#they live in france

[buttered-baguette-writes]

Europe Feels Like a Kiss

((Part 2))

A few days had passed, and Harry hadn't done much. He texted with the group Draco and Pansy introduced him to and called with Hermione and Ron, but otherwise, he didn't really socialise.

Looking for a bit of adventure, Harry decided to set out on the streets again in hopes of finding something fun along the way. He walked for a while, going past all the places and alleyways he had already explored in order to get to the unknown.

He eventually made his way past the restaurant he had gone to the other night with Pansy and Draco, then kept on going down the street. However, he didn't make it very far as a dog came barrelling down the cobblestones straight for him. It was most certainly still a puppy, but it was huge.

The wonders of Great Danes.

The dog was spotted and multi-coloured, and its front paws were quickly on Harry’s pants, just begging for attention. Its tail wagged so hard and fast that it became nothing but a blur.

“Well, hello there! And who are you?” Harry cooed at the ginormous puppy, hands scratching its body while also trying to grasp the collar so he could read it. “Luca’s Shelter huh? And how did you get out?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Harry? Oh, thank goodness!” Luca yelled out from across the street, looking puffed with a leash looped to his pants. He stayed where he was, putting a hand to his chest as he simply breathed.

Tugging softly at the dogs’ collar, Harry awkwardly pulled the dog across the street. It was a strong pup. The dog tugged away from him but towards Luca the closer they got to the other man. Harry offered a bright smile. “Hi.”

“I’m so happy to see you!” Luca said before quickly and quietly chastising the large puppy. The pup had bowled past him at the shop entrance when he went to take him for a walk. “Milo here is a troublemaker,” Luca added, finally clipping on the lead.

“Cute though.”

“Yeah,” Luca agreed.

“I can walk him back for you?” Harry suggested, wanting something to do. Besides, he had been meaning to see Luca’s shop.

Luca looked at him sceptically for a moment before Milo tugged towards something down the street. He quickly handed the leash to Harry, not ready to run again. “Please.”

Harry smiled. Taking the lead, he let out a short whistle, catching the dogs attention. “Come on,” he said energetically.

Milo trotted happily in front of Harry as the man walked next to Luca, making small talk.

By the time they made it back to the shop, Milo was one tired puppy. However, he would certainly be ready to play after a very short nap.

Harry spent the rest of his day at Luca’s store helping out, playing with cats and dogs, and getting to know the Italian man. Lottie dropped by, having forgot her lunch in their apartment upstairs.

Harry had had such a good time that he promised to come by and help out again. The kittens and Milo were his favourite.

On his venture to find a place for dinner, Harry came upon a fluffy gray cat that was in a harness and leash. His green eyes jumped to look at the owner who just happened to have a familiar head of blonde hair.

“Are you walking your cat?” Harry asked. Never had he heard of someone taking their cat for a walk.

“Yes,” Draco answered. “Altesse loves the attention.”

“Pardon? What was that name?”

Draco flushed slightly. He was a proud cat owner, but he never had to explain his cats name in English. He didn't know why he felt so silly about it in that moment. “Altesse, or, Son Altesse.” He answered, knowing the look on the other man’s face. “It means –”

“Her Highness?”

“How did you…”

“I have a translating spell,” Harry said sheepishly. He had wanted to learn the language but was struggling to pick it up on his own in the short time he had been there.

Draco just watched him as he bent down to greet Altesse. Draco heard him say something in French, amused when Her Highness sniffed his hand snootily before accepting a quick scratch between her ears.

“What’re you doing?” Harry asked as he stood back up.

“Dinner. Haven't decided what yet.”

Harry perked up. “Can I join you? I’ve no idea where to go.”

Draco gave him a once over before agreeing, taking them to a fabulous restaurant a few streets over. They ordered their food to go – at Draco’s insistence – taking it back to the blonde's flat.

It was larger than Harry’s.

There was two bedrooms and a bathroom to one side. The kitchen was a decent size, a small island with stools. There was a couch against one wall and a shelf on the other. Large windows littered the entire apartment. There was a full balcony off the living space with a little table and two mismatching chairs.

It was very inviting.

Harry was there for a few hours. The conversation always flowing.

Harry talked about the time he spent as an Auror, the ministry not putting him through the proper training course. That experience had drained him so much. And the media made it worse, especially when he quit. Then, when he began setting up his charities, the press hounded him about his dating life.

“England went wild when they found out I got a tattoo,” Harry reminisced with a dry laugh. “Even muggle places weren’t safe.” He had booked the appointment under an alias at a muggle parlour, but someone found out anyway.

Draco took a sip of his wine, horrified by the media tales. “And I thought they were nice to saviours and such,” he said. His experience had, of course, been terrible, but they hadn't followed him everywhere.

