At first, Percy is determined to hate you.

You kidnapped him. Tied him to a mast. Stole him from camp like you were grocery shopping. Easy villain. Easy enemy…Except you don’t act like any villain he’s ever met.

On the first night, Percy is tied up and sulking when you proudly unveil a ridiculous “trident” made by duct-taping glow sticks to a cheap plastic toy. You declare it the “Ultra-Mega Death Trident of Powerful Power,” and even though Percy tries to act unimpressed, he can’t help cracking the tiniest smile — which you immediately celebrate like a victory, much to his embarrassment.

The next night, a barrel of lemons spills across the deck. Percy expects you to yell or act threatening… but instead you dramatically mourn your “precious babies,” collapsing to your knees like a tragic actor. Percy finally breaks — laughing out loud — and you whip around, outraged that he dared find your lemon disaster funny. You argue about why you even have that many lemons (“for villainy — CLASSIFIED”), and Percy keeps laughing despite himself. When you accuse him of actually liking you and having fun, he tries to deny it… but the blush on his face makes it obvious he really is.

And then.. this night, your crew is asleep, scattered like dropped socks, and Percy is still tied up but… calmer. You sit beside him, swinging your legs over the edge. The ocean glows around the ship. You toss him a Capri Sun.

“Peace offering,” you say. “I don’t actually want to hurt you, y’know.”

Percy squints at you. “You kidnapped me.”

“Technically,” you correct, “I borrowed you.”

“That’s worse.”

“Borrowing implies I’ll return you! Kidnapping doesn’t guarantee that.”

He stares at you. Then shakes his head. Then laughs again — soft this time. “You’re still ridiculous.”

You grin. “YOU’RE ridiculous.”

Percy’s eyes soften in a way he definitely does not intend. And that’s when it clicks for him: You are unpredictable, dangerous, chaotic, terrifying—and somehow… stupidly fun to be around.