Chapter Text
“Don't call me,” he had said.
I don't want any contact with you. I don't want anything to do with you.
If Percy had to describe the whole ordeal it could only be summed up one way. Fuckfest.
“I don't want contact with you.”
As if his skin was a branding poker, burning its way through the world. As if his voice was metal scraping against rocks. All flint and spark but no real purpose, permanence. Damages everything, leaves nothing. As if he is—
I don't want anything to do with you. Echoes in his ear like a basketball bouncing on an empty court. The sound is so familiar he can almost replace it with his heartbeat. Empty. A hollowed shell, made a cave. Abandoned cave. The dragon that used to live there hoarding its treasure troves of "I love yous" and "get home safe" and "pancakes for dinner" and "forehead/knuckle/ear/neck/pretty kisses", has packed up forever. Taken its golden box and blew down a wall to get out.
It's so drafty. Percy clutches his chest. He's sure he can feel the biting wind rattling around.
“I don't want any contact with you.”
And he wants to scream "I didn't do what you think." And he wants to cry, "I would never hurt you this way." And he wants to crack in half with the truth of, "How could I when you are the only person who has ever made me feel." Feel what? “Feel." He would stop there. "Just feel." Not something you can take for granted. How beautiful it is to find someone who makes him feel.
He doesn't have it. Never gets to say it. He sees blonde hair, hunched shoulders. A back turning towards him, and fading out of site. He doesn't know how to make his legs run, make his fingers curl around the disappearing hoodie and tug gently. He doesn't know how to feel.
“Don't call me.”
Jason Grace doesn't answer the phone.
“I don't want any contact with you.”
Jason Grace doesn't open the door.
“I don't want anything to do with you.”
Jason Grace doesn't have the choice anymore.
Jason Grace isn't coming back.