“I wish…” Harry replied. He did miss home, but he needed to be away. At least for a little while. His eyes drifted to a photo of a young Draco and his mother. “How is your mum?” He asked.

Draco sighed.

Narcissa had insisted on staying in England, now in a small cottage on the outskirts of society. She had been pushed there, and so had Draco. But she was being as strong as she could. The blonde explained that he hadn't wanted to leave her at first, but there was nothing left for him back there. No motivation to get back into a society that didn't want him.

Then, he got a call from Pansy who begged him to go to Paris. The way she talked about her business actually inspired him to do something. So, he left.

“I’d most likely be moping and greying if she hadn’t called,” Draco said, half joking.

Harry agreed. While Draco introduced him to his friends, Pansy offered him work. “Does she do that a lot?”

Draco quirked a brow. “Do what?”

“Give people jobs?”

Finishing his glass of wine, Draco smiled fondly as he thought about his friend. “If you mean the likes of you and me, yes. She has a sixth sense almost,” he joked. However, the bespectacled man looked confused. “She picks up on those who have talent in her line of work, even if they don’t realise it.”

Harry found that fascinating. “Is that how she chooses most of her staff?”

“All of us,” Draco replied. “Even you.”

Harry went to say something, but before he could, a fluffy cat jumped on his lap and demanded attention.

“Altesse! Sorry, she normally doesn't do that,” Draco apologised.

“No worries,” Harry waved it off, hands petting the cat lovingly. “You’re cute so you know you can get away with it,” he mumbled to the cat who flicked her ear in approval.

Since Harry didn't mind, Draco didn't either. He grabbed the bottle from the table, pouring himself some more wine. He titled it towards Harry’s glass in question, pouring when the man nodded.

“Do you have pets?” Draco asked, amused by the way his cat and Potter were playing.

“No,” Harry said almost sadly. “But the animals at Luca’s shelter are wonderful.”

“So, you’d adopt?”

“Definitely.” Harry looked back up at the blonde grinning. “I’d need a bigger place though.”

Harry spent the next day lounging about his apartment. He was lucky enough to have a tub in the bathroom, so he figured he’d make the best of it. He lit one of those candles he bought the other day and sunk into the warm water. His hair was tied up, glasses sitting on the vanity.

He almost fell asleep in there.

When he got out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and nothing more. He quickly regretted that as the breeze that swept through his apartment was chilly on his skin.

With a sigh, he realised he would have to go shopping. He did bring clothes with him, but he also knew the weather in France was different than England. Besides, he figured he might try to dress more like a Parisian. Something different, something fun. Yet another thing to separate him from the stress back in England.

Putting on a shirt and pants, Harry plopped down onto his couch. Before he could do anything, his phone buzzed on the side table. Curious, he picked it up.

From: Draco Malfoy

               Drinks is on Wed. this week.

               If you wanted to come.

The tips of Harry’s lips lifted. He had been wondering if they had drinks on the same night every week after finding out just how busy Pansy was. He assumed the others were also super busy, seeing as they all owned their own businesses.

Harry quickly typed out his reply.

-- Love to. Should I bring something?

From: Draco Malfoy

               More pastries. Pansy’s request.

Harry sent back a smiley face. Tossing his phone back onto the side table, he got comfy on the sofa. After a while, he drifted off to sleep as the sun changed direction and filled his apartment with warmth.

Wednesday… he had two days until then.

Those two days were uneventful. He went back to that rooftop café he found, happy that the workers remembered him. That time, his request for a tea did not throw them off.

Around midday, he stopped by his favourite bakery and got a bag of sweets. He didn't know half the stuff he was ordering, but it all looked fantastic. As long as it wasn't some weird combination like mushrooms and caramel, he was happy.

He made sure to keep the bag out of the sun as he wasted his afternoon away.

Once night began to fall, he locked up his apartment and apparated to Pansy’s. He arrived earlier than the week prior but was not surprised to see that most were already there. As he was led up the stairs, he found Elle, Camile and Draco lounging on the couches, wine glasses already in their hands.

“Bonsoir Harry,” Elle greeted him. She rose from the couch to give him a kiss on the cheek before moving on to Pansy. The latter had hurried to the kitchen to stash the pastries. Putting her glass down, Elle crept up behind Pansy, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Ma chérie, are you not going to share?”

Harry looked away. Maybe too quickly. But seeing that interaction had reminded him of his singleness and how most of his attempts at a relationship had ended on not-so good terms. Apart from Ginny, of course.

He plopped himself down next to Malfoy without thinking about it.

The blonde didn't seem to mind. Instead, he raised a brow at his friend who was sitting on the other couch.

Camile was giving him a look that meant she wanted to know something. “So, Draco,” she started, sipping her wine. The red on her lips left nothing behind on the glass. “What happened to that kitchen hand boy?” One of her brows quirked as she smiled.

