[ the fight leaves him. he no longer wants to toy with her, no longer wants to reminisce on how things used to be. he doesn't fit into those converse shoes anymore. and neither does she, in her combat ones. ]
Then why are you still here?
[ a question for a question. he's not even purposefully trying to rib her into a spurt of anger. if she doesn't care, then why is she here? why does she make such big spectacles whenever the two of them are thrown together in this shitty city? everyone else ignores him — even the gods, and, for once, he's kind of grateful for it. he wonders what would happen if they remembered he was here, of what he had been capable of, of how far his anger had stretched. he sometimes wishes they would notice him. ]
[ but clarisse just wants a fight, as always. she's as predictable as she is unpredictable. he doesn't know if she'll fight with her fists or fight with her words — either way, they're always fighting about something. luke used to find it thrilling, having someone to spar with, verbally and physically, and he used to look forward to talking shit at the ares cabin. but now? with the years stretched between them — and the things they've both said and done, and haven't, as well, he's a little tired of the childish games. spinning around in those circles had been fun when he was sixteen, seventeen, eighteen … but now, at an age he can't remember? ]
no subject
Then why are you still here?
[ a question for a question. he's not even purposefully trying to rib her into a spurt of anger. if she doesn't care, then why is she here? why does she make such big spectacles whenever the two of them are thrown together in this shitty city? everyone else ignores him — even the gods, and, for once, he's kind of grateful for it. he wonders what would happen if they remembered he was here, of what he had been capable of, of how far his anger had stretched. he sometimes wishes they would notice him. ]
[ but clarisse just wants a fight, as always. she's as predictable as she is unpredictable. he doesn't know if she'll fight with her fists or fight with her words — either way, they're always fighting about something. luke used to find it thrilling, having someone to spar with, verbally and physically, and he used to look forward to talking shit at the ares cabin. but now? with the years stretched between them — and the things they've both said and done, and haven't, as well, he's a little tired of the childish games. spinning around in those circles had been fun when he was sixteen, seventeen, eighteen … but now, at an age he can't remember? ]