[ the fire in clarisse's eyes dies down, no longer a raging inferno, but something more akin to a campfire, something both of them can relate to. camp had brought them together, once. she knows luke will never return to camp half-blood, but the warmth of the atmosphere, of friends and family alike, shines in her eyes. she's seen luke in so many different lights today, isn't quite sure which one this is.
he towers over her — only by a few inches, but still enough to be intimidating — and she holds her ground, lets his words pierce through her armor, the vehemence in his voice like poison slowly corroding her defenses. she's still angry, but not enough to bite back. there's still time to fix this, even if fixing a situation with luke castellan is the last thing she'd ever imagine herself doing. ]
I don't. [ it's quiet as much as it is true. she doesn't have a problem with him being around, not really. it's just an act, a defensive maneuver set in place for when he gets too close — she lets him get too close — and she panics; her fear of letting people in and facing her feelings has always been one of her greatest downfalls. then, just to clarify: ] Not anymore. [ she hesitates, looking him over as if she's trying to find something she lost. it's a futile effort, because she knows — she knows the old luke castellan is gone. she's seen it, she's experienced it, even if he pretends and puts up a mask of his old self, it isn't there anymore. not really. that part of him died with kronos. ] You've changed. [ it isn't forgiveness, not exactly, but it's something. ]
[ she's changed, too, literally, emotionally, mentally. she can understand how percy and annabeth and chris and silena all forgave him, but it's still too big of a leap for her to take in one day. he's already started to change her mind, just by doing all of this, for not putting up with her just putting up with him, for finally pushing back and calling her out on the things she's too afraid to admit. whether she realizes it or not, this is what she's been looking for all these years — of course it would be a son of hermes who would deliver it to her. ]
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he towers over her — only by a few inches, but still enough to be intimidating — and she holds her ground, lets his words pierce through her armor, the vehemence in his voice like poison slowly corroding her defenses. she's still angry, but not enough to bite back. there's still time to fix this, even if fixing a situation with luke castellan is the last thing she'd ever imagine herself doing. ]
I don't. [ it's quiet as much as it is true. she doesn't have a problem with him being around, not really. it's just an act, a defensive maneuver set in place for when he gets too close — she lets him get too close — and she panics; her fear of letting people in and facing her feelings has always been one of her greatest downfalls. then, just to clarify: ] Not anymore. [ she hesitates, looking him over as if she's trying to find something she lost. it's a futile effort, because she knows — she knows the old luke castellan is gone. she's seen it, she's experienced it, even if he pretends and puts up a mask of his old self, it isn't there anymore. not really. that part of him died with kronos. ] You've changed. [ it isn't forgiveness, not exactly, but it's something. ]
[ she's changed, too, literally, emotionally, mentally. she can understand how percy and annabeth and chris and silena all forgave him, but it's still too big of a leap for her to take in one day. he's already started to change her mind, just by doing all of this, for not putting up with her just putting up with him, for finally pushing back and calling her out on the things she's too afraid to admit. whether she realizes it or not, this is what she's been looking for all these years — of course it would be a son of hermes who would deliver it to her. ]