PJO & HoO Drabbles

by prehistoric-huntress

She loved him. He hated her. The world collapsed. The day was saved. She died for the one she loved. He fought for the one he lost. They sang, they lived, they fought, and they died. Words can't capture the entirety of a moment, the emotions and reality that floods our every waking moment, but we'll be damned if we don't try.

6. Thanks Butch

Thanks Butch

He wasn't going to her anything. Never. And he wasn't going to tell anyone else. Ever. His mind knew, and that is enough. It's not like he was in love with her anyway, and it's not like she would even spare a second glance. He just liked her attitude. She was pretty, but tough. Tough was always good. He really liked that. He walked into the her Cabin to tell her the horses were ready for their tenth trip, but he stopped when he found her sobbing on her bed.

Her tangled blonde hair, that she hasn't washed in ages because she was too busy looking for her boyfriend was framing her puffy face. She heard his footsteps and wiped away the tears, cleared her throat and pretended like nothing was wrong.

"Ready?" She said. He nodded, feeling sad and protective over her in her fragile state.

"Good." She stood, smoothed her jeans and walked towards the door. She stopped and looked up at him.

"Thanks, Butch," she said, touching his arm once and then walking out. If her boyfriend isn't dying somewhere, he would definitely pummel him to nothing when he saw him.