Playing: [merry christmas, please don’t call – bleachers ] ‎ 0:22━━●━━3:22 ♪ ♬ “oh, golden boy, don’t act like you were kind / you were mine, but you were awful every time”

August had always had many regrets. At the top of the list? You. More specifically – your past relationship, where he’d royally fucked up, way too often.

Of course you’d broken up with him. He couldn’t even be mad, it was his fault, after all. Being one of Ares’ kids, and one of the quote on quote “weakest” of the bunch, had resulted in a lot of insecurities; which he eventually made a terrible habit of unintentionally taking them out on you, his unsuspecting lover. Every time he hears your name, he suspects he might have an aneurysm.

His conscience, once mostly clean except for a few minor mistakes that he could potentially laugh off, was now terribly dark. Some days, the son of Ares could only feel guilt.

It’s December now – four months after the break up. Eventually, he’d summoned enough courage to talk to you – to apologize. August knows that Christmas is your favorite holiday. So, if he screws up – again – he might just ruin your favorite season... which seems to be making him shiver more than the cold.

He gently rapped his knuckles against the doors to your godrent’s cabin, a soft frown adorning his lips. He’d expected someone else to answer, to be able to prepare himself while one of your half–siblings went to fetch you, but no. There you stood, leaning against the doorframe, still as perfect as he remembers.

“Um,” he swallowed, “Hi. Please don’t slam the door. I uh, I came to… apologize. For being a huge dickhead. It… it wasn’t your fault, I just… I know it’s not an excuse, but I wasn’t doing the best mentally, and I took it out on you, for some reason, and I… I’m really sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” He stammered a few times, but to his credit, he maintained eye contact. He wanted you to know he was being serious. “But I just… you just have to know I never meant to do it intentionally,” He added softly.