"He deserved more than that. More than a chapter, more than entire epics, he deserved to live, the Fields of Asphodel will never deserve someone as devoted and good as him. He lived for justice, he died for justice, but I would throw that justice at...
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Family Problems
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
The doorbell rung at five o'clock sharp.
My hair was still moist from the shower I'd taken, and I'd just finished getting dressed. I'd worn a simple black crop, styled with some loose brownish cargos. I took a look at myself at the mirror, before running out the house and down the stairs.
I'd told Alastor to stay with Nico, who left the house after I returned with the stuff I'd bought. Everything was taken care of now, and Nico would go off to find someone to come with us.
I'd taken into consideration what Rachel told me, and I'd decided to simply ignore her. Connor Stoll owed me nothing. I owed him shit, at most. He shouldn't put his neck on the line for me... But I knew he would, if I asked him to. Therefore, I'd come to the conclusion that all would be easier if I didn't tell him about it.
In fact, I didn't even tell Nico about my encounter with Rachel Dare: it wouldn't make a difference. If she was all that prophetic, it wouldn't affect the people he chose. It would go down the way the gods wanted it to.
I opened the main door, and Connor stood there, with a grin that seemed to tear open his face out of sheer excitement. He looked decent, and his katana hung by his belt, golden ornamental lines glowing against the brownish black of the sheathe.
"Connor, hey." I greeted, as I stepped down to the sidewalk. "How's shit?"
"Shit's great!" he exclaimed, plunging his arms up as if he was talking to the gods. "Everything is awesome, so awesome, so amazing."
"Awesome!" I chuckled, closing the door behind me. He practically jumped, as if he couldn't stay put for another second.
I made sure the door was locked, and then I turned to look at his big blue eyes.
"Where to, oh captain, my captain?"
"Oh, dead poet society reference! I love that movie, gods." he said, before pointing to his left. "Uh, that way."
We walked, chit-chatting about movies and people. Talking with him came naturally to me, each word became casual in his hyperactive smile. I mentioned Alastor to him, and he had no less than 23 questions, which seemed suspiciously planned, but I knew he was just a fast thinker.
Eventually, the inevitable ice-breaking question came up.
"So, what have you been up to?" he asked, after an unreasonable laughing crisis that followed a half-bad joke made by me.
"Not much, not much." I shrugged, as he signaled that we were supposed to cross the road. "Nico is like, my flatmate?"
Connor raised his eyebrows as we waited before the crossroad.
