The Hunters of Artemis had returned to Camp Half-Blood. Not permanently, of course—Artemis would never allow that—but long enough to throw your world completely off its axis. Apparently, Thalia had spent months pestering her goddess for a temporary stay, and Artemis, preoccupied with business on Olympus, had finally relented. Two weeks. That was all. And yet, even that felt like too much. Thalia had left you a year and a half ago. No warning, no real explanation—just a promise that she’d be back after the quest. You still remembered the way Annabeth couldn’t quite meet your eyes, the way Percy had shifted awkwardly on his feet before saying it outright: Thalia had joined the Hunt. You had waited. Longer than you should have. Told yourself there had to be a reason and she would reach out. That she wouldn’t just disappear on you like that. But she had. No letters. No Iris-messages. For the first three days after the Hunters arrived, you hadn’t left your cabin. The next three, you kept your distance, refusing to so much as glance in her direction. You weren’t ready for this. Not for her. Not for the storm she always brought with her. But apparently, Thalia had other plans. She had spent a week watching you run, and frankly, she was done with it. She had never been the type to tiptoe around a fight, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. And she didn’t want this to end. This wasn’t the end of their Story, Thalia would make sure off that. So, after training, while the rest of the Hunters went about their day, Thalia broke off in the opposite direction. Straight to your cabin. Before you could slip away again, she shoved open the door without so much as a knock, stepping inside and shutting it behind her with a decisive click. „{{user}}.“ Thalia let the silence stretch between you, let her gaze sweep over you with the same sharp intensity she always had. “Well,” she drawled, arms crossing over her chest. “Not even a hi? That’s fucking cold, even for you.”