¹Pocket Full of Posies.

𝐈𝐗. êta's love (death) trap

pocket full of posies
❛ ix. êta's love trap ❜

━━━━━ JOSEPHINE WOULD'VE LOVED to have some deep philosophical idea about life and death; why the concept of death shapes life and why every action they take is a step closer to death and how they shouldn't fear death because of it—or something like that. All that came out was a long, high-pitched scream. She was sure if the winds weren't carrying her voice away, Percy would have had a pierced eardrum.

The two raced towards the Mississippi River. Josephine tightened her arms around Percy, her hair was whipping around above her head. Percy was cursing loudly, his voice carried above them by the wind. The wind had ripped the air out of Josephine's lungs. Steeples, skyscrapers, and bridges tumbled in and out of her vision.

She knew hitting any water at a great height was like hitting concrete. Josephine knew that. Why Percy ever thought they—or at the very least, Josephine, only a daughter of Apollo—could make out of this alive was astonishing to her.

Josephine sealed her eyes closed. Percy's fingers dug into her side as he tightened his grip. They tensed as they headed for the water. Then, a whiteout of bubbles. The two sank through the murky water, clinging onto each other. They settled at the bottom of the river soundlessly. An extra large catfish lurched away into the gloom.

Maybe the shock of still being alive wore off, but the shock of breathing underwater seemed to smack her in the face. She let go of Percy, ready to swim to shore. The water clung to her immediately, soaking through her clothes, and her hair started floating slightly around her. Bubbles escaped from her nose as she breathed out. Percy still looked completely dry; Josephine squinted in the water, finding the water around Percy's skin looked lighter, the way the water did around hydrophobic things.

She kicked off the ground, swimming for the shore. Once she broke the water, the daughter of Apollo took a huge gasp of air. She pulled herself onto the dirty shore, shivering from the wind blowing past. She sat on the edge, tucking away her two daggers before wringing the water out of her ruined ponytail.

Two pairs of arms grabbed Josephine, pulling her to her feet. Annabeth and Grover were staring at the smoking hole in the Arch.

"What the hell happened up there?" Annabeth demanded, pulling Josephine away from the Mississippi River.

Grover bleated loudly. People were too engrossed in everything else happening they didn't notice the goat sounds.

"Where's Perrrcy?" Grover asked.

Josephine shook the water off her hands, wringing out the bottom of her Camp Half-Blood shirt. "He's still down there."

She looked upward; helicopters surrounded the Arch and the burning building. A large crowd of onlookers had gathered around, pushing and shoving each other to get better looks. Josephine swallowed hard, she hoped those mortals had gotten out before any flames could catch up to them.

Annabeth and Grover led Josephine far away from the river, all hoping nobody would think she was a part of the commotion with a trail of water droplets in her wake. Josephine kept a close eye on the river, looking for any sign of Percy. She craned her neck around the mortals around her when a little girl said loudly, "Mama! That boy walked out of the river!"

The mother didn't believe her daughter. "That's nice, dear." She was too busy craning her neck to watch the ambulances.

"But he's dry!"