the gods, for once, had decided to be generous and nice.

well, somewhat.

in celebration of winning the second giant war and successfully defeating gaea, the gods threw a celebration on mount olympus. everybody from camp half-blood and camp jupiter had been invited.

the throne room on olympus was ignited with chatter and tons of voices, the sounds reverberating off of the walls. the entire room was covered in light, the source of the light coming from a giant chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.

slow music echoed off of the walls, distantly playing in the background, played by few satyrs and children of apollo.

everybody danced with their significant other and mingled with strangers if they didn’t have significant other. everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves.

you didn’t know if everybody was enjoying themselves, maybe they were just putting on an act, but you knew you were enjoying yourself.

now, why were you enjoying yourself? maybe because you were dancing with the best boyfriend you could possibly ever ask for, which was leo. oh, he was sweet, caring, loving, funny, cute, and a gentleman.

leo spun you in a circle, holding your hand tightly. the ends of his lips curled up into a mischievous smile—the stupid mischievous smile that you grew to love. for once grime wasn’t caked on his face.

the son of hephaestus spun you back in, holding you against him tightly. “you look good tonight, as always, mami,” leo praised, calling you that stupid little nickname in spanish. he always called you that.

his black curly hair, which swept into his face, was slightly highlighted by the bright lights, his dark brown eyes—like pools of freshly brewed espresso—never leaving yours. his tan skin was clean—free of any machine grease or burn marks. gods, the eye contact made everything all the more intense, the tension was palpable.

the son of hephaestus wore a suit, with a black blazer and a white tie, with with button-up white shirt underneath, which was surprisingly clean.