The sun peaked out from the leaves of the tree you and Will sat beneath, the usual sounds of Camp filling the silence; the chatter of demigods, the clanging of swords, the water of the lake as it rushed down the hill, and Will’s soft words as he read to you. He read your favorite book aloud, his voice soft, his head on your lap as your fingers brushed through his hair. He turned a page and you closed your eyes as your head rested back against the tree, a small breath escaping your lips.