[✩] Augusta Reynolds|17|she/her|Hades|Head counsellor|Cabin 13|tags:Orin
Auggie rolled her eyes when he asked her not to tell anyone that he’d been right about something. “Yeah, right, as if I’m ever going to tell anyone about this.” She wasn’t specific in what she meant, but it was evident from her tone and the slightly ashamed look on her face that nothing that had just happened would ever be brought up to anyone else.
“If you ever tell anyone about me...” She couldn’t say crying. That’s exactly what she’d done, but now that she’d regained control of herself she couldn’t say it. “Then I’ll...” The words died on her tongue again, not bothering to finish the empty threat. She wouldn’t do anything, she knew that and at this point, he probably did too. Instead, she just shrugged. “No one would believe you.”
When she picked up the photo again and asked for his lighter, he questioned her only briefly before giving in. She tried not to show her surprise on her face, having expected him to tell her what a terrible idea it was, but appreciated that he didn’t. Maybe part of her knew she was being impulsive again, that she might regret the loss of the photo later on, but burning bridges was something she’d gotten used to. It was almost a security. If she was the one doing the burning, then she was the one in control. Nobody could take that away from her. “The bridge is already burned,” she muttered, bitterly. “I’m just clearing away the rubble.”
Then he drew his hand from his pocket, and with it came the cellphone, clattering to the cabin floor. Her eyes went to the forbidden device immediately, eyebrows raised, but she said nothing.
She took the lighter carefully, only half listening to his directions as her attention was more caught by the phone he had dropped. He seemed eager to explain himself, as if she was actually going to judge him for breaking the rules. “First of all, calm down. I wouldn’t care if you were.” He had to know that. Out of anyone at this camp she was usually the one encouraging people to break the rules for the hell of it. Having a phone on you was maybe not the brightest way to do that, especially considering everything going on, but she assumed he had a fairly good reason for carrying around a literal monster beacon in his pocket.
She didn’t try to look at his screen, but a brief glance told her there were several notifications, and judging by his expression and choice of words, they weren’t good. She frowned, photograph and lighter still tight in her grip, but momentarily forgotten in the face of something more pressing. “What’s wrong?” she asked carefully, unsure whether she actually wanted the answer to that question. Clearly, a lot of things were wrong, this was likely just another problem to add to the ever growing list.