they say we must be high when we're spreading love [ petara ]
Peter watched as Michael twirled in the tall wheat grass, smoking a cigarette between his lips and threading tiny white clovers into a crown. The younger boy spread his arms as he spun, throwing his brunette head back in laughter before casting a look at his brother.
"Having fun?" Peter chuckled, removing his cigarette from his lips and holding it between his fingers. Michael nodded enthusiastically, bending down to caress the petals of a daisy that craned its face towards the brilliant sun. "This campus is pretty nice, I guess."
And it was. Walt sat squat on the coast of France. The old brick building towered high into the blue skies, surrounded by thick green fields where the students could hang out. To Peter, it looked like the perfect place for a sesh or a party, or possibly even some lovemaking.
Peter lifted his head up from his observations, his fingers returning his cigarette to his mouth and expertly finishing off his crown. He placed the woven flowers atop his ginger curls. The action made him think momentarily of Wendy, and his heart ached with how much he missed her, that he was here at this dumb school with out his best friend. He shook off the thought; it was better for her that he’d left. He righted his train of thought and grinned at Michael, who grinned back with his dimpled smile. Then, the boy took off running.
"Michael!" Peter shouted, standing up as well. His younger brother looked back at him, beckoning him into the chase. Peter huffed out his name again, amusement clear in his voice. "Michael!"
The ginger boy leaped into a sprint, cackling out a laugh as he ran after his brother.
Walking about the football field behind the school, Meg anxiously took drag after drag of her cigarette. The air was cold and crisp around her as she slowly took her time crossing the field that appeared to be in desperate need of a mowing. Her mind going in several different directions. It went from her mistake with Hades and trying to win back her life to how she had met Hercules. Her heart ached at the thought of the golden haired wonder. How her betrayal to not only him, but herself as well, and now to Hades, had left her with no other choice than to run away from her old life.
Now, as she stopped momentarily, Meg thought only of Hades. How she had ran into him in the halls and how the only thought she could muster was how to, once again, escape him. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be apart of her lie anymore. This was supposed to be a clean slate for her. Where she could start over, get a fresh start and finally live her life. But he was here. And her life, she suspected, was to become a pawn in his schemes and be his little Nutmeg again.
It was a miserable existence. To have someone only pay you mind because you were nice to look at and had a pretty face. But her thoughts were put to an end as a boy with ginger hair collided in her path. Sending them both cascading to the ground with a thump.
