#c: cleograves

[halfgclden]

 @yungimmortals​

“Oo, oo, you remember this one?” Cleo turned up the music she was playing from the speaker in the living room. “All I wanna get is...” She laughed as she sang along to Tegan and Sara. “Just a little bit cloooser.” She held up her thumb and forefinger to show just how close she wanted to get to Graves before she leaned in and kissed him in the cheek, distracting him from the mocktails he was currently trying to make for them. “I was already head over heels for you then.” She rested her chin on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. “But you knew that, right?” She batted her eyes at him.

[halfgclden]

@yungimmortals​

Cleo had meant to help Graves set up the hammock she’d gotten him for his birthday, but instead she just watched him tie it securely to one tree at the edge of the beach, and called him over to help with hers since she wasn’t sure a knot she’d tie would be enough to bear the weight of two people. Once he’d come over to help her, though, she dropped the ropes so that she could place her hands on his hips, as if it were impossible to be in such close proximity to him without actually touching him. “Hi.” She pressed her body against his and smiled, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m less of a cougar than yesterday, but I think I’ll still embrace the lifestyle. I can buy you pretty things while you look hot and tie things up for me and clean my pool.”

[halfgclden]

@yungimmortals​

Cleo tucked a scrap of paper into her book to save her page and closed it, then placed it on the ground next to her. She lifted her head from where it’d been resting against Graves’s leg. He was sitting on the couch, looking far too comfortable for her to let be now that she was no longer distracted by her story. “Hey,” she said as she turned to face him. She leaned across his lap and pulled up the hem of his sweatshirt, then darted under, the upper half of her torso joining his. “Mmmm.” She laughed as she rubbed her cheek into his shirt. “You’re so waaarm.”

[halfgclden]

Cleo sent Graves a text to let him know that she was outside of his cabin, smart enough not to take her chances knocking, especially when she was clearly dressed up to go somewhere. She’d sent her friend a message earlier that day, letting him know that he’d have to get fancy for his “Christmas present... nay, Christmas experience.” She smoothed out her dress as the door was answered, and her eyebrows shot up as she clapped a hand over her mouth, snorting with amusement. “Cameron, not to dictate your Christmas experience, but... that isn’t quite what I meant by fancy.”

[halfgclden]

June 21st was a very important day. Litha, and Cameron Graves’s birthday, both events that were well worth celebrating. Which was why Cleo was in an abandoned building near a river, picking between peach wine, mead, or tequila for her next drink. She had no idea what time it was because the sun still had hours left in it, but she knew she was warm and happy, both from the weather and the company and the alcohol. She picked up the wine and turned towards Graves, who was wearing a matching sunflower and lavender crown, and who at least seemed to be having as good a time as she was. “How about a reading now,” she said with a smile. “Before I get too tipsy and my cards just yell at me for it.”

[halfgclden]

@yungimmortals​

Not that Cleo was counting or anything, but it’d been an entire lunar cycle since the last time she’d talked to Graves. In person, that was. She’d still been answering his texts, since she didn’t have that much restraint, but those were starting to come fewer and further between, and the thought of it made her chest heavy. When she saw the familiar mop of curly hair as she turned down the street, her first instinct was to cross to avoid him, but she stayed on her path, and, not sure if he noticed her yet, called out to him. “Hey, on your way back from the skate park?”

[halfgclden]

@yungimmortals​

“How about... this?” Cleo spoke as dramatically as she turned, doning glasses that made her eyes seem three sizes bigger, a scarf that seemed to change colour as you looked at it, and a large sun hat that rippled as though made of water. She put her hands on her hips and shifted her weight from one side to the other, posing in her ridiculous ensemble for her friend. “Tell me, Cameron, and be honest, how much am I making this work? Should this be my new look?”

[halfgclden]

Cleo took a sip from the bottle of lemon juice and shuddered, then smiled as she held it out to Graves. She swung her legs back and forth and threw a rock into the river, smiling at the satisfying sound it made as it was swallowed by the river. “Okay, okay, okay.” She lost her train of thought on the second ‘okay’, but it was back by the third. “Rapid fire. Would you rather be a werewolf or a vampire? What’s your favourite cryptid? Annnnd,” she drew out the word. “Would you rather talk to animals that can fly or ones that live under water? Go.”

[halfgclden]

FOOL’S GOLD | GRAVES & CLEO

Date: Late November (the day of Raf’s forest party)

Summary: Cleo lets Graves know that the crystal her got her broke, and he decides to cheer her up.

Cleo felt somewhat hysterical. She’d worked herself up over something that she knew, logically, she should not be crying this hard over, and yet the way that the fight escalated left her weepy, sitting on her bed with broken pyrite in her lap. She sniffled hard, wiped her face, and was on the phone before she processed that she’d called anyone. Two rings, then his voice, and a wave of anger at her brother once more. “H-hi, Cam?” Cleo took a shuddering breath. “I...” She drew her knees up closer to her and put a hand on the crystal. “My pyrite broke.”

A faint buzzing sound caught Graves' attention when he pulled his headphones off. He dropped his controller on his desk and spun around in his chair, searching for the source. There. The corner of his phone was peeking out from a pair of jeans on the floor and he hopped up, grabbing it and answering without looking at the display, not wanting the call to go to his voicemail if he was too slow. His cheerful expression fell as he heard the waver in her voice. "Hey Bancroft, you okay?" He turned off his Xbox and grabbed his keys, already walking out the door as he heard her answer. Graves frowned, suspicions quickly forming. "I'm on my way." Not five minutes later, he was outside her door. "Cleo?" He knocked in a pattern, hoping she was the one to answer the door.

Cleo almost felt like protesting when Graves said that he was coming over, but if she was being honest, it was why she called him. “Okay,” she managed before he hung up, pressing her palm into her eye to wipe it roughly. She was past the stage of ugly crying, almost into the stage of pretty just-cried. Her eyelashes were wet, face flushed but not blotchy, her nose wasn’t running anymore. She was at the point where her friend could come over to comfort her without her feeling self-conscious. She left her room to wait for Graves, her eyes burning as she walked through the wine-wet floor to pull the door open for him. When her eyes found him, she felt a wave of emotion at the fact that her friend was so kind as to come straight to her without even knowing what was wrong. For all he knew, she could have been clumsy and dropped the pyrite herself (not that she ever would). Overcome with emotion, she leaned against her door frame before moving forward to press her face into his shoulder. “Surprised you didn’t come to the window,” she said with a small sniffle.

"Would've been a lot harder to do this, if I had," he responded, pulling her into a tight hug the moment she crossed the threshold. Graves looked over Cleo's shoulder as he held her, brow furrowing as he noticed a dark puddle just inside the cabin's doorway. He gave her another squeeze before letting go, resting his hands on her shoulders. He met Cleo's eyes, studying her face. Her still-wet eyelashes reminded him that she had been crying and he suddenly wanted to shield her from whatever had caused her to feel this way. "What happened? Where's your pyrite?"

Don’t cry on his shirt. Cleo hugged Graves back as she squeezed her eyes shut. When she pulled away, his shirt was damp, but she hoped he wouldn’t comment on it as she led him towards her room. “Ugh,” she huffed as she scrubbed her palms into her eyes. “Raf kicked it off the table and it broke into pieces.” She took a seat on her bed, the crystal sitting beside her in chunks. “And then we had this huge fight and I dumped wine on his shoes and...” She tried not to let herself get too worked up, but there was so much pressure in her chest that she felt like she might pop. She picked up the crystal to cradle it once more. “And I called you because...” She let out a sad little laugh. “I don’t know. I didn’t know who else to call. I think it might be okay. But it’s broken and everything feels ruined and I’m just...” She shook her head, looking at the pyrite in her lap as she exhaled another laugh. “I’m sad! And angry! He did it on purpose because he’s terrible and now his shoes are ruined so...” She wiped a stray tear from her cheek and looked back up at her friend. “I’m sorry.”

Graves gave her an extra squeeze, right before letting go and following Cleo to her room. His eyes fell on the dark puddle in the kitchen again and from the overwhelming smell, he realized it was wine. Taking off his shoes and setting them to the side, Graves sat on the bed next to his friend. He wanted to put an arm around her but didn't want Cleo to feel smothered by his presence, so he sat close enough that she would have the option if she wanted that. As she explained what had happened, Graves listened, curling his hand into a fist. "That jackass..." He relaxed his posture, letting out a surprised laugh. "You did? Shit, I would've paid to see the look on his face." His gaze fell to the pyrite Cleo was cradling and he chewed his lip. "Hey, it's okay. What are you apologizin' to me for? None of that, it's alright. Raf's a dick, what else is new?" Graves offered her a smile, leaning closer to bump her shoulder gently with his own. "I'm sorry about your pyrite, Bancroft. Lemme cheer you up?"

Cleo drew her legs up and leaned against Graves once he was beside her, resting her cheek against his shoulder. She exhaled a small laugh that sounded more like a sigh at his reaction to her story. “It was terrible. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his skull. They’re shoes! They look better now, I swear.” She was already pleased with her decision to call Graves over, as his presence proved enough to assuage her terrible mood. She lifted her head and smiled as he bumped her shoulder. “I’m sorry my awful brother destroyed the crystal you got me,” she said with a more genuine laugh this time. She rubbed her eye again. “I won’t say no to that. Let’s get out of here though. Raf is due back any minute to slam all the doors again.” She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure they do. He's got shit taste in shoes anyway. They could only be improved." Graves shifted so that he could wrap an arm around Cleo after she leaned against him, giving her a reassuring squeeze. At her apology, Graves closed his eyes, a small smile forming on his lips. A plan was already forming in his head, and something told him it would go over well— but that was for another time. He pushed the idea to the back of his mind and stood, holding his hands out for Cleo to take. "'S alright, darlin'. Let's blow this joint before the Big Bad Raf comes back, all huffin' and puffin'. How does...pizza? Ice cream? A joy ride in my truck sound?"

For a moment, wrapped up against him, Cleo thought about abandoning the idea of leaving and pulling him on top of her. Let’s lie here and make out and forget the crystal and my brother and everything. But the idea seemed too stained with the fact that Raf would hate it, and she didn’t want to make anything she did with Graves a way to get back at her brother. She was pulled away from her thoughts by Graves moving and holding his hands out, but the fact that he called her darlin sent her straight back to them. She smiled at him, her cheeks warm, and moved the pyrite onto the bed beside her as she took his hand, pulling herself up. “Ugh, everything. It all sounds amazing.” She sighed, only dropping one of his hands so she could pull him towards the door. “Joyride first, maybe? It’ll keep me from showing up to Raf’s party to destroy it.”

"We'll do it all then. We got nothin' but time." Graves followed Cleo outside, enjoying that they always seemed to get somewhere by pulling the other there, like one of them never knew where to go. It was silly, but it was fun and he liked it. Standing in the sun, he ran his free hand through his hair, tousling it. "A'ight. Joyride it is. You wanna drive?" Graves fished his keys out of his pocket and twirled them around his finger. Holding his hand out in offering, he raised an eyebrow at Cleo. "And forget about the party. We'll have our own. Let's go for a drive."

At the offer of his keys, Cleo's heart could have stopped. She raised her eyebrows so high they nearly met her hairline, and she laughed before taking them. "Are you sure? You've never even seen me drive. I'm really careful!" She added quickly. "In fact, the most trouble I get in is because I'm too careful. Or distracted. But I won't be! With Loretta," she assured him, looking down at the keys in her hand with shining eyes. She held his hand to her cheek as she looked back up at him. "Where is she?"

Graves couldn't help but laugh at the look on Cleo's face; clearly his offer had caught her by surprise. "I trust you, Bancroft. Long as y'don't wreck my girl on purpose, we'll be good," he couldn't help but tease her. Gods, she looks so cute. Don't- hey, idiot, she asked you a question. Graves felt his face warm for no good reason and turned away from Cleo so that she wouldn't see, though he didn't let go of her hand. With his free hand, he pointed in the direction of the Big House.  "Loretta's parked out by the camp vans."

"I would never!" Cleo said, clutching the keys to her chest, and her lips twisted into a strange smile. "Unless I catch you slow-dancing with a bleached-blond tramp who's probably getting frisky." She started off towards the direction he was pointing, keeping a grip on his hand, her heart beating excitedly at the prospect of driving Graves's truck. "I've never driven anything that big. A minivan was probably the biggest thing? Am I going to get really into it? Am I gonna be a truck guy after this? Full tan on one arm type of deal?" She chattered excitedly, her crystal all but forgotten now that her tears had dried.

Looking back at Cleo, his face split into a wide smile. "Huh...well, what if I buy her some fruity little drunk 'cause she can't shoot a whiskey?" Hand in hers, Graves laughed at Cleo's train of thought as they walked. "I can't play pool though, so no worries there. Oh yeah," he nodded emphatically, laughing at the reference. "You're gonna be a truck guy. Full on trucker tan. Your arm, sunglasses tan, the works. I had a bad one one summer, I was workin' for my gran but also helpin' our neighbors with their landscapin' and deliverin' pizza and y'know...that tucker-farmer combo tan was a sight. I looked like a real Southern boy. Y'should've seen it, Bancroft."

Cleo grinned. "Oh, great, then I can show up and show her how to play and you get to keep your car in tact, win-win." She snorted as she laughed at his description and covered her mouth. "Oh my gods. I'd love to see that. Get one again this year, just for me?" She laughed again. "Can your left arm take it?" Upon arriving to their destination, Cleo only beamed brighter at the sight of the truck she was about to drive. "Are there tricks to her? Oh my gods... is it stick?"

"You'd teach her how to hustle people at pool, yeah? One day you'll have to teach me." Her laugh only made him smile more, glad to see that his intervention seemed to be cheering her up. Graves rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. "For you? I'll think about it. I've been told I need to start using sunscreen but—" He shrugged and laughed again. At her question, his eyes widened. "Shit. Yeah, it is. I didn't even think— Can you drive stick?"

"Aw, but if I teach you, I'll have no one to hustle." Cleo hummed and ran her thumb over his knuckles as she smiled at him, leaning back against the door of Loretta. "I just told you that the biggest thing I've driven is a minivan, does it seem like I can drive stick?"

Graves grinned, "Good point. You'll take all my money though, so we're gon' hafta start gettin' creative with our bets." He groaned, letting go of Cleo's hand to scrub his hands down his face. "I'm an idiot. I'll dr— Nah, y'know what? How you feel about learnin' stick today, Bancroft?"

Cleo had a number of suggestions for things they could bet, but she settled for just looking at his lips for a long moment before she laughed at his dismay. She tilted her head at him, the smile seemingly unable to be wiped from her face. "How do I feel about it? Uh, really excited?" She resisted the urge to take his hand again. "Have you ever taught anyone before? Should I be nervous?"

