𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌, luke castellan

𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈.
please don't ever become a stranger

ᯓᡣ𐭩

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 that the mortal world was much more interesting than the demigod world.

Streams of people passed her by as she sat, holding her now empty mug of hot chocolate. She watched and contemplated about every single person she saw, how they each had their own story, their own troubles and feelings. It fascinated her.

A woman, seemingly only a little bit older than Maisie herself, rushed in, almost stumbling over people in her rush to get her morning coffee. Maisie suspected she was late to a boring corporate job, her business attire giving her away. 

A little further, a teenager sat alone at a table in the corner, hands laced together under it. His eyes constantly wandered to the door, no matter how many times he would draw them away in an attempt to look natural. Perhaps he was waiting for someone, a date even. Young and naive.

Maise wondered how people perceived her, sitting alone at a table with an empty mug, simply staring at passersby. They'd probably think she was a loner who got stood up and had nothing better to do than to analyze others' lives.

Which, to be fair, was basically the truth.

She hadn't seen Luke in weeks. Luke, whom up to this point she'd been seeing almost daily for the entire year. It'd been so long that she had begun to wonder if he had called it quits without telling her.

Which was frankly absurd, how could he end it? Just like that? Every moment they'd shared, every kiss, every date that ended with them tangled in bedsheets, every unspoken 'I love you'.

Could he have not cared?

No, definitely not. He was the one who refused her mother's warnings to stop seeing her. There’s no way he'd chickened out now.

Maisie sighed and gathered her purse, having had enough of the café she'd lingered at for far too long. But before she had the chance to stand up, a new person entered and she caught their eye. Her breath stuttered in her chest.

That familiar curly hair and wicked scar were in full view as the person immediately turned her way, smiling when he spotted her. She couldn't help the small smile in return, which dropped immediately when she remembered how upset she had been mere seconds ago.

He made his way over to her lonely table and took the seat opposite hers, not breaking eye contact for even a moment.

"Where the hell have you been?" Maisie was quick to speak, anger coated her words as Luke made himself comfortable.

"What, not happy to see me?" Luke asked in reply, tilting his head in a teasing manner.

"I would've been a lot happier if this was weeks ago, like we’d planned. You're late.” She crossed her arms, gazing out the windows next to her.

"Hey," he said, suddenly serious. He reached out and took her hand in his.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I've been... way too busy preparing for the Lab— actually, nevermind. I'm sorry."

Maisie had heard his slip up. She didn't mention it, but she'd heard it. She tucked it deep in her brain for later and focused on the current conversation.

"Oh, sure. You couldn't have come to see me once?" she spoke sarcastically, brows furrowed, her grip firm on his hand.

"Things are changing so rapidly, Maisie. It's getting more serious every second. They'd have my head if I screwed up. But I really am sorry." He looked straight into her eyes as he spoke, his thumb softly tracing shapes on her hand. "I thought of you every waking second."

He said that last part quietly, as though it was a tender, fragile thing that would fall over and break if declared to the world. In a way, it was true.

He gave her that look that she was obsessed with. That tender, guardless look that no one else got to see. She would always cave when he gave her that look, every single time. And she couldn’t possibly hold a grudge against him, it simply wasn't in her nature. Not when it came to him.

"Good. I better have been plaguing your dreams," she teased, her lips tugging up into a small, playful smirk.

"Oh, you were," Luke replied, pausing for a moment to just stare at her. From her let-down hair, to her rosy lips, to her exposed neckline. Maisie felt blood gather in her cheeks. Even after all this time, he could still have that effect on her. It was unfair.

"How did you even find me here, are you stalking me?" she asked, trying to shake off the nerves he evoked in her.

"Maybe," Luke admitted, sheepishly. "I could never completely take my eyes off you, Maise.”

Her face annoyingly became flushed again and she urged herself to break eye contact and look elsewhere. All from one single sentence. Who gave him the right?

"What were you doing here alone, anyway?" he asked, cutting the tension that had built up.

Maisie sighed. "People watching."

"What?" Luke frowned, looking more confused than ever. For someone who was planning a war, he could be dense sometimes.

"Looking at people and imagining what their life is like," she explained.

"Oh," he dragged, whipping his head around to take a look at the people that surrounded them. At last, he picked a guy in a simple outfit, jeans and a hoodie,  who looked just as bothered about everything that was happening around him as he'd be about the weather.

"See him?" he asked, subtly pointing at him with his free hand.

Maisie hummed affirmatively and Luke spoke again.

"He looks like an asshole."

Maisie's eyebrows shot up. "Be nice," she warned, keeping her gaze steady on him.

Luke let out a laugh, amused at how easily she could get riled up. Maisie had already forgotten what she was talking to him about.

That laugh, the scratchiness of it was etched in her memory forever, and she felt as if she could recognize it even in a crowded room full of people laughing.

It was like it resided in its own little room inside her and it never planned on leaving.

Maisie allowed her lips to form yet another smile.

"Can I make it up to you?" Luke suddenly asked. Maisie looked up from their conjoined hands to stare at him.

"Depends," she answered.

"On what?" Luke leaned forward.

"What you have in mind." Maisie narrowed her eyes.

Luke's eyes gleamed, and a mischievous smirk covered his face.

"You'll like what I have in mind." He pushed his chair out and stood up, offering Maisie a hand. She gladly took it and let him lead her away, away from the rushed business woman who still hadn’t gotten her coffee, and away from the teenager that she sadly thought might've been stood up.

She would trust him with anything, after all.

───────

dear reader!

credits to the pookie akiaoya for proofreading and editing this 🤍🤍