𝗟𝗔 𝗩𝗜𝗘 𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘 ━━ apollo.
❝ He helps her out of the car with a movement so smooth it feels like they're dancing, and Hyacinth feels vaguely ridiculous━like a princess pulled from a fairytale she never signed up for.
"And tell me, beautiful orangehead, what's your name?"
She lets go of his hand the moment her feet touch the ground, stepping back, discomfort crawling up the back of her neck. A sharp no thanks is ready on the tip of her tongue.
But as with everything else that's happened in the last few hours, things don't go according to plan.
"Hyacinth Olofsson!"
Hyacinth exhales through her nose and closes her eyes. Of course. Of course he had to show up now.
She recognizes that voice instantly. That tone. That way of saying her name like he's about to list all her questionable life choices in chronological order.
It's as familiar as the whip that usually coils around her wrist and the defensive sarcasm that runs in her veins.
"Oh, no..." she mutters as she turns to where the trees part, revealing a broad-shouldered figure with a serious face, a javelin at his side and an ax at his hand, leaning against the first tree like he's been waiting for her half his life.
But before she leaves behind the golden god and his equally golden car, she remembers something: manners. Manners, Cinth. Her dad had been very clear about that. Doesn't matter if the god in question has radioactive smiles or hints at eternal debts━you say thank you.
With effort, she turns back toward Apollo and says, with all the dignity her empty stomach and residual social shame allow:
"Thank you for bringing us back to camp, " she says firmly, giving him a slight nod.
But Apollo doesn't seem to hear her.
His gaze is still fixed on her, like he just solved some ancient equation carved into the stars.
"Hyacinth?" he repeats, his voice barely more than a whisper on the breeze. There's something in his tone that makes her frown. It's not flirtation. Not this time. It's something else. Recognition, maybe. A memory. Or... a mistake.
The look in his eyes is unsettling, like he's seeing through her instead of at her━like there's something burning behind the usual godly charm, something older than sunbeams and faster than light.
She doesn't wait for an answer. Or an explanation.
Hyacinth doesn't have time for divine mysteries. Her stomach is growling like a sea monster, the most unbearable son of Ares on the planet is calling her name again, and honestly, she's out of energy for any more enigmas. ❞
#xybca #fanfiction #ao3fanfiction #fictionalcharacters #hyacintholofsson #wattpadfanfic #camphalfblood #originalcharacters #demeterchild #demigods #percyjacksonandtheolympians #ocdemigod #apollopjo #lavieenrose #lavieenrosefanfic #lavieenrosewp #fyp #xybca #parati #percyjacksonbooks #pjoau
"And tell me, beautiful orangehead, what's your name?"
She lets go of his hand the moment her feet touch the ground, stepping back, discomfort crawling up the back of her neck. A sharp no thanks is ready on the tip of her tongue.
But as with everything else that's happened in the last few hours, things don't go according to plan.
"Hyacinth Olofsson!"
Hyacinth exhales through her nose and closes her eyes. Of course. Of course he had to show up now.
She recognizes that voice instantly. That tone. That way of saying her name like he's about to list all her questionable life choices in chronological order.
It's as familiar as the whip that usually coils around her wrist and the defensive sarcasm that runs in her veins.
"Oh, no..." she mutters as she turns to where the trees part, revealing a broad-shouldered figure with a serious face, a javelin at his side and an ax at his hand, leaning against the first tree like he's been waiting for her half his life.
But before she leaves behind the golden god and his equally golden car, she remembers something: manners. Manners, Cinth. Her dad had been very clear about that. Doesn't matter if the god in question has radioactive smiles or hints at eternal debts━you say thank you.
With effort, she turns back toward Apollo and says, with all the dignity her empty stomach and residual social shame allow:
"Thank you for bringing us back to camp, " she says firmly, giving him a slight nod.
But Apollo doesn't seem to hear her.
His gaze is still fixed on her, like he just solved some ancient equation carved into the stars.
"Hyacinth?" he repeats, his voice barely more than a whisper on the breeze. There's something in his tone that makes her frown. It's not flirtation. Not this time. It's something else. Recognition, maybe. A memory. Or... a mistake.
The look in his eyes is unsettling, like he's seeing through her instead of at her━like there's something burning behind the usual godly charm, something older than sunbeams and faster than light.
She doesn't wait for an answer. Or an explanation.
Hyacinth doesn't have time for divine mysteries. Her stomach is growling like a sea monster, the most unbearable son of Ares on the planet is calling her name again, and honestly, she's out of energy for any more enigmas. ❞
#xybca #fanfiction #ao3fanfiction #fictionalcharacters #hyacintholofsson #wattpadfanfic #camphalfblood #originalcharacters #demeterchild #demigods #percyjacksonandtheolympians #ocdemigod #apollopjo #lavieenrose #lavieenrosefanfic #lavieenrosewp #fyp #xybca #parati #percyjacksonbooks #pjoau
original sound - ihugz !!
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