She’s in my dreams again, godsdamnit. It’s not unheard of for a child of Hypnos, but it’s kind of driving me crazy. I can just about taste her, almost smell her. It’s like she’s dancing on the edge of my consciousness, just teasing me with what I can’t have. She’s in her cabin and I’m in mine, but even at twenty-four I have no interest in being eaten by a Harpy. You stick to camp rules at camp- not difficult to understand.

It’s better than nightmares, for sure, but it’s getting cruel. If I’m not dreaming about the next war, then I’m dreaming of her. I want her, badly. We were briefly a thing after I was un-treed, but I wanted to explore with the Hunters of Artemis could do for me, and she didn’t want to come with me, so we split. And when I came back, she had a boyfriend. She’s single now, and we’re friends. No point, really, the spark’s faded.

Even though I can’t ever seem to pull her into my mind, I can’t deny that this is the best I’ve ever slept. She’s usually singing in these dreams, and the sound washes over me like waves. It’s like I’m back with my mom, before everything, and she’s rocking me to sleep. I feel safe- like nothing can touch me. I’ve had night terrors that could compete only with that of war veterans all my life, but she makes them go away.

Tonight, however, I’m not greeted by her lullaby when I fall asleep. Instead, it’s Lady Aphrodite. I’m in a park of some sort, in my pyjamas. I see a lady with olive skin and long, dark curls waving to me from under a picnic table laden with food and fruit, dressed in a lacy dress. I make my way over, regretting each step. “Ah, Thalia!” She says, standing up to kiss my cheeks.

She sits down again and I follow suit, felling very out of place in my sweatpants and Green Day sleep shirt. “Nice to see you, my lady.” I murmur, combing a hand through my short hair in a poor attempt at calming it down. “Oh, aren’t you nice. But I’m not here for a friendly little chat, darling. I’ve come to speak about a special someone.” She seems delighted, and she immediately comes to mind, before I purge that thought from my mind. Gods, my palms are sweating.

She smiles gleefully at me, and I give her a carefully-crafted blank look. She drown, and tries a different tactic. “Who do I look like to you- should be the person you’re most attracted to.” Her names comes to mind, and I kick myself for the stupid flutter in my stomach. “Nobody I know.” I reply, and she gestures to herself again, like I must not have heard, and pouts when I still do not reply. “Come on, think!” She urges, pouting.