the knock came soft but familiar, knuckles brushing wood like he already knew he didn’t need permission. hearing it before you even saw him, the quiet scrape of fingers against the window frame, the pause that always came right before percy jackson did something reckless. when you turned, he was already there, pushing your cabin window up with more enthusiasm than finesse.

your siblings barely looked up. they’d learned by now. learned that when he showed up after curfew, smelling like lake water and trouble, it was their cue to grab jackets, excuses, anywhere else to be. the door shut behind them, probably going to their own boyfriends cabins, laughter fading, leaving the cabin warm and dim and yours.

he rolled onto the floor clumsily, knees knocking into the bed frame, nearly knocking over a stack of books. sneaking had never been his strong suit. subtlety either. he laughed under his breath like gravity had personally betrayed him, then looked up at you like it was all worth it.

percy pushed himself up and crossed the room in two steps, offering you a lopsided grin as he handed you a small box of chocolates, the paper crinkled and imperfect, like it had been shoved into a pocket and protected with his life. where the hell did he get these? camp didn’t exactly stock romantic contraband.

"you're not gonna eat them?" he asked you, not even giving you a chance to breathe.

you knew why he was asking. you always knew. half the time when he brought you food, it wasn’t generosity — it was strategy. he wanted you to open it immediately so he could steal half of it with that innocent look he practiced in the mirror. you rolled your eyes, but your mouth betrayed you with a smile.

eventually, you ate some chocolates. the sweetness melted slow, rich and dark, lingering on your tongue. percy didn’t take a single one. instead, he watched you like it was the most important thing in the world, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands.

"what do they taste like?"

his eyes flicked up to yours, curiosity soft and unguarded. then, before the thought could fully form, before you could answer, he shifted closer.

"actually, let me just.."

he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, warm and familiar, his hands bracing at your sides. the kiss deepened naturally, unhurried, his tongue exploring your mouth like he was trying to memorize the feeling, the sweetness, you.

"mmm.. you taste like chocolate."

he stayed there, forehead resting against yours, breath uneven, smiling like he’d discovered something sacred.

"i love it."