Rain was pounding the windows of your family’s apartment, sliding down the glass in fat droplets.

It was a mid-October rain- Thalia’s favourite.

She was watching the clouds and the rain and the city as she laid in your bed.

You were sitting next to her, watching Brooklyn 99 quietly on your iPad.

The daughter of Zeus’s arm was around your shoulders, her throat occasionally rubbing your arm.

It was dark, about ten o’clock, the last time she checked. The tattooed Demigod was content. She was sipping some warm Chamomile tea, she was with her favourite and only girl, and it was raining.

You leaned harder against her, kissing her jaw sweetly before yawning.

Thalia had come over, she had taken Estelle to the park with you and Percy, she had stayed for dinner, and now she was here.

The girl’s eyes scanned your childhood bedroom, noting all the posters, Polaroids, and drawings that covered the walls.

There was Stone Temple Pilots, Ghostbusters, The Outsiders, Across the Spiderverse, Arctic Monkeys, Doja Cat, Queen, The Smiths, The Last of Us, The Avro Arrow, Arcane, Life is Strange, Billie Eilish, Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan.

You had… diverse interests.

But she liked that about you. It made you interesting to talk to.

Thalia reached over and took one of your earbuds out of your ears, kissing right above it and whispering, "Είσαι ο ήλιος μου, τα αστέρια μου, η καταιγίδα μου, η ζωή μου."

In English, You are my sun, my stars, my storm, my life.

Thalia Grace loved the rain. She loved you, too.

More than herself.