Smooth Criminal [Riley]

[Annabeth Chase]

Annabeth found a spot at the Athena table out of habit in the otherwise empty dining pavilion and sat down, leaning back against the side of the table. The dining pavilion in between meals was a great place for thinking or reading or anything of the sort. Sometimes she’d bring her architectural sketches here for a change of scenery from the Athena cabin too. Today it was a copy of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. She ran her fingers along the corners of the brand new book. One day old, or at least one day in her possession, it was her birthday present to herself, since yesterday had been her 18th birthday. And, with her new bitterness towards Percy Jackson and uncertainty when it came to Luke Castellan – after all, hadn’t he seemed all odd last time they talked, which, need she mention, was at least three days ago! (call her paranoid, but after Percy...) – she considered it her best birthday yet. She had spent the entire day with her favorite sister, Gail, in Manhattan just walking around, going to a little sidewalk café for lunch, visiting several big stores, including a huge Barnes & Noble in which they spent at least two and a half hours. Top it off with some ice cream and it was the perfect birthday.

And what with the fact that her life, as she saw it, was in constant conflict with itself, a sane day with her sister had been sorely needed. Gail was down to earth and understanding, and there was the added benefit that they shared the same inherited interests. Sadly, Gail was busy today. So, since it was still the weekend, she decided to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather, not that it was ever anything else at this Camp, and read outside. She tucked a loose strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear and carefully opened the book and turned to the first page. She could already tell this was going to be an interesting challenge. Jules Verne had a very formal style and, considering this was published in the 1800s and she had gotten as literal a translation as she could find, the wording was going to be unusual too. Her dyslexia was already kicking in, but since she was planning on going to college next year, the fact of the matter remained that she would be having to do a lot more reading in English.

Besides, she wasn’t about to let the fact that this was slowly starting to make her head spin stop her. It was a Verne! And from what she knew of this story in particular, it was a must-read. Well, that and it was the only Verne she hadn’t yet read. They were all so wonderful! Especially for demi-gods, as it was adventure she at least knew she could pause any time she wanted and it wouldn’t threaten to cause her any personal emotional or physical damage. That was sort of a big deal for a demi-god, after all, as most ‘adventures’ she’d been on had involved a significant measure of danger whether she liked it or not. Time to let someone else, someone not even real, play the hero for a change.

Word Count: 543
Tag: Riley
Song: Sink or Swim by Tyron Wells and Smooth Criminal bu 2Cellos, the latter because it came on my media player and I can never turn that off...

[Riley O'Shea]

Camp Half-Blood was a rather curious place in Riley's opinion. Though he'd yet to decide whether that was a good thing or not. He had a cabin to himself, seeing as there were no other children of Eros. Which was a plus, but also a con. He wasn't used to the quiet of living alone when all he'd ever known was the constant noise of his brothers' voices. It was odd and lonely, yet still a little refreshing, he'd admit. Not too lonely though, what with all the kids running around. Though more often then not he had at least a three to five year age difference with them so he couldn't really decide whether they were worth socializing with or not (it didn't help that the first one he'd tried to talk to had been about as pleasant as the Lemonheads he was snacking on). Especially since they grew up here as opposed to Ireland so he had a bit of trouble adjusting to their 'That's 70s Show' references and their nonsensical sayings.

Not to mention, he was lost constantly. He had never been favorable to maps, which looked more like a bunch of random shapes and lines then actually destinations and roads. So even in such a small as place as this, he kept finding that he ended up on the opposite end of the camp from where he had actually intended on being. It didn't help though that he insisted on going to visit Manhattan every other night instead of learning the routine that everyone else followed. But where was their sense of adventure? Lost, or dead, most likely. Though in their defense they'd probably seen Manhattan numerous times unlike him. And they'd probably had those Ihop pancakes too many times to count. Not that he could see why since they tasted like chewy cardboard with a decorative sprig of mint.

Popping another Lemonhead in his mouth, he grimaced at the taste as he finally came across what he deemed to be the right place. Looked semi-unsanitary? Check. Cafeteria-esque feel? Double check. The assigned seating felt a little militaristic, more like you were forced to sit with people that you loathed, but it felt a lot more like his old school (so that was at least somewhat comforting). Pretty girls, included, he noted. Well, girl-singular-though he supposed that was because he was late for lunch. Or dinner. ...Or 'linner' as he'd heard them call it (which personally he didn't think sounded very appetizing).

