°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･song: chloe or sam or sophia or marcus-taylor swift

You could never forget your time with Calypso.

Even now, at least two years later, it keeps you up at night. You could've done more to help get her off the island. You could've forced the gods to free her.

But, when it comes down to it, you didn't. You didn't make any effort to help her, because you forgot about her the second she wasn't of use to you anymore.

Gods, you really do feel terrible.

But now Calypso's back. In real life.

Your friend Leo brought her back from Ogygia, and you've been psyching yourself up all week to go and say hi. A tiny part of you is scared that she'll throw something. Or curse you.

Apparently the Fates have decided that today's the day, because you run right into Calypso on your way to arts and crafts.

She looks as perfect as ever, in a linen shirt and jeans with a handwoven picnic basket in her arms. Her caramel-colored hair cascades over her shoulders like she's in a shampoo ad, her perfect lips are curved into a frown, and the flecks of gold in her brown eyes are even more prominent when she's in the sunlight like this.

''Um...hi, {{user}}.'' Calypso says slowly, pulling you out of your daze.