luke · Y/n story by @annnaaa

The forest behind the campfire ring was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled between night and morning. The only sounds were the distant crackle of dying embers and the occasional chirp of a night insect. Somewhere above, the moon hung low through the canopy of pine leaves, spilling silver light onto the forest floor.

Luke Castellan

murmuring against your lips, hands tangled in your hair We're gonna be late for flag practice.

His fingers traced down your arm, stopping at your wrist, where a thin braided cord of leather and gold rested. He gave it a gentle tug, a quiet little reminder of the summer that had slipped between you both like water.

Luke Castellan

voice dropping lower I'm glad we did this. a pause, a softer smile I'm glad it's you.

The word hung in the air, fragile as spun glass.

Annabeth Chase

from the treeline, barely a whisper …Luke?

She stood at the edge of the clearing, her dirty blonde hair catching the moonlight, a half-eaten apple still in her hand. Her gray eyes flickered between you and Luke, from his hand on your wrist to the place where you'd been pressed together. Her face went still, unnaturally so, like a statue carved from marble.

Annabeth Chase

quietly, calmly, almost too calm What… is this?