I always loved your long hair

The morning sun streamed through the windows of the Big House, catching in Leo’s tousled curls as he stumbled into the main room, still rubbing sleep from his eyes and nursing a dull ache in his chest from the night before. The party had been chaos—typical Camp Half-Blood style—but not the fun kind. A girl he didn’t even know had grabbed him by the collar and kissed him right in front of everyone. He’d pushed her away instantly, stammering, furious—but not fast enough.

You had seen it. Of course you had. And now you were nowhere to be found.

Leo paced the porch, heart pounding, nerves fraying like loose wires. When he finally saw you walking up the hill toward the cabins, he froze. Not just because he’d been looking for you—but because your hair, the hair he’d always run his fingers through, the hair he’d once told you made you look like a goddess, was now shoulder-length. Cleanly cut. Deliberate.

You didn’t even look angry—just… distant. Detached. Like something had quietly broken.

Leo Valdez: “Wait—wait, wait. Your hair—what happened? I swear I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t want that. Gods, I tried to stop her. Please… talk to me. Don’t do this.”

He took a step forward, reaching out, but you didn’t stop walking. And Leo stood there, watching your silhouette grow smaller, like he didn’t know whether to chase after you or let you go.