merciless

PHILIA

03

PETRA is used to attention.

As a goddess of the Underworld, Petra has learned that, basically, she can have any girl she wants. All the nymphs are into the whole bad-girl thing that she gives off, and she drinks them up.

Because of this vast assortment of people and other beings constantly at her will and call, Petra has cultivated quite the taste.

She likes girls that are into flowers and poetry; girls that wish they could bend the wind to their will. She likes girls that are soft and breakable, and she likes breaking them.

It's clear that Andy is not one of those girls.

•••

Even though Petra feels like the ground is shaking when she swings her legs over the bed, she doesn't show it. Unlike the girls she adores so heavily, she cannot be broken. Especially not by such a fragile world as this, with a sun that is young and pale.

Still, she can't stop herself shielding her eyes from the stupid ball of fire in the stupid blue sky. It's all so different and annoying, she wants to scream.

Staring out Andy's bedroom window does nothing but tangle her nerves further, and she is afraid that if she grips onto the window ledge too tight her legs will buckle. So, instead, she runs her claw-like fingernails through her hair with a sigh and opens the door, only to find Andy curled up into a corner of the couch, still asleep.

In the sunlight, Andy looks far from intimidating. Her face is small and round, and her cheeks are full and flushed. Her thick, black eyelashes graze her cheekbones and her dark eyebrows are furrowed. Her arms are wrapped around her waist, her head lolling on her shoulder.

To Petra, she's average looking.

Not wanting to wake the dark-haired assassin, she tiptoes around the apartment. The sunlight tingles on her pale skin almost like warm pinpricks.

In the light, the small one-bedroom apartment looks bigger. The walls don't look as chipped, though they are, and the bloodstains on the floor are almost unnoticed.

For somebody who likes to think they know everything about everything, Petra is extremely insecure in her knowledge of this place. Everything is different and it smells so fresh that it burns her nose. It feels sad and strange and dangerous. Something she used to find attractive, that now defines her.

"Oh, you're awake."

Never in her life has Petra been startled by somebody shorter than her; but when she notices Andy, standing far too close for her liking, she almost jumps out of her skin.

"I-yeah."

The assassin's eyes seem lighter in the day, like silver streaks when she squints them against the sunlight. She cocks her head, her thick, black hair cascading over her shoulder.

"You're not from here, are you?"

Petra freezes. Her fists clench and unclench, and she slowly shakes her head no.

Andy nods, her eyes caught on Petra's silvery skin. She almost can't meet the goddess's piercing blue eyes.

"I figured. Everybody here is so small and timid, but you-" she smiles a bare-toothed smile, putting her hands on her hips-"you aren't. In fact, I think you're the tallest person I've ever seen."

She laughs a little to herself as she walks towards what looks like a small, makeshift kitchen.

"You're like a blonde, blue-eyed breath of fresh air."

Not wanting to seem like a lost duckling, Petra slowly sashays to where Andy is cooking. She feels an urge to make conversation, strange and new.

"So, um, about last night-"

Andy flips her head around to meet Petra's eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I mean, uh, is that like a regular thing for you? Killing?"

The pale girl laughs, waving a spatula around.

"You make it sound so different. I mean, it's not as regular for me as for others, but yeah. It's my job."

They have more in common than Petra originally thought, it seems.

"Well, what about you? Do you work or anything?"

Petra frowns.

"Why would I?"

Before she knows it, Andy's hit her in the head with the spatula.

"To make money? To survive? Or are you just a daddy's girl with a trust fund?"

At the mention of her father, Petra stiffens. They've never seen eye-to-eye, especially when it comes to showing affection. The great and powerful Hades is really a crybaby who takes being a pyromaniac to the next level; Petra is closed off, keeping her emotions far from herself. Only accessing them to attract softer girls who are into that sort of 'let's bare hearts together' thing.

Silence grows in place of an answer, and Andy sighs. Whatever she's cooking sizzles and pops, a soundtrack to newly discovered tension.

"I'm sorry, I just-this isn't the life I originally chose for myself, okay? It's sorta a sensitive topic."

Petra grazes her fingertips over the spot on her forehead where Andy hit her.

It stings.

This is a part one, no worries! This story and Blue Pools are entered in the Watty's 2016, and I'm rlly excited! So if you guys could vote, that'd be phenomenal <3