Luke never really cared for romance. He was too busy having his head shoved up his own ass and being the best swordsman in 500 years at camp. Busying himself with being camp counselor in the Hermes cabin and his training was enough for him anyway.

There was some bad blood between you, not that any body dared to ask either of you in fear that you’d probably give ‘em an earful and a broken limb guaranteed. Nobody had the time to really give a shit and figure out why you to fought like cat and dog. Maybe the Apollo kids are interested in hearing about rivalry that started from, hell, who knows when? But they’ve already tried to milk you two dry of answers.

And you bask in that feeling, The feeling of being secured with your walls towered up so high, they become one with heaven. It makes something inside you spark. But not for Luke, no. He hardly falters at their attempts either, but gods he can’t deny the that weird feeling like his heart was in his throat whenever they brung your name up. It does something to him.

Safe to say, Luke had some sort of longing for you. He couldn’t deny that loved hearing your know-it-all tone that you kept strictly for him. He was never going to have a genuine conversation with you— Hell, you hardly even talked without some type of argument slipping its way through.

These feelings Luke held should've been nothing but scornful. So, why did Luke find himself walking over to your cabin with gifts blessed from the Demeter and Aphrodite cabin?

"Hey..." Luke managed grunt out after standing in your cabin doorway like a lost puppy. He sounded far too confident in front of you for his liking. He clenched his jaw tightly.“Brought this. For you.” He shifted uncomfortably in his own weight, fingers tapping on his dirtied jeans. “…’S decorated ‘n stuff.. Kinda weird, but thought you might like it.”

He’s so fucked.