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The entire morning, Hadrian had also noticed that Hazel had been a little wary of him. He didn't know what her deal was but according to Annabeth who had talked to Percy (since Hadrian didn't want to go seek out Percy to talk to him) Hazel was technically dead. No one really talked about it, they never acknowledged it, but everyone knew it.

She'd died in the early 1940s which was a wild thing to wrap anyone's head around. Hadrian wondered how she was coping. It must not have been easy- dying at such a young age and then being resurrected somehow in a completely different era.

So what if she was side eyeing him? What if she kept looking at him like he was walking around naked? This must all be so weird for her. Or maybe it was the eyeliner.

Hadrian wondered if he'd pushed it. He wondered how long it would take the demigods on board to all find out he was pan and how long after that they would start to call him slurs. Percy and Jason seemed decent, but everyone pretended to be nice at first.

"Can I ask you something?" Hazel spoke up. She was almost halfway across the deck, but her voice carried since there was no other noises around them. In fact there was nothing around them at all, for miles and miles. Oh gods he was turning into a full american- he meant kilometers and kilometers of course.

Hadrian shrugged. He'd been doing that a lot.

"Why do you- why did you put the eyeliner on? I hope I'm not being rude"

"I think I look good" Hadrian said. "I like the creative part, it's fun and it makes my eyes pop. Why?"

"No reason"

Of course there was a reason. A reason Hazel seemed wary. She had been decent yesterday when he was flirting with her for fun, but now Hadrian wasn't sure if he wanted to stay on deck one second longer than he needed to.

He'd take his suffocating room over the awkwardness on deck.

She's from the 1940s. He tried to tell himself. He wasn't making excuses for Hazel, but he was very well aware how homophobic, racist and sexist those times had been. She'd take a bit longer to adjust.

Maybe he should just hold off on the makeup and nail polish. He almost slapped himself at the thought. Since when did he give a shit about what others thought of him?

Why should Hadrian have to sacrifice something he liked to do so she wouldn't be uncomfortable?

And besides, Hazel knew what it was like to be discriminated against, she definitely had it way worse than him in those times. She'd come around. Hopefully.

"Do you-" Frank began and Hadrian almost groaned. Oh gods this was going to be bad, he could tell already. "Do you like anyone on board?"

The way he said it, Hadrian could tell if he wanted to ask if Hadrian liked him. Gods he may be queer but he had standards or so he liked to think.

"Yes I'm madly in love with Coach Hedge" Hadrian deadpanned, "Just because I'm queer doesn't mean I'm falling for every guy or girl I see" He snapped. He'd just said those words to Percy yesterday, and apparently the son of Poseidon had thought the same thing because he flinched when Hadrian said it.

He was so fucking tired of saying that all the time. He usually tried to be polite, tried to explain it to straight people. But they never put in the same effort, never gave him more thought than needed, never tried to see how hurtful their words could be.

Gods, this really was a bad idea. Could he just shove Frank off board and offer him a sacrifice to Gaea? Surely a Greek primordial didn't give a shit about things like sexual orientation.

𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬  [Percy Jackson]Where stories live. Discover now