Dropping his hands from his face, Graves caught her gaze, a smile forming on his lips. "Yeah? Okay. Okay! Let's do it." He nodded his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to psych himself up for the task. Graves gently placed his hands on Cleo's shoulders, trying to hide a full-fledged Hermes Grin™️ by resting his cheek on his shoulder. When this didn't work, he let out a laugh. "Nervous? Nah, I've taught a few people. And all of them survived. You'll be a pro, I already know it."

Cleo bit the tip of her thumb as she smiled at Graves, cheeks warm and eyes bright as he took her shoulders and smiled at her. "Let's do it," she repeated, reaching up to trail her fingertips along his forearm. "A pro? Is that a promise, Cam? Will I be able to add this to my resume after this? They can send me to Italy on business?"

Wilfully ignoring the feeling in his chest from her fingers on his arm, Graves nodded. "It is. With a little bit of luck—" he winked "—It can be at the top of your resume. Italy, France, wherever you want." He released Cleo's shoulders, moving to open the driver door of the truck's cab to let her in, then paused to smack his forehead. "What am I doin'? Can't just let you drive out this parkin' lot when you don't know how yet." Graves hummed, fingers tapping the top of the door. "What do y' say— I'll treat you to dinner, and then we'll go somewhere to teach you stick, yeah?"

Cleo grinned once more and decided that she felt lucky enough to be exactly where she was. "Oh my gods," she said with a laugh, shaking her head. "I was ready to get in and try my hand right now. Really took the I won't wreck Loretta lightly." She nodded at his suggestion and moved to wrap her arms around his middle, pressing her cheek up against his chest. "That sounds perfect." She closed her eyes. "I don't know why I was so upset about my crystal." It was only partially a lie— it was hard to remember one emotion when she was feeling another so strongly. "You shield me from negative energy better than pyrite ever could."

"I know, and I was about to let ya. Both of us, ridiculous." He laughed, holding out his hand to take the keys back from Cleo, but was stopped mid-motion when she stepped forward to hug him. Graves wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of Cleo's head. He smiled softly as he murmured into her hair, "Good. That means I'm doin' my job right." A small laugh bubbled from his lips as he pulled away to lean back and look at her, arms still around her waist. Something tugged inside his chest as he looked down at her. He pushed it away again, enjoying the moment far too much as his tone turned teasing. "Shieldin' you like a knight. I don't know about shinin' armor but...you get the point. Now—" Graves fully released Cleo from the hug and slapped the roof of his truck. "Me and my noble steed are takin' you out to dinner. Hop in."

[halfgclden]

Anytime | Graves&Cleo (& L)

Date: May 9th, 2020

Summary: Graves needs physical and spiritual healing after Fight Night. That is provided by a child of Apollo and a child of Dionysus respectively.

The sun had just begun to set as Graves had walked up to the Apollo cabin and lightly knocked on the door. The cabin almost seemed to be surrounded by a faint gold aura; whether that was from the setting sun or a result of the cabin's patron, Graves wasn't sure but he loved it all the same.  He rubbed his shoulder, waiting for the door to open and thought about the events of the weekend thus far. The third round of 'fight night' had concluded a few hours ago, and though he hadn't won, Cam had had the time of his life. Now, showered and dressed, with the last of an ambrosia high leaving his system, he had texted L, requesting their healing expertise before he set out on the excursion he had in mind for that night. He knocked again, just in case his first attempt had been inaudible. "Hey, it's Graves."

L answered the door after the second knock, having to step over a sleeping dog to get to it. They'd spent the earlier part of the evening with their girlfriends in celebration, but they told them that they'd go to their cabin for an hour and then reconvene, in order to give people time to stop by and get any healing that they needed. They flashed a smile at Graves and stepped back so that he could step in, shoving a cat back with their foot as they did. "Hey! How's the shoulder doing?"

Graves' face lit up into a smile, first at the sight of L, then at the hairless cat trying to sneak around their leg to greet him. "George Caramel! Hey kitty!" He made the pspspspsps sound in the direction of the feline before stepping into the cabin. "Hey, long time no see," he joked. "It's doin' alright. Miranda demanded I get it checked out or - and this is a direct quote - juro que haré que te arrepientas por el resto de tu vida. I'm not entirely positive on what she said but it sounded violent. And so, here I am, at your doorstep, beggin' for your magic touch.” Graves grinned at L, "Would you be able to help me?"

L closed the door behind Graves and turned to see their cat, up on his hind legs, staring at Graves because of the sound he was making. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds ominous, so I’ll heal you right up!” They grinned. “Do you want to sit for it? Or are you in a hurry? It’ll take, like, a minute, tops. I told my geefs I wouldn’t wear myself our before we went hard tonight.” L blinked. “Went hard in celebration,” they clarified.

"I'm headed somewhere but I'm not in a hurry. Sittin' works." Graves blinked for a second, then L's explanation sunk in and he chuckled. "Of course, don't tire yourself out on my account. Rosie would kill me." He turned to find a suitable place to take a seat. "What do I have to do?"

L took a seat on the arm of the couch and beckoned Graves over. “You don’t need to do anything, just sit there and look pretty.” They smiled. “You’re gonna feel really warm, then kinda sore, but you’ll maybe be able to move it once I’m done with you. Have you had any ambrosia yet?”

He made his way to the couch and took a seat next to L. "Lookin' pretty is my specialty," Graves smiled. His face was still bruised from the previous night's fighting but a few doses of ambrosia had healed up the cuts on his face fairly well. "I'm always warm, so I'm prepared. Yeah, Miranda made me take some right after we finished the round earlier. I feel great!"

“I know,” L said affectionately as they pat his head. “And yeah, you should have that moving real soon, but make sure you actually come to me every day until I tell you to stop.” They wagged a finger at him. “Not just when you feel okay, because then you might aggravate it and get muscle damage and I really don’t want to have to deal with that.” They pressed a hand into his shoulder and let the warmth pass from them into his arm, muttering a small prayer to Apollo as they did.

Graves looked chastised for a moment; if not for Miranda and L, he probably would've accidentally injured himself further. "I'm really not tryin' to damage any muscles so I'll be back tomorrow," he promised, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth emanating from L's hand. When it stopped, he was tempted to poke his shoulder and test how it felt. Instead, he looked at L. "Am I good to go, Nurse L?"

L nodded, happy that Graves was following their advice. They went from their stern, nurse face to their usual sunny one. After a moment, they pulled their hand away, feeling a bit tired but not fully drained. “Yeah, I’m gonna hold out a bit on ya in case someone else comes by, but make sure you do your best not to move it much, at least not until you see me tomorrow.”

"I'll be careful, swear." He stood and gave L a one-armed hug. "Thank you, thank you! You're amazin', you're wonderful, you're a ray of sunshine! Make sure you eat somethin', keep up your energy!" Graves moved to the door, stopping to wave goodbye to another one of L's cats on his way out. "See you tomorrow! Don't go too hard tonight!" He laughed and slipped out the door.

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Cleo sat in her room, playing music as she painted her nails. She sang along under her breath, blowing on her left hand as she painted the right. Between each nail, she took a moment to spin and dance around the room, changing each song just before it ended. She hadn’t thought that she was playing it very loudly, but she also didn’t notice any knocking until she was very sure that there was knocking, and she ran out to go check the door, opening it carefully so as not to smudge her nails. “Cam.” She smiled for but a moment before her face dropped, taking in his cut up face and shoulder in a sling. “What happened?” She stepped back to let him in.

Graves couldn't help but laugh; here he was, standing outside the Dionysus cabin on a whim, just knocking repeatedly. He tried not to feel too ridiculous; he wasn't even positive if the person he was looking for was here. Then again, he could hear music blasting inside and from the sound of it, she was. Graves was torn between keeping his arrival a surprise or sending Cleo a text to let him in already. When she opened the door and her expression turned to one of worry, Cam's smile faltered but only for a second before he beamed at her brightly. "Bancroft, hey." He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Oh this?" He asked, looking at his immobilized arm as if seeing it for the first time. "I forgot to bring my good luck charm to fight night apparently."

“My gods.” Cleo exhaled a breath and raised her hand as though to touch him, then dropped it again. “I should have figured you went to that stupid thing.” She’d heard about the fight night, but being that she wasn’t a fighter, none of her friends were going, and she didn’t want to see people get maimed, she hadn’t gone herself. Zoe mentioned that there was a second part to it earlier in the day, but she took the time to herself instead, which meant that she missed out on whatever it was that caused Cameron his scuffled appearance. “Are you okay?” She drew her brows together and watched him.

He watched Cleo's hand hover for a moment before she dropped it. Graves' fingers twitched, almost tempted to- he sent the thought away, raising an eyebrow instead. "Woah, hey. It wasn't stupid, it was actually a lot of fun." Graves ran his fingers through his hair, noticing the concern etched into her features. He tried to lighten the mood, "I'm better now." He winked at her with his blackened eye.

Cleo crossed her arms, thankful that Len was at a sleepover and not watching their sister lecture a half-beaten boy in their cabin. "Just because it was fun does not negate the fact that it was stupid, Cam." She frowned at him, though she didn't see anything that she could do for him. "Do you want ice? Have you been to the healers?"

"C'mon Bancroft, I don't look that bad, do I?" A small voice in his head told him that yes, he looked like hell and should go home and rest but he was already here. It would take a little more than a frown from Cleo to send him home right now. "I stopped by the Apollo cabin on my way here." Graves chewed his lip, trying not to smile as she told him off. "Okay, maybe it was a little stupid. Was showing up here also stupid?"

Cleo wiped her hands down her face and sighed. "Ugh, Cameron, you look hurt." She looked back at him, pouting slightly, taking in the bruises that lined his jaw and collarbone. If she was honest, it was the sling that was the worrying part, and had he just shown up with a few cuts and bruises she probably would've stopped lecturing him after she made sure he was okay. She pursed her lips and took his left hand, sighing as she noticed bruising there too. "No, it wasn't stupid. I can't really do much for you." She pulled him towards the kitchen. "But I always have ice. Or at the very least something cold to press to a black eye."

Graves scrunched his nose and frowned, seeing Cleo's expression shift into a pout as she took in all his bruises. "It, um, it's not that bad. Looks a lot worse than it is, swear." He exhaled through his nose when she took his hand and watched her examine the bruises on his knuckles with her slender fingers. Graves let himself be pulled towards the kitchen; it took a moment for her words to sink in. "Oh, Bancroft, no no. I didn't- I didn't come for ice. I just came to see you." He offered her a soft smile.

Cleo looked up at Graves when he spoke and squinted at him slightly, biting her lip. She shook her head at him but couldn’t help but smile at his words. “You’re so...” She didn’t really know how to finish the sentence. She dropped his hand so that she could tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear and move to her fridge. “Well, you’re getting both. Did you want anything to drink?” She opened the freezer and pulled out a half-empty ice tray.

He quirked an eyebrow at Cleo, wondering how that sentence might have ended. But she dropped it, and his hand, so he let it be. “Both is good,” Graves laughed. “And um, water would be great. Thanks.”

Cleo grabbed a hand towel and dumped the ice into it, then handed the bundle over to him. She took two remaining cubes of ice and put them in a glass, then filled it with water from the sink. She frowned when she realized he couldn’t hold both the ice pack and the water. “Okay, I can... ice your face while you drink?”

Graves held out his hand to accept the bundle of ice from Cleo but faltered, realizing she had a point. “Hmm, uh, yeah. That works, hang on.” He hopped onto the counter with surprising grace for someone with his injuries. Graves flashed Cleo a cocky grin and tapped his ring against the edge of the counter. “Lucky jump.”

Cleo opened and closed her mouth, somewhat incredulously, when Graves jumped onto the counter. She shook her head. "Now you're gonna have to bend down more for me to ice your face, doofus." She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled and stood in front of him. She held out the water. "How'd you break your arm?"

“Didn’t think of that, oops.” He clicked his tongue, then leaned down enough to make it easier for Cleo to reach his face. Graves accepted the glass of water and took a sip. He shook his head, his smile rueful. “Not broken. I...dislocated my shoulder.”

She pressed the makeshift ice pack into his jaw carefully and frowned, sucking in a breath sympathetically. "Should I ice that instead? Is that what you're supposed to do for it?"

Graves closed his eyes as Cleo pressed the ice to his jaw, feeling the chill spread. “No no, L worked their magic on it right before I got here and I’m still cruisin’ from some ambrosia earlier. I just have to try not to move it, hence the sling. Really, Bancroft, I’m okay. You’re lookin’ at me like I might fall apart.”

Cleo huffed. "I wouldn't be looking at you like that if you didn't come to me in pieces." She shook her head and chewed her lip, raising one shoulder in a small shrug. "But, you know, you're tougher than I realize, I guess." She pursed her lips again. "Who'd you fight?"

Graves was about to protest that he wasn't in pieces anymore; Ime had seen to that when they'd popped his shoulder back in. He wrinkled his nose at the memory. "You think I'm tough?" His face lit up in a goofy smile, but he tried to play it cool. "That's good. You're right. I am." He tried not to move too much while Cleo was icing his jaw, but found he was having a hard time sitting still. He set his glass down beside him and started tapping the edge of the counter with his hand. "First round, Rosie. She climbed me like a fuckin' monkey, I threw her off the platform. Second round, Ramona and Tai. Blue and I were a team. It was a heated fight." He wondered if Cleo had heard anything about fight night and would disapprove of his word choice. "My shoulder was from fightin' Tai. Not his fault though! He got me good, I dropped my sword, I fell and landed....wrong."

"Of course I think you're tough." Cleo shook her head and resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. "Coming to me with a busted arm and jaw. The bruised knuckles are what really drove me from feeling bad to being impressed, though, honestly." She smiled at him softly and then looked to his hand, tapping against the counter. "That's... a lot of people." She tilted her head and grimaced. "Fell so wrong it took your arm out? That's disgusting, Cam."

"Impressed, huh?" Graves bit his lip, suppressing an even larger smile. "Maybe I have to win fights more often," he mused, deciding not to mention he technically hadn't won last night's fight. "I'd say I wish you were there, so you could've seen the action but...yeah, gods." He shook his head. "Fuck, Bancroft. I fell very wrong. The sound..." Graves winced. "Shoulders should not sound like that. I'm glad you didn't hear it. Or hear me when it happened." He looked away, suddenly fascinated with a vine on the wall.

Cleo dipped her head as she shook it again. "Gods, you're just..." She sighed and didn't finish her sentence again, then looked back up at him, scrunching her face in disgust. "Oh, gods, ew. Please don't tell me any more about it." She frowned, then rested a hand on his knee. "I'm really glad you're okay."

Cleo's growing habit of leaving her sentences unfinished was only making Graves more and more curious about those unsaid words. But she didn't offer them up, and again he didn't ask. He stopped tapping on the counter to hold his hand up in surrender. "I won't, you don't want to hear them. I don't want to have heard it," he tried to joke. Graves' eyes flickered down to her hand on his knee. "Bancroft, you worried about me?"

