Heroes & Thieves
POSTED ON Aug 28, 2013 15:30:24 GMT -8
Post by Kevin Aunor on Aug 28, 2013 15:30:24 GMT -8
Kevin sat quietly at his table and pushed some of his food around his plate with a fork. He didn’t have any siblings – at least that he was aware of – at the camp, so around dinner time, he sat alone. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t sit at other tables, even when he had been at camp for almost a year now. What was so wrong about sitting at another table? He didn’t complain, though, because it wasn’t like he completely minded sitting alone.
He always had a book with him and even as he was eating, it was set by his plate so he could easily grab it and turn to the page he was currently reading. His book was his company, the characters his companions. He had a few friends, but it wasn’t as if he spent every waking moment with them. He hung out with them when they wanted him to. He never wanted to be a bother. He didn’t want to be that friend that nobody liked.
The fifteen-year-old propped his elbow up on the table and pushed his plate away. He rested his cheek into his hand and opened up his book. It was a classic novel – Night – about the Holocaust. The author was one of his mother’s favorites, which was why he had the book in the first place. Already there had been scenes that brought tears to his eyes. It wasn’t the longest book, thin with a dark blue cover, but he already loved it.
He lifted his head and moved his hand up to run his fingers through his hair as he read, already halfway through the book that he had only started that morning. He had a lot of spare time. It wasn’t as if the camp needed him for much. Anything he could do, Nico de Angelo could do and do it far better. Thanatos wasn’t exactly the first name that popped into fellow campers’ heads when they thought about death and the Underworld. He had learned that quickly.
That was why his cabin was barely decorated. Why did he need to bring attention to it when nobody really seemed to care much about Thanatos and his children – or child? And he didn’t have any siblings currently at the camp to help decorate. So the building remained looking like any ordinary cabin. He had no desire to make it look special and he certainly didn’t have anyone to help.
There was a sound, a voice close by him and he looked up. It took a decent amount of force to pull his eyes away from the book and look to see who the voice belonged to. But what else was to be expected? He was the quiet little bookworm, after all.
He always had a book with him and even as he was eating, it was set by his plate so he could easily grab it and turn to the page he was currently reading. His book was his company, the characters his companions. He had a few friends, but it wasn’t as if he spent every waking moment with them. He hung out with them when they wanted him to. He never wanted to be a bother. He didn’t want to be that friend that nobody liked.
The fifteen-year-old propped his elbow up on the table and pushed his plate away. He rested his cheek into his hand and opened up his book. It was a classic novel – Night – about the Holocaust. The author was one of his mother’s favorites, which was why he had the book in the first place. Already there had been scenes that brought tears to his eyes. It wasn’t the longest book, thin with a dark blue cover, but he already loved it.
He lifted his head and moved his hand up to run his fingers through his hair as he read, already halfway through the book that he had only started that morning. He had a lot of spare time. It wasn’t as if the camp needed him for much. Anything he could do, Nico de Angelo could do and do it far better. Thanatos wasn’t exactly the first name that popped into fellow campers’ heads when they thought about death and the Underworld. He had learned that quickly.
That was why his cabin was barely decorated. Why did he need to bring attention to it when nobody really seemed to care much about Thanatos and his children – or child? And he didn’t have any siblings currently at the camp to help decorate. So the building remained looking like any ordinary cabin. He had no desire to make it look special and he certainly didn’t have anyone to help.
There was a sound, a voice close by him and he looked up. It took a decent amount of force to pull his eyes away from the book and look to see who the voice belonged to. But what else was to be expected? He was the quiet little bookworm, after all.
WORDS:; 461
OUTFIT:; Here
TAGGED:; @travis, Connor Stoll (tagged Connor in case Mandi wants to throw him in :3)
NOTES:; I actually had to read that book sophomore year of high school xP I balled like a baby during some scenes ;~;