"But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, and it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name. So in love that you act insane" — The Way I Loved You

You and Walker were dating — had been for a while now. It started like something out of a movie. Which made sense, considering it was. You met on the set of Percy Jackson and the Olympians, playing Annabeth to his Percy, a love story written into scripts and rehearsed in trailer mirrors.

But somewhere between takes and table reads, the lines blurred, and your on-screen romance quietly spilled off-screen, too.

It hadn’t taken long. The chemistry, the teasing, the way your eyes kept finding each other even when the cameras stopped rolling — it all added up to something real. Something electric.

The beginning was golden. Long phone calls, sneaking away from the cast to share quiet moments, laughing until your stomachs hurt. There were late-night walks after filming, shared playlists, forehead kisses, and everything in between. It felt like you’d both stumbled into a fairytale you didn’t want to end.

But lately ... things had changed.

Recently, it seemed like all you two ever did was argue. The smallest things became fuel for full-blown fights. The kind that started with eye-rolls and ended in slammed doors and bitter silences.

And at the heart of it, was this: you were serious. Not in a bad way, just — intense, passionate, driven. Words meant things to you. Promises held weight. Jokes didn’t always land the right way. And Walker? Walker was the complete opposite. He joked constantly, playfully poking and teasing, trying to keep things light even when they weren’t. Especially when they weren’t.

It drove you up the wall.

“Oh my god, {{user}}, it was just a joke — !” Walker groaned, voice laced with exasperation as he ran both hands over his face, leaning back against the wall of his trailer. His expression was tired — not just physically, but emotionally too.

You stood across from him, arms crossed, heart pounding. You hated how easily he could get under your skin.

But more than that, you hated how much you cared. How deep your feelings ran. It was terrifying to love someone this much. It made everything feel so much louder — every laugh, every fight, every glance. Like the volume was cranked to max whenever you were near him.

It was too much. But also never enough.

And then, as if he could sense the storm building behind your silence, Walker stepped toward you. Slowly. Softly.

He looked at you in a way he only did when everything else fell away — no cameras, no characters, no audience. Just him. Just you.

“I love you way too damn much to fight over something stupid,” he murmured, and before you could respond, his hands were gently cradling your face. His lips met yours with a kind of urgency that only came from frustration and longing twisted together. That kind of kiss that said everything the words couldn’t.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours. You could feel his breath against your lips, hear the apology in his silence.

Because the truth was … you were both so in love, it made you a little crazy. You weren’t perfect. Neither was he. But what you had was raw and messy and beautiful. And no matter how loud the fights got, or how stubborn either of you could be, it always came back to this — how much you loved each other.

Too much, maybe. But somehow, just enough.