Malfoy flushed brightly. He cleared his throat before he spoke, resisting the urge to down the rest of his wine. Not only did he not want to talk about that man, but for some reason, the idea of Potter hearing it made it all the worse. “Nothing.”

“Oh, so you dropped him? Shame, he was young and fit,” Camile teased.

“He was only two years younger!” Draco protested. It wasn't as if he was trying to date someone just out of school. No, he was more respectable than that.

Pansy suddenly appeared with more wine bottles and glasses. She complained about how Draco had complained about the kitchen hand, talking about it on their lunch breaks. On the bright side, the man had decided to move to a different restaurant – which was good news for Elle as the man was helping her competitor.

Harry was confused as the woman started joking about how Malfoy shouldn't be one to complain.

Their smiles turned almost evil as dread hit Draco hard.

“You mean, you don’t know about Mr. Pamper Prince here?” Camile asked.

Malfoy stopped the conversation right there. He begged his friends to change the topic. He already had them poking fun at his beauty routine, he didn't feel like adding Potter to the mix.

Thankfully, Lottie and Luca arrived just in time. However, the latter was a bit down.

Luca didn't chat much as the gathering officially started and the others were getting worried. He was usually the hyper one, even after spending all day with the animals at his shelter.

Luca sighed when asked what was wrong. “Milo had people interested, but they thought he was too hyper.” It was true that the Great Dane was a bit on the energetic side, but that shouldn't stop him from going to a nice home. “He's only six months! No where near the end of the puppy stage.” His eyes shot up to look at Potter. “He missed you today, I think,” Luca said.

Harry tilted his head slightly, hair tumbling with the movement. “Really?”

Luca nodded and said with a small laugh, “You can keep up with him better.”

Beside Potter, Malfoy looked mortified at the idea of having such a large dog. Maybe he’d come around one day, but that was a hard maybe.

The night continued. Eventually, everyone was lively and enjoying the wine. At some point, Pansy did retrieve the pastries from the kitchen and offered them to her friends.

The group talked about random things, tried to get to know Harry a bit more, and failed to create a spontaneous group outing. Everyone kept saying they were busy or that they needed to check their calendars.

Fed up, Pansy went and got a spare calendar from downstairs. She began by scribbling down her and Draco’s schedule for the rest of the week. Muttering something under her breath, the paper duplicated itself. Everyone watched on curiously as she wrote something on one of the calendars. Seconds later, it appeared on the duplicate.

Satisfied, Pansy leant back. She repeated those muttered words and created five more copies of the calendar. Holding the pen tighter, she concentrated hard and the entries for her and Draco changed colours.

“There,” she said, happy with her work. “Now we can plan easier.”

The others stared at her, impressed. Even a bit tipsy she knew how to do something complicated.

Harry counted the number of calendars she did, unable to keep the smile that spread on his lips. There was enough for all seven of them. His heart did a funny thing at the thought that he was already a member of their friend group, considering how close they all seemed.

“Welcome to the club,” Draco said. He was smiling when Harry looked over at him. “No leaving now,” he joked.

If Pansy wasn't sitting on the other couch, she would have hit his arm.

The next day, Harry watched in awe and horror as his calendar began to fill itself in.

Pansy was the busiest in the group. She had meetings after meetings, run throughs, networking events, the different stores… The list felt endless. Then again, it was her business that she started from scratch. Not only was she the boss, but she was still head creator for new designs and such. A businesswoman of many talents.

Elle was the second busiest. She was manager and owner at her current two restaurants as well as being head chef at them both whenever she stepped into the kitchen. She was much like Pansy – doing everything in order to do it right. She was looking for a third location, feeling confident.

Camile was surprisingly the next. Her plant nursery was doing well but she was also involved with local universities and researchers of all kinds. People looking to make discoveries or cures. She was often in meetings or helping a potions expert brew something new or trying to make a specific plant grow.

Luca had a normal enough working week. Though his hours were much longer. He put most of his energy into keeping his shelter running and didn't have a lot of employees – less than what others would recommend, but they were good. His days could be flexible if he really needed them to be. Every now and then, a charity event would be sprinkled in.

Draco was somewhat busy, but certainly not the worst. Currently, his number of shoots were minimal as P. Parks Fashion was putting together their next season. His next few months involved test running outfits and sitting in on certain meetings to give his stylistic input.

Lottie didn't have a clear schedule. She would simply block out time periods or entire days where she was unavailable. Nobody had a clue what she did. Well, apart from the few times she'll be requested by a school or hospital and entertain kids who really need a cheer up.

And then there was Harry. The only reason he knew what his colour was on the calendar was because Pansy added a legend to the side.

He knew he shouldn't feel bad about it. He was there to relax, unwind, find himself – he didn't need a job. But if he happened upon one, he wouldn't decline.

As he turned away from the almost frightful thing on his wall, his phone went off.

