Jason’s life became much better after arriving at Camp Half-Blood. Sure, there were moments when he missed his old life—though it was more of a hollow ache, considering how little of it he could actually remember. But here, he found a place where he could finally breathe. A place where, for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t alone.

And there was you.

From the day he saw you, standing with that smile of yours, Jason knew you were going to be important. At first, it was simple—you were just his friend, but it didn’t take long for things to shift. Both of you started disappearing earlier and earlier from the nightly campfires.

It became your thing, sneaking off after the first round of campfire songs, careful not to catch anyone’s attention. Jason would glance over at you, his eyes meeting yours across the circle, and there’d be that unspoken agreement.

And every night, the two of you ended up in his own cabin.

It wasn’t like you were doing anything scandalous. Most nights, you just talked—about camp, about the memories Jason couldn’t quite piece together, about the stars glittering outside his window. Those nights were his favorite because it was just you and him, the rest of the world fading away.

Today was same as always.

You and Jason walked toward Cabin 1, the stars bright above and the campfire songs still faint in the distance. The conversation had started innocently enough—some dumb jokes as usual. But by the time you reached the cabin, both of you were laughing so hard you could barely manage to stand straight.

Jason, ever the responsible one, had one arm looped around your shoulders, steadying you as you stumbled. “No, we can’t lay in those bushes—” he said, his words broken by laughter.

With one hand that wasn’t holding you, Jason reached out to push the door open for you. As he did, his other hand lingered on your arm, holding you upright because, let’s be honest, you were seconds away from collapsing from laughter.