─── ･ ｡♡ ･
❛ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃.
I don't even think that you care like I do.
I should stop; Heaven knows I've tried .❜
A half-god-would-be-god falls in love with a mortal.
It could...
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THERE WAS SOMETHING—OFF ABOUT THE STUFFED HEAD MOUNTED ON THE WALL.
Although Wilmarie knew better, it seemed as though the leopard's eyes were following her every step as she moved around the massive living room of the Big House. The feeling of being watched made her uncomfortable, as if she were an intruder in someone else's home, even though Chiron had invited her to sit on the vibrant, funky-patterned couch while he went to retrieve the first aid kit from his office.
It wasn't just the taxidermy animal that felt strange, though; everything about Camp Half-Blood was freakish.
The creek water was almost too clear, like it was up to something with the way it reflected the sunlight from above. The leaves clung stubbornly to the branches, even as the wind whipped through the trees, and when Wilmarie swung at some blonde girl who'd stormed over to yell at Percy—yeah, she was mad at him, but she had made a promise ages ago: no one would ever raise their voice at Percy around her again—the whole camp froze.
Every camper turned to stare, eyes wide, like they were waiting for Wilmarie to either burst into flames or transform into some sort of demon. It was like the tension had turned into a giant, invisible boulder, squashing everyone beneath its massive weight as Wilmarie stood her ground, fists clenched at her sides, while Percy, in full damage-control mode, tried to calm down an Annabeth or whatever before things got any worse.
One thing was clear: Percy definitely shouldn't have brought Wilmarie here.
The director seemed to be in agreement, no matter how kind he tried to appear as he approached Wilmarie. As the man wheeled closer to the couch where he had beckoned her to sit, he still couldn't quite manage a smile. He reached out for her arm and asked, "May I?"
Wilmarie eyed him with suspicion. She'd heard enough stories about priests and older men to be cautious. "What is your name?" She asked with a scowl. "Where did Percy go? He doesn't like people yelling at him, you know? So, I won't apologize for trying to hit that girl if that's why you brought me here. She should have known better than to bark at others."
For some odd reason, the director's expression softened as he replied, "My name is Chiron, young one. I oversee the activities here at Camp Half-Blood. Percy has stepped away to discuss some pressing issues with another counselor. Fear not, for he shall return ere long."
Ere long, Wilmarie repeated to herself with incredulity.
Did Percy join some cult of yore or whatever the fuck they call it?
