/ sailor song by gigi perez + wlw /

hazel didn’t understand this unspeakable feeling, nor did she like it.

since hazel was technically born into around the 1920’s, anybody who dated the same sex was shunned and discriminated. it was always a woman and a man or a girl and a boy. it would never be a girl and a girl or boy and boy.

she didn’t even think about dating a girl—not even once.

so when she met you when the argo ii came to camp jupiter, she was confused. she felt a stirring bundle of emotions and thoughts, which caused her brain to almost explode from the stress and overstimulation of her thoughts.

you were so pretty—with your eyes that reflected the moonlight, and your skin that gleaned so easily in the sun. and your hair—gosh, she had never felt this way about a girl!

you and hazel are in the infirmary of the argo ii, restocking the necessary items needed when somebody gets injured. wooden cabinets open and close, the sound of bundles of bandages and plastic bags filled with ambrosia being placed on shelves reverberate off of the walls.

hazel seems distracted—almost as if she’s completely absorbed in and drowning in the sea of her endless, eternal thoughts that her brain manages to conjure up.

the silence in the room is practically deafening, the tension so sharp it could be cut with a knife. why does it feel so awkward and intense?

“are you okay? you seem distracted,” you comment as you close a cabinet after putting up a rather large stock of clean blankets.

you glance over at hazel, who was stocking a open shelf with boxes of gloves and surgical masks. her brown coily, 4c hair was slicked back into a a bun—with two braids along her scalp leading up to it. her darker complexion was highlighted by the lights in the room. her golden eyes looked at the shelves that she was stocking, trailing over them and trying to avoid your eyes. you waited patiently for her to answer.