Skirting around the uniform tables, Riley took a seat opposite the only other person around. Or the aforementioned pretty girl as he referred to her, for lack of a better name. "Pardon me, love, but would you mind helping a poor Irishman out?" He asked, placing two fingers on the top of her book and pushing it down gently so he could properly see her face. "Nice book choice by the way, though I prefer the cliched choice, the Iliad." He paused, glancing down briefly at her book before refocusing his attention. "Anyhow, I've only been here about a week, and it would seem I still don't know the official dinner time. Considering I've finally decided to actually eat here for the night, you could see the problem that poses." Riley grinned, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

tag ;; annabeth
word count ;; 569
notes ;; o.o be intimidated by the Irishness

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[Annabeth Chase]

Annabeth was starting to get into the story already. Tales of monsters and mystery events, impossible creatures or government conspiracies, whichever the case may be. She allowed herself to get lost in the world Verne was creating, of world-side panic as well as uncertainty and even mocking. But that was something regular mortals did best. Give them something they didn’t understand and they usually freaked out. Then again, she knew already that this was no monster. Maybe she had an unfair advantage going into it, already knowing the story outline of the book, but it was still a good read. It made her wonder what it must have been like for those reading the original though, with no idea what the next page would hold in store for them. How exciting. That was possibly only something a child of Athena or a plain nerd would say, but she was perfectly fine with admitting it. After all, who around here didn’t know the reputation of the Athena cabin already? So big surprise.

She was so wrapped up in her book that she didn’t notice someone walking up and sitting across from her until they spoke, and especially when they pulled the book down. And she was faced with an older, rather not that bad-looking boy with a heavy accent instead of the empty benches that had been there before. His question addressed the accent part at least. So he was from Ireland? That was unusual. Well, anyone not from the States period was unusual. She slide the receipt, which actually made a really nice bookmark, into the book and closed it, resting it on her lap. “Yeah, sure.” She glanced down at her book when he mentioned it and shrugged a little. “The Iliad is a pretty good story too, I have to say, but I thought I’d try something different.” She would have gone into more detail on her book choice, which was not something all that uncommon for her to do, but decided for a change to spare him. If he was anyone else that she knew, and was on decent terms with, she would not have hesitated to go into the pros and cons of both Homer and Jules Verne and their respective works. Architecture, battle strategy, and general facts about a lot of different things; those were three areas she was fairly certain she stood a fighting chance of being much more well versed than anyone outside her own cabin.

His real question though, now that was what caught her off guard. “Wait… you mean to tell me you’ve been here a week and no one’s helped you out with that? What about, like, a camp tour or just getting used to the camp in general? Anything?” She used to be one of the people Chiron got to do these sorts of things, had even been the one to show Percy the ropes when he arrived, but with all the newly-claimed demi-gods pouring in over the last two years, more people started taking up the job as well and it was getting easy, she guessed, to forget people here and there. That didn’t make it excusable though. “Anyway, dinner is from 6 to 7. Lunch, 12:30 to 1:30 and breakfast 8 to 9. I should warn you though, at dinner, you’re expected to take a small bit of your food and place it in the fire over there,” she pointed to the now empty and fire-less brazier, “as an offering to your immortal parent. That catches a lot of people off their first time. Out of curiosity, if this is the first time you’ve had dinner here… what have you been doing for evening meals?” She set her book on the bench beside her and held out her hand to shake his. “I’m Annabeth Chase, by the way. I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

Word Count: 650
Tag: Riley
Note: Quite intimidating, lol

[Riley O'Shea]

"Sorry to, ah, interrupt your reading, by the way." He shot her a small, apologetic smile as she peered at him over her lowered book. He'd heard that these Athena kids didn't like being interrupted while reading which was understandable, but he'd been too tempted not to pester her. Not only was he nearly 100% lost around this camp, but he found that he was drawn to clever, pretty girls. Note the word clever included, because he'd already been bothered by one or two Aphrodite daughters, and while he'd been polite, he found that they had paper thin personalities. Though one had been rather friendly, but he still doubted she was bright enough to attempt reading either the Iliad or the other girl's book choice.

