You Promised. ((Privado))

The Sunday after prom wasn't a busy one and was, in fact, very boring and uneventful. Rephaim had awoke earlier than he had planned and instead and taken that time to decipher his dreams and prepare for the day. As he showered down at the bathrooms near the strawberry fields he began to interpret the images that have sewn together during his night's rest. He was falling, falling, falling down a cliff that seemed to have no bottom. When he finally landed, the impact was soft and warm and made him feel kind of dizzy and breathless. At that part of remembering his dream, he had turned off the water, dried, and got dressed. He went to breakfast, cleaned up around the funeral pyre, went to his Monster Assault Prep. class, made a paper mache sculpture in Arts&Crafts, and now he was ditching part of his Nymph Racing class to meet up with a girl he had met yesterday. Even then, the smell of "Cool Ocean Wave" body wash clung to him like his relaxed aura. The strange boy walked through the courtyard with his hands in the pockets of his dark denim shorts, his Vans marking their path towards a bench near the Apollo cabin. The courtyard was relatively empty considering very few people had their free time at this hour and were in their scheduled classes. Rephaim liked the calming quiet of the breeze from the far off beach, the slight whistling of panpipes from the forest. He sat and checked the watch on his tanned wrist. 14:57. Emma should be here in three minutes if she wasn't already. Looking around once more, Rephaim didn't see her and assumed that she was still in a lesson or somewhere else. He still didn't know much about her and was hoping that this "date" would change that. He yawned and straightened out his orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt with one hand. He hoped he looked presentable. He had ran out of gel earlier when he was getting ready for the day, so his hair looked all feathery and that type of "messy-but-messy-on-purpose" look that he loathed. On hipsters, it was bad enough. On him it looked like he was trying too hard to impress that certain someone. The worst thing was that no matter what he tried to do, it made it look even more casually messy. All he could do was wait here and hope that Emma recognized him without his Jack Skellington get-up, then hoped that she would forgive his current state.

Rephaim was somewhat startled when a supposed stranger approached him out of the blue. He was used to people coming to speak with him, but he was so lost in his own thoughts to really notice anything but his own mental babble. But the voice is what brought Rephaim back, a half smile growing on his face and revealing a dimple as he looked up to meet...those eyes. Emma. She found him. It took him another moment to understand what she had said, but he scooted over on the bench to allow her the room to sit.
"You look different without the horns." He replied in a pleased manner, referring to her Maleficent costume she was donned in last night. He studied her face again; it was for sure the same Emma that had graced him with the dances that had sneaked their way into his head no matter the time of day and replayed over and over. Just thinking about it made his heart pound, and Rephaim couldn't help but to silently chastise himself once again. His heart pounded for no one, really, even if he was extremely kind. He couldn't help it when he was around this girl, though he hoped that it was just the prom that had gotten him all out of it. No. It was a living, breathing, demigod that made his mouth dry and his heart race and his head hurt and he didn't like it one bit. Who did she think she was, causing him to feel this way? That wasn't very polite, now, was it? Rephaim was going to give her a piece of his mind.
"You're very beautiful." Wait, that wasn't right. He tried again. "Thanks for meeting with me. It means a lot."
No! He was supposed to be scolding her for making his thoughts cloudy. He was supposed to scowling at her for making his words bunched up. He was supposed to be leaving because she made his palms clammy. He was doing none of this! How do you fail at your own instructions? Then again, it's not like what he did say was a lie. He did find Emma beautiful, and he was grateful that she had decided to come. That wasn't the point, though. The point was that he couldn't feel, and Emma was making him anyway. This was why he hung around dead people.

Ugh, Rephaim felt like he was screwing this whole thing up with every word that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a babbling idiot that had no idea how to talk to a girl, even though he did so (sometimes flirted a little) on a daily with ease. What happened to the suave guy at prom? What had changed over the course of barely 24 hours? At this rate Rephaim was sure to have Emma running for the hills in no time. Hey, even if he didn't want to feel, didn't mean that didn't enjoy it...if that made sense. Well, nothing made sense at this point.
Emma had mentioned after his unexpected that he also looked good, which kind of flattered him in a way. His looks were just a plus, he guessed. Smart, relaxed, and good-looking rarely came in the same package. Rephaim of all people would know first hand. So in response he gave her a closed-mouth smile and shrugged one of his shoulders. His hands found each other and interlaced with his thumbs twiddling - a habit picked up from his mother in order to regain composure. When he looked back up at Emma, his eyebrow was cocked in a taunting manner and his smile had faded even more.
"It's that obvious? What gave it away?" He replied sarcastically to her asking of him missing her. Then his smile - yes, once again - blossomed brighter to the one similar to his Jeff the Killer one from the night before. Well, Rephaim was almost himself again. "Also, the bench is uneven with just me sitting here. It should really have another person sitting on it as well."

