[2] 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 , p. jackson , j. grace

xiii. most awkward moment of my life pt.1

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ───────────
✧₊˚｡({ MOST AWKWARD MOMENT OF MY LIFE PT.1 })

"  pity party     MELANIE MARTINEZ  "

{ ROMA }
JULY 13TH,  2010
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SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN WHISPERING DEATH threats into the ears of a goddess and the literal embodiment of Night appearing in front of them, Roma finds herself wanting to just go to sleep. To take a long ass nap and hopefully wake up at the end of the fucking world or something. Because how can her luck be so shitty? How can fate think this is funny? She certainly doesn't. If fate was an actual being, she'd smack them in the face and spit out a loud fuck you for good measure.

You want misery? I'll give you fucking misery, you bitch.

Roma can't believe she had the nerve to talk to a goddess like that. Even the thought has her shuddering. If her luck was bad before it'll be nothing compared to what will come after killing Akhlys.

The truth is she's fucking terrified. No demigod in history has ever killed a god. Well, by killed she means scattered their remains into oblivion. Or some shit like that. Because gods can't die. They're Immortal with a capital I. It's a fact. But they can be defeated. Their souls incinerated into nothing. That's what Akhlys is now. An incinerated soul. Roma fears for what is to come as she stares into Night's army of dark creatures.

More gods, demons, and arai. Out of every terrifying being in the crowd, the arai is what scares her the most. She glances at the boy beside her. She doesn't want him to forget again. Just the thought makes her sick with anxiety. With pain and exhaustion.

You failed them. Left them to die.

Roma tries to control her breathing. But inches closer to Percy anyway. Riptide hasn't returned to his pocket yet. Or maybe he's forgotten all about his sword. She would too if it was just a pen sitting in her pocket.

I'm not a failure. I'm . . . not.

You still left her there to die. She still cursed you and knew the power behind her words. And then he forgot about you. Are you even worth remembering? He remembered Annabeth even with amnesia bestowed upon him by the Queen of the gods. He didn't remember you.

Percy's hand brushes against the small of her back through her drakon leather shirt. It's like he senses her thoughts running wild. When he looks at her, she thinks of his promise. His promise that he'd never forget her again. He'd swore on the River Styx. That meant something. Something she's reluctantly grateful for. Even if it is kind of selfish.