𝐎, 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! ; Percy Jackson

𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

( xvii );

( stupid cupid pt 2 )

       SAVING HER WAS ROTTEN WORK. It was as if her actual soul was ripped out of her body. The boy, Adonis, had been back to Aphrodite's temple more and more, bringing gifts to Amara Abdele, each one sweeter in sentiment. Adonis was the personification of love in Amara's eyes.

      Then Aphrodite ripped his heart out in front of her.

       It confused her so. If it was her father, who forbid the action of love ( now she understood why. Aphrodite sucked the life out of anyone she's ever loved), she would have accepted it. Knowing she was treading on thin ice, sneaking around with Adonis, stealing grapes from farmers vines and feeding them to each other in-between secret kisses, but the love goddess?

     She had killed her lover, and thus killing her as well. Amara was a shell of herself, absolutely dead inside. Aphrodite's experiment had failed once again.

     But now, she had finally, finally succeeded.

     SOME WOULD SAY THAT SHE WAS ACTING THE ANTONYM OF WHATEVER SANE MEANS, but this was the most clearheaded she's ever been. She's felt what crazy is, and perhaps Percy's death awoke something deep inside of her, the one thing that was fighting back the maddening reality of her full potential. With Percy dead, her fears of scaring away one of the only people that truly care for her well being were gone. She embraced her mothers sickening sense of love and the voices in her head quieted to her command, she could feel the heat behind her fingernails, itching to play with the enamor in everyone's hearts like a puppeteer, ( she could do it if she truly wanted to ), the glow was back in her skin, hair soft as spun silk, gone were the Bambi eyes, they were replaced with ones that could crush marrow and shatter the rotten cavities in chests.

       Aphrodite had done it. She had created herself a corporeal body. At what costs, though?  The sleepless nights for Nicoletta, the crisis's and the bruises on the side of her temple from hitting the flesh there, trying to quiet everyone's voices around her. Their feelings, their stupid feelings that had so little significance it made Nicoletta sick. She had slept through a beating heart that felt like it was going to explode any second, and for what? An experiment?

      She looked at the veins in her arms, wondering what color of blood was under her skin, wondering, thinking if it could possibly be golden. She pinched her flesh, flexing her hand then looked at the mirror, and for the first time she knew who was staring back at her. If she was an experiment, she'd show Aphrodite results.

      Nicoletta shoved Little Angel in her back pocket, and for the time, she wasn't ashamed of death that ensued. She stepped outside of the Aphrodite cabin with purpose, she owed an explanation to a certain bookworm, she could feel his steady heart from across the camp.