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

XXXI

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Hello again.

"Why were you being so rude to Calliope?" I asked Ethan. We had been walking in silence for a very long time, and it had been relentlessly on my mind. "She didn't do anything to you."

Ethan clenched his jaw, his dark eyes trained forward. "You must not have much experience with the gods, then." I waited for an answer. "They're not all happy and perfect like everyone probably tells you. They take, and they take, and they take, and they give an eighth as much in return. It's not fair. That's why any time I see a god or hear about one, I'm instantly defensive, because I've been played one too many times."

I looked down. "Like with Nemesis."

"Yeah," Ethan said. "You're too selfless, Suki. It'll only get you hurt."

"You barely know me."

He looked hurt at this comment, and I suddenly remembered that Ethan knew me much better than I knew him. "You were always like that, even as a kid. People took advantage of you for it. Kids knew you'd always share your ice cream, your toys, your space. They'd just start taking it from you because you'd never fight back." He finally looked at me. "You can't let that happen again."

I frowned. "I think there's a difference between being a pushover and being nice."

"Most pushovers are nice. Not all nice people are pushovers."

I didn't really have anything to say to that. There was nothing to say. I consider myself a nice person, but not a pushover. I don't think I'm a pushover. I consider myself friendly and helpful. But, maybe I've just changed since I was a toddler... I'll have to ask my friends about that when I get them back, since I bet they know me a lot better than Ethan does.

"So, what are you gonna do with that thing?" Ethan grunted, shaking his head a bit.

I shrugged, thinking about the writing tablet in my bag. "Write on it, probably. I write a lot."

"What do you write?"

"My diary," I admitted. "Poetry. Sebastian and I are starting to write songs."

"Who is Sebastian?" Ethan asked.

I blinked. "My foster brother." He looked away. "He's almost eighteen. He wants to be a musician when he graduates, but his band fell apart. I helped him with some writing and he really liked it, so now I've kinda joined him. We don't have any full songs yet, but I'm learning how to use some sound software and he's practicing his instrument and singing skills."

"Sounds nice," Ethan asked. "How long have you lived with him?"

"Almost a year or so," I said. "I live with him, his mom Lisa, and her husband Felix. And she's pregnant with twins right now-"

There was a tingling in my stomach, and I stopped walking. I could hear a nearby cheering, and Ethan could hear it as well. He drew his sword and I pulled my dagger, and we put our backs together and carefully began turning clockwise, keeping our eyes open for any sign of danger.

"I don't sense anything particular," Ethan said, "but it's not safe, either."

"Something's very wrong," I agreed. I shined my flashlight on the walls, unable to see anything. "What's the cheering fo-"