You Promised. ((Privado))

Rephaim scoffed, a look of disbelief crossing his face in confusion. That wouldn't do. That wasn't okay, that wasn't human!
"You did not just say that you 'don't know'." He repeated incredulously. Rephaim didn't know why, nor would he admit it now or later on, this bothered him so much. He guessed that it was because all people in his opinion should be absolutely sure what makes them happy, or everyone has those dreams and wishes that make them happy. Something. It didn't make any sense. Then a thought came to him: if anyone else had said that they didn't know what made them happy, he would've shrugged his shoulders and continued talking about whatever else. However when Emma had said it, he felt furious. Not with her, but with himself because he wanted to know so badly. He wanted to know what made her happy so he could find it and bring to her. He wanted to make her happy. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa.
Rephaim couldn't just do that, just all of a sudden want to give Emma whatever to make that signature smirk grow. Even if that was very like him, the difference was that he actually cared about that smirk. That beguile smirk that would wander in his mind from fighting in the arenas to sleeping in his little nook. That smirk that was once again stuck in his head at this very moment - Enough of that. He would have to speak around it.
"Besides that, you honestly don't know? Like, not at all?" Rephaim slowed his walking a little bit to glance into her silvery-bluish (he still couldn't decide on the color) eyes as if it would help the smirk leave his mind. It worked, but now those transfixing eyes had found their place. Just perfect.

Rephaim's confused look slowly turned into that of a pleased one as Emma continued on with why exactly she liked street art. He enjoyed listening to her talk of it, how with each word she gave him more of a reason to listen. From the little brush of red that dusted her cheeks Rephaim could tell that she either wasn't used to talking so much about why she did the things she loved or something else that he couldn't quite put his finger on. When she had asked him the same question, Rephaim was actually surprised. He should've saw it coming, but he was so preoccupied with Emma's answer that he didn't prepare for the following. But his answer was automatic.
"Understanding people." The answer was true, the answer was straightforward. Still Rephaim went on. "I like trying to see what makes people the way they are. How their emotions come and go. How far can they reach before they snap. I like trying to understand anything having to do with that, which makes me happy." He gave a little shrug of his shoulders and turned his face away from Emma again, watching the still grass as he walked.

Rephaim laughed, the smile reaching his eyes. He'd never told anyone what made him happy before, mainly because people never asked. They were normally more concerned about his cool sword or how good he is at his Monster Maiming class. Non-demigods wondered why he walked around barefoot half of the time and what kind of teen-aged boy would be interested in Broadway. It was quality entertainment that connected the singing and theatre, thank you very much. He supposed that he could start asking Emma more questions, but there was the simple fact that his questions usually sucked. What would he do then? He was silent for a few heartbeats.
"What questions do you want me to ask you?" Rephaim finally asked out of frustration with himself.

Rephaim rolled his eyes in feigned irritation as he tried even harder to think up a decent question. Gods, with all of this strain Rephaim felt like he should purchase a book on wondrous questions to ask someone that you met at prom and slowly falling for. Whoa, no, what? No, he didn't think that. That thought never happened. It was weird and a little bit preposterous. He shook the thought away in hopes that a new question-esque one would appear.
"Is there something you're trying to ignore? Like...that little voice thing in the back of your head?" That question was supposed to be for himself, but he had apparently said it out loud. Rephaim decided to just play it off and look at Emma for her response, his own cheeks flushed once again in heat. He guessed that it worked as his question. It was decent.

"I mean, that could work too I guess. But I was referring to a...bad habit or something." Yeah, a bad habit worked in place of his meant-to-be soul searching question. Okay, it didn't really count as soul searcher, but there was no way he was going to tell Emma that he was over here questioning himself on every move he did. That would make him seem like he liked her, which he didn't want her to see just yet. Or maybe ever. Oh, great, he was mind babbling again. What did he just say? Right.
"For example, I'm trying to ignore myself wanting to be secluded. Part of me wants to shut up because that's what I'm used to, but the other part is trying to get me to be more...Open, I guess. I don't know. It's stupid." Rephaim's body was relaxed other than the biting of his lower lip. That was a bad habit, too, that he picked up from someone a long time ago. He just couldn't remember who, but he guessed that wasn't important. He reverted back to silence in order to see what Emma would say.

There they were, one of their habits stupid and another weird. Rephaim had managed to even confuse himself during this whole process. Yeah, you could tell that he didn't really speak to people often. He felt the awkward air grow around them and immediately felt his silence return. He subconsciously planned to stay quiet for the rest of the walk. That is, until Emma had asked him when the lessons were done. Great. His question has made her want to leave. Rephiam checked his watch anyway while arguing with himself mentally. Maybe it was better for the two anyway, he didn't really now.
"We have fifteen minutes until people will be swarming around out here." He said. Like that, he went back to his quiet self.

