pjo gay fluff

p i p a b e t h

^play song while reading (if you'd like idc but i like the song)

march to the sea

p i p e r 

I had nowhere in particular to go. I let my feet carry me and found myself in front of the beach. 

The beach I promised I'd never go back to. 

I went in against all my good reasoning and sat down right at the shoreline. I hugged my knees close to my chest and rocked back and forth.

Back.

and.

Forth.

I let the cold September wind whip my hair all around my head, because why the hell not?

I had no care in the world. 

I must've stayed there for hours watching the waves crash down, people come and go. It was nearly 7:00 when I realized there was only one girl left. 

She sat there in her grey hoodie, her blonde hair whipping around while she read a book, her intelligent grey eyes scanning the pages. 

She looked up and caught me staring. I blushed and turned back to the sea, where I could sit and stare for the rest of my days. 

I put in my headphones and plugged it into my phone. 

I put on March to the Sea and waited there. I didn't notice or hear my own heart-wracking sobs. 

This had been his favorite song.

My father, Tristan McLean.

And hear a voice inside my head.

Follow me instead.

His favorite quote. 

He said to always listen to yourself. Hear you before you hear anyone else.

But I hadn't heard him. 

The sobs only came down harder when it began to rain. I didn't hear the girl, but I felt a warm arm around me and saw her sit down beside me. I took off my headphones and placed them around my neck.

"Are you ok?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Honestly, I don't know," I say wiping the tears off my face hastily. 

"We've all been there. But if you want to talk, I'm right here," 

"O-Ok," I hear myself say.

She hugged me and we stayed and watched the rain pour down around us.

"Two years," I say.

"What?" she asks, confused.

"It's been exactly two years," I say and the tears start to fall again.

"Two years since what?" she asks.

"Since he died here, and it's all my fault," I say, my tears falling faster and faster, blurring my vision. 

"Who died?"

"My father. Tristan McLean. And it's all my fault." I say, my voice filled with anger and regret.

"It's not your fault. It may seem like it, but trust me it's not. We always look for someone to blame because we can't handle the pain."

"But it is. Me and my father came here to surf. To escape reality. But it wasn't enough for me. He always had to work and never had time for me," I said, the rain starting to fall heavier. "I hated him for it, and I know I shouldn't have but I did. So I canceled all his plans so it made it seem like he was free. I convinced him to come surfing. It started to rain, but I wanted to surf anyways. I got tired so I sat down but my dad didn't. He caught a wave, but I turned my head to watch a seagull trying to steal a bag of chips. Stupid, I know," I laughed shakily. "I look back and he's not there. He tried calling for me but I didn't hear. They never even found the body," I said wiping away more tears.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I know that sorry never helps. Why don't you come over to my house for the night? I live right by here,"

I looked into her eyes and I could tell that she didn't want to hurt me. I accepted and we walked off into the night. 

I'll follow you instead.

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sorry it was sad

but it was cute

what ship should i do next

~spacegirl~