*ೃ༄ Love wasn't her thing.
One could laugh at the irony of that statement. The daughter of Aphrodite, the literal goddess of love, not knowing HOW to love. She didn't despise love, nor hated it. She just found it confusing and quite peculiar.
She s...
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・❥・
SONG QUOTE:the alternative by lyn lapid
Since I found myself another halfPart of me says, "Don't get too attached"What if time's gonna number our days?Guess my heart's gonna break, either wayLove is a riskBut what's the alternative?Maybe sleeping at night all aloneGoing it all on my own
—
Aphrodite.
Goddess of love and beauty.
Mother of (y/n) (l/n) and many, many more..
(y/n) never knew much of her mother, but she remembers the stories her father would tell her of her. (y/n) didn't even know she was a half-blood.
Half-blood. She thought to herself, the word repeating in her head.
No one had warned her of the danger that lurked once it caught scent of her. She knew something was wrong with her brain, but she had no idea it was a huge deal.
She sat there, in the cabin of Hermes, in the corner. She picked at the bits of dirt in her nails as she drifted off in thought.
Her mind wandered to that day, playing like a broken record, over and over again. Even in her dreams.
She was so young. Barely ten years old.
She remembers being at church with her father when it happened. One of the sisters got too close to her. The more she inched towards her, the more the sister revealed her true self.
(y/n) still felt shivers down her spine as she recalled the incident.
Wings large enough to engulf and suffocate you to death, claws as long as your torso. She shuddered and shut her eyes to move past that part. She knew she wasn't a fighter, she never was. Fear always took ahold of her somehow, but she knew being a half-blood means it's an ESSENTIAL to know the basics of fighting.
Her father grabbed her before she could even react. (y/n) still remembers the weird looks that were given to both of them. He somehow met up with a familiar and well-trusted satyr, who then took her Camp Half-blood. (y/n) doesn't know what happened to her dad, but she is repeatedly told that he is safe and alive.
But she never saw him again.
(y/n) was pulled out of her thoughts. She's hooked her head, not wanting to return to those times. She dusted herself as she got up and decided to finally start off her day.
Archery was one of the girl's hobbies. Something she was good at.
Because of that, she was given the nickname Cupid by some of her piers. She found it ironic thinking her personality didn't really take herself as the affectionate type. Most would describe her as cold and self reserved. But despite keeping a low profile, she was the name that was on everyone's tongues.
By simply walking by, arguments would turn into compliments, foes would turn into friends, friends may even become lovers. Some girls would turn to her for relationship advice, or advice on how to attract guys. She refused to believe them when they told her a lot of guys are interested in her.
She mentally slapped herself back to the present. These thoughts have been getting out of hand. She closed one of her eyes as she took aim for the heart of the dummy.
She focused, tuning everything out.
Her eyebrows furrowed as the thoughts tried poking at her again.
She radiated that anger into her performance as she finally released, those thoughts along with it.
She heard slow clapping from behind her as she turned.
"Pretty neat, (y/n). As always."
The girl sighed before lowering her guard. "Good morning, Annabeth."
Annabeth walked towards her, arms crossed as her eyes were kept on the ground. (y/n) observed her actions before Annabeth made eye contact with her. "Something's wrong. Tell me, what?"
(y/n) reached for another arrow from behind her, getting into stance. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"Mhm.. I've known you long enough to see right through you. It's the dreams, isn't it?"
The other girl blew a loose strand of hair away from her face. "If you've known me long enough, you'd know that those dreams don't bother me."
"C'mon, (y/n), I know you're lying."
She released the arrow as a groan escaped her lips. She hates being read like an open book, and Annabeth knows that. "You got me," (y/n) started, "I don't know... they don't feel like dreams. More like memories i'd rather not remember anymore." She lowered her bow as she faced her dark haired friend. "Something's gonna happen today, Beth. I don't know whether good or bad, but i just have that gut feeling. Ever get those?"
Annabeth let out a small sigh that went unnoticed by her friend. She patted (y/n) on the back before leaving the scene.
(y/n) rolled her shoulders, grabbing a lighter and lighting her own arrow on fire.
Pull.
Breath.
Release.
Archery was like journaling to her, a constant routine of hers, pouring her feelings into it before letting it go and moving on.
Annabeth hadn't gotten too far when she saw something floating above (y/n)'s head.
A rose glowed bright from above her, (y/n) looked up in pure amazement.
