l e g e n d
maliacashe:
Malia couldn’t believe her eyes. She watched the fireworks sparkle in the sky with a combination of confusion, amusement, and a nagging fear. Should she be worried? Was this a warning or sign? She took a moment to acknowledge how fucked it was that her knee-jerk reaction to fireworks is danger, then started walking closer to the source.
They were impressive, a calling back to the easy summer days of years ago, when there was less to worry about and Malia could actually enjoy the sight of fireworks in the sky. She frowned; there was a reason she kept these memories tucked away. It was too painful to let her thoughts wander in that direction. Now she wanted to tell off whoever set these up. She kept walking.
But she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the ghost of Maverick Lane walking toward her, his signature triumphant grin plastered across his face. She stared and stared and realized that it wasn’t a ghost but the real, flesh and bone son of Hermes. Malia couldn’t believe her eyes. Her face drained of all color. “Mav?” she asked in disbelief, afraid if she trusted what she was looking at too quickly that it would all go away. “Holy fuck, Maverick Lane?”
As each new burst of sparks filled the sky, it filled Maverick with a sense of glee which was only aided by being slightly tipsy. All in all, he couldn’t think of a better self-made homecoming and as he headed further into the Camp and passed by newer Campers he couldn’t place who were starstruck by the lights in the sky, while others he chose to blissfully ignore their slightly more wincing reactions, since it would of meant recalling the very same event he tried to keep at arms length in his mind. However, while he knew it was entirely likely, he didn’t expect that happenstance would work in such a way that the more than familiar form of Malia Cashe was already making her was across the expanse of grass he’d now wandered onto.
As she approached, he tried to understand the sensations within him that resembled the floor of his stomach falling out from under him mixed with the cheesy twirls of imaginary butterflies. It was actually almost enough to earn a frown from Mav thanks to the handful of good memories along with the ones easily classified as bad that had surfaced as the beautiful young woman drew closer. In fact, a good deal of his several month binge of partying, cons, and other schemes back home had all helped him keep his mind off the track of even thinking about, gods forbid overthinking, the last conversation they had and the breakup that had preceded it. Luckily, Maverick had a penchant for keeping the past in the past, at least for a little while. That and it helped to distract the nineteen year old when Malia’s expression registered in his mind and in turn his eyebrow cocked just as she spoke. “ Hey, now. I accept Maverick Fuckin’ Lane or even... Maverick of the Unholy Fuck. But, me and Holy? We try to keep our businesses separate.” The son of Hermes’ teased immediately, still confused how she seemed to question his identity, “I’m offended really. You don’t just see someone as amazing as me in the buff and then just not recognize me. Tsk.” He smirked, though it faltered as he became a little unnerved from her disbelieving stare.
