tick, tock, tick, tock
tick, tock, tick, tock hear the seconds ticking on by
drip, drop, drip, drop
drip, drop, drip, drop hear the water dripping from high
thalia grace, broken, alone, kneeling in the rain.
thalia grace, not noticing the dryness in her eyes, the cold-not-hot wetness on her cheeks.
thalia grace, not being able to cry anymore, tears dry, eyes dry but hot with emotion.
thalia grace, alone and cold and shivering.
thalia grace, immortal.
immortal but alone, skilled but cold, smiling yet broken.
and she would go on. because immortals did not stop. they kept on ticking. they kept on going.
thalia grace did not want to keep on going.
every memory she had was a drop of rain against her stone heart, dripping away at her until the cold stone that she was made of cracked.
it kept on pattering away, dripping, dropping, dripping, dropping, ignoring how the seconds ticked by.
thalia grace had lost. to the fates, to the gods, to herself. to the memories that could not be erased.
thalia grace had won a war. but lost herself in the process.
thalia grace was still here, breathing, alive, but empty. alone.
alone because she was immortal.
she wanted to join them in the white light of elysium, but she knew that what would make her happy was asphodel.
to erase the memories of him, probably in the fields of punishment, he didn't deserve it.
he had been the hero in the end.
thalia grace held herself that cold, rainy night, because no one was left to hold her.
the seconds had ticked by too fast to count. the rain had been too strong for her to stop.