[2] 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 , p. jackson , j. grace

xix. fresh out of hell (and it sucks)

CHAPTER NINETEEN ───────────
✧₊˚｡({  FRESH OUT OF HELL (AND IT SUCKS)  })

" will you cry? GRACIE ABRAMS "

{ PERCY }
JULY 18TH, 2010
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PERCY NEVER LIKED FLYING. BUT now it's an immense feeling of euphoria to be up in the sky, feeling the breeze on his face. The emotion is only dampened by Roma. Well, not her specifically. But her silence. He's worried about her. She's not herself. And everyone is beginning to notice. He feels a spike of panic at being the center of their scrutiny. As though they can find out all their secrets just from one firm look. They can't. But it doesn't stop the anxiety from building in his chest anyway.

          Reyna glances interestedly in the direction of him and Roma often. She'd arrived on the Argo II while the rest of them had been down in the House of Hades. Percy instinctively tightens his hold on Roma's hand at the praetor's looks. Roma glances up at him, her gaze far off but still sharp enough to make it seem like she's listening. "What?" she asks.

          He steals another glimpse of Reyna who's eyeing them again. He tugs Roma a little closer and leans down slightly. "It's Reyna," he mutters with a tiny frown, turning to face the sun in the sky. "She keeps looking at us."

          Roma doesn't even try to peek back at the girl. Instead, she inwardly sighs. "We've just been through Tartarus and back, of course she's fucking looking at us. They all are," she remarks sarcastically, leaning over the railing of the edge of the ship.

          Percy feels a sudden protective urge of Roma. He moves closer to her, copying her action of leaning against the railing but with only one arm as he can barely move the other. He's unsure what to say for a moment as the Argo II drifts along peacefully. But then Roma suddenly speaks again. "Are things going to change?" she asks, her chapped lips pulling into a slight grimace. "Are . . . we?"

          Uneasy anxiety spikes in her chest, he can practically see it on her face. He tries not to show much emotion on his face, aware of Annabeth's eyes on him at that moment. "No," he answers quietly, "we won't. Promise."

          Roma raises an eyebrow at him. "You can't promise something like that."

          "Yes I can." He meets her gaze, expression serious, and angles her chin up to face him properly. "You know why." He doesn't say it again. For fear of driving her away with his forwardness. He hadn't even meant to say it. But he thought, if he was going to die, he wanted her to at least have heard it once.