Work Text:
Of course his father wasn't going to pick him up.
Apollo found his usual spot beneath the large oak that made it's home upon the few hillocks that they hadn't yet flattened out of the fields surrounding the large academy. It was his daily ritual at this point, counting the students as they left— some going to on-campus dorms, whilst those who lived closer by were picked up by their parents.
The Ixian had a dorm of his own; he was certain his father paid good money for him to have an entire room all to himself. It was peaceful, if not a little lonely, though the future prince wasn't exactly here to make friends— He was here to learn, to study hard, to… well, realistically it was to avoid the persistent assassination attempts on his family.
He stretched, the last few stragglers that he could see having all gone their separate ways, and took out his copy of "Wuthering Heights". An odd choice, but his lab par- Graves… Graves had mentioned doing a thesis on the thing, and he couldn't help but be curious.
Perhaps reading it might help him understand her more. Since their incident together besides the sports field, she had been rather awkward around him— He didn't blame her at all really, how do you even broach such a topic? The movies had lied to him, he knew now all too well.
He sighs as he turns to the first page of his first real dive into human literature.
Of course they weren't going to pick her up, at this point Graves wasn't even sure why she bothered waiting for them.
Her parents were busy, they were always busy. They were never NOT busy. Any time Graves asked for any sort of attention as a child, they simply threw something expensive her way to keep her entertained, so she'd learned long ago to not expect anything.
Yet, she waits for them, and is routinely disappointed.
"Stupid…" She mutters to herself, something in her chest trying to leap it's way out of her throat— her mentor shoving the Thing straight back down where it belonged.
"I told you they wouldn't show… as I do everyday…"
"Yeah… Like I said… Stupid."
She picked up her bag that was slumped on the bench, slinging one strap over a sagging shoulder.
Graves would just go back to her dorm, like she did every day— she couldn't even remember the last time she'd spoken to her parents, so it wasn't a great loss in her life. If she kept telling herself such every day, she might not even feel as terrible about it as she did right now.
That heaving Thing in her chest slinked it's way back up her throat again, more persistent than it usually ever is, causing the girl to huff.
Stupid damned feelings, one of the many things her absentee parents neglected to teach her how to process; and as though the world was praying for her downfall, a chance scan of the fields on the path towards the dorms would reveal a very signature red resting beneath a large oak tree, the sight causing her frown to deepen.
This isn't what she needs right now… Yet that Thing, again, had other plans— her feet stomping across the neatly cut grass, boots kicking little bits of dirt and green with each firm step.
Apollo closed the book, a finger keeping his page, as the dusk's light was blocked by a familiar silhouette.
She was frowning down at him, with what would be her signature pout if the girl cared an inch for popularity.
"Is it customary around these parts to look as vaguely intimidating as possible, or is that just you?" He teased, prompting Graves to toss her bag to the side as she found a space beside him.
"Shut up…"
That might be the most she'd said to him in the past few days.
She lay facing away from him, a move he found peculiar. Hells, the fact that she was this close at all was odd.
He cleared his throat.
"Did something happen?"
"Why do you care?"
"Excuse me for wondering why you're suddenly so comfortable invading my space."
A scoff caused Apollo to scowl, feeling himself already hit what he would call a 'tether'— What was her problem? She had been avoiding him since the day they kissed, and now she was treating him with a coldness that was strange, even for her.
"Look, if this is about the kiss, we can ju-"
"It's not about the damn kiss! Fuck, can't you just…" Her voice broke as an even more unusual sob broke it's way through, she muttered something to herself as she slumped back down next to him— Apollo felt the signature movements against his side of somebody trying to desperately hide the fact that she was crying.
Shit.
He'd never actually had to comfort somebody before, as pathetic as that might sound. People rarely came to him for anything outside of money, so emotions weren't really something he traded in.
What had happened, he wondered, to make the ever grumpy Darcy Graves break down like this, around him of all people…
As she cried, he noticed the grass beneath him felt strangely sharper, the wind pushing its way through the tree above the two oddly louder. His senses seemed to go into overdrive as he desperately tried to figure out how on earth he might help her, however one was supposed to calm the emotions of someone when you had no idea what exactly they were emotional about.
Did she perhaps want to talk about it? He supposed if she did she would just say it, she was brazen enough to outright ask him to kiss her, he couldn't imagine her being hesitant on anything really. Whatever had struck her today was different.
He lay there, thinking for what he hoped wasn't too long, before a thought finally came to him:
"You know… Black coffee isn't that bad."
There was a sniffle, and a bit of movement.
"What?"
"That's what I thought too… But I've grown quite fond of it recently: I shock even myself sometimes."
Graves huffed a small, wet, laugh.
"Shut up, you're being cheesy."
"I am not-- I can't stand the stuff usually, but perhaps I've had my mind changed recently."
"Stop…" She pushed against his side, another laugh, this time a little louder. The sound sparked something warm in Apollo's chest.
"Fine fine, but only if you tell me what's gotten you like this."
She lay back down, curling up a little as she faced him this time "Maybe… at some point…"
A shrug " 'Some point' will do."
They lay quietly for a short while, before Graves frowns, grabbing the book on his chest— his finger still firmly in it's pages, causing him to wince a little.
"Are you reading Wuthering Heights?"
"No!" He snatched it back "I'm merely studying the nature of literature in this realm; we are at school!"
She snorted, her voice still quivering slightly, as she tried her best to hide it "God, you really are cheesy."
Apollo groaned and rolled his eyes, a smile sneaking it's way across his face.