Firstly, a special thank you to Hunter of Artemis 140 for reviewing! I was going to post the rest of the one-shot (well, a one-shot split into 3 chapters), but there were some hitches with the ending, so here's the second part.
A minimum of one, just a measly one, review before I post the third and final chapter seems reasonable to me... of course, the more the better. Enjoy and review!
He can feel the adrenaline and heat pulsing through his blood, as his body struggles to keep up with his inner turmoil. The pain in his heart throbs, fades, then grows once again, fighting against the joy welling up inside him. The scene in front of him is like a drug. He can't tear his eyes away, and it's slowly killing him… but… saving him at the same time.
Every fine, black line.
The little girl leaps excitedly onto the swing, singing in triumph because she's finally gotten there first and does not have to wait for her turn. She squirms about, urging her mother to push her. Higher! Faster! She grips the swing tighter, squealing happily all the while. Higher! Faster! The girl's hair has come loose by now, flying all over the place in a black tangle. The man can't help noticing every fine strand is wavy and black, as black as jet. Just like his own.
Every crease and crinkle.
The girl on the swing has finally had enough, and clambers down, her innocent face creased into a wide grin. The woman bends over, patting her daughter affectionately on the cheek. Her daughter's bubbly mood is contagious, and her usually solemn and reflective expression softens. She doesn't laugh, oh no, she hasn't done that in a long, long time. But the faintest hint of a smile touches the corner of her mouth; a few crinkles, nothing more.
Every clouded grey circle.
The man looks at the first pair of circles, and he sees nothing but bright, uncorrupted elation. He sighs. Sometimes, he wishes he can be like the little girl - oblivious, lively, and forever young. The man's gaze travels elsewhere, seeking out something he doesn't want to see.
And suddenly, he finds it. There it is. What he lost.
The man stares long and deep into those stormy, swirling, grey pools. Those pools are filled with unimaginable sorrow and regret – yet there's also this flicker of self-righteousness, which calmly announces: I did the right thing. I did what was best for my child. And that is what hurts more than anything, more than all the tears, all the slaps, all the insults.
But why? He asks silently. Why does it hurt so badly?
The answer comes just as easily as the question.
Because she's right. Because he knows she's right. Because he knows she has every single reason in the world to stand up and shout 'Injustice!' But she doesn't. She knows that he knows. And that's enough for her.
The woman finally notices the man watching her, and half-turns to meet his intense stare. Like so many times before, clouded grey meets piercing sea-green in a clash of colour and emotion. The moment seems to last an eternity for both of them. Every little thing they once shared, many years ago – it all surges to the surface of their minds. No words are needed; all that could be said would be best left unspoken.
Then, without warning, the woman spins around abruptly, grabs her daughter, and strides purposefully towards the exit of the small park. It's over and you know it, Percy.
The man doesn't give chase. Deep inside, he understands he has long since forfeited that privilege. Forfeited that privilege. The words involuntarily cause a pang of bitterness to shiver up his spine. Privilege. He hadn't always thought of her in this way. Of course he does now, but he didn't back then, when it actually mattered. Closing his eyes, he recalls his life's biggest regret…
