𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | pjo

seven

lyla lay on her back, staring at the mattress of the bed above her. no matter how hard she tried, sleep continued to evade her just as much as she avoided her responsibilities. 

ugh. 

the train rocking along the tracks provided soothing background noise, and their compartment was quiet, which should have led to a good night's sleep in a proper bed, right?

wrong. 

lyla was about to try to go back to sleep, when a voice penetrated the darkness. 

"hey, you asleep?" 

she rolled onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow. "yeah, duh." 

"you aren't actually on bad terms with your dad, right?" percy asked.

lyla hesitated, before answering. "we weren't on bad terms. we were really, really close." 

"what was he like?" 

"why?"

"because i upset you when i mentioned him, and i shouldn't have gone that far. i'm sorry." for some reason, he sounded really worried about the fact that he had upset her. 

"he was... he was very kind. he never patronised me or acted condescending towards me. he treated me like an actual human, with personality and thoughts." lyla sighed. "and he always believed in me. whenever i got a bad grade, or did anything to disappoint him, he would never get mad—he'd just say to me, 'it's okay, and i believe in you that you're going to do better'. but i never did. i never got better. if anything, i got worse." 

percy was silent for a moment. "i think if he could see you right now, he'd be really proud of you." 

"would he though?" lyla scoffed bitterly. "the only reason i always say that i'm a personality hire is because i'm scared of what i can actually do, and how that's going to affect the people i care about, so i just act like a total airhead because it's easier to do that than hurt other people again. and i've started believing that the only thing to me is my appearance because that's what other people think too. if he could see me, he wouldn't be proud." 

"he would be proud," percy insisted. "he'd be proud when you rejected medusa's offer. he'd be proud when you saved my life from that fury. and..." he paused for a moment. "i might not have met him, but i know that he'd be proud of the way you act towards and treat people you care about." 

lyla sighed. "i don't know, though. because if i care about someone, i care too much and i can't help but push them away." 

"you haven't pushed me away yet, though." 

there was a beat of silence between them. 

"yes, i have. if you don't think i have, i will—i always do." she laughed softly. "but then again, i'm playing the victim in my head, but it's me who's been making the bed." 

"lyla. everyone on this quest would probably be dead without you. like how you handled the medusa thing? that was amazing. you have more potential than you give yourself credit for... if only you could see yourself the way i—" he caught himself. freudian slip. "the way we all see you." 

"thank you," lyla said softly. "and i'm not mad at you. it's just weird talking about him because he's sort of, you know, in the past tense." she paused. "he drowned around three years ago when he was on a cruise. that's when i sort of developed a water and boat phobia, you know what i mean?

"and the ironic thing was that he drowned to save a woman he fell in love with during the cruise. he drowned for the sake of love, and my mother is the goddess of love. funny, isn't it?" she scoffed.