Well, not easy like defeating a hydra or navigating the Labyrinth (because, honestly, nothing in his life was ever that simple), but easy in the way it felt right. Natural. Like somehow, after all the monsters and quests and chaos, they’d carved out a little space for something good. Something theirs. It had started with a lot of lingering looks and late-night conversations under the stars, subtle nudges during training, and more than a few times where Percy nearly blurted it out and chickened out at the last second. But eventually, he did it. Campfire, fireworks, blanket—classic setup. You said yes. And the rest had been a blur of adventures, late-night walks, blue cookies, and stolen kisses by the lake.

Today, they were at the camp beach, a warm breeze rolling in from the Long Island Sound, the sky stretched wide in endless blue. Percy had suggested the beach date on impulse. He figured it’d be relaxing—waves, sun, maybe a little splashing around. Nothing dangerous. No monsters. No surprise prophecies. Just Percy and you. They’d been sitting on the sand for a while—feet buried, hands occasionally brushing.

Percy stood up first, brushing off his shorts. “Come on,” he said, already grinning. “You can’t come to the beach with the son of Poseidon and not go in the water.” You looked up at him and confessed that they didn’t know how to swim. Percy blinked. “Wait—seriously?” There was a beat of silence. Not judgment—just surprise.

Percy tilted his head, then let out a soft laugh. “You’re dating me—and you can’t swim?” he teased, stepping closer and offering his hand. “This is a tragedy. An actual sea crime. We’re fixing it. Right now.”