“Hi Pansy,” he greeted.

“Bonjour Harry! I'd love if you came by this afternoon,” Pansy said. There was faint yelling in the background interrupted by a yelp as Pansy’s pen became lodged in the wall between the people. With a breath, she kept speaking. “If you’re interested in the business and also to see one of our camera’s here.”

“Sure.”

“Great, see you at four.”

She left no room for debate and as Harry tossed his phone aside to charge, he realised a small detail. Pansy would be in a meeting.

Lucky for Harry, the Slytherin had also called up her favourite blonde and asked him to come in to help.

Draco kindly explained what Pansy was wanting to do, but Harry wasn't taking in the words. His eyes caught sight of white and yellow trailing up the blonde’s arm as he folded up his sleeve.

“Is that a tattoo?” Harry asked, accidently cutting the other man off. The ink looked immaculate against the fair skin. It almost made him want to reach out and trace it.

Draco startled but quickly recollected himself. “Yes,” he said with a smile. “Daffodils – also known as Narcissus.”

“When did you get it done?”

Draco hummed. “The day I came to France. I was tired of seeing that horrid mark and already missed mother dearly,” he said.

For a moment, Harry had forgotten about the dark mark that had been etched onto Malfoy’s skin. The mark that represented ruin in both their lives. Now, he thought the flowers were a far better choice – quite pretty too. A thrill ran up his spine at the idea of getting another tattoo himself.

“Do you have anymore?” Harry asked. He may have hoped to have a tattoo buddy after this, but he was just excited someone else actually had one. None of his friends dared to get them and the only Weasley to have one was Charlie.

“No,” Draco replied. He could clearly see the sudden energy in Potter’s eyes at the mention of the ink. He had stalked the other in 6th year – knowing what those green eyes lighting up meant was a given. Remembering something, Draco grew curious. “How many do you have?”

“Four.” Harry grinned at him.

Against his dark skin was a perfect, singular lily flower right over his heart. It was fairly large and took up most of his pec. On his left shoulder blade was the upper half of a proud stag. It trailed down the side of his back as the fur lines faded. Both were highly detailed and almost life like. On his left shoulder was his smallest and simplest tattoo. It was a filled in dog paw that had the moon and a star above it.

Harry’s last tattoo was of a snitch. It sat curled up on his upper, outer right thigh. “This one was done at a magic parlour.”

“I didn’t know those existed,” Malfoy said. The idea of getting a charmed tattoo intrigued him, but he'd no idea of what to get.

“They’re great,” Harry said. “The snitch can unfurl and moves about.”

“Oh.” Malfoy stared off into the distance, distracted by a thought. Though that was quickly ripped away as he saw friend making her way towards him, heels silent.

Pansy slung her arm around Potter, startling the poor man. She started teasing them that it took forty minutes to discuss what they were supposed to be doing. She got an eyeroll from Malfoy and an apologetic smile from Potter.

“Sorry, I got excited and started talking about tattoos,” Harry explained.

Pansy looked between them and smiled. “I’ll allow it… this time.”

After that, she put them both to work.

Draco was given a long coat that he had to make work with his outfit and accessible accessories. He was to pose and do what he thought might work for a potential photoshoot.

Potter was finally given a camera. Pansy stood next to him as he figured out buttons, lenses, scales, and such. Then it was about him trying to find a good angle even if he thought the pose Draco was in was awkward.

Pansy wanted to see what he could do.

After a while, she stood back and just watched the two work together. Instead of asking her, Potter would ask Draco if he thought an idea might work and the blonde was happy to help. It was fun to watch.

The longer Draco posed, the more relaxed he got, the quieter Potter became and his frown less prominent.

“Alright,” Pansy said with a clap and a smile. She heard the faint click of the camera as Potter took one last photo. She would love to see that one. “C’mon,” she beckoned them both over to a computer booth, connecting the camera.

The photos started off not so great. Even so, if Pansy thought the pose was good, she hit print. Then the pictures started getting better, making even poses she usually didn't like look good. There was a lot there. Some were just pictures of the light instead of Draco.

And then she got to the last one and she smiled. It was a mid-motion shot. Draco was running a hand through his hair with his eyes closed, right after she had called time. He was about to take a step and his tattoos were poking through the coat sleeve slightly, the most colourful thing in the entire shot.

Pansy hit print.

Waving a hand, she told Draco to go get Potter dressed in something different before turning back to the computer to save the images off the camera. Brain ticking away, she created a folder and put some of the better ones in there as well as the last one. With quick hands, she shared the folder with Potter before shutting down the computer.

They had a dinner to get to after all.

Part 1 // Part 3

Also on AO3

[monsieurenjlolras]

you've heard of "quiet quitting," now I'd like to introduce you to the next level, The French Work Ethic:

Do exactly what you're paid for and nothing more

Absolutely refuse to be available to contact when you're off the clock

Never prioritize work over your own health, wellbeing, or family because that would be insane, it's just a job.

