#anders 02.

Nothing was going to keep him from pumpkin spice season, they’d have to kill him. Which was why he was feeling like he was suffering the worst migraine he’d had in a hot minute and standing there with his third pumpkin spice latte of the day. It’s loaded with espresso shots because if sleep is going to keep meaning dreams of that stupid ass fountain, he’s going to stay awake. He’s on what he calls a ‘union mandated break’ from Camp Halfblood, which usually means he’s going to walk up and down the market a couple of times. Or at least that’s what he would be doing if he wasn’t blinking a couple of times at the guy that had gotten carbs with him at Mercuralia. He should have put two and two together back then, the eyes, the accent. "My brother, he's sick." That's what Dante had told him about the man, that's all he knew and yet he'd been a good time. "Hey big guy. I think I owe you carbs." Kay's entire kingdom to get into that coveted Waffle House. He'd settle for brunch.