Cleo stuck out her lower lip a bit. "If you have a less scary fight, tell me about it, and maybe I'll come. I've never seen you in action." She smiled and shook her head again. "Um, duh? Wouldn't you be worried if your friend showed up to your doorstep unannounced with a black eye and a cast?"

"Next time, maybe." He winked at her. "Ah, we'll have to change that. Did you know I fight with two swords? I don't know if I ever mentioned it. It's fuckin' fun. Okay, if you put it like that, I guess I'd be a little worried." Graves gave Cleo's hand a little squeeze and smiled, before tapping a rhythm with his ring this time. "And if you showed up on my doorstep like that, I'd ask who's ass I needed to kick."

Cleo smiled slightly, tapping his knee lightly with her fingers. “I think you’ve mentioned them before, and I’m pretty sure I was as impressed by the idea of the visual as I am now.” She looked down at their hands, watching his as he tapped his rings against her counter. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever asked what prompted the skull on his hand, but was pretty sure that it was something along the lines of ‘it was fucking cool’, as his others were. She smiled and shook her head. “I won’t show up on your doorstep like that.” Cleo didn’t get into many physical fights, if any at all, and if she did get into one, it was likely not going to be someone who’s ass Graves would be willing to kick.

Graves pressed his lips together; he assumed that the only altercations Cleo might get in were ones he really should stay out of, so he changed the subject. "Did I tell you that my swords are my rings?" Graves held his hand out for Cleo's inspection. He'd caught her looking at his hands often enough; whether she was looking at his assortment of jewelry or the tattoo on his left hand, he could never be sure. He leaned closer, resting his forehead on hers. "The ones I wear on my middle fingers," he explained.

Cleo kept watching his hand as he raised his, biting her lip as she picked up the hand not pressed against the slowly melting ice pack. She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t know that,” she said, lowering her voice. Something about the proximity made her feel less as though she had to compete with the music still playing in her room for volume. She glanced up again as his forehead met hers and swallowed. “You’re always prepared to fight, then? I never see you without them.” Water slid down her arm and she looked at the bundle, then put it down on the counter at his side, doing her best not to break contact with him.

He hummed softly, watching Cleo take his hand in her own for the second time that night. "They're enchanted. I can't lose them. So I guess, yes. Can't ever be caught without a way to defend myself." He glanced at the bundle of melted ice on the counter next to him. Graves could feel a few drops of water lazily trailing along his jaw and down his neck. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, staying as still as he could.

She ran her thumb over his knuckles as softly as she could, resting it against his ring. “They’re really pretty, so it’s nice that you don’t lose them,” she murmured. Cleo looked up, scanning his face as he closed his eyes, then reached up to brush the water from his neck. “Oh, you have...”

"They were a gift," he said, his voice low. Graves' eyes were still closed, unaware of her movement. When Cleo's fingers brushed his neck, he jolted back in surprise, knocking the glass of water over in the process. As water poured over the edge of the counter, it seemed as if a spell had been broken. Graves grimaced, "Sorry, I'll clean that up." He moved to hop off the counter, looking embarrassed and feeling strange.

Cleo moved back with a start when Gaves jolted, shocked by the sudden movement. She shook her head and grabbed another hand towel to wipe up the spill. "No, don't worry about it, I shouldn't have..." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and put the towel down on the counter. "Did you, um, want something to eat? I have a few snacks."

Graves moved for the hand towel the same time Cleo did and their hands bumped together. “Sorry,” he repeated, feeling heat rise on his cheeks. He leaned against the counter, pondering food options. “You’re hungry? You’ve got a snack right here.” He flicked his eyebrows upward, looking at Cleo playfully.

Cleo picked up the half-melted ice bundle as well and tossed it into her sink as she laughed, shaking her head at him. Even still, she let her eyes scan over him, noting where his cropped shirt ended and his midriff began. She bit her lip, then looked up, meeting his eyes instead of staring at his torso. "Shut up. I'm surprised you didn't call yourself a meal."

"Is that your way of callin' me one?" He watched Cleo's eyes sweep over his body, catching at the hem of his shirt. Graves ran his thumb over his bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. He met her gaze and held it, expression saying caught you.

Cleo pressed her lips together and shook her head at Graves, blushing slightly. "Um, no. I was just saying that that's something you'd say." She shook her head and went back to occupying herself with wiping up the spill again, though it was already mostly soaked up by the towel.

Graves' smile widened, "Well, y'would've been right. I am a meal. But, uh, if you're actually hungry, yeah I could eat. I think you've got all the water, ma'am." He took a step closer to Cleo and was about to place his hand on her arm but thought better of it.

Cleo looked up at Graves and set her jaw, dropping the towel into the sink next to the other one. "I'm not too hungry, I was just offering because I don't know what else to do," she admitted with a laugh. She pressed her hand to her forehead and shook her head. "Um, I think I have leftover dumplings and then, like, Redvines? I have a stash of mini Snickers too, but I'll only let you take one, two if you're really nice."

"I'd take a Redvine, if you're willin' to part with them. I'll let you keep your Snickers, because I'm that nice. And I don't...really know what else to do either," Graves smiled slightly before looking away. "We could..." He mused. "Stand here and talk about how stupid I am for signin' up for fight night. Or watch a movie. Or sing along to whatever you were listening to. Or I could tell you how cute your pajamas are. Or go for a walk. Any of those sound appealin', Bancroft?"

Cleo laughed quietly. "A single Redvine? How polite." She smiled, looking down at herself when he commented on her pajamas, then looked back up at him, taking a step forward, but leaned against the counter. "I would like nothing more than to sing along to music or go for a walk right now."

Graves gave a little half-shrug, the best he could do right now. Still, he winced a little and grit his teeth to hide it. He raised an eyebrow as she stepped closer, leaning casually into the conversation. "Walk first? Dramatic karaoke after?"

Cleo reached into her cabinet and grabbed a pack of Redvines, then held one out to Graves, and took two for herself. "Sounds amazing. I should probably shut my music off first, unless it makes people think I'm home, keeps me from getting robbed."

Accepting the Redvine from Cleo, Graves laughed. "I doubt you'll get robbed. Maybe the music will drive people away." He took a bite of the candy, smiling innocently.

Cleo chewed her candy and shrugged one shoulder at Graves. "It's a good strategy, no?" She laughed and took his good hand carefully. "Where do you want to walk to? Woods, beach, lake?"

"An excellent strategy. You claim to know every inch of the woods, if I recall correctly." He finished his Redvine, letting Cleo take his hand. He ran his thumb over her hand. "I'm ready when you are. You can borrow my flannel if you're not warm enough."

"Every inch," Cleo repeated incredulously as she rolled her eyes, still smiling. "I know the woods super well, yeah, so I can acquaint you with it." She looked down at his hand, then to the flannel at his waist, and then back up to him. "Would you need a sweater from me then?"

Graves couldn't help but grin as Cleo rolled her eyes. His gaze drifted down to their hands, fingers laced together. The flowers inked on her skin caught his eye and he tried to trace the one on her thumb. He looked up, "Oh, no. Thanks, but I run warm. I'll be okay."

Cleo kept an eye on their hands, looking up so that she could smile at him. "Fine, then we should go, because I'm okay too." She tugged him slightly as she led them out of her kitchen, but dropped his hand so that she could run into her room and turn off her music. "I don't want my speaker to die," she explained as she returned to his side.

He tilted his head, waiting for Cleo to reappear from her room. "Makes sense," Graves nodded. He held out his hand, almost shyly, for her to take. "Lead the way, Bancroft."

Cleo took his hand, not really expecting him to offer his hand up when she returned. She led him out of the cabin and into the twilight. She inhaled and closed her eyes, smiling. "This is my favourite time of day. Dusk."

Graves followed Cleo outside, looking up at the sky. "I think I like golden hour best. But this is real decent." He smiled, letting her pull him onto a path that led to the woods. "D'you spend a lot of time out here?"

“How else do you think I know every inch?” Cleo asked with a smile. She ran her thumb over Graves’s knuckles softly. “You spend more time at the lava wall than in the woods?”

“Ah, duh. Stupid question.” He mentally smacked himself and hoped he wasn’t blushing in embarrassment. He flicked his eyes down at their hands, watching Cleo run her thumb over his knuckles. Graves trusted her to lead him while he wasn’t paying attention, knowing she wouldn’t let him trip or fall. “I spend more time at the lake or river I think. Although you know I love the lava wall.”

Cleo smiled at him, then pulled him off of the path to a section of trees that were fairly close together. There was a sort of man-made path there, only indicated by the trampled grass and other markers, if you looked closely. “Always need to be close to the water?”

Graves couldn’t tell where they were going on the fading light but Cleo moved with such ease, it was clear she’d walked this trail often. He stepped over a raised tree root, careful not to trip. “Mhm, yeah. I always feel more grounded when I can hear the waves.” He avoided another root. “Ma’am where are you taking me?”

Cleo walked slowly, aware of the fact that Graves wasn't as used to this part of the woods as she was. "Ah." She nodded in understanding. "Ocean boy." She flashed a small smile at him. "Do you like surprises?"

“Bancroft. Who doesn’t like surprises?” He tapped her knuckles with his thumb. “Of course I do. I’m just impatient is all.”

Cleo laughed and pulled him further into the forest, past gnarled roots, which she stepped over carefully, and around large trees, which she skirted around. She obviously knew this path well, with the way she was walking it in the fading light, and she pointed out a few tricky spots to get over to Graves. Eventually, they emerged into a clearing, which was fairly well-lit, due to the clear sky and waning but near-full moon. Fireflies dotted the clearing, and floated in patterns around the center of it. As they stepped out, Cleo smiled up at Graves. "Surprise?"

Graves felt like they’d stepped into the labyrinth with all the twists and turns their path took. With help from Cleo, he managed not to stumble at all on their way to the clearing. When they stepped into the open, Graves blinked in surprise, his eyes adjusting to the light. The moon was big and the sky glittered with stars. “Woah...this, this is awesome.” He let go of Cleo’s hand, reaching out to catch a firefly. With a soft smile, Graves held his hand out to her, firefly faintly glowing in his palm.

Cleo beamed at him, happy that he seemed so pleased with their destination. She stepped further into the clearing as he let go of her hand, but turned so that she was still facing him. "Gods, I remember when I first found this place. I thought it was, like, enchanted or something. Now I know it is."

The firefly took off, light flickering as it left Graves’ palm. He took a few steps forward, following Cleo into the heart of the clearing. “Enchanted?” He asked. He held out his hand, trying to scoop another firefly out of the air.

Cleo caught a firefly and opened her hands to examine the blinking bug. "Yeah. Isn't it magical? I legitimately thought these were, like, floating lights or fairies or something."

"I love that," Graves said. He looked over at Cleo, grinning proudly to show her the two fireflies he'd caught. "I definitely thought fireflies were fairies as a kid." He took another step towards her before moving to sit in the grass. He patted the spot next to him, looking up at her.

Cleo grinned approvingly at Graves's catch, then took a seat next to him. "I was fourteen, but I'd never seen them before, so that's my excuse."

Graves stuck his tongue out at Cleo. "I grew up hearing all these wild stories about gods and monsters and prophecies from my grandma. That is my excuse." He leaned back in the grass, propping himself up with his good arm and looked up at the sky. "The stars are so bright," he said quietly.

Cleo laughed. "I wasn't making fun of you! I was just saying I wasn't a kid. Or, I guess I was. Fourteen is still a kid." She tipped her head back and leaned back on her hands, then her elbows. "Yeah. The moon was full two nights ago."

He scooted a little closer to Cleo, then laid down fully, the soft ground comfortable beneath his back. Graves raised his arm, pointing to a cluster of stars in the sky. "There's the Big Dipper," he smiled.

Cleo smiled as she noticed him move closer, then laid down fully. She moved his arm over so that he was pointing elsewhere in the sky. "And there's Orion."

Keeping their hands together, Graves steered their pointed fingers to another constellation. He squinted. "That's Leo." He turned his head to look at Cleo, "Do you have a favorite?"

Cleo smiled as her hand was taken in Graves’s and turned her head to look at him. “Gemini.” She watched him through blades of grass. “I like the story. What about you?”

"Draco. I've always liked the story too." He looked back up at the sky and sighed contentedly. "I didn't expect my day to go like this."

"Do you like dragons?" Cleo felt her arm growing tired but did not want to let go of his hand, and left it. She watched him as he watched the sky. "How were you expecting it to go?"

“Who doesn’t like dragons? They’re so cool. I can’t believe they’re real, honestly. The gods? No problem. Dragons? Mind-blowing.” Graves pointed out another constellation, the Big Dipper, before lowering his arm. He didn’t let go of Cleo’s hand, resting their arms in the grass between them. “I don’t know. No brainer that I lost round 3 today, like this. But I didn’t even know if you’d be home. Or want to hang out, I just kinda, showed up.” He laughed a little.

Cleo laughed. “Was that a byproduct of being raised by a psychic? Like, ‘oh yeah, gods and that– wait, did you say dragons?’” She smiled and looked up finally as he lowered their hands. “The fact that you even competed is impressive, honestly.” She scanned the sky, almost in disbelief of how clear the night was. “Why wouldn’t I want to hang out?” She turned to look at him again, running her thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m glad you showed up.”

Graves smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Maybe. My gran used to tell me the craziest stories." His smile widened, and he bumped her shoulder gently, moving a little closer to her. "Impressive, mhm. That's twice tonight you've said that." He turned his head to look and Cleo and winked before looking back up at the sky. "I dunno, maybe you had other plans." He laughed. Graves turned to look at her again, running his thumb over her hand as well, "I'm glad you brought me here."

Cleo looked at him again when he bumped her shoulder and smiled at him. "Keeping track? Should I say it more?" She laughed. "Am I lame for not doing anything but sit in my room doing my nails on a Saturday night?" She smiled and checked the hand that wasn't holding Graves's. The polish was smudged, but she didn't care. She dropped her hand again and turned onto her side, facing him. "I'm glad too. This is one of my favourite places in the world."

"Actually, you've said it three times, but one of them you were referrin' to my swords so..." He gave her hand a little squeeze then rolled onto his side to face her. "Y'can say it as many time as you like. Nah, nah that's not lame at all. Maybe I should paint my nails." Graves laughed a little. "In the world? And you brought me here?" He raised an eyebrow at Cleo, teasing her.

Cleo smiled as Graves turned to face her. “Maybe I won’t say it at all, now that I know you like it so much.” She glanced down, as though she would be able to see his hand in the dim lighting, then looked back up. “I can do your nails for you. Not now, obvi, but sometime.” She pressed her cheek into the earth, obscuring her face slightly behind the grass. “Yeah, but only because you looked so hapless. I guess I won’t make a habit of it, if you don’t like it.”

