stop and stare [private]

Jonathan chuckled. "Looks can be deceiving." They truly were. Ever heard of the phrase 'small but terrible?' Not that Robin was terrible. But yeah, she was definitely a handful. "You know what they say: big things come in small packages."

What's with me blurting out sayings all of a sudden? Not that it mattered much. Ronnie just did a little curtsy and took his hand, and that was all that mattered.

He led her to the dance floor as the song started to play. Honestly, for a son of Aphrodite, he sure as hell didn't dance a lot. He never had much experience with balls and proms or the sort. Always the shy guy. No wonder he felt awkward. He was pretty sure that he had two left feet.

Jonathan just sort of swayed with the slow tempo, not wanting to try anything too drastic (or anything that would cause him to step on someone's -coughRonniecough- foot). He held Ronnie's hand with one of his, while the other rested on her waist (another thing he was kinda awkward about because physical contact with Ronnie holy crap). He avoided looking at her face (oh gods how can he feel this awkward and kinda excited at the same time), but he didn't let the moments pass without saying anything. "I'm sorry for last time. My room looked like a bomb zone." He managed a light smile. "I'm not usually that messy, I swear. But after the zombies came" - he cleared his throat - "well, I wasn't exactly too keen on cleaning up their mess. Sorry."

A laugh slipped past Jonathan's lips, even if he felt it inappropriate to laugh at the fate of the Apollo cabin. "Same with ours. Everything ransacked. It's a miracle how anything actually survived."

They were at the middle of the song, which kind of brought Jonathan down. Only a minute-and-a-half left. He wanted this dance to last longer. The awkwardness was falling apart now that they were having a fair shot at a normal conversation, and he actually found himself happy and excited -- two emotions he hadn't really felt in a while.

It occurred to him then to continue what had been interrupted in the Apollo cabin, when his nose was smashed and Ronnie ushered him to the infirmary. This was, after all, the perfect scene. A slow dance in Christmas eve? What more could he ask for?

The thought of it caused a cold feeling of dread to stir up in his chest, even when he hadn't done anything yet. What if he met rejection? What if he got the whole secret out, (funny how he was still using his word to describe it, everyone had already figured it out -- well, maybe not everyone, but the list certainly included Iris and Robin) only to get shot down by the daughter of Apollo? Then everything would feel awkward again...

It was not a good thought to have in the middle of a dance, and it did enough to let paranoia set in.

Jonathan decided then. He wasn't going to tell her. He valued their friendship, at least, and he won't let anything break that relationship, even if he wanted something more. It sounded like a pretty good decision, until Ronnie looked up at him.

He felt a familiar tug in his gut the moment their eyes met, and Jonathan stopped swaying to the music.

He knew this feeling too well. It was an ability he always had, and now it was betraying him.

Ronnie was in love.

"Hey Jonathan?" Ronnie said with the slightest hint of uncertainty. "I think I may have something to tell you."

Jonathan stilled. His heart had just dropped to the floor and sank to the center of the earth, and there was no hope of getting it back. She didn't need to tell him; he already knew. She was in love. He was too late. She already loved someone else, because he was too goddamn slow.

He let go of her, his hands clenching into fists by his sides. His lips mashed into an unnatural smile. "That's... that's good, Ronnie. I'm glad you found someone," he said, forgetting that she hadn't even said anything yet, because he believed that her eyes already told the whole story.

He couldn't stay here, not when he could almost hear something break inside him, and he found that he couldn't really control himself anymore.

You could only get heartbroken so many times, after all.

"I think... I need a break. Thanks for the dance."

He couldn't stop himself. He walked out of the hall and into the cold, not caring if the winter air clawed at his skin, not caring if he had just left the girl he loved in the middle of the dance. He couldn't bear it anymore.

With heavy breaths he trudged his way towards the Aphrodite cabin. He needed time to be alone.

Jonathan was freezing when he entered the empty cabin. Gods, he should never underestimate the wrath of old man winter. Still shivering, Jonathan strode across the hall straight through his room. His siblings were all at the dance, he knew. Christmas dances, or just dances in general, attracted Aphrodite kids like a magnet. He was glad for that. He didn't have to try hard to pretend.

The door banged shut behind him and he stood with his eyes on the floor, his glassy stare becoming cold and hard.

The fact that he had basically walked out on a girl -- on Ronnie of all people -- stung hard and fast and he instantly regretted it. He left her confused, and quite possibly hurt. If his adoptive mother found out what he had done, she would never let him hear the end of it.

All his plans for maintaining their friendship just went down the drain. After that little stunt he pulled? Well, high chance that Ronnie wouldn't even give him the light of day.

He was stupid. He, Jonathan Adams, was the very epitome of an idiot. He ought to go back there and apologize.