"Understandable, I'm glad your idea of different isn't what is it...Moonlight?" He guessed, though the word sounded wrong as soon as it slipped off his tongue. Shaking his head to himself, he bit his bottom lip, but the name wouldn't come to him. Probably because he never saw the appeal of the book. "The..the one with those sparkly gits?" He prompted, tapping his teeth too to assist him in describing the character. Though his description was about as helpful as a really poor game of charades. Ah well, the title of the book was rather irrelevant, it just bothered him when the word was on the tip of his tongue, but he still couldn't catch it.

Shrugging, Riley looked nearly as shocked as the girl as she suggested that someone should be giving him a tour of sorts. "I was unaware that someone was supposed to be the Willy Wonka to my Charlie in the Chocolate Factory." He grinned, seeing as he had felt a little like he'd won the golden ticket when he'd arrived at the camp. "And no, not really...someone showed me how to find my cabin, but I think that was it?" He hardly seemed concerned about it though as he propped his head up on his elbows. "Oh, breakfast. Excellent, I've been living off water and these interesting Sour Patch Kids for days now-not actually children as I'm sure you're aware. Then again I probably sleep in to late, and that's why I miss it." He admitted with a small smile. 

Furrowing his brow, Riley looked slightly off put. "Another question, love. If I have a grandparent on my mum's side that's also a god, then my father was a god...do I give both an offering or just the direct relation?" He wasn't sure if he was comfortable offering either of them anything, but he supposed they'd never really done anything bad to him. They simply hadn't thought of him at all, which was perfectly fine to him. The lack of a father figure of any type hadn't affected how he grew up. If anything, he couldn't possibly picture having Eros involved in his life as a kid. It just would have messed everything up.

"Annabeth, pretty name." He commented , not quietly but also not loud enough to be directed at her. "Pleasure to meet you." Gently taking her hand and turning it a little, he kissed it lightly before smiling amiably at her. "Riley O'Shea, at your service."

tag ;; Annabeth
word count ;; 567

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[Annabeth Chase]

Annabeth shrugged slightly as she looked at him over the top of her book. “That’s quite alright. I hadn’t gotten very far anyway.” Had she been further in the book at the time he spoke up, say when it started picking up and the likelihood of being in the middle of a pivotal part was much higher. But she was still fighting through the introduction. And fighting was definitely a good word for it. She had known going in that this book was not going to be a simple read, but it was proving itself to be a very, very challenging read. All the words made sense and it was easy enough to follow once her brain settled down and the words stopped changing up. It was always the more unusual words, like those that Verne tended to favor, that were trickiest for her.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Moonlight?” Though when he mentioned sparkly gits, it rung a bell. After all, wasn’t that something of a joke? “Oh, Twilight? Gods, no. I only try to read things with actual content. From what I’ve heard of that book, it’s only really about a girl whining incessantly.” Though she wasn’t really sure what tapping his teeth honestly had to do with that book. Then again, she’d never paid it much attention, let alone read it, so maybe there was something she was missing. Oh, vampires, that was probably it. Teeth… right.

Willy Wonka and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Well, those were things she hadn’t heard about in a while, or at least not since the latest movie remake. “I guess if you want to call it that.” She shouldn’t help but notice his smile. It was one of those types of smiles that made it hard not to smile in return. “Well, I’d be more than happy to help.” But his comment about breakfast made her pause. “Wait… you’re not serious, are you? Not about the kids thing, I mean about not eating? Why didn’t you ask someone sooner?” Or why didn’t someone help him out? She was definitely going to have to have a word with his cabin counselor once she figured out which cabin he was actually in.

Once again, she had to be pulled back from her thoughts, but his question only launched her down a whole different train of thought. “Well… hmm. I think there’s at least one other camper here in that situation, but I’m not really certain how it works. My best guess would be to your father, who I assume is also the one who claimed you?” She watched him for a moment as he seemed to go off in his own thoughts for a change. After a pause, she set her book aside and held her hand out to him, finally remembering that she had yet to introduce herself. She smiled at his compliment, and muttered a quick thanks. It was when he kissed her hand that she was really caught off guard. People still did that? Didn’t that go away with the knights and jousts and round tables and things? Not that she was complaining. She watched with renewed interest, this young man from Ireland who, at least thus far, seemed to be more a gentleman than all of camp put together. It was intriguing and, well sure she’d admit it to herself, a bit attractive. “It certainly is a pleasure, Riley…”

