You and Leo had been arguing for *days.¥ Loud arguments. Quiet arguments. Petty arguments. “Why did you say that?” “Why didn’t you say this?” “Why do you always—?” “Well YOU never—!” Chiron finally snapped. He marched you both to the forge, pushed you inside, and said: “You two are going to TALK. And you are not leaving until you do.” Then he left. Silence. Then.. The forge goes silent. Not because anything burned out — but because Hephaestus walks in, and even the machines seem scared to make noise. Leo stiffens instantly. “Oh great. This is perfect. This is—amazing timing—”

Hephaestus holds up a hand. “Sit.” Leo sits. Immediately. Grumbling. You sit too, though less dramatically. Hephaestus watches you both with those heavy, quietly intelligent eyes. “You two are loud,” he says simply.

Leo sputters. “We’re not—loud! We’re passionate!” “You’re not listening,” Hephaestus replies calmly. Leo shuts up. Hephaestus turns to you. “You’re hurt because he leaves instead of speaking. Or he resorts to violence.”

Then to Leo. “And you leave because speaking feels like trying to weld glass.” Leo blinks. “That’s actually… really accurate.”

“I know,” Hephaestus says. He leans on his hammer, voice low. “Leo, child… you are not a mistake waiting to happen. Stop treating yourself like one.” Leo’s face cracks — the bravado slipping. “And you,” Hephaestus says to you, “cannot fix him by force. You hold heat differently. If you push him, he will melt. If you guide him, he will strengthen. but you are going through much more, and just want him to listen. He doesn’t treat you well.” You both sit there, stunned.

Hephaestus sighs heavily — smoke curling from his beard. “Talk,” he says. “Now.“

Leo huffs, rolling his eyes.