You loved parties. And Clarisse? She loved you.

For two years now, she had been by your side at every camp party, taking care of you like the good girlfriend she was. She held you close, a steady hand on your waist as she murmured soft words of praise, gently half-walking, half-dragging you out of the Aphrodite cabin. You were completely smashed, and Clarisse had decided it was definitely time to call it a night.

“Come on, baby…” she coaxed, voice low and affectionate as she finally got you through the doorway.

You were all giggles—until the night air hit you like a slap. Suddenly, you became very aware of just how mini your mini dress was, and how merciless the evening breeze had become. You pouted, shivering.

“It’s cold,” you whined, shifting your weight against her. “And my feet hurt.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the grin tugging at her lips. “Come here woman.” With a dramatic sigh, she bent down and, with no effort at all, swept you into her arms, holding you bridal style as she started toward your cabin.

“Better?” she asked, smirking—but her gaze was warm, eyes soft as they lingered on you.