‧₊˚♪𝄞 Crush - Ethel Cain

Connor Stoll was commonly referred to as one of the most annoying demigods at Camp Halfblood.

You were determined to be worse.

Every time he tried to pull a prank or tried to steal from someone, you were there, hellbent on sabotaging him. Even his attempts to prank you were ruined.

Why?

So he’d pay attention to you, obviously. How else were you supposed to get him to notice you besides pissing him off? Sure, he definitely wasn’t a fan of you, but it’s all the same to you.

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest every time he glanced—glared—at you at dinner. You could feel your face get hot when you noticed him purposely targeting you in capture the flag.

You were convinced it was true love, though you’d never say anything to him about it.

Instead, you just continued to bother him. You even started to pull your own pranks on him. You’d hide various things of his in odd places, leave him cryptically worded notes under his pillows, and the list goes on.

Honestly, you really terrorized the guy. It was your very own special, though unsuccessful, way of flirting. It absolutely did not land well with him.

Connor knew it was you tormenting him, even without having any proof. He couldn’t stand you. You were everywhere he was, creating problems for him left and right. It was infuriating.

It all came to a peak during capture the flag one night.

As always, the Hermes cabin was on the opposing team as yours. The forest was dark as you listened to the distant sounds of fighting demigods as you stood on patrol. It could’ve been almost peaceful if not for Connor sneaking up behind you. He knocked into your back hard enough to make you fall forward.

“Hey, what’s your deal, huh?” he asked, the annoyance in his voice clear as day. “I know what you’re doing.”

You smiled slightly to yourself as you started to get back up. “You don’t have a clue.”

He scoffed. “Well, contrary to popular belief, I’m not stupid. I know you’re the one who keeps messing with me. It’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

To that, he simply scowled. Your ears felt hot. Gods, you wanted him bad.

You were standing now, mirroring him with your arms crossed. If you weren’t so sure he’d punch you, you might’ve confessed right then.

“Why?”

His question threw you off. “What?”

“Why me? What did I do?” he elaborated. “Did I steal from you? Prank you, or something? I don’t get it. I don’t get you.”