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Heart Shaped Scars ｡ﾟ･ׂׂૢ࿐ 𝖕𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ─── ❝the greatest swordsman of the age is outsmarted by a walking disco ball❞
𝕱IFTEEN YEAR OLD Luke Castellan didn't understand the Aphrodite kids. Here they were at the greatest place on earth for demigods, with endless activities to occupy themselves with, and these kids stayed cooped up in their cabin as much as they could. At least, most of them did.
There were a handful of children of the love goddess that actually participated in the camp's activities, such as the particularly interesting one that the boy soon found himself in front of.
Luke and a boy from the Athena cabin had been titled as the flag guards this week, something Luke thought was a rather boring position and one he never liked when it was his turn to have it.
It had suddenly become less boring when an arrow soared through the air and pinned his teammate to a tree by the orange fabric of his t-shirt.
Those damn Apollo kids, had been the brunette's initial thought, until a daughter of Aphrodite emerged from behind a tree, a bow wielded in her left hand, an arrow missing from the right.
Alya McAdams. A tall girl with dark hair and darker eyes, her sparkly sneakers stained by mud at the edges. Long lashes fluttering against scarred cheeks; a pink shirt hidden under armor that matched perfectly with the glittery eyeshadow her sister had painted across her eyelids. The living embodiment of a disco ball, in other words.
Luke's tense stance relaxed as he released a sigh of relief, the initial intimidation squandered. "Dude, you just got nailed by an Aphrodite kid." He chuckled to his misfortuned teammate.
A dark brow quirked on the girl's face as an entertained smirk followed. The earth crunched under her feet as she slowly made her way towards the arrogant boy and she asked, "What's so funny, Castellan?"
It was now his turn to lift an amused brow, as he twirled the hilt of his sword between quick fingers. "Cool it, cupcake," he remarked with a hollow snigger. "We all know Aphrodite kids don't fight."
Her eyes flickered down to his feet and then back up to his face, and a regale smile fell upon her features as her eyes narrowed. The next two words she said were the catalyst, though Luke didn't know that of course.
"Can't they?" She inquired, her tone provocative. The boy wanted to laugh again, but when she began advancing with an arrow-less bow, he found himself more confused than he was defensive. What was this girl doing?
When she was about ten feet away and within closer earshot, her heard the first question.
"Is that a new sword, Luke? Looks wicked." She remarked, eying the blade that twirled between the boy's grip. He raised a brow at the question, finding himself intrigued yet oddly entranced by the simplicity of it. Maybe it wasn't the question, maybe it was just her.
The boy was so distracted that he didn't even hear the footsteps crunching behind him and his team's flags; all he heard were her words.
"Can I see it?" She'd asked, dropping her bow down to the forest floor beside her feet, a fox-like smile curved on her lips. Her dark lashes batted against her cheeks as she spoke, one of them noticeably scarred.
Luke muttered something that resembled a sure, and handed her the hilt of his weapon, leaving himself defenseless and vulnerable. He didn't hear as his teammates yelled at him that the flag had been snatched up by an Apollo kid, nor did he see as the boy zipped right past him, two of his teammates following. His pupils were dilated and dazzling, unfocused on everything around him.
Luke's sense of self didn't return until it was too late. When he snapped back to reality and attempted to recover, he found himself at the receiving end of his own blade, his back pushed up against a tree with no escape in sight.
Dark eyes narrowed and bore into brown as the boy tried to find an opening, a weak point, but it was already too late. Cheers of victory erupted from the opposing end of the woods, and they both knew that the Apollo team had won.
A smile spread across Alya's face and she lowered Luke's sword, offering it back to the boy who was still baffled by the fact he'd fallen victim to charmspeak in the middle of a capture the flag match.
When he didn't reclaim his weapon, Alya grabbed his wrist and shoved the sword's grip back into his hand, an amused smile on her face.
"Thank you for your cooperation," she remarked, beginning to cross back to her teammates and join in on the celebration. Before she turned her back to him though, she added,
