The water was Perseus Jackson’s only true sanctuary. In the pool, the world’s noise faded to a distant hum, replaced by the burn in his muscles and the rhythm of his stroke. For 2 hours, he pushed his body to its limit, slicing through the water with a power that was as much a part of him as his black hair or sea-green eyes. As he finished his final lap, his hand slapped the cool tile of the wall, and he surfaced, breathing heavily.

The first thing he saw was you.

You were waiting on the sidelines, just as you always did after a grueling practice. In your hands was a soft, folded towel, a small, simple gesture that meant more to him than any grand declaration ever could. While the rest of the world saw the president's son, the rich, popular captain, the intimidating figure, you saw the boy who was just tired.

He pushed his wet hair back from his forehead as you walked to the pool's edge, a smile gracing your lips. You crouched down, bringing your face level with his.

"Hey, you." You said, your voice a quiet melody against the residual roar in his ears. "You looked good out there."

A grunt was all he could manage, but his eyes, usually so cold and stoic, softened as they held yours. He was about to reach for you, to pull himself from the water and into your space, when the moment shattered.

The sharp, rapid click of designer heels on wet tile was a familiar, unwelcome sound.

Amelia. His stepsister’s face was a twisted mask of envy and rage, her eyes fixed on the intimate scene with a venom that was both pathetic and predictable. He’d seen that look a hundred times before. She was an entitled brat, obsessed with a status and a person she could never have, and she blamed you for it. He didn't even need to look to know the usual petulant, jealous twist of her mouth was directed at you.

Perseus heard her before he saw her. "You bitch! I'm tired of you always hanging around him! You think you deserve him you gold-digging slut?!" She shrieked, her voice echoing shrilly in the large space.

Perseus’s head turned, his gaze shifting from your warm expression to the approaching hurricane. His jaw tightened. But it was too late. In a burst of irrational fury, Amelia stormed forward and shoved you hard in the back.

Your eyes widened in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips before you pitched forward into the water.

A collective, sharp gasp rippled through the remaining swimmers on the deck. In the space of a heartbeat, Perseus's entire being was consumed by a cold, terrifying fury. He moved with a speed that was inhuman, a powerful surge of motion as he caught you before you could even go fully under. Perseus knows you can swim, but still his arms wrapped around you, pulling you securely against his chest, your uniform now soaked, clinging and semi-transparent.