"Are you even hearing yourself right now? This is why we believe you're fully competent for this initiative. Whatever you've gone through has been training you for these moments. You don't ever stop fighting, there's always another threat. A threat...
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"Grab those beers in the fridge and put them in the chilly bin, princess!" my father shouted from the front of the restaurant.
"Okay!" I exclaimed, tying my hair into a ponytail to stop it sticking to the fine line of sweat that had formed on my forehead from the merciless sun.
Getting back to normal after the attack on New York wasn't exactly how I thought it would be. Every single tourist that came into the restaurant (since it was holiday season) had asked for a photo and I was incredibly flattered but it was just a tad overwhelming, well, maybe more than a tad. The villagers' attitudes towards me had hardly shifted though, perhaps they had been slightly cautious after I first got back but after these few days, everything had been fairly customary.
After popping the beers into the box, I gripped the handle and headed outside.
"We're meeting them there, right?" I asked as he locked up the restaurant.
"Yeah, Theodore told me they just left," he said, picking up the basket from the floor. We were finally having the day at the beach with my father's partner and his daughter which they had been waiting to have since before I left for the mission. "Just promise me you'll play nice with Ophelia."
"Me? Play nice? Father, I'm almost 26, you know I won't say anything, even if she makes me want to bash my bottle against my head," I argued as we set off down the mountain for the short walk towards the beach.
"I know that but you can never be too careful," he shrugged.
"You know I'd do anything for you. Plus, I don't want to make you look bad in front of Theodore," I said bumping his shoulder.
"Sure you don't," he scoffed, pointing to his hair.
"That is not my fault! You insisted that I gave you a haircut when the shop was shut!" I said in defense.
"I didn't think you'd be this bad!"
"You knew I didn't have any experience!" I laughed and opened the basket to pull out my sun hat, "There, now you can't complain."
"Stefanos! Is that Selene's hat?" my father said, mimicking Theodore's voice.
"Oh, come on," I complained, rolling my eyes.
"You know that I'll keep on grumbling until it grows back," he said, fixing the hat on his head.
"I know," I chuckled.
With the sun beating on our heads, we arrived at the beach, a picture right out of a vintage photograph. I let the sand, the most gentle hue of gold, curl in between my toes as I took off my sandals. The cool water roared and rolled, crashing onto the shore with a soft hiss as children ran from it's spray. Sandcastles lined the beach as families flocked under large, iridescent umbrella's to shield from the sun.
