Before It Dies | Tratie

xi. desolate states (of mind and place)

     a nice long chapter for you folks

     Cadence, daughter of Apollo, looks more like a daughter of Aphrodite than anything else.

     Gods, her hair is literally perfect. Half of it is always braided into a crown at the back of her head, flowing like natural beach waves. It literally looks like someone wove Apollo's sunshine into her locks, it's warm, it's gorgeous.

     Her skin is naturally tanned, tanned in a way that makes it look fake but you know it's real because her skin tone is usually pale in the winter. She has gold eyes that shimmer like the dagger strapped on her hips, a contrast to her smaller-than-mine waist and her body shape isn't bony, it's lean like a runner's body.

     She is a runner too. She runs 5k every morning and does yoga underneath the rising sun with her siblings, then writes gorgeous songs about grass then even more gorgeous songs about random other things. 

     It's almost disgusting how perfect she is and even more disgusting that I'm so envious of her because even with all this perfectness, Cadence, a daughter of Apollo, is so sweet.

     She's like Mother Teresa whose only religion is music and living. 

     I didn't try to hate on pretty girls, so I didn't hate pretty girls.

     But I wanted to hate her so badly.

     I wanted to hate her golden hair. It was messy for the first time, but she looked flawless anyways. Her oversized Camp Half-Blood shirt was untucked in a very awkward way from her overalls, but it did do anything to insult her figure. She was breathing hard but she covered her weariness with a white smile.

     Gods, it was so hard to hate her even as she walked out of the storage room with Travis and it's so painfully obvious to what they've done. Cadence didn't even do anything wrong. She chose to have sex in a closet with a guy who doesn't have any other commitments and she had a right to.

     I wanted to hate her but there was no reason to because the daughter of Apollo wasn't a bitch for fucking him in the closet, I was a bitch for feeling like I was betrayed.

     Travis's hair looked messy too.

     I felt my heart crack a little because usually, that was how it looked after I  kissed him. Though I didn't want just make-outs or the act of pressing against each other furiously, if that was all I could have, I wanted it. Maybe that was why I had clung on after all this time. I wanted to be with him, even if it wasn't serious.

     I was in love, wasn't I?

     She parted in the direction of the stage without noticing and they didn't even say goodbye to each other. That was supposed to make things better, but it didn't. How could I feel better when they barely cared about an action that was clawing at my insides? If this was a real thing between them, I'd know that the hurting was legitimate, but it wasn't.

     His blue eyes wandered around, emotionless, before meeting mine in surprise. My breath caught in my throat for the hundredth time and it took effort not to inhale sharply. He ran his long fingers through his wavy brown locks and his slightly swollen lips parted. 

     This would have been a perfect time to leave.

     Yet trapped in his gaze, I couldn't move an inch. Everything hurt. The way he looked at me, the apologetic look of regret and bitterness was tearing me apart. I suddenly wanted to hug him and forgive him but how could I?

     My fingernails pressed moon-shaped indents in my palm and I felt the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I hadn't even noticed it was there until now. It appeared that I had been chewing vigorously on my lips this whole time.