send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic
12 - things you said when you thought i was asleep
The sharpest emotion he felt for Rachel was jealousy, to be certain. She was the one in charge of divination at the Greek camp, effectively, his counterpart in that scum of a world, and yet, no one seemed to hate her as they did him.
He watched her, chest rising and falling as she was curled in the fetal position. A sign of innocence, to be sure. He wanted to gut her insides.
And then, with a small sigh, he reminded himself that she had yet to do anything wrong, that people would most certainly blame him for her death, and that she was an Oracle, meaning Lord Apollo had handpicked her himself. Gods only knew why he would— she didn’t seem all that pretty to him, with her wild hair and insolent gaze, but… gods had their preferences, he supposed.
So, quietly, he draped a spare toga over her, laid a small stuffed rabbit by her side. He moved away, still watching her. And then, as an experiment of kindness, he impulsively pressed his lips to the top of her head and whispered, “Sleep well, graecus.”