Glad we got that sorted. [ he says it, sarcastically, loud enough for her to hear, if she chooses to do so. he shakes his head. clarisse is a whirlwind he can't quite get control of. one moment, she's soft and pliable, and the next, she's making demands of him. she's confusing, more than she had been at camp. there were lines drawn there. all the cabins had friendly rivalries, always wanting to be the best, always wanting bragging rights. it doesn't set anyone up for the real world. out here, there's nothing like that. there's no home, there's no familiarity, there's no warm hearth to sit around and laugh at dumb jokes and campfire stories. ]
[ they'd been in their own safe little bubble at camp half-blood. the real world is one big, scary place. and luke wonders if he has ever been truly ready for it. ]
We've got to make a left. [ rather than take hold of her hand, as he's sure she'll snap it right off with how angry she simply is around him right now, he chooses to verbalise it. it'd be easier if he could just guide her, with a hand to the small of her back or an arm looped through hers. but touching clarisse is like touching fire. he's not beckendorf, who can work at the forges and withstand the heat; he'll get burned. ]
[ he comes to stop at the end of the sidewalk, waiting at the traffic lights. he glances in her direction to make sure she's near him — beside him, behind him, just near him — for when the pedestrian sign pops on, he's walking. ]
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[ they'd been in their own safe little bubble at camp half-blood. the real world is one big, scary place. and luke wonders if he has ever been truly ready for it. ]
We've got to make a left. [ rather than take hold of her hand, as he's sure she'll snap it right off with how angry she simply is around him right now, he chooses to verbalise it. it'd be easier if he could just guide her, with a hand to the small of her back or an arm looped through hers. but touching clarisse is like touching fire. he's not beckendorf, who can work at the forges and withstand the heat; he'll get burned. ]
[ he comes to stop at the end of the sidewalk, waiting at the traffic lights. he glances in her direction to make sure she's near him — beside him, behind him, just near him — for when the pedestrian sign pops on, he's walking. ]