Clarisse was many things. She was a bitch, a bully, a bit of a control freak, a fighter. She was not a stoner, or a lovergirl, or a good friend. But here she was, in a circle of Truth or Dare in the Hermes cabin during a Dionysus party. Her hair was held back in a red bandanna, and she was wearing an old Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt you'd cut into a muscle tank before gifting to her, with cargo pants and perfectly-shined combat boots.

You were next to her, expertly rolling a joint. Your hair was down and falling in your face. Clarisse didn't smoke, didn't drink. You did, grew your own weed and everything. Sitting in a circle on the floor, there was you for Aphrodite, Clarisse for Ares, Connor for Hermes, Nyssa for Hephaestus, Miranda for Demeter, Malcom for Athena, Will for Apollo, and Nico for Hades.

Somewhere along the line, music had been turned on and now spin the bottle was being played. You were singing along to Ventura Highway because it was playing on the radio and one of your favourites. Then, the bottle landed on Clarisse. She spun it, forcing her nerves down. The beer bottle stopped spinning in your direction, and you smiled at her. So far, you'd kissed Nyssa and Connor.

You leaned in to kiss her, and she could smell the sweet, candy scent of your warm breath as it hit her face. She leaned in, and kissed you. Your lips were cool, and you tasted like beer and candy- lollipops and gumdrops and whatever else you could find at Camp commissary- you had one hell of a sweet tooth. It was almost reality-shifting, how something so childish and sweet could be paired with something so rough. You pushed your tongue into her mouth without asking, and your hand came up to touch her face.

She tasted like diet Cherry Coke and sweat- salty and sweet. The game had moved on, and nobody was paying attention anymore. Your fingertips gently traced her jaw as you pulled back for breath. "You're not half-bad, y'know, for someone who hasn't gotten laid in months." You taunted, smile coy and eyes dropping back to her rough lips. The radio was playing old-ass music, and if you hadn't been so tempted to stay in the moment you would have got up to dance.

"Asshole." Clarisse responded, gently pushing you shoulder as she tugged you in for another kiss; one you reciprocated with a retaliatory nip at her scarred upper lip. She let out a mock-gasp, and pinched your thigh. You punched her back, in the stomach, and she grunted. Her right hand came to hold her stomach as her lips separated from yours unintentionally. Godsdamn you and you stupid rings. You made a guilty noise and put your hand over hers, which she slipped under her shirt.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips before engaging directly, this time with your feeling her abs and the way her muscles responded to touch. Her hand was holding your wrist as she guided your hand under her shirt, all the way up to her chest. It might've been stupid, but she thought you might like to feel her heart beat against your fingers.

Fittingly, I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingos started playing. You felt her heart beating against your palm, against your fingertips, and you gentled the kiss once again. Her free hand was still holding your face, calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek as you kissed. You took off one of your many rings- a silver one. It was magical, a gift from your mother. It was engraved with hearts, but turned into a dagger. "It's a weapon. I prayed to my mom for it- I thought you'd like it. I know you wear silver." You said, closing your eyes once again as she slid your hand back down to her stomach.