Theea
resilient little thing, just like mama raised you
The moment he says captain of training, my smile deepens—warm, genuine.
“I know,” I say, a touch of pride slipping into my voice. “She told me a story once about this completely chaotic game of capture-the-flag you ran for a bunch of them. I don’t even think she finished the story before she started laughing so hard she had to sit down.”
The memory makes me grin, but it fades a little as the conversation shifts, softening into something more complicated. At the mention of Ashe, of what she meant to him and Remi, I glance away briefly, my fingers brushing the edge of a broken windowsill like it might steady me.
“I wish she saw it that way.” My voice is quieter now, touched with that kind of affection that hurts just a little. “She believes she’s some kind of pariah. Like she broke too many things to be welcome again.”
I shrug a little, but it’s not careless. It’s careful. Hopeful.
“I’m hoping she’ll be brave enough to join me out here. To make peace. Especially now that…” I trail off, then shake my head gently as I go on, “she’s alone, unless you count Percy and Soot. I think she misses everyone more than she knows what to do with.”
I try to summon another joke, something easy and light, but it doesn’t quite stick the landing.
“Anyway, I don’t do great without someone to spar with. My imaginary opponents are starting to make me develop bad habits, like forgetting to wrap my knuckles and accidentally punching my roommate in the face.”
I huff a soft laugh, but it drops off quickly into clearing my throat.
“I know,” I say, a touch of pride slipping into my voice. “She told me a story once about this completely chaotic game of capture-the-flag you ran for a bunch of them. I don’t even think she finished the story before she started laughing so hard she had to sit down.”
The memory makes me grin, but it fades a little as the conversation shifts, softening into something more complicated. At the mention of Ashe, of what she meant to him and Remi, I glance away briefly, my fingers brushing the edge of a broken windowsill like it might steady me.
“I wish she saw it that way.” My voice is quieter now, touched with that kind of affection that hurts just a little. “She believes she’s some kind of pariah. Like she broke too many things to be welcome again.”
I shrug a little, but it’s not careless. It’s careful. Hopeful.
“I’m hoping she’ll be brave enough to join me out here. To make peace. Especially now that…” I trail off, then shake my head gently as I go on, “she’s alone, unless you count Percy and Soot. I think she misses everyone more than she knows what to do with.”
I try to summon another joke, something easy and light, but it doesn’t quite stick the landing.
“Anyway, I don’t do great without someone to spar with. My imaginary opponents are starting to make me develop bad habits, like forgetting to wrap my knuckles and accidentally punching my roommate in the face.”
I huff a soft laugh, but it drops off quickly into clearing my throat.
so you got that wildfire in your soul
don't you ever let it go
make it burn so bright that they all know
don't you ever let it go
make it burn so bright that they all know