Graves exhaled through his nose. "I knew I shouldn't've said a thing." He peered at Cleo through the blades of grass between them. "That would be fun. I could...try to do yours? No promises on how they turn out." He scoffed. "Hapless?" He shook his head. "Nah, nah I love it. I could come here every day and it would be just as enchanting."

Cleo found that she had a hard time not smiling at him. "Maybe so." She ran her thumb over his. "I'd like that. Maybe it's your hidden talent." She moved her legs so that her knee was against his. "Yeah, like, you look all sad and unfortunate, so I needed to take you somewhere to cheer you up." She smiled somehow wider and turned her head to try to look up out of the clearing at the stars again. "Yeah," she exhaled the word with a breath. "It's... near perfect. Maybe just perfect."

"Yeah," he snorted. "With my luck, it might be." Graves was very aware of Cleo's knee pressed against his; he edged a little closer, pressing more of his leg against her own. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and propped himself up on his elbow, trying to get more comfortable. He rested the side of his head in his hand and studied Cleo's face as she looked at the stars, a faint smile on his lips. A lock of hair was curled against her neck and Graves wished his arm wasn't in a sling, wished that he could reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear. He blinked a few times and swallowed, surprised at himself, then glanced up at the sky. "Near perfect?" Graves turned to look at Cleo, a gleam in his eye. His voice was low as he spoke. "And how, ma'am, can I make this night perfect?"

"With your luck." Cleo smiled. "You're saying that like you aren't lucky. Aren't you supposed to be my good luck charm? If you're defective, I might have to send you back." When he let go of her hand, she turned over a bit more, resting her hand on her stomach as she scanned over constellations. As he spoke, she looked at him again, then propped herself up on an elbow to bring herself to his level. She smiled slightly, somewhat sadly, and reached out to brush her fingertips over his cheek, down across his jaw, then dropped her hand. "Don't be so hurt?" She sighed and then sat up, tilting her head back to observe the sky fully. "Bring me back to Portland?"

"Dislocated shoulder certainly sounds defective, you better ship me back," he joked. Graves closed his eyes, exhaling softly as he felt Cleo's fingertips on his jaw. He tilted his head into her touch without realizing it, but as quickly as her touch had come, it was gone. "Bancroft..." he breathed, but even as he started his sentence, he knew it had no end. He opened his eyes and frowned a little as she leaned away, then looked up at the sky again. Graves found the moon and focused on it, trying to ground himself. "I'll be better in a few days. L said I can probably use my arm again by the weekend. It's not too bad." He glanced at Cleo before looking back at the moon. "I would drive you to Portland if you really wanted. You miss it?"

When Graves said her name, Cleo glanced back over to him, but it didn’t look as though he had any intention of finishing his sentence. She wrapped her arms around her bare legs, suddenly noticing that she was cold out in the woods in pajama shorts and a big shirt. “That’s good,” she said as she looked back at him, happy that magic would be able to help her friend. She rested her chin on her knees. “Yeah,” she confirmed with a small sigh. “A drive might be pretty long though.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Graves saw Cleo wrap her arms around herself and he realized she was cold. Without much difficulty, he pushed himself into a sitting position and untied the flannel from around his waist with his good hand. "Hey, here. Put this on," he held it out to her before turning back to the sky. His eyes fell on the mermaid on her leg and Graves quickly looked away. "Yeah," he nodded, in response to her earlier comment. "I can't wait to be out of this sling. And it would be a long drive, but who doesn't like a roadtrip?" He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, looking at Cleo again. "Are you warm enough now?"

Cleo noticed the movement behind her, but didn’t turn around until he was holding his flannel out for her. She accepted it with a soft smile and pulled it on, noticing his glance at her leg, but choosing not to comment on it. “Do you like me enough to go on a roadtrip with me?” she teased, then pulled her shirt up a bit so that she could shove her knees into it. “Um, yeah. Are you?”

"Fuck no, Bancroft. I'd get sick of you after a day." Graves stuck his tongue out at Cleo and laughed lightly, making sure she knew he was teasing as well. When she tucked her knees into her shirt, his playful expression turned soft. He scrubbed his face with his hand, mumbling, "oh my gods." He shook his head. "Huh? Oh yeah, I run warm. I'm like a furnace. See?" He held out his arm to her.

“A day?” Cleo asked, somewhat incredulous as she laughed. She tilted her head at him when he rubbed his face, then rested her cheek on her knees. “What?” She scooted a bit closer to him and took his hand, then pressed it to her cheek. “Very warm. Why do boys run so hot?”

"Nah, I take it back. Maybe after a week." He smiled, then shook his head before burying his face in his knees. "You're adorable Bancroft," Graves' voice came out muffled. He didn't raise his head until she took his hand. His bashful expression was gone, replaced with a cocky grin. He arched an eyebrow. "I don't know about other boys, but I run hot because I am hot." He winked.

“Okay, a week I can work with.” She laughed, then bit her lip when he called her adorable. Cleo felt the heat in her cheeks begin to rise slightly, but didn’t drop his hand until after she turned her face and kissed his palm. “You’re the one who says things like ‘ma’am’ and gives me his sweater.” She exhaled a small laugh. “Let’s go with that. So can you be my good luck charm and my personal space heater?”

Graves was surprised when Cleo kissed his palm, the feel of her lips sending a shiver across his skin. It took everything he had to keep his expression neutral as she dropped his hand. He fidgeted with the cropped hem of his shirt. "I was raised in the south! 'Course I say 'ma'am'." He shook his head, exhaling. "I'll always offer you my sweater when you're cold, Bancroft." The way he said it, it sounded like a promise. He held his arm out and nodded his head with a laugh. "Yeah, I think I can do that. C'mere."

Cleo let her eyes drop to his midriff again and she balled her hands around the fabric of his sweater, letting the sleeves cover her hands. She smiled, looking back up at his face. "And that makes you adorable, Cameron." She hadn't expected him to offer her a hug, but she tried to scoot over when he held his arm out. With the way her legs were tucked into her shirt, she ended up flopping over next to him instead, and looked up at him, laughing. "Oh my gods." She wiggled her legs free and then sat up again, this time to lean against him. "This is amazing. I'm hijacking your heat."

Normally, Graves would’ve protested at being called ‘adorable’ but between the sight of Cleo wrapped in his too-large flannel and the glances she kept stealing at him as if he wouldn’t notice, he found that he didn’t really mind. When Cleo toppled over, he put his hand out to help her back up, laughing. He pulled her into his side and after a moment, rested his head on hers. “Take as much of it as you need, I’ve got warmth to spare.”

Cleo wiggled ever closer to Graves, resting her head back against his shoulder. She pulled her hands out from the sleeves finally and pressed one up his shirt, against his back, partially for the shock, but also to see if he was being serious about letting her take as much heat as she wanted. "What if I need it all?"

Graves jolted when Cleo pressed her icy hand against his back, his eyes wide. He never thought someone’s hands could get so cold. “Oh my gods! Bancroft!” He laughed, dodging to the side to escape the chill of her touch. He leaned a little too far to the right, and without his arm to steady himself, started to fall over. “Shit!” He twisted, tipping backwards with a laugh and pulling Cleo down into the grass with him. “How are you that cold?”

Cleo squeaked as she fell beside Graves, but laughed once she was on the ground. “Um, because I’m not wearing pants out in the middle of the woods? You should feel my legs right now, I sure can’t.” She sighed and rolled over to look at the sky again. “Speaking of, I know we haven’t been here long, but would you mind if we headed back to camp soon? Before I turn into a human icicle.”

"Shit, if your hands are that cold, I bet your legs are freezing. I can't have a Croftsicle on my hands." Graves slowly climbed to his feet and reached his hand out to help Cleo up. "C'mon, let's get you home before you're frozen solid. I can't carry you right now," he laughed and flashed her a grin.

Cleo laughed and pushed herself up, taking his hand once she was sitting, and not dropping it once she was standing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried, honestly.” She smiled back at him and pulled him back the way they came, pulling out her phone to use the flashlight this time.

Graves followed Cleo down the path back to the cabins. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t think about tryin’.” He smiled, even though she couldn’t see that he had, and gave her hand a squeeze. “I promised L I wouldn’t do anythin’ that could make my shoulder worse though.” His foot caught on a tree root and he stumbled for a second but quickly righted himself.(edited)

“You dope,” Cleo chastised with a shake of her head, clearly amused. She squeezed his hand back when he almost fell, stopping so that she might be able to help him up. “Oh my gods. You’re gonna have L find me and kill me herself if you fall.” She slowed down a bit so that they could step over roots and branches more easily, eventually finding themselves back out on the path. Once back to her cabin, she kissed his knuckles before dropping his hand so that she could unlock and open the door. “Did you leave anything inside?”

"I'll be fine, I'm fine! L won't come hunt you down," Graves swallowed a laugh, being extra careful not to trip for the remainder of their walk. He bit his lip as Cleo kissed his knuckles, looking away, trying to hide the smile tugging at his the corner of his lips. He looked back at her as she opened the door. "Hmm, I can't remember what I had, other than my flannel."

Cleo tilted her head as she smiled at him and stepped inside. "Huh, that's funny. I don't remember you having a flannel at all."

He stepped inside, right behind her and caught her hand. A grin was plastered to his face. "Ma'am, am I, the son of the god of thieves, bein' robbed right now?"

Cleo turned to look at Graves, grinning mischievously. "Are you? That'd be such a shame."

Graves tugged on Cleo’s hand, pulling her closer. He raised an eyebrow. “That’d be a damn shame, considering that’s my favorite flannel.”

"Oh my gods," Cleo smiled up at Graves as she was pulled in. "You lost your favourite flannel? That's so sad."

“Heartbreakin', really.” He couldn’t stop smiling at her.

"Heartbreaking?" Cleo asked dramatically, touching her hand to her cheek as she gasped softly. "What will we ever do about this?"

"Heartbreakin'," Graves repeated, his expression mournful. He squeezed her hand then tilted his head. "Did you hear that? That, darlin', was the sound of my heart, just shatterin'. It's in a million pieces now." He looked at her with his best puppy dog eyes and sighed dramatically. "I don't know how I'll ever put it back together."

Cleo tried to keep up with the playful energy, but upon being called darlin’ and then immediately being flashed puppy dog eyes, she melted. “Oh my gods, Cameron, don’t look at me like that.” She laughed as she spoked, then stepped backwards, pulling him along by his hand toward her room. “I know about heartbreak, and if there’s anything that can put it back together, it’s ABBA.”

"Like what?! I don't know what you're talkin' about," he laughed, following Cleo as she pulled him into her room. Once inside, he dramatically sank to his knees, still clutching her hand. "Yes, please. I'm beggin' you, Bancroft. Put my heart back together before I just die."

“You know what I’m talking about,” Cleo scoffed. She shook her head at him, then laughed as he dropped down to his knees. “You, Cameron middle name Graves, are too much.” She laughed and pulled her hand free to grab her phone, then pulled up the ABBA radio, put it on shuffle, and pressed a hand to her chest as SOS began to play. She reached for him dramatically and then put a hand to her head as though feeling faint, acting out the lyrics.

"Alexander," he offered simply. Still on his knees, Graves looked up as Cleo put on some music. He ran his hand through his hair and smirked at her, "Cameron Alexander Graves. For future reference." When she began to sing, his expression morphed into one of delight and he burst into laughter, reaching for her just as dramatically.

“Okay,” Cleo answered. “Cameron Alexander Graves, you are too much.” She grabbed his cheeks. “So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me S.O.S” She laughed as she sang and then backed up. “Do you not know this song? Should I change it to another?”

Graves smiled and his nose crinkled as Cleo grabbed his face. He watched her act out the performance, his smile growing as she sang to him. "I've heard it? But I don't know the words. It's a crime, I know." He reached his hand out when she backed up to change the song, "Help me up?"

“You don’t know the words?” Cleo gasped dramatically and reached out to take his hand to help him up. “It is a crime!”

“I know this one!” Once he was on his feet, Graves dramatically clutched his heart and spun around Cleo, acting out the song as he sang. “I've been cheated by you since you know when.”

Cleo laughed at Graves's dramatization. "You should have stayed on your knees for this!" She picked up a hairbrush from her desk and sang into it as though it was a microphone.

"You prefer that?" He raised his eyebrows at her and sunk to his knees again with a smirk, still singing along. Cleo's makeshift microphone made him laugh and he stopped singing for a moment, smiling up at her.

Cleo laughed harder and touched her hand to his cheek as she sang. When the song was over, she smiled, then dropped down to her knees as well so that she could press a palm to his chest. “How’s the heart?”

"It's doin' a little better. Not quite repaired yet, though." Graves covered her hand with his own. "That thief really did a number on me, ma'am. A shame we'll never catch her."

Cleo tossed her hairbrush onto her bed and smiled at him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Can I do anything to help?”

"Hmm..." He dropped Cleo's hand and stood, walking over to her desk chair. Before he sat down, he tapped the flannel draped along the back of the chair and raised an eyebrow at her. It was another one of his; he recognized it immediately but didn't say a word as he their eyes met. Graves sat down in the chair and spun to face Cleo. "Serenade me some more maybe?"

As Graves stood, Cleo pretended not to notice the fact that there was another stolen flannel on her chair. She got to her feet once he was sitting and grinned at him. As the next song began, she clasped her hands. “Ugh, okay, perfect timing. This is my favourite one.” She danced around the room at the intro to Voulez-Vous. She sang along to the song and eventually rested a hand on his shoulder to sing directly to him, taking a break only to laugh.

"Your favorite? Okay, okay." He listened to the song for a moment and realization dawned; she had the title of the song tattooed on her inner elbow, Graves had seen it a few times. He watched her dance and sing along with the song, unable to keep a smile off his face. When Cleo placed her hand on his shoulder, he bit his lip to stifle a laugh and shook his head lightly. "And you say I'm too much, Bancroft."

"You are too much!" She grinned widely at him. "But that doesn't mean that I am not also too much." Cleo pressed her hand into the side of Graves's neck and took a seat on his left leg. "It makes us a good pair, yeah?"

"I- yeah," Graves faltered at her touch. He tilted his chin upward slightly, the movement automatic. "Too much, " he inhaled as she sat down. He felt his cheeks get hot and gave Cleo a curious look. "Debatable," he hummed, wrapping his arm around her waist to make sure she didn't fall if he moved. "Who's askin'?"

Cleo tilted her head at him, pleased as he moved his arm around her. She ran her thumb over his jaw. "I just did, didn't you hear me?" she joked.

Graves closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for a moment. After Cleo's comment, he tried to come up with a clever retort, but found himself to flustered to say anything at all. Not wanting to ignore her completely, Graves made a sound in acknowledgement. He opened his eyes and stared at her in a daze, chin still tilted upward, feeling her fingers trace their way across his jaw.