But his feet were rooted to the floor. He couldn't. He was a coward. He didn't know which he was more afraid of -- Ronnie rejecting his apology or looking into her eyes again and sensing the very thing he wished he didn't know.

"Coward!" He wrenched his gaze from the floor and to the nearest mirror, seeing his wet and shaking form glaring back. "You coward!"

A strangled sob forced its way out of his throat, but he fought back the tears. It was all coming out in force -- his father's death, the zombies, his siblings' deaths, Ronnie... everything was being molded into a huge ball of sadness raring to burst out of his chest. He trembled from the effort of keeping it in, putting his face in his hands as he dropped to a seat on his bed.

He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't.

His breaths came in quick as he forced an emotionless mask, bottling it all up again, like he always had.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan spotted a rocket figurine on his table, a piece of paper stuck under it. A faint memory occurred to him, a vision of Ronnie visiting his room, how he inconspicuously tucked the paper under the rocket so that she wouldn't notice... His hand moved robotically when it gently pulled the paper out, and Jonathan stared at it with blank eyes.

It was a sketch. A sketch he asked an artistically-inclined friend to draw for him from way back. There on the paper, drawn in careful penciled lines, was Veronica Lyric's face.

She was smiling here. Jonathan didn't know if his friend traced it from a picture or drew her just by looking from afar, but that didn't matter. She was happy here, she was happy now, and everything just boiled down to the same thing, didn't it? He wanted to make her happy. Now she was, just not with him.

Try as he might, he couldn't turn that into a happy thought. It had been bottled up for so long that it took hold like a parasite, a poison that got worse the more he hung on.

Soft knocks soon filled the delicate silence, and Jonathan looked up at the sound of Ronnie's voice. Wait, she followed him here? But it was so cold outside!

Throwing the sketch to the floor, Jonathan ran to open his room door, his eyes widening at the sight of the damp Ronnie in her dress and heels, having just walked through snow to get here. He remembered how cold it had been, how he still shivered randomly now as his body tried to shake the cold off, and Jonathan forgot about his worries for a second.

"Ronnie! Are you cold? It was freezing out there!" he said, horrified. His mind in a rush, he went to wrench his closet door open, grabbing his old leather coat. It was his favorite, even if it was all worn-down, but he didn't think much of that as he draped it over the daughter of Apollo.

It didn't matter if a few seconds ago, he just went through a rough time. Jonathan didn't want her to be cold, and he would do anything in his power not to make her feel cold.

His forehead lined with anxiety, he stepped back.

It was sinking in. Ronnie actually followed him here.

But why?

"Ronnie, I..." The air around him seemed to have turned solid, pushing the words back down his throat, but he persevered. "I'm sorry. For leaving you there. It was so stupid of me, and I swear it won't happen again."

It certainly looked like he was apologizing to the floor. He didn't dare look at her eyes again. He didn't need to be reminded, and it didn't need to be painful.

Jonathan was hardly thinking about it when he put his jacket on Ronnie, even as she tried to move away. He didn't care if she was angry enough not to let him do anything to her again. He sure as hell wasn't letting her get hypothermia just because of that. Thank the gods that she did let him though. She even smiled and said 'thank you.'

Maybe it was the last 'thank you' he would ever hear from her. He wouldn't be surprised, considering what he had done.

Jonathan watched her come in (more like he watched her feet come in, no way was he going to look up) and he half-expected her to shout at him. He half-expected her to hurl words as she would throwing knives... but he was wrong.

"You don't need to be sorry..." Those were the first words she uttered, and Jonathan suddenly found hope surging through his veins. Of course, he didn't believe her. He had to be sorry. It was his fault that he left her in the mess hall, his fault that she went through the snow just to follow him. If she caught as much as a cold, he would blame himself. But what struck him was that she didn't begin with anger. An angry person didn't start by saying things like that.

The next words were more or less something he expected, but he still winced. He left her alone in there without any explanation. Jonathan shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to look down, feeling the guilt eat away at his conscience.

But what came next took him aback, more so than Ronnie's first words, and for the briefest second he let his confused eyes flicker up at her.

Assumption?

She didn't really know about his ability. He had never gotten around to telling her. Ronnie didn't know that with a simple look into someone's eyes, Jonathan could sense if that person is in love. It was an Aphrodite thing, and he mostly kept that fact about himself under wraps.

But before he could say anything, he noticed how Ronnie's face changed, his eyes staring at something else, and he knew that something distracted her. As he followed her gaze though, his heart raced. He started to move towards her, his arm raised as if to take the paper.

"Hey, wait -"

She had already bent down to pick it up before he could dissuade her, and Jonathan's cheeks flamed when Ronnie finally saw the sketch.

Well... now she knows.

"No," Jonathan admitted, suddenly developing an interest in his table. He reached up to mess his hair up, just a nervous habit, and continued without looking over. "Cole Notte drew it. I... I asked her to."

