sure I can still think, but my thoughts are all jumbled up like jigsaw pieces scattered across the floor. Gods, I hate it when this kind of thing happens.
You may now be wondering what the Hades is going on with me. A plausible answer? Running. I'm running as fast as I could as though my life depends on it, which, I'll admit, is true. My life is in danger—it's in a more perilous condition than facing mythological creatures that are hungry for demigods that I have faced before—especially my sane mind, or what's left of it, anyway. I have to go somewhere safe, hide until the coast is clear, and then go see a therapist that accepts demigods for clients. I know I'll need the latter the most.
"Percy!" a melodic voice calls out from a distance. Crap! It looks like I have to start writing my will while I still can. Either that, or keep running until I can no longer feel my legs and collapse in exhaustion, and get executed by a certain person. Or deity, for that matter.
"Percy, wait!" the feminine voice says, reminding me of soft bells tinkling in a gentle, summer breeze. But that lyrical voice, which has a touch of plea, tells me that I'm doomed when I get caught. "I need to speak with you!"
I'm tempted to scream "No!" but figured it best to keep my mouth shut. Besides, with all these 'extra exercising', the oxygen in my lungs is being used up; I can't say that anything that would escape my mouth would be intelligible with the huffing and panting.
I glance over my shoulder, sweating violently like I'm working out, to see a pulchritudinous goddess—because 'beautiful' is a huge understatement in this case, and I mean it—with long, wavy gold hair, a pair of striking grey eyes and a slightly tanned complexion. (Her appearance always changes to the individual, who sees her, so that they think she is beautiful but, somehow, it isn't changing for me.) She is wearing a fiery, crimson satin gown that hugs her perfect body and stiletto heels with real diamonds; don't ask how I know this, okay?
To tell you the truth, I would have gawked like most guys would and melt into a puddle, but, at my current situation, she looks more like my worst nightmare.
Correction: She is my worst nightmare.
Funny thing is, I want to turn around and envelope my arms around her. An action I would never do in a presence of a stranger, no matter how statuesque they are. But can you really blame me, if the person who is chasing after me looks exactly like my girlfriend? I guess not.
I take a sharp turn to the right, bumping onto a group of angry campers. It's a good thing they aren't the children of Ares or else they would have beaten me to a pulp.
I stutter an apology as I continue to run. But the question is: Where? Truth is, I have no idea on where to go. The sea? I could escape my pursuer, but I'm too far away from the seashore; I would also need to turn around because I'm going to the opposite direction, but that would just appear like I'm giving her the message, Hey! I'm coming back! Where's my hug? Besides, I'm going to be tired by the time I get there, therefore that's out of the question.
My second option is my cabin. Is it safe, though? No, I'll be trapped in if she finds me there, and that's also too obvious. So, like the sea, my cabin is crossed out of my Mental List of Possible Safe Hiding Places. Now, where can I flee to?
The Big House suddenly comes to my mind, and I feel tempted to go there and conceal my presence in one of the rooms—for a couple of hours, maybe—until I remember Mr. D and Chiron. Chiron can't, and won't, help me hide from my pursuer because he doesn't think that it's a smart thing to do. Mr. D, on the other hand, wouldn't even bother; he, and an apologetic Chiron, might as well hand me over to the goddess like some sort of Nobel Prize. Knowing me, I obviously wouldn't want that to happen. That means my resistance would go down the drains like it's nothing at all, in the end.
I guess my options are narrowed down to two: I should either keep on running until I dehydrate and die, or just surrender—the latter doesn't suit well with me, though.
Looking around my surroundings, I find a suitable place to hide: The woods! She wouldn't chase me all the way to the forest in her expensive stiletto heels and precious gown, would she?
I take my chance and run in the direction of the forest. I just hope I made the right decision!
Maybe I did because I can no longer hear her heels making contact with the asphalt path. I also can't hear her pleas, telling me to wait. I know I'm in deep trouble for disobeying a goddess' order, but this is for the best. For me and for my sanity.
My steps gradually come to a halt. I kneel on the soft soil gasping for breath, my hands resting on the ground, feeling its texture; the grass brushing against my arms. My lungs are on fire, my throat is parched—it feels like it's a desert with the dryness—and I'm having difficulty in breathing. I should really rest for a while; I sit under the shade of the trees, out of the sun. I'll wait until I regain my normal breathing.
I notice a couple of wood nymphs peaking at me from their tree bark before they disappear inside and leave me alone again. I don't mind having company, but it feels more peaceful and safe if there is no one with me. Maybe the nymphs sensed that? I'm not sure.