Cleo was glad that the music was still playing, since the moment of silence between them was enough to make her stomach flip. She lifted her hand to rest in her lap instead and looked away from him, but didn't move. "What's your favourite ABBA song?"

When Cleo dropped her hand from his jaw, a small frown flashed across Graves' face, but as quick as it had appeared, it vanished. Since she made no move to get up, he kept his arm around her waist, reclining slightly in the chair. "Hmm...'Does Your Mother Know?' is a good one. But 'Waterloo' and 'Andante' are also great." He smiled at her. "I assume your favorites are the two inked on your arms?" His gaze drifted from her eyes, across her lips, and finally arrived at the words tattooed to her inner elbows.

Cleo looked back at him as he leaned back, and rested a hand on his chest with a small smile. "Those are all amazing songs. I think they're in my top five more often than not." She turned a bit to face him as she flipped her arms out to show them off, as though they were visible under the flannel she was wearing. "Sure are. It'd be kinda silly otherwise." She laughed.

"Did you doubt my taste in music?" Graves asked, willfully ignoring the accelerated pace of his heart. He silently prayed to the gods that Cleo couldn't feel it racing through his chest. He grinned, "I love that. I don't have any musical tattoos...yet."

"Not too much, but not knowing the words earlier knocked you down a peg." Cleo smiled as she shook her head. "Do you know what you'd get, and where?" She leaned against him and tilted her head, looking down at him as if surveying where she'd put a tattoo on his body.

He laughed at that and gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m not sure, but...” Graves paused, shifting so Cleo could lean against him without pressing again his injured arm. He followed her gaze and smiled, continuing his train of thought. “Maybe you could help me decide.”

Cleo made sure not to put too much of her weight down into Graves, pushing some of the weight into where her toes met the ground. “Hm.” She pressed her lips together and ran her fingers along the collar of her shirt, running them from his collarbone to the nape of his neck. She met his eyes once more. “Both? What’s your favorite song? One you could never get sick of?”

Cleo’s fingers on his neck tickled and Graves tried not to squirm beneath her touch. He closed his eyes briefly, breathing in through his nose. When he opened them again, he met Cleo’s brown eyes with his hazel ones and smiled softly. “Both, why not? That’s your thing right?” Graves dropped his arm for a second, so that he could tap two fingers to the tattoos on her leg. Tapping turned into lightly tracing one of her tattoos and he quickly stopped himself, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “My favorite song? Bancroft, gods.” He hooked his arm around her waist again, this time pulling her slightly closer, humming as he thought of a song. “Fuck, I dunno. Something by the Front Bottoms probably,” he paused, then mumbled. “Can’t think...um...maybe ‘Twin Sized Mattress’? Have you, um, heard of them?”

As she reached the nape of his neck, Cleo rested her arm on Graves’s shoulder and played with the hair at the back of his head idly, glancing down as he touched her leg. She bit her lip, smiling slightly when he started tracing over her tattoos, goosebumps prickling her arms as he did. She leaned into him as he pulled her closer, and tilted her head to scan his face. “I, uh, no, I don’t think so. Maybe if you played one of their songs?” She checked the front pocket of the flannel and pulled out her phone with the hand not playing with Graves’s hair. “What were they called?”

Graves relaxed, feeling Cleo run her fingers through his hair. Even though his hair was  trimmed shorter in the back than on top, his waves were still long enough for her fingers to twine through. He smiled and bit his lip as Cleo tilted her head towards him. “The Front Bottoms, thought I’m not sure if you’ll like ‘em.”

Cleo turned on the song once she found it, and leaned against Graves as she listened, letting her hand travel further up the back of his head through his hair. She waited until the song was over to speak again, looking at him seriously. "They're not really my kind of music, but... they seem very you." She nodded. "I don't think I got all the lyrics, but it seems potent. You should get the words jaws theme song tattooed onto you."

He tipped his head back so Cleo didn’t have to reach very far to play with his hair. As the song played, Graves was hit with a wave of nostalgia. The song reminded him of summers back home, spent driving his friends around in his beat-up pickup truck: windows down, music blasting. The song ended and the weight of Cleo’s look dragged him out of his memory. “I love them, they make me think of summer.” Graves grinned, trying not to laugh. “I dunno about that phrase, but I’d let you give me a tiny shark tooth tattoo. Maybe. As for lyrics I’d want tattooed? I’ve always liked contribute to the chaos - what do you think?” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Put on ‘Peach’, you’ll like that one better.”

"I love things like that." She smiled, thinking about things that reminded her of home, of a certain feeling. "It's like how a smell can whip you straight back into a classroom when you were in third grade." Cleo grinned. "You'd let me give you a shark tooth tattoo? I'll absolutely hold you to that, you know. I think that phrase is pretty perfect for you, though," she said, still carding her fingers through his hair. She nodded and changed the song, slowly untangling herself from him so that she could sit up and press her hand to her hot cheek. "Gods," she exhaled the word. "This song is really cute."

“What smell takes you back to your third grade classroom?” Graves pressed his cheek to his shoulder, hiding his laughter. He turned back to face her. “Absolutely, yeah. I love that line. Honestly, Bancroft, I’d let you give me a few tattoos.” He nuzzled his head into her hand, enjoying the feeling of her fingers in his unruly hair. When she changed the song, he turned to watch her face, humming softly along. “Cute, yeah. I love that one. I don’t know if they have any other songs you’d like, though. What’s your favorite non-ABBA song?”

“Hush up, I was talking figuratively.” Cleo laughed, trying not to sound too embarrassed. “Like you know when you hear a song or smell something and it takes you right back to a specific moment and it’s just so... whatever.” She shook her head and then smiled at him again. “Good. Once you’re healed up, come to me and I can give you one. It’ll be hand-poked so make sure you want something small or are prepared for it to hurt a bit.” She squinted as she tried to think, though it seemed like all the songs she knew left her head the moment he asked. “At the moment? Do you know Tegan and Sara?”

"Hey, I knew what you were talkin' about! There's a lot of songs that do that for me." He nudged her again and smiled, reassuring her that he hadn't been making fun of her. As she talked about tattoos, Graves' eyes glinted with mischief. "Only one? Well, alright. I think I can handle one hand-poke. Haven't you seen how many tattoos I have?" He laughed, pausing for a moment to think of the artist Cleo had named. "I don't think so? Play me your favorite of their songs?" With a soft smile, he quietly added, "Please?"

Cleo pouted down at Graves but smiled at him after a moment. "Okay, tough guy, in that case, I'll give you ten." She pressed her lips together and flushed, ducking her face away from him as he asked for her to play the song. She played it and stood, shaking her head at him. "You asked for this song without knowing... but it's impossible not to dance to." She laughed and started swaying around, then started jumping around as the beat picked up, laughing as she spun and held out a hand to him.

Graves scrunched his nose and laughed. "Ten? I can handle it, bring it on." He grinned and flexed his bicep, as if that would prove just how tough he was. He bopped his head along to the first few notes of the song, standing to take Cleo's hand with a bright smile. They danced for a few minutes, Graves laughing as he tried to keep up with her. He lifted his arm to twirl Cleo and pulled her close to him just before the song ended. His cheeks flushed and he looked away, breathless from dancing.

Cleo laughed, dancing along with him as she sang a few parts of the song. She took a moment to catch her breath and then grinned up at him and pulled away. “So that’s walk, check, dramatic karaoke, check. Anything else on the agenda?”

“Nah, I think we just about covered it all.” Graves stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled, flashing Cleo a sheepish grin.

“How dare you yawn.” Cleo laughed, stifling her own yawn as she took a seat on her bed. “It’s cool, I’m getting tired too. Gods, what an exciting Saturday night. Karaoke and in bed before midnight.”

Graves yawned again, trying not to laugh. "Don't forget hiking and stargazing. Ma'am you've had too much excitement for one night. I should- um," he gestured vaguely in the direction of the door.

Cleo smiled and watched him from where she sat on her bed. “Yeah.” She bit her lip. “Is it, um, hard to sleep with your shoulder like that?”

Graves blinked, “Oh, um. Yeah, I‘m supposed to keep the sling on and try sleep on my back but it’s not...that easy.”

She pursed her lips. “Would it be easier if, like, someone slept with you to make sure you stayed on your back? I mean, maybe you’re just a back sleeper, but, I dunno, I was just... thinking, I guess.”

His ears pinked as Graves tried not to smile. “It...would definitely be easier. I usually, um, sleep on my side.” He raised an eyebrow, “Is that, like, are you asking me to stay?”

Cleo half-rolled her eyes but stopped herself because yes, that was indeed what she was asking him. “Not if you don’t want to. Just, like, if you wanted to.” She felt her face grow hot.

“Really?” Graves looked away, hiding his goofy smile. “Yeah, I want to. You sure that’s okay?” He glanced back up at her, grinning from ear to ear.

Cleo pulled her shirt collar up over her nose so that he couldn’t see her smile. “Um, yeah, so long as you don’t mind a twin-point-five,” she said, letting her shirt drop back down as she patted her bed. “And do you need to borrow some sort of toothbrush? Or a shirt to sleep in?”

“Nah, I don’t- I don’t mind at all. A toothbrush would be great.” Graves rubbed his eye, a wave of exhaustion settling in now that they were talking about sleep. “Um, I can just? Sleep in this, I guess.”

"Okay." Cleo nodded and stood. She walked through her door and motioned for him to follow, leading them to her bathroom. She squatted down to look below the sink and pulled out a pack of cheap toothbrushes, then handed him one. "Got these a while back. So handy when your friends need to stay over because they're too drunk." She glanced up at him. "Or just cause." She smiled a bit and picked up her own toothbrush so that she could brush her teeth.

He followed Cleo into the bathroom, accepting the toothbrush with a quiet, “Thanks.” Graves brushed his teeth in silence, standing shoulder to shoulder with Cleo. He met her eyes in the bathroom mirror and winked, smiling around the toothbrush.

As she brushed her teeth, Cleo tried not to think about Bring it On, and instead tried to think about dental hygiene. She exhaled a small laugh through her nose, then spit, rinsed, and raised her eyebrows at him as she continues to brush her teeth.

Graves raised his eyebrows in return, spit, rinsed, and continued to brush his teeth, trying all the while not to laugh.

Cleo spit again and snorted as she rinsed out her mouth, leaning against the sink as she descended into a fit of giggles.

Graves finished brushing his teeth, looking at Cleo as he rinsed his toothbrush. "What? Do I have toothpaste on my face?"

“No.” She laughed, not quite sure as to why she was laughing. “You were giving me a look.”

Graves squinted, smirking. "Was I? Maybe it was just my normal expression."

Cleo shook her head, still grinning, as she clipped her hair back. “Well I guess you just have a funny normal expression, then.” She splashed water on her face.

"Harsh, Bancroft," he laughed, running a hand through his hair and moving to lean against the doorframe.

After Cleo washed her face, she turned to Graves, flushed, and led him back to her room, where she took off his flannel and draped it over his other flannel on the back of her chair. She looked from her bed to him and tilted her head. “I guess you can sleep on the outside and I’ll weigh you down on your left side? So you can’t roll over.”

Graves eyed Cleo's desk chair, shaking his head. "Are you just collectin' my flannels? Is that the fee to be graced with your presence?" He eyed her bed. "Um, yeah. That works, I guess." He blushed.

Cleo exhaled a laugh and climbed into bed. “Fee for being graced with my presence. I like that, yeah, let’s call it that.” She patted the space beside her. “If you wanna just walk home and not have me wrapped around you like an anchor that cool too.”

"Oh, no. Please. No, I'm stayin'." Graves blinked a few times, feeling his contacts still in his eyes. He knew he was going to regret sleeping in them come morning, but right now, he couldn't give a damn. He adjusted the strap of his sling and got into bed, taking the spot beside Cleo a little hesitantly.

Cleo shifted over as he got into bed and leaned over to turn her lamp off. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness to adjust her position against him. She rested her head on his shoulder but didn’t immediately wrap around him. “Comfy?”

Graves blinked in the darkness, then stretched out his arm so Cleo could rest more comfortably on him. He took a deep breath, feeling his cheeks get hot. "Um, yeah. Yes. Are you?"

Cleo cuddled closer to him, shifting a bit so that she was more comfortable. She hummed, then rolled over, still against him, and wrapped both of her arms around his, hugging it to her chest. “Yeah.”

"Okay, good," he answered, his voice low. Graves smiled as Cleo wrapped herself around his arm and pulled her a tiny bit closer. "Thanks for letting me stay," he whispered.

Cleo pressed her cheek against his arm and hooked her foot around his ankle. “Thanks for being my body pillow space heater,” she whispered back.

Graves let his eyes drift closed. "Anytime, Bancroft," he mumbled, voice heavy with sleep now that his head was on a pillow.

[halfgclden]

Ten Things | Graves&Cleo

DATE: April 21st, 2020 SUMMARY: 1.sweet tea, 2.iced chai, 3.woods, 4.cabin, 5.wine, 6.movie night, 7.snacks, 8.masquerade, 9.discussion of love??, 10.to be continued ? 

Cleo stepped out of the bookstore, locked the door, turned, and blinked at Graves standing nears the storefront. She smiled at him, gave her Signature Wave™️, and stepped closer. "Fancy meeting you here. Were you looking to buy a book, because I'm afraid that's off the table now, since..." She held up the keys and then pocketed them.

Graves had been waiting outside the bookstore, sipping his iced tea when Cleo walked out. He grinned and shook the drink he’d grabbed for her in response to her wave™️ . The ice cubes clinked in the cup. “Iced chai for you ma’am.” He laughed, “No books for me, I’m here for you.”

Cleo grinned widely and took her drink. She sipped it and swayed from side to side. "Aw!" She pressed a hand to her cheek. "Cameron, you make me blush," she said as if they hadn't planned to hang out today already. She tilted her head as she smiled at him. "Good to go? Are you ready to watch probably the best movie you've ever seen in your life?"

He rolled his eyes , but the smile didn't leave his face. "Gods, Bancroft." Graves could feel his own cheeks getting hot but he ignored it and held out his arm. "Good to go! The best movie? That I've ever seen in my life? Well, that would be Mad Max: Fury Road - are we watching that?"

Cleo linked her arm around Graves's and walked with him as she snorted. "Okay, okay, I'll give you that that's a good movie, but it doesn't hold a candle to 10 Things I Hate About You. Modern Shakespeare adaptations? Um, yes please." She sipped her drink and looked up at him. "What did you do today?"

"You mean young Heath Ledger, yes please. Talk about a teen heartthrob." Graves grinned when Cleo snorted, then took a sip of his sweet tea. He let her lead the way as they walked. "Oh, you know. The usual. Broke some hearts, raised some hell. Managed to get up the climbing wall without getting burned by lava. How was work?"