If he was still cold from his short excursion before, Jonathan didn't let on. He continued to stare at his rocket, running his fingers down its smooth surface. He ended up placing it in his hand altogether, throwing it from one hand to another like a juggling ball. It was an excuse to avoid looking at Ronnie. He was red enough as it was. His body was half-turned so that he was facing his table, seemingly busy with his toy.

"It was a long time ago. I didn't have a picture of you, and I didn't want to be a creepy stalker who just takes a random picture without you knowing... Come to think of it, the drawing would pretty much imply the same thing." He smiled at the rocket. "You can have it if you want."

This wasn't how she was supposed to know. Jonathan should have told her face-to-face. He shouldn't have let her find that drawing and come to her own conclusion.

Well, he shouldn't be surprised. It wasn't as if the Fates wanted him to win in this anyway.

"Mhm, she's a daughter of Nyx. Great artist," he said. Jonathan shrugged when she returned the paper to his table, even if every organ in his body seemed to have breathed a relieved sigh when she didn't take it for herself. Ronnie didn't seem mad, not that he could really tell; he was still transfixed on his little toy.

His eyebrows rose when she spoke. "You didn't offend me." Jonathan finally put the rocket down and turned so that he was half-leaning on his table. It looked like he was looking at Ronnie's face now, but in reality he was staring at a point behind her, avoiding eye contact. His lips twitched into a half-smile. "I just have this 'power.' It's not much. How it works is... basically, I can tell whether someone is in love by looking into their eyes. It's not something I can control. I just kind of get a tug in my gut."

It had been a long time since he last told anyone this, and Jonathan wondered if he explained it enough. He reached up to mess his hair again.

"Now, what was it you're gonna tell me?"

He spoke in a somewhat resigned tone, like he had given up. It wasn't like things could get worse, right?

This time, after what felt like an eternity, Jonathan finally met Ronnie's gaze. What is she -

Her words echoed in his head like a mantra. 'I'm not in love with someone else, Athan...' It took a few repetitions for it to sink in, and Jonathan's eyes lit up like fireworks on New Year's Eve. Hope, once lost, came rushing back. His heart, previously broken, started to mend.

But a part of him -- the most pessimistic voice in his head -- held him back. What if he just heard wrong? What if he was jumping into his own different conclusion? A car speeding on a racetrack, that's what he felt like, and if he was being too careless he would crash and burn. That was why he always tried to set his expectations low. He didn't want to disappoint himself or anyone, he didn't want his hopes crushed in the end.

It was quite the challenge, juggling uncertainty and excitement around, and Jonathan suddenly found himself clutching the table edge with a white-knuckled grip.

"You mean... me?"

He spoke softly, as if he didn't want to be heard lest be corrected, yet it was easy to hear the hope lacing his voice.

This was the worst time to be incredibly slow. Jonathan stared at Ronnie, uncomprehending, unable to believe that this was really happening. She meant him. She meant him!

He couldn't quite understand why Ronnie seemed lonely, or why she was turning to leave. His own emotions were only just catching up with him, waves of it engulfing him, each stronger than the last, and Jonathan could feel a pleasant tingling sensation shoot up from his toes up to his raging chest.

She said it. She really did. Gods, I'm really not hallucinating, am I? But why is she leaving, why am I just standing here like an idiot I must stop her right now and tell her -

The loud beep shattered the silence and his thoughts. His alarm. It was his stupid broken alarm clock that always woke him up in the middle of the night, the one he always forgot to bring to a Hephaestus kid for fixing. But now his clock was reminding him that it was midnight: it was Christmas.

Ronnie spoke before he could react. "Oh screw it. If I have to go now, after waiting so long." Their eyes met. "Then I'm not going without doing this."

Before he knew it, he felt her arms around his neck and her lips on his.

Jonathan couldn't remember the last time he had ever kissed anyone, it was already so long ago. Had he known this moment would come, he would've fretted awkwardly in anticipation. But not even having a second's notice, Jonathan just did the first thing that occurred to him.

He kissed her back.

And when they broke apart, he looked into her eyes, felt that tug in his gut, and smiled the biggest smile.

"I love you too."

Was it just Jonathan, or did the whole world just change? Everything was brighter now, happier, much more beautiful. He heard pealing bells in the distance as he looked at Ronnie smile, and he didn't know if it was some camp thing announcing Christmas or if it was just in his head. A soft pleasant melody also filled his ears, matched by the thrumming beat of his own heart.

So it is true, what they said about bells and butterflies...

He was still smiling when Ronnie asked what they should do, and the most wonderful idea popped into his head.

"You know, we never got to finish our dance."

He bowed. Offered his hand.

But what about the music? That was no problem, as Jonathan opened his lips to sing.

"Stop and stare. I think I'm moving but I'm here not there..."