’Spoiled’ was one word you could use to describe yourself. Though, your girlfriend begged to differ.

It’s not that she meant to spoil you- she was just doting.

Like your loyal knight; she bowed to you, worshipped the ground you walked on, and made you feel protected. Within her arms, nothing could touch you. She would make sure you knew that, too. She had been raised a weapon, made to be something strong and useful. To her, that’s love.

Clarisse wasn’t always the best at outward affection. It was awkward and hushed, and messy. But, you knew she loved you. With everything within her, she would make an effort to care for you.

Currently, you two sit at a bench in Camp Half-Blood, your bag resting next to Clarisse (she carried it for you), and you rambling on and on about your day, she nods along.