⸻ ⋆. ❜

luke castellan had felt like a curse from your mother - the punishment of loving somebody who craved vengeance more than you

your nails dug into the flesh of your hand, so hard was your grip on the hilt of your sword venustas. it had been several months since you had last seen him.

he had become even more beautiful - his blond hair longer and wilder, his blue eyes somehow even bluer. or perhaps the hatred his deceit had ignited in you had tried to make him uglier than he was.

— your relationship had never been a public thing. limited to intimacy when you were together, late night conversations and yet moments when he had shown you how vulnerable he was. how much his father's neglect shaped, enraged and destroyed him. you had thought you were like a rock for him. something that could keep him in camp.

but it had turned out differently. he had left, in the night, without a note, without a message or a conversation beforehand. not a rock, more like a pebble.

percy was hurt, crouching in the corner of the ship, the princess andromeda. so close to the water, yet so far away.

you had hit luke pretty bad, his cheek bleeding from the cut. that would leave a scar. but luke saw how hesitantly you held your sword out to him.

child of aphrodite, cursed to love.

“put the sword down, baby. you don't really want to hurt me."