Word Count: 572
Tag: Riley

[Riley O'Shea]

"Well I picked the perfect time to interrupt then, didn't I?" He smiled pleasantly, looking slightly pleased with himself. Needless to say, he wouldn't have wanted to start off his first real conversation here by annoying someone. Especially not this Annabeth girl, who seemed admittedly enjoyable and friendly. And knowledgeable in the world of books. "Twilight, that's it. Though I can't say I'm disappointed in myself for not knowing the name." He shrugged, pondering over his thoughts for a moment before adding on, "Rather, I think I would have felt ashamed if I had known the name." He'd heard that associating yourself with those girly books was pretty much a knife through your dignity and reputation. Unless of course you were a twelve year old girl or that girl's 40 year old mother. 

Chuckling to himself, Riley ran a lazy hand through his hair, pushing back a few limp strands. "Good to hear, I like a girl with good taste." He nodded absentmindedly, referring to her comment about books with content. "Purely out of curiosity, your views on poetry?" He inquired, because while he was a fan of poetry, not everyone who loved books had to be. He was very particular about what poetry he would read though. His favorite poet was the well-known Edgar Allan Poe. Poe was morbid, and gloomy but Riley had always found his poems to be well written, fluent and oddly intriguing. The Raven he favored of course. And there were some other works that he enjoyed, including The Masque of the Red Death-though that was actually a story rather than a poem.

"Excellent then, I get a tour guide, and a sweet one at that." Admittedly, he could probably find his way around after just a few more days, but if she was offering than he certainly wasn't going to turn her down. "Well, I had this mini box of Cheerios one morning....yea, those were good." He added the last part more to himself than to her. "But everyone just seemed so busy, and distracted. I didn't want to be a bother. Well and whenever I finally tried to ask, some of them were rather.." He made a face, opting not to finish his sentence with the words 'pissed off'.

"And it's not like the Sour Patch Kids tasted bad." Riley smiled, a small red flush rising up in his neck. So it wasn't exactly healthy, but he still maintained that they were delectable. Those he wasn't sure he would sacrifice for Eros, but he supposed he could spare a bit of his dinner each night. And maybe on a weekly basis he could give a little to Ares. Though as he'd heard it, the god of war was an, well for lack of a better word, jackass. Not surprising. The only thing that surprised Riley about it was how his mum had never inherited Ares' personality. She seemed much too friendly...though he'd admit she had her temperamental moments. Especially after raising three boys who, naturally, broke, dirtied, and ruined everything in her home. Poor her, Riley smiled slightly to himself as he thought about how much trouble she'd had to put up with. 

"Eros. It's Eros, by the way." He pointed out, noting that look of curiosity on her face that seemed to ask who was his parent. "And I'm glad you think so." Riley smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling as he made eye contact with her.

tag ;; anna
word count ;; 595
listening to ;; what makes you beautiful by one direction

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[Annabeth Chase]

Annabeth smiled. “Yeah, five minutes more and I would have told you to take a hike. Okay, not really.” She nodded a little at his comment about Twilight, though had to add. “I should probably feel ashamed of myself then, huh? In my defense, a handful of girls at my school really like it for some reason or another so it’s all you hear about at the lockers between classes.” But only one more year of that and she would be on to college where, she hoped, things were a bit more mature and sensible. She watched him with a raised eyebrow. “A plotline is all it takes to be called good taste these days? Ah well, if you prefer things like The Iliad I imagine you do actually know what literary taste is. Fan of Shakespeare?”

She leaned back at his question and pondered it a moment. Poetry? That was something she didn’t think about too often really. “I like most types. I’d have to say the only ones I don’t are haikus and that new style, whatever they call it, that really don’t make sense and have no pattern of rhyme or rhythm. It’s nice to find ones that are more than just fluffy words too, you know? That have a real meaning. What about you?” She watched him a moment as he fell into silence. He seemed as bad as she was at that. It was good to know she wasn’t the only one.

