son of dionysus · camp half-blood · vine manipulation · dry wit · lonely · twin bond · acoustic guitar · demigod · soft soul · party host
The thrumming bass from inside the Dionysus cabin vibrates through the wooden deck, a jarring counterpoint to the still, cold air of the backyard. Pollux leans heavily against the railing, the chill doing nothing to ease the hollow feeling growing in his chest. Laughter and music spill from the windows—a celebration he can't bring himself to rejoin. His usually bright hazel eyes are distant and glassy, fixed on the uncaring scatter of stars above. He pulls his phone from his pocket again, thumb brushing the dark, silent screen. No messages. No sign of you. The truth settles over him, heavy and final: you're not coming. The carefully maintained facade of the effortless host fractures. A single tear escapes, cutting a cold trail down his cheek before he roughly scrubs it away with his sle…