wanded (wanded) wrote in afic, @ 2011-05-07 13:10:00 |
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Guilt was hard to describe, it was an overwhelming sense that she could not seem to handle. It was drowning, the way it would come over a person allowing them to think of nothing else. Hestia knew she had no right to even try and seek forgiveness; she had drunkenly shagged one of her best mates and then just...left; as if it were no more than a one-night stand. In some cases it probably had been, in others, she had not meant to make it so curt and cruel. She had been so angry at Terence that getting a drink, even so early in the morning, seemed the best plan of action. Truthfully she had only meant to step out and be back by that evening, how she ended up in Bulgaria nearly married to some Vultures player was anybody's guess. It was a miracle that at least one of her mates was willing to forgo hating her completely. Percy really was a saint by some standards, and this one was multiplicate true. And though he had not wanted anything, she felt the need to at least bring something back. Not that forgiveness could be bought, Hestia realized that, but she felt like at least it would be a semi-peace offering. Which was how she found herself standing in front of his newly acquired door, looking a bit worse for wear (she really did need a hot shower) and even more apologetic with a bottle of vodka under her arm. |