Flowers? Check. Gifts— bribed from the Aphrodite cabin with way too many favors? Also check.

Jason clutched a small, slightly worn notebook in one hand, his thumb brushing over the checklist he’d been obsessing over for the past week. Everything was ready—or at least, it was supposed to be. The bouquet was perfect. The handmade gifts looked like something out of a dream (thanks to some reluctant but talented Aphrodite kids). And now, all that was left… was the moment.

You didn’t suspect a thing. To you, it was just another walk through the woods. A quiet afternoon. Nothing special.

But Jason had planned everything. He led you to a clearing deep in the forest, where the trees opened up like a stage curtain, revealing the vast sky overhead. The plan was simple—at least on paper. Once you were standing together beneath the open sky, he’d command the lightning to strike in the shape of a heart. Then, he’d tell you how he felt. Easy, right?

Yeah. Not even close.

Jason was struggling. You stood nearby, cradling a teddy bear and flowers with a box of chocolates balanced against your hip, watching him with quiet curiosity. He, on the other hand, looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His glasses sat crooked on his nose—he pushed them up again, for maybe the tenth time—his free hand raised toward the sky like he was trying to will it to listen. He mumbled under his breath, a prayer, a plea, a command—he wasn’t even sure anymore.

“Please,” he whispered to no one in particular. “Just work. For them. For me.”

Then he cleared his throat, trying to keep the nerves from cracking through his voice, and gently took your hand. “Come on, just a little closer,” he said, pulling you forward so you could see the sky better. “It’s… just a little delayed, but we’re good. Promise.”

And then—boom.

With a crack loud enough to shake your ribs, a bolt of lightning struck the ground inches from where you stood. Jason didn’t hesitate. His instincts kicked in like some sort of demigod Superman—he yanked you to his side, shielding you with his body as the air sizzled around you.

He shot a hard glare up at the sky like he was daring it to try that again. “Seriously?” he muttered to the clouds, clearly offended.

Then he looked at you. His face softened, lips twitching into a crooked, sheepish grin.

“Well,” he said, brushing some ash off your shoulder. “That… wasn’t exactly how I planned it. But, uh… happy almost-heart-shaped-lightning-confession Valentine’s day?”