It was weird to get so many compliments in one conversation. “I mean, I don’t doubt your ability to learn your own way around or anything, after being here a week and all, but maybe I can help with some tips and stuff.” She shook her head. “Cheerios? We do have hot breakfast available. I’m not knocking Cheerios, but…” She shrugged. “And I hope you didn’t literally mean one morning. What did you eat the other six days?” Annabeth let out a frustrated sigh. Figures people would treat him like that. Didn’t they care how new people were getting on? “I’m really sorry about that. Some people around here can be rather… hot-tempered. Heck, I could give you a list of names of people to avoid if you value your sanity. But I hope that didn’t give you too bad an impression. It really can be nice here. Once you get into the swing of things.”

So his father was Eros? Well, perhaps that explained his tendency towards flattery. And also the fact that he was rather good-looking, though she was not about to admit that to a soul. “Oh, okay. My mother is Athena.” There was that smile again. Another trait from his dad or just a natural talent? Because it was really warm and welcoming. She smiled back, without letting her eyes leave his. After a moment or two, she cleared her throat in an effort to keep the pause from getting too long. “So, you’re from Ireland? You just mentioned before is all… Do you have family here or something?”

Word Count: 510
Tag: Riley!

[Riley O'Shea]

"Oh is that so?" Riley blinked in surprise, before his lips curved in a mischievous smile. He appreciated a side of humor with knowledge and a pretty face. So as far as he was aware, Miss Chase appeared to be a trifecta. "Americans." He sighed, his voice taking on a pretend exasperated tone. Well, for the most part it was pretend (at least when directed at Annabeth). However, he had lived in Europe for his whole life and there were quite a few people who grumbled and complained about Americans. And while Riley felt no personal grudge against them, he had noticed that the ones in New York lacked a certain sense of hospitality...and manners..and well, just that overal feeling of niceness. He wasn't positive if it was just New Yorkers or if it was a good portion of Americans in generals, but he didn't much care for it.

Lockers, hm. He would have suspected her to be a tad older than high school, but perhaps that was because of her more impressive literary taste. "It would seem so, no actual talent required." He shrugged, admittedly a little disappointed in today's literature. "I don't mean to disappoint, but Shakespeare never appealed to me. I did like his use of iambic pentameter, but besides that his works were a little...." He trailed off unsurely, grasping for the right word unsuccessfully. "Well, let's look at it like this. Romeo and Juliet as my example. Love at first sight, extremely dramatic double suicide. I'd like to know in what world do those idiots live." He explained, albeit a little cynically. As a son of Eros, he wouldn't be expected to think that way about a love story, but he didn't always have to be his father's son. Especially not when he thought the love story was possibly the most idiotic thing he'd ever heard of. He didn't like harping on literary figures, but he had a rational side to him which just screamed that the story was completely illogical and unrealistic..and that the characters were moronic. "No offense intended if you enjoy the stories of course," He added apologetically.

Chuckling to himself, he could agree that light, fluffy poetry was far out of his personal taste. He could find amusement in a few of them (including Shel Silverstein's odd poems), but mostly he was looking for a little bit of substance. Or well, horrific poems too. "I would mostly have to agree, though I must admit, I have an odd taste for Poe. Not as much depth there, but he was a good writer nonetheless." He shrugged, hoping that his favor for Poe wouldn't scare her into thinking he was a serial killer.

"Tips and 'stuff' would be greatly appreciated, love. And actually, now that you mention it...they were 'honey nut' Cheerios." Riley amended, smiling a little boyishly. "And well I mostly just skipped breakfast..had dinner in the city for the most part. Don't bother yourself about it though," He added hurriedly at her disgruntled sigh, "I'm over that growing boy stage so it's alright if nutrition is lacking." He wouldn't mention that despite the fact that he was no longer really growing, he still ate like he was a whole high school football team. "And I'm sure it's lovely. I've opted to give it a few months at least before I decide whether or not I'll stick around."

Athena, well that made perfect sense. He didn't mean to stereotype, but he wouldn't expect the intelligence from many other gods. Especially since the people he had conversed with so far clearly lacked brains. "Yes ma'am, why, do you like foreigners?" The boy grinned a little flirtatiously before continuing, "No, anyhow, I'm from Dublin, actually. And actually no I don't. My family is all back home, my mum just told me about this camp when I was younger and I finally decided it and my curiosity were worth a trip here."

tag ;; anna
word count ;; 688

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[Annabeth Chase]

Annabeth was glad to see him smile; she’d been a little worried when he looked surprised there for a second. If he’d honestly thought she’d tell him to scram, then she needed to check. “Now wait a minute,” she said with a smile, which didn’t make acting offended too easy or believable. “I’m American.” She shook her head, all effort to act hurt gone. “Sad, isn’t it? There are still some good writers, but not nearly as many as there once was.” She shrugged when he said he wasn’t into Shakespeare, though had to laugh at his summary of Romeo and Juliet. “Yes, that one was a little overdramatic, but some of his work is not too bad. And no offense taken.”

