@badboysupr / source
He didn’t expect anyone to find him here. Which was pretty stupid, considering he was in the middle of a camp full of people.
After his grand tour, the kit and caboodle of camp life and the very real fact that he apparently had a place to call “home” now (though how long would that last, huh?), Leo had opted to seclude himself and catch up with much-needed “introvert time.” Nearly everywhere he looked was occupied by at least one person. And he hadn’t worked up the courage to venture off into the woods, since apparently a fire-breathing malfunctioning dragon was running rampant— Good summer camp, Leo thought. Safe for kids.
So he hid between rows of strawberry vines, drifting in and out of thought while watching clouds form shapes above his head. Restless energy even then ticked in his fingers, and they drummed on his chest as his mind kept wheeling back to the dragon—and maybe a couple stupid ideas rising from it.
When she approached him, he was lucky he heard her footsteps before she slid into view. A great first impression he would’ve made if he squeaked like some startled mouse.
Leo perched himself up on his elbows, caught the coin as it began sliding off his chest. “Just a drachma?” he complained, but his hand certainly found entertainment rolling it through his fingers. “What makes you think my thoughts are so cheap?” His head tilted sideways to look at her, taking in her appearance as much as he was casting her a simper.
“Are you part of the follow-up welcoming committee?”
in all honesty, lilian’s hoping to take the drachma back — it was supposed to be more of a prop than a genuine offering, but she decides to let leo keep it in a show of good faith. she watches instead with curiosity as he rolls it around his fingers. hyperactive. a trait many half-bloods share, but that she herself doesn’t possess. leo’s teasing does win him some points with her; despite her overly formal tone, she seems almost allergic to serious discussions, evidenced by how she laughs darkly in response to his ribbing. “my apologies, i don’t exactly have a trust fund to give your thoughts the monetary support they deserve.”
with that, though, lilian seems to settle a bit, idly running a gloved finger up the stem of a strawberry runner. “if there was an official welcoming committee, i doubt i’d be on it. i’m more of a ghost, a passive observer. a stargazer, if you will. i don’t exactly suit the office. but i gather you’ve already been shown around and bewildered by us veterans. am i wrong?”