Have a little glass of wine

Take as long as you feel like for lunch

Deeply understand that work doesn't matter

Make sure your boss knows they're always your second priority ❤️

[gentlemanmotorslifestyle]

[xxgwenstacyxx]

y'all...

[life-on-our-planet]

The Patagonian mara is a large rodent, resembling a large jackrabbit and most closely related to capybaras and guinea pigs. They're monogamous until one partner dies, but generally breeding happens in large communal dens where care of young is occasionally shared. ©

[ammascrellin]

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it

lady bird (2017) / the bear (2022–) / frances ha (2012) / past lives (2023) / good will hunting (1997) / lost in translation (2003) / fleabag (2016–2019) / normal people (2020) / la la land (2016) / moonlight (2016) / sharp objects (2018) / the worst person in the world (2021) / call me by your name (2017) / shiva baby (2020)

[ancestorsalive]

Gavrinis is a small island in the Gulf of Morbihan in Brittany, France. It contains the Gavrinis tomb, a Neolithic passage tomb built around 4200–4000 BC, making it one of the world's oldest surviving buildings. Stones inside the passage and chamber are covered in megalithic art. It is likened to other Neolithic passage tombs such as Barnenez in Brittany and Newgrange in Ireland.

[thatsbelievable]

[temtamtom]

I’ve got 18th century France on the brain again, here he is as a cuirassier ❤️

[vintagehomecollection]

The French Touch: Decoration and Design in the Most Beautiful Homes in France, 1988

[galina]

Hot girlies read books

[gentlemanmotorslifestyle]

[jloisse]

his kid is a legend🔥

🇮🇱: “No Politics Here”

They flipped him into a resistance fighter in less than 30 seconds😭😂

[ilomilodailystuff]

Okay. I see the fandom panicking and even starting to destroy itself...

For the ones who still love GO and would continue to love it as they always did but is judged because of ONE☝️ person's actions that might or might not be true, know you're safe here and I wouldn't judge you for loving GO despite Neil's accusations.

Because you gotta keep in mind that this show AND book are also Terry's. And you have to keep in mind that Neil wasn't alone in that project. Think about all the people that worked on the show, whether it's the crew or the actors. They're absolutely innocent, so why would you spit on their work as if they were guilty too ? Of course none of them would support Neil's actions if it's true, that doesn't mean we have to throw every poster or book or drawing or delete every fanfic or even stop writing fanfic because of this as if everyone were in the same boat.

These accusations are about Neil and Neil only and I would find it kinda sad that this story would be thrown away despite Terry had worked on it too, despite it also was in his memory. Ofc, if it's true, it's obvious Terry wouldn't be okay with it either but does that mean a story fully achieved and their characters have to be condemned with Gaiman ? Mostly when now, a lot of illustrators, writers and animators made it their own ? Mostly when it somehow saved many people's lives ? Mostly when this book or show had made people laugh and cry ?

This fandom is stronger than that.

Let's not mix everything.

Would you find it appropriate to talk about GO to the victims ? Obviously, no. For the sole reason that it's not. the same. thing. We have to put things back in their places. GO is GO, harassment and s*xual aggression are what they are. And it would be incredibly disrespectful to mix both.

So, my point is. Don't be ashamed to love GO despite what's happening. Don't feel guilty for supporting a show while you don't support the author. Don't let the fandom die because of one person's actions when there's so many people who worked on it almost just as much. I understand you're upset, I understand you'd think it might be hypocritical to love a show with the creator being accused of horrible things. But make the difference.

And I can assure you, if Neil is not guilty (and if he is, I hope the victims will get justice and Neil will have what he deserves) I'm pretty sure that he's not thinking about Good Omens at all right now, but just thinking about sorting this out and clearing his name as every innocent person would need to do so.

So, whether the truth is hurtful or a relief, let's keep the GO fandom going. For if it's hurtful, we will make Terry's story alive for his and many people's sake, and if it's a relief, we would have been doing things right by not jumping into conclusions.

