True Blue ✷ Leo Valdez.

02: Unfortunately Blaire. 

    BLAIRE REALLY DIDN'T understand why Leo found the side of her extremely freckled face so fascinating. She didn't understand why his wide, constantly roaming eyes were glued to the slope of her slim nose, to the upward curl of her dark eyelashes, to the frizzy strands of hair that had fallen loose from her braids. But Leo, or at least his actions, portrayed a narrative of fascinated awe.

   She tried to pretend she couldn't feel his dark irises scanning each and every exposed inch of her being, it was very hard though. He gaped like he'd never seen a girl before. Like he'd never seen a human being before.

As they were trudging through the dining pavilion, weaving their way through a mob of campers who were invested in an over-the-top game of Mythomagic, Leo spoke up after several minutes of awkward silence, "So, you're Blaire, huh?"

   Blaire wished Leo had an off button, though it was a rather rude course of thought. He bubbled on and on in a way that made the girl want to rip her hair out. He was worse than Marlowe, which was saying a whole lot considering she talked a hundred miles per minute.

   Blaire was not a talkative person, she didn't like to use her voice, to put her thoughts into the world. For she was often times ignored when she spoke, which was very seldomly. Leo, however was the opposite. He was seldomly silent. And extremely irritable.

Blaire didn't turn to face him, or even show any signs that she heard him. Until she muttered, "Unfortunately."

"What?" Leo rose an eyebrow.

Blaire only shook her head.

"I'm Leo, by the way," He tried to start up a conversation again. He failed.

"Okay."

Leo had to admit, he thought this Blaire character was rather strange. She didn't say anything too notable, or anything at all, really. And she seemed rather annoyed at the prospect of prancing around the camp and giving Leo a tour like she had something better to do. But, she was so pretty, he could almost overlook the abundance of negative traits she seemingly possessed.

"Who's your parent?" Leo pressed, despite the way she exhaled rather loudly in obvious annoyance each time he spoke.

Blaire hesitated for a second, weighing her next word very carefully, before she softly mumbled, "Hecate."

Leo perked up, "Cool! Are you like, a witch?"

Blaire frowned. "No?"

"Sorry."

"Sword arena," Blaire told him plainly, gesturing toward the large enclosure.

"Awesome," Leo gushed, "Do I get a sword?"

Blaire shrugged, but continued, "Cabin nine kids weld their own."

"Yeah, cabin nine? What's up with that? Vulcan?"

"That's your dad—Hephaestus'—roman title," Blaire said, "we call the god's by their original names. Their greek names."

"Festus?" Leo chuckled. "What is he, the god of cowboys?"

Blaire did not laugh, or even grin. Her stoney facade didn't crack, not for a second.

"He-phaestus," she corrected. "God of blacksmiths and fire. Didn't you hear Annabeth?"

"So the flaming hammer over my head," Leo quiered, "Good or bad thing?"

Blaire tilted her head, then surveyed her surroundings like she was trying to desperately avoid the question. "You were claimed almost immediately. Usually a good thing."