"Wait - no, hold on - Danggit!"
Rephaim let out a stressed and annoyed groan at the mention of his hair, failing to protect it with his hands before Emma could ruffle it. Great, now he looked even more ridiculous. His fingers combed through his hair impatiently trying to get some sort of shape back before continuing with his explanation.
"I ran out in the middle of it, okay?" Rephaim had meant for his tone to sound annoyed, but he started laughing at the end of his sentence. Now he probably resembled a Ken doll because of the excess ruffling. While he went on rambling quietly about how other people like stealing his hair stuff and whatnot, he began to think of a plan. What were they going to do? In all honesty Rephaim wasn't even sure they'd get this far. Eventually he shut up long enough to answer her question.
"Well, that is up to whatever you'd prefer, Miss Maleficent." The boy relaxed against the bench a bit, propping up his elbow along the back of it. "We could sit here and chat, we could wander around. Your choice."

"Oh, Emma, how you flatter me." Rephaim replied sarcastically. Emma had pulled him to his feet by their interlaced hands. His face flushed a lighter shade of his favorite color, now unfortunately not concealed by white and black paints. With his free hand he straightened out his shirt and pulled up his shorts a little, then fiddled with the beadless leather necklace around his neck subconsciously. At Emma's next words, his eyebrows quirked by the slightest amount.
"Date?" He repeated in an innocent tone that concealed his smugness. "I would have, but I didn't know that this was one." Rephaim was teasing her, of course. He wanted this to be a date, but he utterly sucked at choosing where to go for such. He much rather preferred winging it. Rephaim released his necklace to place this hand over their interlaced ones, sandwiching Emma's between both of his warm palms.
"Let's call this a date, then. Dates tell you about the other person, correct? This can be a date." He said calmly, slowly in his attempt to have Emma relax, even just slightly. "Now would you rather walk to a specific destination or wander aimlessly?"

"Then let's aimlessly walk around for our 'date'." Rephaim agreed, removing a hand from hers to mimic her air quotes. He grinned and put that hand in his pocket as he began to walk forward. He was excited for some reason to go on this aimless walk with Emma, even though this girl gave him these atrocious feelings - what was going on with his heart again? He was supposed to be numb to such, but apparently that unspoken law was to be broken. How could he love this feeling and hate it all the same?
"You're confusing." He mumbled beneath his breath, though loud enough for her to possibly hear. He meant it as a rhetorical statement, but supposed he would have to explain his reasoning behind such an odd sentence. He wouldn't mind it, either. The point of walking to nowhere was mainly to focus on talking anyway. As he stepped forward he gently swung their hands between them, an expression between amused and a bit disgruntled tugged on his face.

"I mean just that, Emma," Rephaim glanced down at her just for a second before turning his attention to his shoes. He walked a few more steps silently, taking time to think of a response. "You're confusing me. I see you as someone out of the ordinary. This is strange to me."
He wasn't used to explaining why he felt a certain way, so he just assumed he should keep it under wraps for now. There was no sense in explaining this compassionate intruder to a stranger he had just met. Even if this feeling completely baffled the poor boy. When he looked back up, his eyes met hers as they always did. He didn't want to say anymore, so he hoped his look was one of expectation. Rephaim's eyes were focused in way where they were almost entranced; if she did have something to say in response then he was all ears, careful not to miss a word.

Rephaim nodded in understanding.
This was all so weird and just...it made him uneasy, okay? He had just met this girl and already he couldn't slow the beating of his heart. Then her eyes locked on his, and then that stupid heat returned to his face so he had to look away. He didn't know what to make of the two. They acted out of the ordinary when they were together and, at least for Rephaim, he couldn't look away for longer than a few seconds without feeling as if a piece of him were missing. His mind flashed back to last night after prom when he went to hang out by the funeral pyre, soon falling into a light sleep before waking up a bit later. He decided that was the time to go to his cabin and sleep. Rephaim was almost to his bunk until he remembered that Emma shared a cabin with him. He saw her then, just the silhouette, and he hurriedly left the cabin and fell into an even deeper sleep back at the pyre. Why? He couldn't stand laying there all night with his heart throbbing about some girl he danced the night away with. It was disgusting. It was horrid. It was troublesome. Alas, he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling. Wait, what?
"Barely knowing you only adds to the confusion."