Either way, you're welcome here and you're safe with me. Keep loving. Spread some joy. Don't let Neil's possible actions stain a wonderful story that is not only his own ❤️

[grungeprincess2]

Most iconic Courtney Love outfits- Kinderwhore style

[wlntrsldler]

iii. you come around and the armor falls, pierce the room like a cannonball. now all we know is don’t let go. | luke castellan | state of grace

seventeen-year-old luke castellan returns from his failed quest and wonders if he's good enough for you.

series masterlist | previous | next

seventeen-year-old luke castellan came face-to-face with death but against his better judgment, and the medical advice from lee who told him to lay in bed and heal, he stood up to drag himself across the floors of the infirmary to sit beside the bed where you were unconscious. 

thankfully, you were going to be okay. it would just take a few hours for the medicine to kick in until you regain consciousness. it was luke who took the brunt of the attack. he can feel the sticky bandages covered in his blood across his back and his face. luke managed to prop himself up on the small wooden chair. 

he’d grown taller and bigger over the years and the chair was definitely not the most comfortable place for him, especially not with all his wounds, but he had to make do. he couldn’t stay on his bed, across the way from you while you slept alone. in the off chance that you’ll wake up before the 5-hour estimate they’d given him about the medicine, he didn’t want you to wake up without someone next to you. 

you weren’t even supposed to be there. he didn’t even know how you’d found him, but he should’ve known better when you looked at him with that look in your eye, the look that he got from you whenever you were about to save him from something, even if he didn’t know he’d be in trouble yet. you always seemed to show up just when he needed you– like his own personal guardian angel. 

he thought back to when he was fourteen and you let him tag along with you, oliver, and beth to the athena cabin because you noticed he was anxious to be left alone. you didn't even know what he'd gone through then, but you somehow knew exactly what to say, what to do.

he thought of his first full summer at camp. he'd just turned fifteen, before he was named head counselor, and he accidentally set the shed that the satyrs used to house their gardening tools on fire. the stolls managed to sneak in fireworks and the three of them thought the perfect welcome for the summer campers was a firework show. he wandered into the shed in search of a lighter and found one tucked underneath a tablecloth, probably left by one of the older campers when they smoked.

between him and his siblings, they shared one and a half brain cells so he, stupidly, tried the lighter while he peeked his head under the tablecloth and the whole thing erupted in flames before he could even react. thankfully, you were already out looking for him when you noticed he slipped away from dinner.

you helped him put the fire out before it got too bad and paid for the damage with the few drachmas you had saved up. luke managed to pay you back after picking up random tasks for campers for a small fee, although, you argued with him that it was okay, that he didn't owe you anything, but at that point, luke figured he owed you much more than just a few drachmas.

chiron and mr. d ended up loving the idea of the fireworks show and asked who was responsible for the festivities. you stood up and pointed at him, grinning like you were happy he was finally getting the recognition he deserved. he didn't think he deserved the credit, it would've ended in a shitshow if it weren't for you.

he was promoted to head counselor a week later.

luke fell asleep hunched over your sleeping body, sleeping on the side of his face without the fresh scar. he woke up to the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp a few hours later. he sat up, immediately holding your hand between his own. 

“you’re up,” he croaked out, rubbing the tears away from his eyes, “how are you, angel?” 

“feelin’ great, bub,” you faked a smile, exhaustion evident on your features. “how are you? you’re the one who got attacked by a dragon.” 

luke flinched at the memory, holding your hand up to his lips, “don’t worry about me. i’m good.” 

“let me worry about you, hm?” you mumbled. “i’m always worried about you.” 

“you shouldn’t have been there,” he sighed. his anger against his father was rising again. “it was my quest. you’re not even allowed to go on other people’s quests anymore, remember?” 

“you’re dumb if you think i was going to let you go into a suicide mission alone, luke,” you replied. you moved over on the small bed, motioning him to join you. “needed to make sure you were gonna be okay.” 

“i don't want that if it's at your expense,” he mumbled, following your request. you laid your head on his chest, allowing him to push you closer to him. his hands found the ends of your hair, twirling it around his fingers, “don’t know what i would’ve done if you–” 

he couldn’t finish his sentence. he didn’t want to think about it. he let himself be delusional, ignoring the reality of being a demigod. luke wanted to beat the odds with you, get out of here with you, mostly unscathed. he didn’t want to think about a life without you in it. he couldn’t. 

“hey, it’s okay,” you placed his hand over your heart, letting him feel it beat. “i’m okay, see?” 

your optimism was something luke admired about you. the way you viewed life like a gift despite everything you'd gone through. he wished he could see things the way you did, but he didn't understand it.

he looked at you, thinking of how you'd just risked your life for him, and he couldn't stop himself from feeling so hopeless. this was not the life you deserved.

he let out a breath, turning to face the ceiling, “i don’t understand how you’re not furious at the gods right now.” 

“there’s so many horrible things to be angry at, luke,” you whispered, placing a kiss on his bruised hands. “i’m mad at the gods for allowing this to happen to all of us, their children. i am angry luke, but i have been given so much because of it, too.” 

he stayed silent, letting you continue. he felt his breaths even out as he listened to the sound of your voice. 

“i grew up as an only child until i met my siblings. now, i love them. i can’t imagine not knowing them,” you smiled, “the rest of the campers, they can be a handful sometimes, but there isn’t a boring day in my life. there’s always adventure and fun and love.” 

luke turned to look at you to find that you were already staring at him. even in the dark, he can make out the look on your face. that face that made him feel safe so effortlessly. 

