A Moment of Stars || PJO Chaos [REWRITE]

Not Okay Pt. 1

"Lari, no."

"You're not my superior."

"When it comes to keeping you out of trouble? Yes, I 100% am." The older man rolls his eyes. "You can't just ignore basic orders. You have to take over training tonight." She purposefully ignores the Advising General and focuses more on the sound of their footsteps as they make their way down the narrow hall of the Sector Zero Dormitories(aka Creare Hall). The corners of her mouth tighten in irritation.

Don't get her wrong, she loves Saros—they're siblings in everything but blood. But it's times like these that make her bite her tongue from harsh words she knows she'll regret later. Can anyone blame her though?

Unbeknownst to her discontent, Saros continues on his rant. "But really, what's been up with you this past month? I get that you're stressed, but this isn't like you. You know Percy is still having episodes? They're not as frequent as before, but at least keep that in mind when you're tempted with the idea of chopping one of his limbs off."

"He was the one who tried to break my knee." She grumbles.

"That's still not an excuse."

She doesn't respond and simply continues to follow him into Sector Zero's communal kitchen/living area. She clicks her tongue at the sight of dishes stacked in the sink. "Is Rigel back?"

Saros looks towards the sink as well before sighing. "Yeah, he and his officers came in late last night. I told him to wash them before heading to bed though." The fond annoyance from his expression makes her want to gag. The two have been together for over a year now, and she's honestly so happy for the commander. However, neither of them seem to have ever gotten past the 'honeymoon' phase of dating, which renders her as a constant victim of lovey-dovey affection and indirect third-wheeling.

"Hopeless." She mutters under her breath and speaks up. "Did you only tell him once? You know he has the memory of a goldfish." She opens a cabinet to take out two mugs and tea bags for them both.

"Yeah," Saros sighs, "I should have left a note for the next morning, but my brain was pretty fried last night from taking over training." She hums in acknowledgement and starts to boil water on the stove. "And speaking of training—"

"I can't do it tonight, Saros." Elara keeps her gaze trained on the fire beneath the kettle. "And I'm not just being petty, okay? Can't you get Aurora to cover it?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" He retorts, already knowing exactly why. Elara turns and narrows her eyes at Saros, but all the older man does is snort at her signature deadly gaze. "Okay, fine, but why can't you clock in tonight? You never disobey Chaos' orders unless something big is coming up."

She looks back to the now steaming kettle, debating whether or not she really wanted to tell him what's happening. Seconds of silence fill the space between them, but it's not awkward. Saros knows that silence doesn't mean rejection when it comes to the young Keeper. She can, however, feel him lean forward at the breath she takes before she speaks. "I sent a message to my father."

Now, this silence is different—it's the one she's always feared. It's filled with shock, concern, and disappointment. She hates all three of those.

"You're joking, right?" The quiet in his voice makes her skin prickle. Her shoulders curl into her chest at the sound. Elara didn't want to look back, she couldn't. "Elara."

"I know." She swallows. "I know."

"No." Saros' voice hits her where it hurts. "I don't think you do. Are we talking about the same person right now? The man that ostracized you from your own birthplace? The fuel to the fire of the aftermath of the Blast? Elara." She winces. The thing is, she really does know. After the incident so many years ago, she promised herself she would never go back.