Jason lay helpless down on the ground, yet content with his decision. His pool of blood soaked the light waters beneath him, not like he could see it anyways. All he could hear was your sobs and a few other faint voices.

He’d lost his glasses during, leaving his vision all foggy and blurred from long distance — like he’d be reaching out to something that wasn’t there, the desperation seeping beneath his fingertips.

“its okay.” he weakly croaked out, embracing the drop of blood that trickled down the crevice of his bottom lip. “I’m okay.” he continued, his voice raspy in pain, desperate to assure you despite his condition. He wishes he could’ve seen you before he ended, wipe the tears from your cheeks with actual accuracy instead of a blurred vision. ‏‏‎ ‎ his weapon lay unattended at his side, useless after the events of now. Part of him wished to be preserved like his sister thalia, but he knew deep down those prayers would never be answered. He just didn’t want you to cry over him, he couldn’t stand to hear you crying.