She watched him as he seemed to ponder her comment on poetry for a second. “Poe? Not deep? I have to disagree there. I love his short stories. Afraid the only poem of his I really know is the stereotypical Raven, but things like Masque of Red Death and Fall of the House of Usher are great reads.” She smiled when he accepted her offer to help and shook her head when he clarified on the Cheerios bit. “That’s an important detail, that.” She frowned when he mentioned skipping breakfast, and went straight to dinner. “Didn’t you ever have lunch?” She was starting to seriously worry about this guy. Never got any help around camp, skipping two of the three meals each day. That wasn’t healthy, and how was he going to get a good impression of Camp, and of America, if no one stepped up to help him out? “Well, I hope you decide to stay. At least for summers.”

When he confirmed her question about his homeland, complete with flirting, she laughed. “Well, I don’t know. You’re only the second I’ve met. But so far, I’d say yes.” She nodded at his comment about not having family here. “Oh, so you’re probably going to be back overseas at the end of the summer. Or if you decide to go home early.” She smiled slightly. “Well, I hope it’s meeting your expectations after such a long trip to get here.”

Word Count: 363
Tag: Riley
Notes: Sorry for the delay and the shortness.

[Riley O'Shea]

"Really? I would never have guessed," Riley cocked his head to the side, his tone a little sarcastic, but with him it was really hard for his sarcasm to come across at rude. Especially in the presence of a pretty girl. And even if it did come across as a little hurtful..the irish accent softened the blow. It acted as a really fluffy, smooth....good sounding pillow. "Though if you're lacking a retort..a good one would just be 'foreigners'," He grinned goofily, because he'd received that reaction often. Though it wasn't a joke, nor said affectionately. Rather it was 'damn foreigners..stealing all our damn jobs', which he felt was rather inaccurate considering he didn't even have a job here. And he didn't see those same complainers grumbling when they were the foreigners in Europe.

Riley nodded in silent agreement with her observation. He didn't believe there were many authors left who could spin a really story, and a few of those gifted ones still wasted their time on romantic stories. Which Riley could tolerate a little, but he preferred other sorts of novels like mysteries, some horror, and some historical novels. Recently he'd been plowing through one about the assassination of that American president Kennedy. Rather intriguing actually, especially since his knowledge in American history was a little lacking. After all, in Ireland their history classes weren't centered around America. Which some people seemed to forget when he was confused at American historical references. "I think I'll just take your word on that rather than actually trying to figure it out for myself by plowing through another one of those plays."

"I'm glad you agree..Most people look at me like I'm obsessively morbid whenever I say I like Poe. Like I'm going to take a hacksaw to them or something," He trailed off, before smiling a little at her, "When clearly my weapon of choice would be a butcher knife. More force." Riley joked, tapping his fingers gently on the table out of habit (he blamed the ADHD). "Lunch..a couple times I'd say. There was this nice Chinese restaurant one night..Plenty of leftovers. There's still some mu shu pork-not like mu shu from that movie Mulan-," he clarified, "and eggrolls left..with sweet and sour sauce, they're actually rather delicious, aside from the fact that they're also a little stale. However there's no dishonor on the cow..or your family from it." He pointed out, unabashed as he rambled on pointlessly.

"Well if it seems you actually enjoy my being here, I might consider staying..at least for summers." Riley winked, a certain sparkle in his eyes like perhaps he was that flattered by the fact that it seemed like she might want him to stay. "Oh so I'm the second? Well if I may...who wins? Me or the first one? In levels of charm, intelligence, interesting qualities..." He trailed, leaving the rest of the qualities open for interpretation.

"Possibly, depends on how well I like it. And how much my mum complains about my being gone." He chuckled, not mentioning his brothers because while he could guess that they'd miss him, he knew they wouldn't admit to it. That was just the way among the O'Shea brothers.

tag ;; anna
word count ;; 567

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