At the tugging, Rephaim released his hand from Emma's settled with letting it rest inside of his other pocket much like his other hand. He was kind of glad that they let go - his palms were getting sweaty anyway. He did look back at Emma once his blush had faded in order to listen better to what she was saying. Ask her questions, get an answer. He smiled wryly as it was similar to what they did at prom, when he found out that they liked similar things. Rephaim couldn't help but agree.
"Alright then. Let's see..." The boy sighed in thought, one hand being freed from his pocket to rub the back of his neck. What basic question could he ask her that he hadn't already asked? "Um...what do you like doing for fun, I guess?"

"Hey, I'm trying!" Rephaim laughed a little when she had snickered at his question. It was hard asking people things when he usually just listened. He waited to hear her response and nodded when she mentioned her street art again. Normally he wouldn't have even gave graffiti a second thought, but imagining the children of Ares' faces when they saw the artwork was too glorious of an image. Then she also said hanging around with her best friend was something she enjoyed, and Rephaim could relate. He and Hayden were pretty close like that, usually talking about music and stuff. Then she asked her next question and Rephaim couldn't stop the equally mischievous smile from growing on his face.
"If you look closely around the funeral pyre, you will find a nook in one of the cement walls. It holds my pillow and a sheet." He was almost tempted to be overly dramatic and say that he didn't sleep, which might have gotten a few laughs. Instead, he kept it true. "Sometimes I do go to the cabin later at night. Here's one: what are you hiding? I mean, we all have our secrets after all." He doubted that Emma would answer this when they had only met yesterday, but it was worth a shot. And it was true - Rephaim had his own fair share of secrets.

"It was worth a try. But 'Death Boy'? Really?" He sighed again, feigning disappointment. He'd find out eventually maybe. Rephaim watched his feet (usually bare but now in a pair of his good shoes) as he let the question roll about in his mind, searching for an answer. His life wasn't as amazing as most of the other demigods' that were here at this camp. Some had to rough it to survive, others had no home outside of camp. Rephaim even knew some people that were murderous before they came here. Then there was he, the normal-not-normal guy from the Minor Gods cabin.
"I lived in Quebec with my mother, stepfather, and my younger brother and sister. My mother's a nurse and my stepfather's an accountant. It was nothing extraordinary." He did a small half-shrug with his right shoulder. "What about you, Vandal? What was your life like?"

"Quebec is nothing special. A couple French words here and there. My family and I did live close to a river." He said after her comment about wanting to visit there. Then Rephaim listened as she continued on, and was taken aback slightly at the fact that she came from an orphanage. He didn't know why, but he didn't expect it even though the majority of campers were left like that. Rephaim just thought that maybe she was the kid that had strict parents that she rebelled against by getting that (admittedly cute) nose ring and spray painting the city. Her Australian heritage didn't really shock him; he easily would've guessed it eventually. He felt some sympathy, but suspected Emma wouldn't want him feeling sorry or anything like that. She continued speaking, and so would he.
"Oh, sure, when you ask it it suddenly becomes World's Best Question." Rephaim joked, nudging her lightly with his elbow. But he began thinking. "Listening to music, mainly. I occasionally talk about it over lunch with my best friend Hayden. I train a lot in the arenas...but it's hard to catch me."

"Hold on, hold on. I'm thinking." Rephaim smirked and looked up to the blue semi-clouded sky that was being manipulated by a certain wine god. He was happy that it was a decent day, but he did expect it to change in an instant in order to benefit the strawberry fields. Now to think up another question to ask Emma. His focus shifted back to her as one developed. It wasn't as good as hers, but this one seemed to fit him more.
"So I know your favorite color, what you like doing for fun, some of your past. What about what makes you happy?" Rephaim questioned. His hands were removed from his pockets to make gestures that went along with what he was saying. "Now I don't mean a specific item or activity or anything like that. Like...when were you at your happiest point?"