"I know. He's the highlight of the movie. But, oh my gods, there's also young Joseph Gordon-Levitt in it and ugh. He's so cute!" Cleo grinned. "His name's Cameron, weird coincidence." She hummed as they walked, bobbing her head from side to side as she led them to and through the path through the woods to camp. "Ugh, amazing. I still can't get up that wall, it's a trap, I swear. Work was... slow, but nice. I got halfway through the book I'm working on."

Graves fanned himself dramatically. "What an attractive cast, honestly." Laughing, he shook his head. "Another Cameron? Huh, is that why you want me to watch this? What book are you working on! And next time you want to do the climbing wall, I can spot you?"

Cleo shook her head as she sipped her drink. “No, Cameron’s plot is secondary, I’m afraid, even though he’s so cute. I’m working on this one called Red, White, and Royal Blue, and it’s utterly adorable. It’s about the son of the president– a fictional president, obvi, and the prince of Wales and they’re bitter rivals but then... they fall in love!” She announced dramatically. “I love it.” She smiled at him. “I can’t say I’ve been on the wall lately or plan on going anytime soon, honestly, but that makes me consider it more.”

"Ugh, love. Gross, " Graves joked, sticking his tongue out at Cleo. "TBH that sounds...kinda cute. I'm really glad there are books with queer love stories in them now. It's pretty fuckin' cool." He returned her smile. "Just let me know if you do, I'll keep workin' out so I can catch you if you fall." He unlinked their arms to give his biceps an exaggerated flex. "These arms gotta be good for somethin'."

Cleo stuck her tongue out back at Graves. "Yeah, saying that gay love is gross is... a little homophobic, Cam," she joked and then bobbed her head. "Yeah, it'd be cute if it wasn't gay, but that's kind of why I started reading it." She turned so that she was facing him more and grinned, still walking. "Maybe I'll just throw myself off the wall, with an offer like that."

"Shut up, Bancroft." Graves laughed. "I am not homophobic, do you know how aggressively not-straight I am? I was sayi- you're teasing me, aren't you? Rude." He tripped immediately after Cleo spoke and took a second to regain his composure, laughing at himself. "My gods. Guess I'll just have to catch you then. Can't have you getting hurt, ma'am." He flexed again and bit his lip, before offering his arm to Cleo again.

Cleo laughed at how defensive he got and nodded. "I'm absolutely teasing you, but go on, please." She raised her eyebrows and held out an arm as Graves tripped, as though she might be able to stop any sort of fall, then exhaled a small chuckle as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What a gentleman." She giggled and took his hand this time, still sipping her drink as they walked. "Do you like the woods?"

Graves took a sip of his sweet tea before answering, a grin on his face. "Nah, nah, nah. I'm not lettin' you make fun of me anymore. I'm here, I'm queer, and that's all I got." He watched as Cleo tucked her hair behind her ear, and his eyes widened as she took his hand; her hand looked so small in his. "Bancroft," he practically hissed, looking around to see if anyone they knew had seen them. "Ma'am." He didn't pull his hand away because he didn't want to be rude, so he just took another sip of his tea, looking like a deer in headlights. He tried to answer her question, praying to the gods that she couldn't hear his heart pounding from embarrassment. "The woods? Yeah, sure, of course. I love hiking and finding abandoned places. Why?"

"Not letting me? I don't think you can stop me," Cleo teased. When he said her name, she frowned a bit and dropped his hand, taking her cup in the hand between them instead. She blushed lightly. "Just since we're passing through on the way to camp, it was on my mind."

"I-um." When Cleo dropped his hand, Graves immediately ran that hand through his hair, willing the blush on his cheeks to fade. He put on a bright smile and cocked his head at her. "Do you like the woods? We should explore them one day." He bumped her shoulder gently with his own, "I know a few cool spots we could go."

"I love the woods." Cleo chewed on her straw and nodded at Graves, smiling once more. "I know these woods better than anyone at camp, I'd like to bet, except for the nymphs. I can show you some haunted clearings." She bit her lip and looked down. "I guess in exchange for you showing me abandoned factories.”

Graves bit his lip and smiled. "Haunted clearings? Gods, Bancroft! I didn't know camp was haunted." He lowered his voice to a whisper at the end of his sentence, leaning in close. His eyes gleamed, "Don't tell me you've talked to any spirits! I will gladly show you all the abandoned places I know, but you have to keep them secret."

Cleo kept her head ducked as she let out a small, somewhat nervous laugh. She didn't know why she'd brought up haunted clearings in the first place, but if was the first thing that came to mind. She looked back up at him with a small smile. "I won't tell anyone!" She sipped her drink a bit more and reached up to touch a leaf as they passed under a tree. "Back to my cabin, right?"

He raised an eyebrow at her laugh but didn't press Cleo further. Graves had mixed feelings about ghosts and spirits himself. Personally, he found them interesting, but his mom and grandmother did not fuck with ghosts. He watched Cleo touch a leaf gently, it was such a simple gesture but it made him smile even more. "Your cabin, for sure. I'm uh-my room's a mess," Graves said lamely. He sipped his tea. "I've never actually been to your cabin, now that I think of it."

Cleo exhaled a small laugh. "My room is, luckily, very not not a mess." She skipped ahead of him a few feet and turned to face him again. She pointed at him and nodded. "You're going to like my cabin. Most of the decoration's mine, but Len has a few things around." She met his pace again. "We can have wine with our movie too, if you'd like." She smiled a bit.

“I’m excited to see it.” Graves could see the cabins in the distance, over Cleo’s shoulder. “Wine sounds great, if you want? I’ve got some snacks in my backpack too. Wait. Did you make it this wine? Because then I change my answer to absolutely yes.”

“Um, I always want wine.” Cleo laughed and raised her eyebrows. “And what kind of snacks, this is an important question, Cam.” She smiled widely, happy at the idea that he wanted to drink it if she’d made it. “If you could make wine, would you ever buy it?”

Holding his drink against his chest with his arm, Graves made a show of counting on his fingers as he listed his snack haul. "Well Bancroft, I've got some salt an' vinegar chips, Doritos, Oreos, some chocolate, and uh, red vines. You know, for variety." He winked at her, trademark grin on his face, dimples on his cheeks. "Not gonna lie, I don't buy wine now. But I've tried any that I've been offered and I don't mind it? I like sangria," he offered. "And I figure if you make fruit wines? That's probably fuckin' tasty. But no, I wouldn't buy wine if I could make it.”

Cleo put a hand on her chest at his list. “Ugh, sweet, a man after my own heart. Red vines are my favorite, but every single other snack is a close second.” She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I only really make fruit wine. I like things sweet, sweet, sweet. The peach wine’s still fermenting, but we can drink it if you don’t mind a weaker batch. It’ll still taste pretty good.” She finished off her drink. “Otherwise I have strawberry!”

"Red vines are your favorite?" He gasped dramatically. "No way!" Graves bit his lip, still half-smiling. He glanced at Cleo. "I am a very big fan of sweet things. Hmm, I think I'll wait on the peach, until you think it's perfect. I don't want to rush a masterpiece. Strawberry sounds real fuckin' good."

“Yeah! Have I mentioned that before?” Cleo laughed and grinned up at him, taking a step up onto her porch as she approached her cabin. “Is that why we’re friends, then?” She smiled and turned to open her door, glancing over her shoulder at him still. “Okay, then I’ll let you know when the peach is perfect and we can have a movie night then too.” She nodded once as she put her cup down on the counter and pulled a growler of wine from her fridge.

"Maybe you have, maybe I heard it through the grapevine," Graves joked, following Cleo inside. He met her gaze. "Yes, among other reasons. But I'll keep you guessin' there, Bancroft." As Cleo opened the fridge, he turned in a circle, taking in the cabin. His eyes followed some vines across the walls, looking at the artwork hung between their leaves. The Dionysus cabin had such a different energy than the Hermes frat house, that Graves was momentarily stunned. He pointed to a charcoal drawing on one of the walls, his tone full of awe. "Is that-is that your art?"

Cleo laughed quietly at his joke and set out two novelty mugs to pour the wine into. She tilted her head at him and leaned against the counter, hiding her smile by sipping her wine. "That one? Yeah. I really dig charcoal and pastels. Are you into art?" She nodded a bit.

Graves stepped closer to the drawing for a better view of all the details. "Bancroft, this is amazing." He looked over his shoulder at her, expression full of surprise. "How did I not know you did this? First the wine, then the artistic talents? Damn. I'm into art, yeah." He shrugged, still looking at her. "I am not an artist myself though. Can't draw a straight line to save my life."

Cleo blushed slightly and pressed her lips together as she swallowed her drink. A smile crawled across her face and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Thanks. I... really like art. It's nothing I'd do anything with, but, y'know, important to have hobbies, and some amount of skill for my designs." She walked over to meet him, holding out the other mug for him. She almost asked him how into art he was, but stopped herself. "I just use straightedges for half the time."

Graves accepted the mug with a nod. He still looked a bit awestruck. "I love this. I always like seeing what my friends are into. People bein' passionate about things they love is fuckin' sexy." He realized what he said and quickly took a sip of wine. "This?" He held out his mug for emphasis. "This shit is good. Wow, I'm going to drink this so fast." He took another big sip.

Cleo almost snorted into her wine as she laughed. Something about the intonation of how he said fuckin' sexy made it come off as way cuter than he probably wanted it to. "Glad I'm passionate and sexy, then." She grinned and then raised her eyebrows a bit. "Okay, then we should start the movie soon. I don't want you to black out before we even start. She went to grab the bottle from the counter and then led them to her room, where the door was already open.

Graves rolled his eyes. "Don't let it go to your head ma'am." He clutched his mug to his chest protectively, pretending to be offended. "Me? Blackout, never." He took another sip before following Cleo to her room. He stopped in the doorway, hesitant. He looked down at his shoes for a moment before asking, "On or off?"

"I would never." Cleo flashed a smile at Graves in lieu of pressing a hand to her chest because she was holding things. She tilting her head as she did and slipped her shoes off as they entered the room. "I've seen you close, I think, and you've never had my wine. Sweet but deadly." She set the wine and her mug down on her desk as she pulled up her laptop and took a seat on her bed, searching for the movie. "Off, please!"

Graves nodded in acknowledgement and sat down in the doorway to untie his Vans, setting his mug of wine next to him. "Sweet but deadly," he hummed. "I like that." He took a look around her room, his eyes catching on the little altar set up on her desk. He smiled. "I like your room. It's very you."

Cleo crossed her legs as she sat and put the laptop down next to her. She opened the bottle again and poured a small bit of the wine into the cup on her alter, where it promptly vanished. "Thanks." She smiled at him. Does that mean you like me? She'd probably start asking more of the questions that popped into her head after she finished a cup or two of the wine. "I'd stress out if it wasn't nice. I spend a bunch of time in here."

"Shit. Should I pour some out to?" Graves asked, pausing mid-sip to watch the wine vanish. He moved his shoes out of the way and stood up, walking over to Cleo. "That makes sense. I'm hardly in my room so it can be...a bit of a disaster area." That was an understatement; he couldn't remember the last time he made his bed or actually put his laundry away properly. "Movie time?" He took off his flannel and tied it around his waist, brushing a wrinkle out of his faded tee.

Cleo pressed her cheek into her shoulder as she shrugged. "I mean, if you want to. I normally just do a general pour out per bottle for the old man, but it couldn't hurt to add more." She smiled and leaned back against the wall. "Movie time," she agreed. "Come sit!" She patted the spot next to her and waited for him to take a seat before she pressed play. "Gods, this movie has the best soundtrack."

There was only a little bit of wine left in his mug so Graves didn't hesitate to pour it into the altar cup. He turned around and flashed Cleo a grin. "I need a refill if you please, ma'am." He sat on the bed, a respectful distance away from her and started humming as "One Week" by the Barenaked Ladies blared from Cleo's laptop. "Gods, is it bad I think I know all the words to this fuckin' song?"

Cleo picked up the bottle from her desk and held it out to Graves, scooting closer as she did. She sipped her own wine. “You’re going through it quick, so don’t blame me if you end up too drunk.” She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Um, absolutely not. It’s a great song.”

"Noted, I'll slow down. How strong is this stuff anyway?" Graves peered into his now-full mug. The wine was delicious and sweet, as promised. He edged a little closer to Cleo to get a better view of the screen, before leaning back against the wall to get comfortable. "Okay. Vital question right here." He paused for dramatic effect, eyebrows raised. "How many times have you seen this movie?"

Cleo shrugged on shoulder. “I’ve never tested how strong it is. Strong enough to get me pretty tipsy after a glass?” She was almost done with the mug, and her head was swimming a bit. She scooted over more until their arms brushed against each other, then looked at him expectantly. “Um... Looking for an actual answer? Because I haven’t kept track, but enough to know some of the lines perfectly?”

Graves cocked his head to the side, almost hitting Cleo's shoulder when she scooted closer. "Shit, I'll definitely slow down then. I'd prefer not to blackout and miss this movie that you insist is so good." He watched the screen for a few minutes before realizing she'd answered his question. "Oh damn, you know the lines? That's wild. Gods...look at their outfits. I'm gonna dress like that guy for a day, see where it gets me." He pointed to Joey Donner, laughing. "That hairdo and everything."

Cleo grinned at him. “I thought you didn’t black out. And, um, I insist it’s good because it is good.” She rolled her eyes playfully and then looked back at the screen. “Only a few of them, and paraphrasing. Don’t.” Cleo stuck her tongue out and shook her head. “I mean, it would look good, but he’s the worst character.”

“I don’t. Just hypothetically, you know?” He scrunched his nose. “Oh yeah, I can tell. He’s got real douchebag vibes.” Graves took a sip from his mug and used his free hand to absentmindedly mess with his hair.

Cleo smiled and finished her drink, then reached over for the bottle to refill it. She set the bottle down on the windowsill this time so it would be more within reach. "Yeah. But..." She bit her lip. "Yeah, dressing like him wouldn't be the worst." She shrugged and laughed. "Ugh!" She pointed at the screen. "He's the best character. I love Patrick. So cute."

Graves laughed, “We should have a 90s themed party. Give everyone an excuse to dress up.” He looked away from Cleo to watch the movie. “I’d hookup with Patrick Verona, I don’t care if he lit ten state troopers on fire. He’s hot af.”

"Oh my gods." Cleo grabbed Graves's arm. "We have to have a 90s themed party, please. It would be son fun! The playlist? Pure fire." She pressed her hand into her cheek as she watched the movie. "Ugh, same. The rumors just make him hotter."

When Cleo grabbed his arm, Graves fumbled his mug but managed not to spill a drop. He grinned at her, thanking the gods for his quick reflexes. “That playlist would be real decent, for sure. We should make it happen. What’s your favorite 90’s song?” He resumed his admiration of young Heath, biting his lip. “You’re right. The air of mystery adds to his sex appeal.”