Rephaim looked up at Emma when the silence was broken, somewhat dazed and a tad confused. She was right: they should do something. The problem was that Rephaim had no idea what. He hoped that she already had an idea because he was lost.
"I agree," Rephaim said with an uplifted eyebrow. "...As long as it's legal." He was messing with her of course. Okay, only a little bit.

"But Emma-!" And she was gone. Rephaim just stood there with his arms dangling to his sides, looking like a confused dork in the middle of the courtyard for about a minute. She had disappeared inside of their cabin and soon reappeared with a heavy-looking grey backpack. Oh, gods, whatever it was couldn't be legal. His brown eyes widened as she came nearer.
"Wait, wait, wait don't thro--Hmmph!" He grunted in response to the backpack hitting him square in the stomach. He had caught it luckily but it still hurt. The backpack really was heavy, though probably lighter to him than it was for Emma. He didn't even get a good grip on it before she had his hand in his and was towing him away towards the Hermes cabin. If possible, Rephaim's eyes got even bigger. This wasn't legal. Rephaim hadn't even been on punishment a day in his life, let alone commit a crime. Okay, maybe it wasn't that serious in reality, but to a goody-goody this was a lot to take in.

Rephaim was flung this way and that just to get behind the Hermes cabin. She spun him around, probably ignoring his disgruntled pleas, and started digging around inside of the backpack. She pulled out her hand and held in it just what he expected: spray paint. The sound of the paint leaving the can reminded Rephaim of opening up a soda for the first few times, when the fizz would bubble up and hiss at you. He did like that sound. It was just the fact that he was about to do a federal offence. What if they got caught? What if Chiron turned them in? Rephaim couldn't go to jail! Especially in America! How degrading!
"Do you want to try?" The question received from Emma made the boy's face contort to disgust. She didn't even look over her shoulder. It was like she expected him to go against sixteen years of home training in that instant. How impudent! How dubious! How abhorrent! So logically, he dropped the bag to the ground.
And retrieved from it a can of blue paint. He shook it up, popped off the lid, and began his work. What was he doing?!
"So is there a theme or something that we're doing here?"

Rephaim stopped his flow of paint to glance over at Emma to see what she meant after that sudden pause. He slowly smiled and turned back to his work, sculpting the background since he had the blue paint.
"Well that is unexpected. Why him specifically?" He capped his can to switch colors. As he rummaged through the bag, it was like he was a completely different person. Who was this guy? Was this even the same boy that ironed his socks that morning? Or the one that ate pretzels and carrot sticks for "junk food"? This was frightening to see, yet impossible to turn away from. Rephaim was now doing the outline of the face in a reddish tone to almost make it look like it was glowing. Plus, red was the official Ares Cabin's color and whoever saw it might just assume one of them did it. Ooh, so the spray paint made him malicious, too? How exciting!

I'd like to say that first off, I'm not even mad about this act of vandalism. This was creative, and I've been dying to give the cabin a new paint job. Anyway, back to these two. Rephaim just smiled at her explanation as if it was the perfect answer ever. It was obvious that he had a crush on her, which was weird because Rephaim was a dork. Not a complete one, but he was just too...good. He kept on painting like he knew what he was doing, which pretty much wouldn't have surprised me. He was a decent painter. I wondered if he was going to tell Emma that when she mentioned if he had done this before.
"I've used it before. Just never on a cabin." Rephaim shrugged. Typical. If I were closer I would have kicked him in the shin and told him to put some bass in his voice or something. He needs to learn how to talk to the ladies! He most definitely shouldn't be getting his best advice from a twelve-year-old. "I was in art and design back home. I guess it helps." If I were Rephaim, I would've said that I carried the class. But nooo, he just switched out the red paint with the purple to add shadows to Emma's skeleton-like design.

Ooc: I've decided to have my youngest character narrate because I got bored with my normal style. Random, but nice.

Well, isn't this adorable? Besides, you know, this is my cabin. I was talking about that goofy smile and little comment that Emma made, that Rephaim was too busy painting to see. It reminded me of how I smiled at a certain favorite Aphrodite girl when neither she nor her boyfriend are looking. Oops. Well watching Rephaim paint was like how you would imagine watching a struggling new artist doing so. His creepy eyes were squinted and focused as if his life depended on each stroke. He would switch out the paints every so often, only doing things that would compliment Emma's work like shading, outlining, highlighting, all of that fun stuff. They finished pretty quickly. It was probably because of two people working on one job, don't know, don't care. I'm probably going to have to be the one cleaning it up. Wait, she said something else. I missed it.
"Sure does. I can see that this is something you love doing." Ah, I think I got it. Rephaim capped his spray can and stuck it in the bag with the rest like how Emma was doing. He was smiling, which was a good sign. It was one of those genuine I-like-you-'cause-you're-pretty smiles that he hurried up and changed it into a I'm-humble-which-makes-me-cool-automatically smile. Uh-oh, look. He was pretty close to Emma when he was putting the paint away. And he was still smiling. "That was fun, I must admit. We should do that again sometime." Atta boy.