" heh, you know... the more i think about it— you and i aren't so different. " u didnt ask for this but :-)
percy’s tired. he’s beyond tired of having to leave garreg mach on account of this emergency or that –– assassins and thieves after his father catching wind of him have way too much time on their hands. it’s barely been a couple years since poseidon up and decided it was time to stop being such a deadbeat, though only to define it in a different way. ( being completely absent to standing as a threat to everything good in percy’s life isn’t exactly the answer to the questions he’d been looking for –– but hey, one heroes relic and a whole lot of new friends later –– he doesn’t have that many regrets.
that is to say… he doesn’t regret what’s brought him where he is now. )
he’s kicking his legs by the docks next to claude von riegan, who sports a name percy’s heard backwards and forwards. rumors of all kinds surround him. he’s too laidback, too clever, too much of this or that or whatever the new bundle of nerves nobles have for the week. ( save for the fact that percy doesn’t care about rumors or reputations. he doesn’t trust a thing the folks with money and power say about anybody. and sure, maybe claude’s come into both of those things as head of the golden deer, but he doesn’t strike percy as the type who’s always had it, much less the type to misuse it. )
and if percy’s nothing else, at least he’s a decent judge of character.
uh, except for maybe, self-assessments. because he has half a mind to laugh under his breath and warn claude to rethink every word that came out of his very pretty mouth. “the more you think about it?” does that mean he’s been thinking about what they have in common lately? percy tips his head in the opposite direction; the tips of his ears burn. he kind of wants to warn claude. but there’s that slight laugh, and that smile, too.
he doesn’t want to ruin this, like he does so much else.
“don’t think too hard. you’ll get lost in there.” percy ruffles a hand through his own mess of hair –– the light smell of sea-salt, somehow.
claude’s so smart. he’s good with words. he knows what to do in times of crisis. but he’s smart enough for percy to not want to argue with him. ( much as those three things feel like percy’s direct antithesis, still… )
a chuckle follows suit. he smiles because it’s hard to believe this is all real. percy’s pulse breaks into a run; his heart could make a tsunami with the rest of his rushing blood. “er… hey. this might not make a lot of sense, but i’ve been to a couple different schools before this one.” ones he was kicked out of, for gods know what. there’s so much more to say, but his tongue is tangling. “it’s been a weird go of it. it’s just like, been a lot of time where i have to figure things out all over again. and start over.” and not always for the best. “but this place –– this house –– you,” in truth, he doesn’t mean to get so specific. the words fall apart before he can stop them.
“it sort of feels like i’m where i’m supposed to be. and if we’re alike, like you say…” impossible, his mind supplies, but he smiles, crookedly. there’s a couple things he’s noticed, too. why else would they get on so well? ( somewhere between laughter and conviction, he guesses, they meet in the middle. ) “that’s probably got something to do with it. and to be totally honest with you, i don’t know how i’d be dealing with the rest of this stuff without… um, you know. you do a lot.”
uh oh. “thanks. that’s all.” he ducks his head, averts his eyes, watches his knuckles pale where his hands grip beneath him. “thanks, man.”
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