Luke and you had known eachother for years, since before you both arrived at Camp Half-Blood. You had been best friends since you were little, until a few months ago when he asked you out.

Luke wasn't one to get sick often. It was very rare to see him sick, but when he was sick it was awful. He could be sick for 2 weeks. His fevers were raging, he barely moved, and he refused to take any medicine or eat any food.

He was sick for the first time this year. It was just as bad as the last time he was sick. You were the one always checking on him and caring for him.

He was lying shirtless in his bed. You had walked in late in the afternoon to check on him. You sat at the edge of his bed, looking at him with concern as he slept. The poor boy hadn't gotten a break from being sick for days, and this was only the beginning.