Calypso and the Moon

Acceptance.

Three Months Later.

Calypso stared at the picture on her dresser. Her eyes burned heavily, the crying made her nose runny and lips puffy. The picture was of her, the twins and Jack.

Jack's funeral was a few days after he was announced dead, and ever since then, Calypso hadn't been the same. She hadn't spoken to anyone in the last six weeks, ignoring calls and pretending she wasn't home when there was knocking at her door.

Her heart felt hollow, and she had taken up drinking as a way to ease the pain in her chest and in her head. A half empty whiskey bottle sat at the foot of her bed, and a whiskey glass was propped in her shaking hands. Her head swirled due to the whiskey, and for once, she didn't cry when she looked at the picture.

Her phone vibrated somewhere on her bed, and she lazily looked for it in between her messy covers.

James name flashed on the screen once she found it, and although her brain was screaming at her to answer it, she ignored it. The phone fell from her hand onto the mattress again, and she took a big gulp from her glass.

Athena was by her side twenty-four-seven for the last three months, following her everywhere. Calypso stared through her window at the moon, wishing he'd come over and help take her pain away.

And that's exactly what he did. She heard firm knocking on her door and stood from her bed, kicking the whiskey bottle over in the process. She stumbled to the door, and turned the key.

She opened it, and at the single sight of James, she felt her chin quiver and her green eyes blurred with tears. Without a word, he took her in his arms. Fire sparked where skin met skin, and she was eternally grateful for his lack of words.

Walking her back into her apartment, he kicked the door closed when he was fully inside. His hair was pulled back into a bin behind his head, and his eyes were tired, drooping slightly and red.

His strong arms circled around her shoulders, bringing her flush to his chest. She let the first sob rack through her body and James held her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

They stood like that for a while, James simply holding her and Calypso crying into his shirt. Her tiny hands kneaded his shirt, creasing it. Her head throbbed as she cried. Warmth bloomed in her chest when he whispered sweet nothings to her, telling her it'd be okay soon.

This was the first time he'd seen her in three weeks, and his heart crumbled at the sight of her. She didn't shed a single tear at the funeral, she simply stared at nothing. Never meeting the gazes of her wary friends or Jack's parents. And without a word, she disappeared for three entire months.

She quit both her jobs, and James longed for her when he went to therapy at the mental health hospital. Mary had taken her place, and flirted so much with James that it made his head spin in annoyance.

Calypso rarely slept, she couldn't. Her brain only fed her memories of her and Jack. She had longed for James and her friends, but she couldn't face them just yet.

She was being selfish, and she knew that. Avery and Angela were hurting too, and maybe they needed her during that time, but Calypso needed herself first.

"Doll, look at me,"

She shook her head against his chest, holding him tighter to her. Her cries had stopped a whole ago, and now it was mainly sniffing and soft murmurs from her.

"Please, baby. Let me see that face,"

She sniffed again, but finally looked up at James. Her eyes were bloodshot, and puffy. But she still looked like an angel, his angel. His thumbs rubbing her cheeks gently, wiping the fallen flowers from her face.