The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, as you and Annabeth walked along the shoreline at Camp Half-Blood. The sound of the waves crashing against the sand filled the comfortable silence between you two. It was your favorite place to be—just you, Annabeth, and the sea stretching endlessly before you.

She bent down, picked up a smooth stone, and tossed it across the water. It skipped three times before sinking.

"Not bad," you said with a grin, bending down to find your own skipping stone. "But I can do better."

Annabeth smirked, her gray eyes catching the fading sunlight. "Oh, please. You’ve been saying that for years, and it never happens."