Loud music and sneaky sex.
Kinky piercings, vodka in a water bottle, dangerously sharp eyeliner.
Anything to convince herself she wasn't crazy.
At first, Thalia's acts of rebellion were merely to defy her mother, a woman who insisted on having a daughter as beautiful and immaculate as herself. But after awhile, they became the lucid pain that snapped her back into reality. Anyway, her cries for help went unseen by her mother who was too lost in her personal painful stupor to notice her daughter's own spiral into oblivion. Her mother's perfume of vodka masked Thalia's own essence of cheap beer and her chances of teenage defiance were lost as she struggled to put her own wasted mother to bed.
As a child, Thalia was frequently convinced of her own insanity. She didn't fit in at school, she was always called a freak. Her teachers didn't believe half of the things she said, the excuses they said were lies, the things she swore she saw. The little blond girls who wore pink dresses with their Mary Jane shoes would sneer at Thalia's short hair and combat boots.
Forced to grow up far too early, Thalia was frequently accused of having authority issues. Precocious and insecure, she took care of her unstable mother until she was hit the realization that as a child, she really should be taking care of herself, so she left.
Never is anything so liberating as the realization that there is no longer anyone or anything to hold you back. This understanding only helped Thalia grow. She became fierce and strong and admirable. She experimented and tasted the world, learning what was good and bad for her. She had close calls with demons of the underworld and demons of a more personal nature. But never was there a person as assertive and confident as Thalia.
Despite this new armor she wore, Thalia was deeply insecure. She suffered terrible bouts of insomnia that stemmed from her guilt and fear. Fear that she would regret leaving her instable mother, fear for her own safety, and fear for her terribly uncertain future. She was also incurably lonely. Constantly being on the run and untrustworthy of anyone remotely nice to her had left her friendless and frigid.
But that all changed when she met Luke.
She was backed against a wall, fighting an enormous hellhound, fueled more by intoxicating adrenaline than fear despite the drasticly decreasing odds of her surviving this fight. She was terribly wounded, her weapon thrown out of reach, and exhausted, but she still had the balls to laugh in the monster's face.
"Laughing at the face of death?" A disembodied voice announced the arrival of a stranger, soon followed by an impressive display of swordsmanship that saved Thalia's life.
The stranger, now covered in the dusty remains of the almost victorious hellhound, revealed himself to be a few years older than Thalia, with light hair and pained eyes.
"I saved your life." He announced.
"I could've handled it." Suddenly aware of her grungy appearance and irresponsible behavior had made Thalia shy and self-conscious.
"Hmm. Just admit it, you were fucked."
Thalia's attempts to protest were interrupted by his rebuttal, however. "It's ok though, because I've been following you for weeks and I know you're a good fighter. A little reckless, but nothing a good sparring partner can't fix up… So what do you say? How about we form an alliance?"
And so it was settled.
It came to pass that the only thing that could penetrate Thalia's hard exterior was Luke's equally damaged inner turmoil. The first few weeks consisted of awkward nights in abandoned buildings, the conversation only comfortable when concentrated on monsters or fighting. They only ever got physically close to each other when sparring, something that Thalia made sure stayed impersonal and distant, but it was hard not to form a bond with someone when you are frequently involved in saving each other's lives.
They turned out to be perfect partners. Thalia's impulsive reckless style balanced Luke's deliberate maneuvers and they both shared a flare for dramatic moves and sarcastic comebacks. They made good progress during the day, fighting monsters and covering fast ground. At night they would sit around a fire and try to entertain themselves.
When they exhausted each other's repertoire of battle stories, they moved onto childish party games. Thalia was especially good at "Never Have I Ever" but Luke always won at "Truth or Dare", knowing that Thalia was a terrible liar and drew the line at dares that involved taking off her clothes. By unspoken consent, they both stayed away from topics concerning their families, their homes, or their pasts. They even stayed away from discussing too far into the future, focusing instead on the immediate present.
She was uncertain of when exactly it happened, but somewhere along the way, Thalia had found that she had grown close to Luke. It was a terribly difficult thing for her to admit. Relationships and affection were kryptonite, Achilles' heels, The Ultimate Weakness. She awoke feeling suddenly vulnerable and this realization resulted in her disassociation from Luke. Thalia felt at war with herself. One side valiantly justified their relationship. For Christ's sake, you are lonely! Having a relationship is not a weakness, it's human nature! It's not like you're signing over your soul to him, your feelings will never be used against you! The other half of her believed otherwise. Years of being used and taken advantage of warned her that a relationship with Luke would only end poorly. This will never end well. You will only get hurt, manipulated, and taken advantage of.
But it was a terribly lonely way to live.
But you have to do what you have to do.
It was not a conscious decision, when she finally made it. It was fueled by battle lust and the euphoria of victory. Her giddiness at once again escaping death brought forth a wave of emotion that she had never experienced before. Fighting with Luke was something surreal. It was like fighting with another version of herself. He could read her mind and her body. He knew what do and when to do it. They worked so well together, like pieces of a machine and it no longer felt like fighting. For once, Thalia felt like she was succeeding at this, at life. Like she had the advantage and she was winning. And she owed it all to him. She knew she did.
So she didn't think about it. She just grabbed the front of his t-shirt, pulling his lips to her own. His response was slow, surprise inhibiting his reaction. But when his rough hands found her face, moving slowly down her body as he adjusted to her, as his lips worked furiously against hers, and as her hands trailed down the muscles of his chest, she couldn't believe she had ever questioned this.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review, I promise you'll make my day! :)