Petals on The Moon || Reyna Ramirez-Arellano x Fem!OC

XVIII

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Hello again.

Everyone woke up the next morning, commenting how well-rested they felt. I kept my mouth quiet about the whole thing. I didn't want to tell my friends that my nice favor somehow got me baited into making music with my brother. If it even went anywhere.

I was very nervous about the entire thing, and mostly because it meant that my miserable pastime was now being discovered. It was one thing for people to know I write poetry and play keyboard sometimes. It is a different thing for them to see my keyboard playing and listen to my poetry.

Sebastian, luckily, did not say anything at breakfast. Felix cooked us all a big bunch of pancakes with fresh berries. Lisa consumed an alarming amount of whipped cream and blamed it on the pregnancy. Jason and I played a game where we throw blueberries into each other's mouths from a distance, and then Reyna joined in. Interestingly, she is very good at tossing but terrible at catching, whereas I am the opposite. It's like that in school, too. I'm terrible at tossing the ball but excellent at catching, whereas Reyna can toss but not catch.

My friends stayed most of the day. We played games together and hung out in mine and Sebastian's bedroom. He didn't even complain. I think it's funny that he's seventeen but all of his friends are thirteen-year-olds. He set up a really old Wii in the basement and brought down some chairs, so we all played games like Just Dance and Wii Sports. Reyna surprised us all with her dancing skills. Jason was terrible.

"It's the white boy in you," Sebastian said to him, patting him on the back. The scores came in and Jason's were the worst.

He pouted. "My whiteness is always counter-effective."

"You get privilege," Sebastian told him. "And you can go to the south without being called some 1830s-type slurs."

"My dad is Wasian, but really only the eyes," I said, remembering the photo I had seen of Nemesis. "I wonder why I look like my mom if she's a goddess."

"I think I look like my dad," Jason said. "I've never seen him before, though. Or my mom."

Reyna frowned. "Then how you can say that?"

"It's just this feeling," Jason told me. "Sebastian looks like his parents, but Lisa looks a lot like Mars. Look at all the statues."

I looked at Reyna. "I think you look a lot like your mom."

She hesitated. "Is that a compliment?"

"Yes," I said. Bellona is a very beautiful goddess, with a very imposing presence, even when she's been carved into centuries-old marble. Sometimes, when we walk through the gardens, I get to look at Reyna next to a statue of her mom. She looks shockingly similar. I imagine part of her complexion is from her mortal father, yes. I carry traits of my father. But Reyna embodies her mother very fully, in a very great way. She's a strong leader and an astute fighter. Who wouldn't want to resemble that?

Other than my physical appearance, I don't know what about me is akin to my mother. I see her face in the pictures and mine matches it. But is that all? Are my features all I can attribute to my mother? I do not incite the urge for justice in my companions. I am not the bringer of balance and retribution. I do not carry anything of the sort with me. I am me, I am quiet, I am just kind of there.