I stand up, chest heaving as my lungs still beg for oxygen to be taken in. I practically drag myself to the nearest tree, and lean against it; my whole body slides down until I'm in a sitting position. I leave one of my legs outstretched, while I pull the other to my chest and rest both of my arms on it—my head drenched in perspiration.
As I take in deep breaths, the essence of nature fills up my lungs. It's nothing like the polluted air of New York; it's completely fresh, clean and alive. The dead leaves covering the ground give off the impression of dampness. While plants differ in scent, they are all in harmony; in balance.
My eyelids begin to droop, drowsiness taking over my body. I feel as if some force is pulling me away from the place, lulling me to sleep. My lids are almost closed, and a yawn is ready to escape my lips...
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"
My eyes snap open, suddenly I forget all about sleeping; hearing her voice makes me stand bolt upright up as if I'm struck by lightning. Ironically, Zeus would zap me if I'm any where near his territory.
"W—What?" I stutter, looking baffled. I try to take a step back when I realise that I'm leaning on a tree, hands on the rough texture of the bark. I gulp, silently saying prayers to no god in particular. Well, this is goodbye, life I will miss you dearly.
Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, smiles at me brightly, showing off her perfect pearl-white teeth. It doesn't make me feel any better, seeing her take the appearance of my girlfriend, Annabeth Chase. She looks at me from top to bottom, making me feel self-conscious. Am I that unattractive?
"Percy, why have you been running away from me?" she asks gently, almost purring, and I can't help but blush. Hormones and ADHD are so not a good combination, especially if Aphrodite, herself, is in front of you.
"I... Uh... Wasn't running away. I'm just doing some exercise...?" I say, a little unsure. I mentally slap myself at how obvious my lie is. Smooth, Percy, real smooth.
"Hm—hmm," Aphrodite nods slowly, her smile still in tact, but I know that she doesn't believe me. I mean, who would? You would have to be an idiot to not notice it.
"Um, is there something you need from me, Lady Aphrodite?" I ask, fumbling for words and shifting uncomfortably. I have to be careful with my words, phrases and sentences in the presence of a god. If I even utter a single word that doesn't sit well with them, well, let's say I'll face some horrible punishments. I, for one, think that Aphrodite would give me an extreme make-over if I offend her.
Instead of answering, she flashes me another one of her dazzling smiles, reminding me of twinkling stars in a clear, night sky—I'm not exaggerating. She takes several steps towards me, and I could only stare at her, my mind screaming, Get away now, idiot! But my body won't react; I'm stuck, rooted to the spot. Brilliant.
"Do you remember what happened earlier, Percy?" Aphrodite asks, approaching me like some sort of predator cornering her prey. I bit my lower lip, trying to recall what I was doing before this messed-up afternoon. Let's see, I was taking a stroll on the beach with Annabeth, had a chat with Grover, fought against Nico in the arena... and was listening to some music by Thalia's tree when Aphrodite came along.
Realisations dawns upon me. Oh no!, I think, the colour draining from me face. She doesn't mean that, does she? Please, no. Panicking inwardly, I don't notice Aphrodite now only standing a few inches away from me. She grins mischievously, confirming me of my fears. If I'm going to die now, I think, taking a deep, shaky breath as she closes our distance, please do it quickly and painless.
"Oh, Percy," Aphrodite coos beside my ear. I could feel her warm breath tickling my skin, and the scent of her overpoweringly sweet perfume invades my lungs, which I try not to gag on.
This is the end.
"I want the jaw dropping, eye popping, head turning, body shocking," she sings in her lyrical voice. Within her close proximity her voice sounds flirty and the way she breathes against the skin of my neck is pure torture. I think of shooting myself just to end everything. Now!
"I want my heart throbbing, ground shaking, show stopping, amazing," she continues, and I feel like passing out right there and then. Dear Gods, please put me out of my misery. Please!
"I wanna see your peacock!" And, as if to prove her point, she gives little Percy a light squeeze.
The last thing I know, Aphrodite is smirking at my barely conscious figure, an odd glint in her eyes.
A/N: This is a fan fiction dedicated to my best friend, Alex6162 in deviantART. XD She kind of gave me this idea when she told me what her favourite song is. Yes, it's Peacock by Katy Perry. I'll admit, I didn't know what the meaning behind the song was, until she... told me.
Well, I do hope you enjoyed reading this. XD Sorry if it isn't funny... Also, this is my first time writing in First-Person and in present tense; I just wanted to try that out. :D
Thank you for reading. Please review. ConCrits are welcome. :)