“i met you because of them,” you continued, placing a soft kiss on his lips, trying not to put too much pressure on him knowing he was still healing, “there are so many things i am angry at the gods for, but knowing you… well, it makes up for it, don’t you think?” 

he didn’t know if he had a complex enough vocabulary or if there were any words in any language that could scratch the surface of how he felt about you. you were in every part of him. he thought of you, your eyes when he woke up to the sun shining on his face, bright and hopeful because there was a new day ahead. he thought of you, your lips when he tasted the fruits they served during meals, sweet and addicting. he thought of you, your smile during his nightmares, safely pulling him back to reality, a life where you were there with him. 

it’s only been you since he met you. he had a feeling it’s only been you in every life he lived before this one. and it will only be you in every life after it. 

luke settled, “i love you.” 

“i love you,” you replied, kissing him once more. “let’s rest now, hm? want to be able to kiss you proper.” 

he couldn’t help but laugh, shutting his eyes as his body succumbed to the tiredness in his limbs, “me too.” 

lee fletcher found you two tangled in the covers, sleeping soundly, when he entered the infirmary the morning after. usually, he’d scold his patients for disobeying orders, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the rules right now, not when you and luke looked so peaceful sleeping beside each other. 

word about luke’s failed quest spread quickly after your return. the looks of pity were starting to get to luke. you noticed that he’d been distant, too, opting to not let you clean up his scars when he replaced the bandages. he only went in to see lee when he knew the infirmary was absolutely clear of people. he stopped letting you touch his face and run your hands down his back. at first, you chalked it up to the fact that he was healing and the wounds probably still hurt to the touch, but after a conversation with lee, where you slyly asked how luke’s healing process was going, you knew it wasn’t that anymore. 

lee let you know that the wounds were healing faster than anticipated. new tissue was replacing his damaged ones and that the cream he prescribed luke would ensure that the scars would be faint, noticeable, but not as intense as they could’ve been. you walked away from your conversation with the boy with your shoulders sagged and your smile a little less bright. there was something else going on with luke and he wasn’t telling you about it. 

when luke returned to the hermes cabin, tired from his three-hour-long training, he expected the cabin to be empty with all his siblings away at the campfire, but instead, he found you, tidying up around the area of his bed. he shut the door quietly, hoping to have a few moments where he could just admire you. 

he’d been avoiding you more than usual so he hadn’t gotten the chance to spend as much time with you as he’d liked to. he doesn’t remember the last time he hugged you longer than a quick side hug before he was jogging to move onto his next activity or the last time he’d been able to have a conversation with you about something other than counselor duties. luke missed you. he missed you a lot, but he felt so disgusted with himself that he couldn't bring himself to be in your presence. 

the scars were healing fine, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d think he was hideous and weak and a failure. it seemed like everyone else at camp did, anyway. the scar on his face stretched from his eye all the way down to his jaw. every time he looked in the mirror, it reminded him of what he wasn’t able to do, of what he put you through. it made him sick to remember it. 

the wounds on his back started on his shoulder blades and ended in the middle of his spine. it wasn’t a good look. not even all his trainings and his workouts to get his back defined could hide the scar. 

his wounds were now the first thing people noticed when they saw him. he hated it. 

he wasn’t naive enough to believe that he was the most attractive guy in the world, but at least before the quest, he felt like he was average. he was tall enough, built adequately, and he wasn’t terrible to look at. but now, it felt like he was knocked down a few pegs. if he thought he didn’t deserve you back then, he sure as hell knew he didn’t deserve you now. 

he watched you fluff his pillows and fold his blankets before he decided to make himself known. he walked over to you, placing a quick kiss on the back of your head, before walking to his dresser to pull out his clothes for bed. 

“been waiting for you,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his torso. you gently placed your head on his back, listening to the sound of his breaths pick up. “where have you been?” 

“training,” he replied, removing your arms from him. you placed your head so close to his wounds and he was sure you could feel the bumps of his flesh through his thin camp shirt. “why aren’t you at the campfire?” 

you frowned, sitting on his bed, “because you weren’t there.” 

“you can still go and hang out with your friends,” he reasoned, directing his head at an awkward angle so you don’t see the scarred side of his face. the bandage on his face fell off a few hours ago. he forgot to stop by the infirmary to ask lee for some more.

“don’t wanna hang out with them right now, luke,” you said, eyebrows furrowed. “i want to hang out with you.” 

“i’m really tired right now, angel,” luke turned around again, pretending to dig through his drawers for something. he tilted his head low, hoping that his shadow would hide his face. “maybe tomorrow or something?” 

“okay,” you sounded defeated. luke heard his sheets ruffle from under you as you got up. he followed the sound of your footsteps all the way to the door. he waited for the sound of the door to open, but it never came. instead, it was your voice, hushed, “luke, i don’t understand.” 

he lifted his head, “huh?” 

