Thalia is brave.
Thalia makes her own choices.
Thalia breaks her own promises.
/
"I don't want to go," she sighs, taking in the boarded up treehouse in front of her, pressing a hand to the bark of the willow she had killed but brought back to life. Her head bows against the rough wood, a final goodbye, before he grabs her hand and drags her and her skin away from their former home.
"We have to go," he tugs, and she relents, sending one last look backwards.
/
"I hate you."
"I know you do."
"Do you hate me?"
"Even if I tried, I don't think I could. I love you too much."
/
She goes to the willow again, years later. This time instead of a blond boy she has a photograph with her, and she presses it against the chestnut bark and bows her head again. This time she cries, and no one pulls her away.
A gust of wind flits across her skin, caressing her limbs as she shudders, breaks, stays. If she closes her eyes tight enough she thinks she can pretend they are hands. But no matter. It is fantasy, anyways, just like what they once had.
/
Luke is brave.
Luke breaks his own choices.
Luke makes his own promises.
/
In the next life, they end up together. Finally, they have moments they can hold onto, rather than what-could-have-beens.
They are mortal, living in a world that is imploding. Their forms do not remember but their souls do, entwined.
/
Living inside of something that is not alive is torturous. He can barely hold onto anything he once was.
But he has not yet given up, so he grasps small memories. He remembers his promises (but he is a son of Hermes, must he keep them? Nevermind, he is no longer) and his choices and he is filled somewhat with regrets but not entirely. He wishes he had not left them, but he does not regret leaving Olympus.
Regaining control is like being shocked back to life. He is there for but seconds, and then disappears back into the chaos.
/
The Isles of the Blest are reached a millennia later, but they are there, still soulmates. Maybe not in that life, but there were others. Will be others.
/
The dagger is in his arm. He can feel it - he has not been able to feel for a long time.
Faces. Annabeth. Percy. Grover. Not -
He does not ask where she is. He does not want to know.
/
hallo!
i don't want to make this really long but omg story one-hundred (or 184 including mbc but eh) and there are so many people to thank!
lizzie: you're always there. thank you.
alina: what, it's been two years? i'm possible our friendship will last more.
jake: ahahah. um. you're funny, original, and just you. thanks for that.
sylvia: you are both an amazing person and friend and i'm so grateful!
grace: space is awesome, and so are you!
di: i guess we're still getting to know each other, but you're inspirational and perfecttt.
kat: i haven't talked to you in some time, but you're the queen of poetry and plainly lovely!
lunar: just smiley faces.
vcrx: that one political person. you're pretty dang cool :)
there are more people xd
also, thanks to all my reviewers! i suck at answering them but i cherish every one. thank you.
i hope you stick with me through the next hundred! they'll happen!
love love love,
dee