“The playlist would be perfect. We have to do it. It can be in the rec room or something,” she decided, not wanting to clean up a mess. “I think it’s either No Scrubs or Baby One More Time.” She laughed a bit. “Weird array. What about you?” Cleo rested her cheek on Graves’s shoulder and sighed. “You’re so right. Everyone loves a bad boy.” She nearly squeaked when Cameron appeared on screen again. “But I love him too! Can they both be my boyfriends?”

Graves realized he’d just signed himself up to host a party with Cleo and wondered if Rosie would reconsider what she’d said about not kicking him out of the cabin yet. He laughed, a little delayed, before shrugging. “I love Flagpole Sitta but No Scrubs is another fave. Oh, No Diggity is good too.” He grinned when Cleo rested her head on his shoulder, adjusting his posture a bit so she could be comfortable. Her enthusiasm about the movie was contagious. “Two boyfriends?? Can’t I have one? I can’t date someone with the same name as me so I guess I have to date Verona.” He faked a pout.

Cleo curled her legs under her. "Yes to all of that. Like I said, absolute fire playlist." She cuddled a bit closer to him and sipped her drink, then tilted her head up so that she could pout back at him. "Um, I'm cute enough to have both. We can share on the days I'm feeling generous."

“Okay, I cant argue with that. I’ll wait for you to be in a generous mood, I guess.” He took a sip of his wine and snorted, almost sending his drink out his nose. “Did she just say ‘but it’s only 4:30’ about making people cry?” Graves asked, through laughter. “Gods, a badass.”

Cleo dropped her face again so that she could watch the movie more attentively. "Yes. She's the best character. I'm way more like Bianca, but I'd love to have Kat energy. Their dad's a full psycho though."

“Bancroft,” Graves laughed harder. “Your dad literally causes madness in mortals.” He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter and a hiccup. He was going to say more, but thought better of  calling Dionysus ‘psycho’. “Oh man, you definitely have Bianca energy, you’re right.”

Cleo scoffed. "Only really when they deserved it and then..." She frowned and shook her head. "Okay, I see what you mean, but careful what you say about the god of wine while drinking it, alright?" She exhaled a laugh. "Yes, I too have beer flavored..." She stopped herself from finishing the full quote, giggling too hard.

"I swear I'm not questioning his judgement. Is this..." Graves eyed his cup warily. "Still safe to drink? Or am I a dead man? I don't need any more curses." He gave Cleo a strange look when she burst out laughing, not understanding the reference. "Beer flavored...what?" He put his hand up to stop her. "Do I even want to know?"

Cleo snorted, glancing at Graves again. "Probably. What other curses do you have?" She shook her head and just pressed her lips together. "Nothing. It's a line later in the movie, it was dumb, just... forget about it." She laughed into her cup.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow while he took another sip from his mug. "Forget I mentioned that," Graves said after swallowing. "If I tell you, they might get transferred and we don't want that." He smirked. When Cleo continued to laugh, his expression shifted to confusion again before he shrugged it off. "Do you even like beer? Or are you strictly a wine person?"

Cleo raised her eyebrows back at him, her attention split between him and the movie. “Forget? How can I ever? It’s so intriguing!” She pouted a bit. “I guess I wouldn’t want it myself, but is being this close to you going to make it jump from you to me? Is it obtained through osmosis?” She leaned back so that she wasn’t pressed up against him anymore and smiled, but shook her head. “Not much of a beer person, but definitely more than wine. I like ciders, and tequila, and rum.” She nodded. “Jack of all liquors, really.”

"You'll just have to try, Bancroft. Trust me. It's a nasty curse, I wouldn't want to burden you with my tragic fate." Graves' expression turned somber, but there was still a sparkle in his eyes. "No osmosis, no ma'am." He finished off the wine in his mug with a long swig. Resting the empty mug on his knee, he squinted at the laptop screen, trying to gauge his level of sobriety. "Jack of all liquors, sounds like something one of my siblings would say. All good beverage choices."

Cleo pressed a hand into her cheek, which was warm as the wine was hitting her. "Stop being so mysterious, Cam! You're gonna make me fall in love with you," she joked and looked down at how much she had in her own mug. "Okay, I feel like I need to catch up with you a bit." She took a few swigs and then tilted her head from side to side. "Probably don't compare me to your siblings too much, you might get in trouble. She laughed. "I love... Malibu." She nodded and scooted back to her original position and looked back at the screen. "Okay, we gotta watch."

“Wait, shit. You mean you’re not already madly in love with me?” Graves looked at Cleo in mock surprise. “You’re right, I need to kept my mouth shut. I don’t need any more trouble.” He winked at her before focusing back on the movie as instructed. “Malibu is good. I fuckin’ love Fireball,” he added, eyes glued to the screen.

Cleo bit her lip and glanced up at Graves. "Maybe a little." She laughed and leaned against him again, resting her head on his shoulder. She sipped her wine and exhaled a laugh as her chest grew warm. "I doubt you'll ever stop having trouble, what with your curse." She hummed in agreement. "Sourpuss," she added to the list, then laughed at the screen. "Ugh, when will someone get my sister to start dating so that they can date me? Alternatively, when will someone get paid to take me out because I'm so daunting, and then fall for me?"

Graves couldn’t help but smile, he enjoyed their banter. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He tilted his head to gently lean on hers. For a moment he frowned, misunderstanding, then realized Cleo had been adding to her list. He added another of his own, “Peach Schnapps.” He gave Cleo light nudge, laughing. “I didn’t know Lisette had sworn off dating. Shit, that’s tragic.” In a different voice, he added, “I don’t think you’re dauntin’. Who called you that?” He cracked his knuckles. “I’ll deal with them.”

“Mm, yes.” Cleo agreed with the addition to the list. “I mean, could be worse things, right?” She laughed. “I think if anyone called me daunting they’d have to get their eyes checked. That or they’re a foot tall.”

“Could be worse things, for sure.” He agreed. “They could call you a hippie, or a ridiculous flirt.” Graves hummed, grinning. “They’d have to pay someone to take me on a date, sure as hell. I’ve heard I’m a fuckin nightmare.”

Cleo laughed and nudged Graves’s arms. “Shut up.” She shook her head a bit. “Aw, is anyone offering a couple hundred to take you out? I could let you know about it and we’ll split it all 80-20.”

Graves shrugged, nudging Cleo right back. His eyes lit up. "Not as far as I know, but we'll split it for sure." He flicked his gaze over to her before looking back at the screen. "Okay, this Joey Donner guy? A total dickwad."

Cleo finished her drink and then put her mug on the windowsill. She moved to wrap her arms around his arm, still resting her head on his shoulder. “Yeah.” She scrunched her nose. “I can’t wait until... Just wait, it’s good.”

“What am I waiting for?” He shifted, pressing himself a little closer to Cleo, trying to be as comfortable of a headrest as possible. Graves’ lips twitched in a small smile as she encircled his arm with her own. “I have high hopes.”

“You should be!” Cleo didn’t want to spoil the ending for Graves, especially since it was so unexpected and satisfying to watch. She tapped his arm suddenly with a small gasp. “Oh! You brought snacks, right? Where are they?”

"I'll grab 'em, hang on." Graves untangled his arm from Cleo's and slid off the bed, walking over to the doorway to retrieve his backpack. "You want red vines?" He fished the package out of his bag before hopping back on the bed, crashing into her in the process. "Fuck, sorry, you okay?" He held out the candy as an apology and smiled.

Cleo was somehow disappointed when Graves untangled himself from her, despite knowing that he had to in order to get them snacks. She paused the movie and then moved over to pour them both more wine, and when Graves crashed into her, a bit sloshed onto her and  the bed. "Oops." She laughed and took the vines with her free hand, put her mug down on the windowsill, and stood to get a towel to wipe up the mess. "Before you freak out, this happens more than you'd think," she said as she patted her dress and tossed the towel down on top of her bedspread. "So don't worry about it."

His smile faltered as the wine spilled and Graves immediately untied his flannel from around his waist to try to sop up the mess, but Cleo beat him to it, grabbing a towel. "Shit, I'm sorry. There's wine on your dress too, fuck. You..." He paused. "This must happen often because you are so calm right now." He let out a hesitant laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry again. Can I do anything else?"

Cleo waved her hand somewhat dismissively. “Not that often! I’m not a slob. I just know how to take care of stains that I get.” She stuck her tongue out, unclear if she was actually offended or not. “Absolutely not.” She pulled the towel from her bed and hung it up again before returning to her seat. She ripped open the red vines with her teeth, bit off both ends of one, and dropped it into her mug to use a straw. After settling back down, she held out the other mug to Graves. “Ready to go after our brief intermission?”

"Oh gods, I swear I was teasin'. I don't think you're a slob." Graves smiled sheepishly. He accepted his mug from Cleo and nodded, biting his lip. "Yeah, let's keep watching. Sorry again." He clambered back on the bed, careful not to crash into her this time. When Cleo was settled on the bed, he shifted a little closer to her, their arms just barely touching. "Cheers," he raised his mug towards hers.

Cleo laughed quietly at Graves and handed him his mug. She pressed play on the movie and cuddled up against him again. She hit her mug against his lightly. “Cheers!” She called out and then sipped through her red vine straw.

After taking a sip, Graves nodded appreciatively. "Straw game on point, 'Croft. I'm in the presence of a genius." He broke into a smile when Cleo cuddled up with him and he gladly leaned back into her, getting comfortable. He slouched down a little bit, leaning his head on her shoulder this time. "Movie night sh' be a weekly thing."

“Thanks.” Cleo grinned at the praise. “You should absolutely have the same straw if you feel bold enough.” She joked and sighed. “Ugh, absolutely. We can alternate weeks. You can pick your Mad Max for the next one.”

"You already know what I'll pick, look at you!" Graves chuckled. "You get me." He sighed, content, as he took another sip of wine. "I'd gladly accept a straw vine ma'am." He held out his mug for her to add the straw.

Cleo flashed a smile at Graves and bit her lip before looking back at the screen. She pulled a red vine from the package and then handed it to him. “Here you are, sir.”

Graves dropped the red vine into the cup and sipped wine through his makeshift straw. "Shit, this is awesome. Thank you ma'am." He grinned at Cleo, eyes flicking across her face before he turned back to the movie. He nudged her playfully but didn't say anything.

“Prevents the wine lip,” Cleo said quietly. She sipped her drink and watched the movie and then slapped his arm again. “Ugh, wait, this is it! This is the best scene!” She pressed one hand into her cheek and sipped her drink more. “The bleachers! Ugh, when will someone do this for me?”

Graves touched two fingers to his forehead. "Wine lip, I should have known." He chuckled, then made a startled sound when Cleo slapped his arm. "What!" He saw her excitement and obediently focused on the movie. His mouth widened into a surprised 'o'. "Stop, this is- fuck, this is awesome! I mean, I'd be mortified if someone did this for me but, shit that looks so fucking fun." Graves glanced at Cleo, "Maybe soon." He winked playfully and started softly humming the song.

"This is the best scene in the movie, honestly. No, in cinema, really." Cleo smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I fully expect this to happen at the amphitheatre now, thank you very much."

"You get me drunk enough, put me on stage for karaoke? Hell, I'm not makin' any promises but," Graves grinned. "I'm not sayin' it can't happen either."

Cleo giggled and sipped more from her candy straw. "I'll keep that in mind next karaoke. You better do the full performance."

"Bancroft, I need to warn you now. I cannot sing. If my life depended on it, I'd be in the Underworld already." He shuddered dramatically. "Can't dance either, but that's nothin' a little tequila can't fix."

Cleo rested her chin on his shoulder to look at Graves. "That just makes it better." She smiled at him for a moment before moving her head back to watch the movie again.

Graves scrunched his nose at Cleo. "If by 'better' you mean 'very embarrassing for Graves' then yeah, it's better. I'll never forgive you if you record my performance though. I do not want to go viral."

Cleo took a bite from her straw and smiled, still watching the movie. "But then I can't make it my alarm to wake up to in the morning, and then what's the point?"

"I promise you, the original song would make a much better alarm than my rendition. Fuck, that would be an awful alarm," Graves laughed, taking a sip of his wine.

Cleo hummed in agreement. “That would be a good alarm.” She wrapped one arm around his again as she drank, fully absorbed in the movie. When it got to the scene where Kat flashes the teacher to get Patrick out of detention, she tapped him excitedly again. “I love her!”

When Kat flashed her teacher, Graves’ eyebrows skyrocketed. “Damn, okay! She did that. I love her too.” As Cleo linked their arms, Graves grinned, leaning a little more of his weight on her. “Okay, please tell me they end up together because if not, I need to end up with one of them.”

Cleo laughed. “Well, I’m in love with her.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to one-up him, but she did. She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry, that’s a spoiler.”

Graves raised his free hand in surrender. “Fine, fine. I take back my love for her.” He was about to take another sip from his mug but hiccuped suddenly. Graves made a face. “How do you-“ he hiccuped again, “know if you’re in love? I mean, the general ‘you’.”

Cleo chewed on her candy straw in thought. “I think...” She watched their date flicker on the screen and she squinted slowly. “I think I just know. It’s like... A fuzzy feeling you get, and you’re always warm. It’s like a little hug in your stomach, and a comfortable feeling in your chest. It feels...” She hummed. “Safe.” She pressed a hand into her cheek. “Different from the fuzzy crush feeling. That’s more like buzzing, and your cheeks hurting from smiling, you know?” She tilted her head slightly to glance at him. “Why?”

Graves kept his eyes fixed on the movie, chewing his lip. He thought about what she described, the feelings she pointed out. He shrugged, almost imperceptibly. His voice low, Graves answered without looking away from the movie, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love, that’s why.”

Cleo blinked at Graves and took another sip of her drink. “Well, that’s not too surprising. You’re a gemini man. Have you ever even dated anyone?”

"A gemini man," Graves huffed. "Reducing me to my zodiac sign, I'm hurt, Bancroft." He could feel the walls that he'd unwittingly lowered start to slide back up. "Nah, nah. I don't date." He downed the rest of his mug in one large sip.

Cleo lifted her eyebrows at him. “Are you really offended?” She frowned slightly. “How do you expect to fall in love if you don’t date?”

"Oh, shit. No no, I was just- I was joking." He clarified. "Also I'm a cancer. Well, a cusp." Graves nudged her gently, a small smile on his face to show that he hadn't been upset. "I don't expect to, I was just..." He searched for the right word. "Curious, I guess. I sound like an idiot." He shook his head, wishing he hadn't downed his wine, but not wanting to ask for more. His cheeks felt warm, his head a little foggy.

Cleo pressed her lips together as she watched him. “You seem like a gemini.” She rested her chin on his shoulder again. “You don’t sound like an idiot.” She shrugged one shoulder. “You know, I think you can be in love with things that aren’t people. Like sounds or words or the way something feels.”

