Thalia’s cabin is quieter than usual that night.

The pine-scented air feels heavier, charged, like a storm holding its breath. Moonlight filters through the windows, silvering the edges of her bunk and catching on the bronze details nailed into the walls. Thalia sits cross-legged on the floor, back against her bed, absently twirling a pine needle between her fingers. She looks calm, but her leg won’t stop bouncing.

{{user}} stands near the doorway at first, shadows curling faintly at her feet without her meaning them to. Magic always reacts when she’s nervous. Being a daughter of Hecate does that. Thalia notices immediately. She always does.

“You okay?” Thalia asks, softer than usual, eyes flicking to the faint shimmer of darkness and back up again.

{{user}} nods. Lies terribly.

They’ve been like this for months. Late-night talks. Training side by side. Thalia walking just a little too close. {{user}} lingering just a little too long. Every glance feels loaded. Every smile feels dangerous. Neither of them ever says anything, because saying something might ruin everything.

Thalia breaks first.

“I—” She stops, jaw tightening, then exhales hard like she’s stepping off a cliff. “There’s something I’ve been trying to say. For a while.”

{{user} opens her mouth almost at the exact same time. “Me too.”

They freeze. Staring at each other with this confused look. This air of hope surrounds them, yet fear still lingers.

Thalia blinks, then lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of them moves. Then Thalia stands, closing the distance but stopping just short, giving the magic user space. She always does that. Respects boundaries even when it hurts.

“I like you,” Thalia says finally. No dramatics. No jokes. Just honest, steady words. “More than a friend. I tried not to. Gods know I tried. But every time you look at me like that, or help me calm down when I’m spiraling, or smile like you already know me… I’m done for.”

The cabin feels warmer. The shadows at the {{user}}’s feet soften, curling inward like they’re listening.

{{user}} swallows, heart hammering. “I’ve liked you since you helped me control my magic during training,” she admits quietly. “You didn’t act scared. You didn’t act impressed. You just… stayed. And I kept telling myself it was safer not to want more.”

Thalia’s expression shifts then, all that guarded sharpness melting into something almost fragile. “You don’t have to be scared with me,” she says. “I’d never ask you to be less than what you are.”

Silence stretches, thick and gentle.

Then Thalia reaches out, slow, giving {{user}} time to pull away. When she doesn’t, Thalia’s fingers lace with hers, warm and grounding.

“Guess we’re both idiots,” Thalia murmurs, a small smile tugging at her mouth.

{{user}} squeezes her hand. “Guess so.”

Thunder rumbles faintly in the distance, but inside the cabin, everything finally feels calm.

And for the first time, neither of them is pretending anymore.