Post by Porter on Mar 18, 2015 23:13:15 GMT -5
I groaned as Shiloh nonchalantly dipped my belt buckle into the Lake. Why do demigods have the strangest ways of dealing with things? I accepted the fate that my favourite Timberland belt was going to get rusted, and sat next to Shiloh cross-legged. It felt like hours of sitting and waiting until Shiloh began to feel resistance on the leather strap, but it could've been only a couple of minutes, I wasn't exactly the patient type. With a hefty swing, the nymph sprouted out from the lake and flopped onto the deck. I fought against the impulse to run up and demand for justice and order- she seemed so frightened, and I knew any sudden movements would scare her off. My anger seemed to ebb when she looked at me with terror in her large blue eyes. I couldn't yell at her if I tried.
I followed Shiloh's lead and sat down slowly with her, pursing my lips and picking at a scab on my arm awkwardly as Shiloh did all the talking. I was afraid any wrong move could set her off, and I was the king of wrong moves. I only glanced up when I saw Shiloh looking at me, and I realized she had said something important and I wasn't listening. Whatever it was, the blue-eyed girl was blushing hardcore. Maybe Shiloh was talking about her shiny garter belt or something. Fortunately, Shiloh looked back to Misty before I had a chance to think of about what expression would be most suitable for someone who understood what was going on. She continued to inquire Misty about the the needle, and I couldn't help rocking back and forth in my cross-legged position, getting antsy about how much we had to dance around the subject with colourful words. I squeezed my hand tightly into a fist as Misty slid back into the Lake. It felt like hours and she still didn't return. Shiloh looked panicked as she began to yell after the nymph. Frustration rose to my chest. I stood up, wanting to do something but not sure what. I ended up pacing back and forth across the edge of the deck, teeth clenched. I began to swear loudly in French at the Lake, at the Camp.
"Viarge! vieille christ! tu sens le tabarnak!" I yelled out in words that were only vulgar to French Canadians.
Shiloh looked up at me with guilt on her face, ready to apologize. I looked at her and sighed.
"It-it's not your fault. Who knew she would just-"
Only moments after I stopped potty mouthing the lake, the girl appeared on the surface again- this time, with a familiar black pouch that I began to pray to the Gods was water-proof. She looked visibly shaken and must've heard my yelling. Hopefully she didn't understand French Canadian. It must have taken her more courage to muster up to break the surface, and this thought was the only thing keeping me from bolting to my pouch and snatching it with no hesitation. Instead, I gave her an apologetic smile, my face red with embarrassment. I gave her a quiet 'merci' before I slowly reached my hand towards her and the pouch. She cautiously swam towards me and daintily dropped the pouch into my hand before disappearing as quickly as she arrived into the lake. I clutched onto my pouch as if it were my life, and squeezed it against my chest, relief washing over me. I looked down into the lake but I could only see my own reflection. I gave a small wave in hopes that she could see me, and turned to Shiloh. She looked almost as relieved as I did. As she stood up from the dock, I pocketed my pouch and wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. She smelled sweet, as if someone just dropped caramel into my mouth but I was experiencing it through my nose. She looked surprised, but hugged back. I realized I was probably being an awkward idiot and pulled away.
"Um thanks again, for helping me and stuff. I really appreciate it." I mumbled out, running my hands along the bristly hair in the back of my head.
Even though the promised makeout session had been in the back of my mind throughout the whole mini-quest, I was too nervous to bring it up. I was just happy I had my testosterone back. I was satisfied for the day and didn't want to bite off more than I could chew.
I followed Shiloh's lead and sat down slowly with her, pursing my lips and picking at a scab on my arm awkwardly as Shiloh did all the talking. I was afraid any wrong move could set her off, and I was the king of wrong moves. I only glanced up when I saw Shiloh looking at me, and I realized she had said something important and I wasn't listening. Whatever it was, the blue-eyed girl was blushing hardcore. Maybe Shiloh was talking about her shiny garter belt or something. Fortunately, Shiloh looked back to Misty before I had a chance to think of about what expression would be most suitable for someone who understood what was going on. She continued to inquire Misty about the the needle, and I couldn't help rocking back and forth in my cross-legged position, getting antsy about how much we had to dance around the subject with colourful words. I squeezed my hand tightly into a fist as Misty slid back into the Lake. It felt like hours and she still didn't return. Shiloh looked panicked as she began to yell after the nymph. Frustration rose to my chest. I stood up, wanting to do something but not sure what. I ended up pacing back and forth across the edge of the deck, teeth clenched. I began to swear loudly in French at the Lake, at the Camp.
"Viarge! vieille christ! tu sens le tabarnak!" I yelled out in words that were only vulgar to French Canadians.
Shiloh looked up at me with guilt on her face, ready to apologize. I looked at her and sighed.
"It-it's not your fault. Who knew she would just-"
Only moments after I stopped potty mouthing the lake, the girl appeared on the surface again- this time, with a familiar black pouch that I began to pray to the Gods was water-proof. She looked visibly shaken and must've heard my yelling. Hopefully she didn't understand French Canadian. It must have taken her more courage to muster up to break the surface, and this thought was the only thing keeping me from bolting to my pouch and snatching it with no hesitation. Instead, I gave her an apologetic smile, my face red with embarrassment. I gave her a quiet 'merci' before I slowly reached my hand towards her and the pouch. She cautiously swam towards me and daintily dropped the pouch into my hand before disappearing as quickly as she arrived into the lake. I clutched onto my pouch as if it were my life, and squeezed it against my chest, relief washing over me. I looked down into the lake but I could only see my own reflection. I gave a small wave in hopes that she could see me, and turned to Shiloh. She looked almost as relieved as I did. As she stood up from the dock, I pocketed my pouch and wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. She smelled sweet, as if someone just dropped caramel into my mouth but I was experiencing it through my nose. She looked surprised, but hugged back. I realized I was probably being an awkward idiot and pulled away.
"Um thanks again, for helping me and stuff. I really appreciate it." I mumbled out, running my hands along the bristly hair in the back of my head.
Even though the promised makeout session had been in the back of my mind throughout the whole mini-quest, I was too nervous to bring it up. I was just happy I had my testosterone back. I was satisfied for the day and didn't want to bite off more than I could chew.