“i said i don’t understand,” your voice was trembling. luke couldn’t help but face you then. your eyes welled up with tears, bottom lip quivering as you tried to speak. “what’s going on with you?” 

luke clenched his jaw, “nothing.” 

“there’s something going on,” you rebutted, walking closer to him. you stopped in your tracks as he took a step back. you let the tears fall, “i can usually sense what’s going on with people but with you right now, i just can’t. i-it’s like i’m so blinded by how i feel about you that instead of understanding what’s going on with you, i can only focus on what i could’ve done wrong.” 

“you haven’t done anything wrong,” luke licked his lips, wanting nothing else but to hold you in his arms. he was fighting back the tears now, too. the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry. he sniffled, “i’m just tired, angel.” 

“that’s never stopped you before,” you said. “even before we were dating, you always found me just for the sake of being with me. we'd talk nonsense until we lost our voices, and then we'd sit in silence together. you used to sit and wait in the back of the art room until my lesson was over just so we could come back here and be together until it was lights out.” 

“that was then.” 

“what changed?” you asked, voice hoarse. your tears were unstoppable now. you rubbed your eyes, trying to get a clearer vision of the boy in front of you. he was hidden in the shadows of the dim light. “do you.. do you not feel the same about me anymore?” 

“no, never that,” he shook his head, eyes wide. he tossed his clothes on his bed, stepping closer to you. “i love you, you know this.” 

“so come back to me, luke,” you cried, taking a tiny step closer to him. “come home to me.” 

luke groaned, falling to his knees. he buried his face in his hands, sobbing at your words. you ran to him, engulfing him in a hug, as his sobs shook his entire body. he mumbled incoherent words into his palms. 

“what is it, luke?” you asked him, peppering kisses on the crown of his head.

he took a deep breath, “i’m not ready for you to realize that i’m not good enough for you anymore. i’m not ready to lose you.” 

“oh my love,” you sighed, prying his hands away from his face. he turned his cheek, biting his bottom lip. you weren’t having it anymore. you grabbed his face in your hands forcing him to look at you, “what’s gotten into you?” 

“i know you see it,” he said, voice cracking. his eyes were focused on the wall behind you. “the scar. i know you see it.” 

“and?”

“it’s hideous, angel,” he confessed. a single tear rolled down his cheek. you were quick to wipe it away, “i know what people say about me now.” 

“is this what all of this was about?” you questioned, pressing your forehead to his.

luke closed his eyes. he missed you so much. “yes.” 

you removed your hands from his face and let your index finger trace the line down his scar. he sucked in a breath despite himself. he wanted to hide and shy away from you, your touch left him vulnerable and open, but he knew there was no need for that anymore. you pressed soft kisses all over his face, cradling his jaw in your palm. you kissed the lids of his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows, the points of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, until you got to his scar. 

you were even gentler now, luke didn’t know how it was possible. he could feel your lips ghosting over the raised flesh, apprehensive. he squeezed the skin of your hip, giving you the okay. with that, your lips touched his cheek, a kiss with purpose. 

luke shuddered at the feeling. why did he deprive himself of this? from the love in your touch and the emotions behind your actions? he pulled you closer, trying to make up for lost time. 

you sighed happily in his grasp, pulling yourself away from his cheek to place a kiss on his lips. all the air was knocked out of luke’s lungs. he’d kissed you a million times before, but this felt different. luke knew you loved him, you said it more than he deserved to hear it, and of course, he felt your love in everything that you did with him; in stolen touches in the middle of crowds, in corny jokes you made just to see him smile, in your words when you tell him he’s more than enough, but in this kiss, it was all of those moments, all of what you felt for him, amplified.

he couldn’t breathe. it was too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you, not when you were kissing him like this. not when you were anchoring him back to where he belonged. not when you were reminding him of everything he could have if he just let himself have it. 

eventually, you pulled away from him, tear-stained cheeks and pink, raw lips. luke thought you looked incredible. even after all this time, over a year of being together and over three years of knowing each other, your cheeks still flushed because of him. a small smile made its way to his lips, you still had that effect on him too. 

you got up from the floor, offering your hand to luke. he gladly accepted it and allowed you to lead him to his bed. you slipped off your shoes, your signature cartoon owl socks on full display as you laid on his bed. he joined you, pulling you close to his chest. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, fingers playing with the string of his camp necklace. 

the campfire was coming to an end and soon the cabin would be filled with his loud, rowdy, siblings, who he grew to love, but for now, he’ll get lost in this moment with you. he’ll wander aimlessly in this feeling, the feeling of his girl asleep on his chest, a hand over his heart to remind him that she's still here. he’ll let himself get lost for a few more minutes, after all, he’ll always find his way back home to you.