Graves tilted his head. "I've never felt particularly one way or the other, so I'll trust your judgement." He leaned on Cleo again, nudging his arm closer to hers. "I agree with that. Didn't the Greeks have, like, five different kinds of love or something?"

Cleo dropped her face again and looked back to the screen. “Six. Agape, eros, philia...” She squinted as she thought. “Ludus and pragma, and... One that means self-love. Have you ever read Symposium?”

"Have I read-nah, what is that?" He mimicked Cleo's earlier action, leaning on her shoulder. "I actually knew the first three on that list, surprised myself."

Cleo glanced down at Graves without moving her head. “Symposium, it’s Plato, and he just talks about love and the different forms of it. It’s really beautiful, actually.” She smiled, more for herself than anything, and her eyes grew almost misty. “They’re the most famous, I think. Do you know what the others are?”

Graves drummed his fingers on his thigh, thinking. "Ludus is...playful love? It's also one of the planets in Ready: Player One. And pragma, I don't know. Something practical, from context probably?" His eyes flickered to Cleo's face, watching her expression change as she talked about love. "You're a hopeless romantic, aren't you?"

Cleo moved her head in what could be considered a nod to confirm that ludus was playful, not wanting to move too much. She smiled a bit. “Yeah. I heard it described as when you stop falling in love and learn to stand in it. It’s practical, a growing sort of love.” She flushed as she met his eyes, wine-warm cheeks growing warmer. “Kinda. I also just took a course on love and Symposium was just... really pretty. I loved it. Except for the misogyny, but, you know, can’t have everything.” She laughed quietly, tracing her eyes over his features, and then turned back toward the screen suddenly, humming urgently as she did. “We’re gonna miss the prom! The best scenes! Besides all the other scenes.”

"Stand in it, I like that." Graves returned her smile, holding Cleo's gaze when her eyes met his. He chewed his lip. "I'll have to read it, maybe they have it at the bookstore?" He chuckled, "Are you telling me you didn't order a side of misogyny with your love?" He scrunched his nose before carding his fingers through his hair. He turned his gaze away from Cleo, almost reluctantly, and focused back on the movie. "Gods, who dresses up as Shakespeare for prom?"

“I can lend it to you,” Cleo said, gaze fixed on the screen. “Since you’re here already. I have it in the original Greek! But if you don’t like notes in the margins maybe don’t borrow it from me. Plus, actually, coming into the bookstore and buying it might be a good sales tactic, so let’s say I did that.” She exhaled a small laugh before slapping his arm lightly. “Hey! I know that everyone wants to grow up and become Kat, but some of us just end up her crazy friend obsessed with Shakespeare. And he dressed up all for her! That’s so cute!” She smiled despite her words and drained the last of her wine. “But, ugh, just, okay, just watch. This is the best part. I love Bianca.”

Graves' eyes stayed focused on the screen as he answered. "I don't mind notes in the margins, maybe I'll learn more from your insight." He almost pulled his arm away to dodge Cleo's slap, but didn't want to untangle their arms. "Hey! Okay, fine, that's fair. They can have their theater geek prom."  His expression turned to one of surprise. "Shit! Cameron down. Please tell me I take a punch better than that." Graves' nearly jumped in excitement when Bianca punched that guy, instead he tapped Cleo's leg with his hand. "Oh my gods! Damn! That's what I'm talkin' about!!"

Cleo pressed her cheek into the top of his head for a moment, watching the movie past his hair. “I’ll lend it to you, then. Don’t leave here without it.” She nodded. “We should have a theatre geek prom! Like, here. Or just a dance. A dance where people have to dress up,” she decided on, then untangled herself from Graves slightly to press a hand to her cheek. “Ugh, baby," she said when Cameron got hit. "I love this move, I love it.” She sighed dramatically. “When will Bianca marry me?”

Graves hummed, thinking. "A masquerade, Bancroft. A masquerade." When Cleo pulled away, he shifted, pulling his knees up to his chest and leaning on them. "He went down so hard," he laughed, watching the movie-Cameron. Graves turned to look at Cleo, catching her exaggerated sigh. He grinned and elbowed her gently, "This was a good movie. Good fuckin' choice. If you propose, I bet she'd say yes."

Cleo put her cup down on the windowsill and grabbed Graves's arm when he mentioned a masquerade. "Yes." She leaned in close to him and grinned, feeling as though the last sip of wine and last glass of wine hit her all at once. "We need to do that. A masquerade. Please! I'll mention it to people and help plan it and everything, I swear!" She leaned back again and looked at her computer. "He's just a boy!" She laughed, leaning back on a hand. "Thanks." She flashed a smile, but it faded as she pressed a hand to her cheek. "We're just getting to the sad part, though!" She frowned at the screen, chest growing tight as the music grew sad.

Graves leaned in, a conspiratorial look in his eyes and rested his forehead against Cleo's. He matched her grin. "Shit, I'm all in for a masquerade, Bancroft. But if you get me stuck on the plannin' committee, gods help you," he threatened, joking. When she leaned away, Graves made a face, before resting his folded arms on his knees again. "And you're just a girl, right?" He matched her tone, still grinning but feeling a little fuzzy. She hadn't been kidding when she warned how strong the wine was. Graves looked at Cleo when the music changed, studying her expression, "Please don't tell me someone dies or something. How sad does this get?" He pouted at her.

Cleo didn’t seem to see a problem with their proximity and just smiled, pressing her nose against his. “Cameron, sir, you are going to help me plan this by being the hype man, okay? Just tell every single person about it and I’ll get a group of people to actually plan it!” As she sat back, she smiled at him. “Unless you can handle putting up some twinkle lights with me?” She groaned and pressed her hand into her cheek somewhat harder, sticking out her lower lip. “No, just heartbreak.” She sniffled.

"You need hype? I'm an excellent hype man, swear." Graves winked, then started making a mental list of who to tell first to get the ball really rolling. He looked over at Cleo and returned her smile. "I guess I could handle some twinkle lights. I'd be a hot assistant, for sure." He patted her knee affectionately when she groaned. "There, there, sappy. I don't have any tissues but uh, I have a shoulder to cry on?" Graves' eyes darted between Cleo and the screen. "I love this teacher man, he's just roastin' the guy because he knows Joey had it comin'. I love it."

“Perfect.” Cleo grinned widely at her friend and nodded her head once in confirmation. “It’s a plan, then. I’ll let you know dates when we figure it out. And then you can be there to physically set it up with me!” Once Kat started reading her poem, she wiped at her face, which was now covered in tears as she was openly crying. “Yeah.” She said as she sniffled again. “He’s a good teacher.” She reached over to grab a few tissues from a box handy on her windowsill.

"It's a date- err, that's not what I meant." Graves laughed at his own mix up. "Yes, I'll be there, for all your twinkle-light-hanging needs," he amended. Just as Cleo started wiping away tears, Graves turned his head away so she wouldn't see that he'd gotten a little misty-eyed himself. He preferred not to show off his softer side but, damn, that poem had hit him. He used his shoulder to wipe a tear off his cheek, praying to the gods that Cleo didn't see. He turned back to the screen, his voice sounding a little strange as he spoke. "Wow, I-uh I liked her poem."

If she noticed Cameron crying, Cleo didn’t indicate that there was anything unusual about it. “Ugh, same.” She wiped her nose, smiling once again when there was a guitar found in the front seat of Kat’s car, though it only made her burst into tears once again. “I’m so sorry.” She laughed at herself and wiped at her face. “I would say I don’t normally do this, but I know the ending, and I’ve done it every single time. You should have seen me the first time I watched it. It’s like, I know how the play ends, I obviously know they end up together, and yet I’m still crying!” She looked over at him.

Graves grinned, thankful she hadn't said anything. He looked away from the screen when Cleo burst into tears again and passed her a tissue. "Gods, Bancroft." Graves let out a small laugh. "I love that you're so invested in this movie but uh, if you don't stop crying, there's gonna be a flood in here," he joked, nudging her shoulder. Looking back at the movie, he noted, "I don't even play guitar but I'd still swoon at a gesture like that."

Cleo took the tissue with a watery smile and wiped at her face again. She sighed, finally done with her crying. "Sorry, sorry! I'm a drunk pisces!" She laughed and sighed. "Me too. It's just the thought, and the fact that he used all the money that he got for taking her on dates. It gives them a fresh start."

"I'm a drunk...Gemini? Cancer? Cusp?" He responded, forgetting why he was listing his zodiac options even as he listed them. Graves nodded. "Yeah, it's-" he hiccuped and immediately scowled. "It's cute. This is cute," he said vaguely, laughing to himself.

"This is very cute." Cleo smiled and looked at Graves, resting her cheek on her hand.

Graves looked at Cleo and grinned. "Top 5 favorite movies. Rapid fire!" he said, leaning against her again.

"This one, Thirteen Going on Thirty, Romeo and Juliet, but the Leonardo Di Caprio version, Birds of Prey, and Enchanted." She flashed a smile as she listed her movies easily. "How about you?"

Graves' brow furrowed at Cleo's list. "I've only seen....Thirteen Going on Thirty, I think. My mom loves that movie." He paused for a moment, thinking of movies. "Okay, well Mad Max: Fury Road, obviously. And then The Goonies, Pacific Rim, Pirates of the Caribbean, and...oh! Ferris Bueller's Day Off! A fuckin' classic."

Cleo scoffed and turned towards him, still close. “Okay, well now we have a list of movies we have to watch. I can’t believe you’ve never seen Enchanted. You’re gonna love it, believe me.” She pressed her lips together. “Okay, I’ve seen all of those except for Pacific Rim. And I can kind of remember watching Mad Max? But I think I may have just watched pieces of it.”

He glanced at her, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You can't just watch pieces of Mad Max, Bancroft."

Cleo snorted as she laughed and took his face in her hands. “Well, I did, Cameron!” She dropped her hands as quickly as she raised them, and she tilted her head to rest her cheek on her own shoulder.

"That's unacceptable, Bancroft!" Graves laughed, looking down when Cleo put her hands on his face. He looked back up at her, biting his lip and half-smiling. "Seriously, we need to fuckin' fix that immediately, if not sooner."

Cleo pressed a hand to her cheek. “Are you suggesting a double feature? I don’t know if I can handle another movie, even if it’s your favorite one.”

"Nah, not tonight. I'd fall asleep right here." Graves pretended to snore for a second, before sitting back up. "We should watch it next week. My place."

Cleo giggled as he pretended to snore. “Sleep well sweet prince.” She rubbed her cheek. “Sure. Same time?”

Graves snorted when she said sweet prince. He thought for a second then nodded. "Same time, works for me." He chewed his lip. "I can even meet you at the bookstore again."

Cleo grinned at him. “Sure, it’s a date. Grab me another iced chai?”

"You didn't even have to ask," Graves smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

[halfgclden]

yungimmortals​:

“Cleopatra,” he echoed her tone, smiling crookedly as Cleo grasped his hands. Excitement was written on his face, plain as day. “I-” Graves faltered before confessing, “I didn’t know they were real? That’s fuckin’ dumb. We’re literally children of gods. But, like, y’know what I mean! I’d never even seen them. Not once since I first got here.” He laughed, shaking his head. “After this ride, I probably will do just that. Travel to The Swamp in style.” Feeling the drachma’s weight in his hand, Graves glanced down at it, listening to her recite the words he would need to repeat; as he listened, his chest swelled with gratitude for Cleo, for her thoughtfulness and friendship. As she pulled him away from the cabin, Graves shook away his thoughts. He looked to her and grinned before enunciating the words she had taught him and throwing down the gleaming drachma. “Stêthi ‘Ô hárma diabolês!” Graves’ voice rang out clearly and as he felt a rush of cold air, he realized he was gripping Cleo’s hand in anticipation.

“Oh my gods, Cam. I just can’t believe it’s your first time.” Cleo shook her head in disbelief before a slow grin crawled across her face. “I’m taking your Grey Sisters virginity.” The wind and appearance of the car that followed took her attention, and she pulled Graves into the back seat behind her. She held her phone tightly as she recited the address as quickly and clearly as possible, holding her arm out over Grave’s chest as if that would act as any sort of safety belt when they lurched forward, Tempest screaming out directions as Wasp slammed on the gas. “See why we can’t take this on the way back?” Cleo leaned close so Graves could hear her over the crooning in the front seat. She wrapped an arm around his to try and steady herself as the cab jerked around.

[halfgclden]

yungimmortals​:

“What! I am! Okay, okay, mostly honest,” Graves conceded with a grin. The magical moustache made his nose itch and he sneezed into his elbow. Scrunching his nose, he tried to make the feeling stop. As Cleo mentioned the moustache, Graves grimaced, reaching up a hand to feel the bristly hair that had sprouted on his upper lip as a result of the medallion’s magic. Quickly, he slipped off the gold necklace, the hair disappearing as he lifted the chain over his head. “Yup, nope. Not for me.” He looked down at the medallion in his hand, snorting as he saw the very detailed facial hair etched onto the surface. “I’ll stick to my stubble.” Graves heard a faint buzzing near his ear again but there was no further sound so he shrugged it off and returned the necklace to the table. Noticing that the person running the table was preoccupied, he quickly knocked over a vase and the metal flowers it held went skittering across the table. “Shit, clumsy me,” he raised his eyebrows at Cleo and grinned, making a big show of cleaning them up and righting the vase. Quick as anything, he stealthily scooped a ring up into his sleeve and pocketed it when he turned away, figuring it would make a nice surprise for Miranda when he got back to the cabin. He nodded his head to the side, motioning for Cleo to start walking. “C’mon Bancroft, let’s check out another table.” As he took a step to leave, the seller caught his arm, reminding him he had to pay for the earring. Graves sighed and reached up to remove it from his ear, only to hear that same buzzing. Nice try, Cameron Graves, a voice rasped in his ear. You’re stuck with me. And sure enough, he couldn’t seem to budge the earring. The seller held their hand out expectantly for payment and reluctantly, Graves dropped a drachma into their open palm. Again he turned to Cleo, linking their arms together and pulling her towards a display of weapons. “Okay, seriously. I’m over this table. What’s over there? Huh, is that a crystal sword? Hot damn!”

“Mostly honest.” Cleo rolled her eyes, trying her best to sound incredulous. “You sure are something, Cameron.” As he tore off the necklace, she giggled, happy that the moustache disappeared with the chain. Once she realized exactly what he was doing, her eyes lit up, darting from the ring he picked up, to the seller, and she almost reached out for something of her own when he was pulling her away. As he was called back, however, she pulled off her scarf, hat, and glasses and placed them down on the table. The merchant seemed much more focused on making sure the shifty man with boyish charm paid than his starry-eyed, blonde companion, and while he paid and she placed down her clothing, she grabbed the first necklace she saw, her heart pounding in her chest excitedly as she wrapped both arms around his. “Didn’t think you’d be interested in that unless there was one to match it.”