PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS
WARNINGS!
none! it's short and full of fluff. AND!! i love him?!! <3 miss him too tbh.

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The older that Luke got, the more time he liked to spend alone. Don't get him wrong; he loved people (being a son of Hermes and all), and his friends - but sometimes it was all a bit too much to handle. Moments alone allowed him to recalibrate.

During the Winter was when he got time for that the most. Everyone went home for school and studies, but he just remained. All the time he didn't spend going to lessons and sleeping, was mostly spent trying to distract himself with training and finding a quiet place to sit. He had to admit that he was lonely. He couldn't not. Even with all of his half brothers and sisters, he never felt fully himself around the others at camp, and he pondered that a lot. Even though they were all demigods, Luke had been through darker stuff than a lot of them - on quests, and in his personal life.

That was, until you spoke to him.

Luke found that with you, everything came a little bit easier. He didn't have to be alone to know he was safe, and free of judgement. He didn't have recharge his battery or get away from the crowd. He could be with you for the whole day, and when you parted he'd still feel disappointed, because not even hours upon hours with you felt like enough for him.

At that moment, you were both in your room, the curtains drawn half way, but it didn't matter because sunlight poured through the white material anyways, lighting you up where you lay. Your sheets were floral (and they matched your dress perfectly, he noticed fleetingly), and your head was lain softly on your pillow, your arms propped to hold up the book you were reading. Luke sat in a big comfy arm chair across from you, admiring the scene before him, filled with yellow light and brightness. His heart felt like it was glowing in his chest, warm and buzzing with a fondness he'd come to recognize around you.

Your lemonade was starting to drip with condensation where it sat on your night stand, but you didn't notice, as you were enraptured in your novel, and Luke couldn't help but let a small smile cross his face.

Your eyes flickered up from the browning pages before you, connecting with his blue ones that already seemed to be staring at you with a silent twinkle. Your cheeks tinted with a pink hue, and his smile only grew in reply. "What're you looking at?" You asked, and it was meant to come out intimidating, but you were in far too much of a good mood for that. Instead, it sounded fond, and decidedly nice by Luke's standards.

He chuckled at the thought that you couldn't even make a threat sound harsh, shaking his head as he replied definitively, "Nothing, nothing."

Luke knew you wouldn't just accept that as his answer, and as he looked across your pouting features, he guessed he was right. You managed to look pretty no matter your expression, especially with the dappled afternoon light on you. It reminded Luke of all the days you'd spent together at camp, and how many he wished were yet to come.

"C'mon," You told him, holding out your hand to him nonchalantly, as if it didn't mean everything to him to slip his hand into yours, and have you tug him towards your bed gently. He sat on your sheets, closer than his beating heart would have liked and further than your hopes would have enjoyed. He wouldn't look at you, only your hands where they lay, still joined on your floral bedding. All you could see where the metaphorical cogs turning in his brain. Little did you know that he was just trying to savor the feeling like he'd never get it again. You held his hand more than occasionally, but he always cherished your touch. Life as a demigod was dangerous and deadly, and comfort was few and far between. He didn't know when next someone would hold him, or if he'd die before he ever really got to kiss you.

And suddenly, his eyes flickered up to look at your lips, clouded with a hazy twinkle that didn't disappear when he met your vision. Maybe he should have been embarrassed at being caught, but he couldn't seem to care as he saw a rosy blush blossom through your cheeks, his chest aching with a feeling for you that he couldn't begin to explain. He didn't know what love was and he wasn't sure this was it, but his head was spinning and all he wanted to do was kiss you more than anything.

That was the first time he'd ever thought that.

Well, not really. Not technically. He'd always thought you were beautiful. In a flash he would picture himself with you, kissing beneath the stars. Maybe he'd even had a dream where he finally spoke to you. Either way, that was before he'd ever really gotten to know you. And the entire time he was doing that, he was too caught up in you to even think about that. But now, sitting in front of you in a place you felt so comfortable - in a place that you'd invited him into - it was all he could think about.

"Something must be on your mind . . ." You prompted after a moment of silence. Luke had always been a fairly quiet guy, and he liked to speak only when he had something he thought was important to say. For the past few days he'd been looking at you more than speaking with you, but you liked that he was thoughtful, so you let it slide. But now more than ever it felt like he was holding something in.

You watched as his eyes met with yours, and even though they were blue, they felt warm and comfortable to you. His scar begging for you to lift up a hand and trace it with the pad of your fingers.

"You know me too well, (Y/n)," Your name felt soft and loving on his lips, and you just so loved the way his voice sounded no matter what he was saying. During Camp Meetings your ears would perk up when he spoke, admiring its deepness, and his confidence.

His lips were parted and he was so close you almost didn't know what to do. You became hyper aware as his unoccupied hand moved to rest against your thigh. You couldn't help but flush, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked away from him, trying not to let on how flustered you were by him and his words.

Being away from camp seemed to make Luke bolder. Not only that, but he seemed more sure of himself. Camp made things difficult to gain perspective on a lot of things, and being away from the other half bloods, training, and demigod life actually felt nice. Even if he knew it wouldn't last. You simply weren't born for that and the both of you knew it.

Ever since he'd arrived at your house he'd had a lot of time to think, and things felt a lot clearer than ever before. He didn't know if it was the country air or if he was going crazy, but he actually felt better than he had in months. And he knew you were one of the reasons.

You made everything easy.

"You don't have to tell me," You shook your head slightly, and his heart almost broke at how much you seemed to care about him. He wasn't sure if he deserved it, but for the first time in a long time, he felt okay accepting something like that.

For some reason he didn't feel as if he had to hold back at all as he spoke, eyes not shifting from yours, "I care about you a lot, you know that, right?" He asked, and maybe it sounded abrupt and out of context, but he wanted to make sure you knew. He was trying to find a way to say it but nothing had felt right until then. Luke had cared for you from the moment you'd become anything close to friends. Since then, his feelings had only grown by tenfold, and you seemed to enjoy his company too. You always asked him how he was, and hung back to walk him to his cabin after the bon fire. You'd furrow your eyebrows and your voice would lilt in concern and he almost wasn't sure it was all worth it for him. But he couldn't control you.

At least, he wanted you to know that you meant something to him. That he appreciated everything you did for him. And that he would do anything for you. He'd drop dead tomorrow if it meant that you'd live. In fact, he'd thought about it more than he'd care to admit. He'd gladly give him selves up for any of his siblings, but with you it was different. He wanted to protect you just like he'd protected Annabeth and Thalia - and that, he thought - meant he must have at least cared about you a hell of a lot. And he was willing to tell you that at the very least.

Despite the intensity of his gaze, and your heart thumping in your chest, you replied easily, "Of course, Luke. I care about you, too." Your free hand went to rest on his hand that lay on your leg, your fingers curling into his palm and giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. He'd always thought that your eyes were kind and inviting, and in that moment he almost felt drawn to you, leaning closer without a thought.

You smelt really good, and for some reason, Luke simply allowed himself to be intoxicated by you. As of right then, you were the light, and he was the moth.

His eyes flickered down to your mouth, and you simply admired his eyelashes, and how pretty his scar looked up close. You almost had to laugh at the irony; the fact that your father was the God of male beauty, and yet, Luke was the most handsome man you'd ever encountered. The thought alone made you blush, but you didn't think the warmness of your cheeks made a difference when you were already so blatantly flustered. Yet you couldn't pull away - you were entranced.

You could barely take it anymore, and you were sure you were reading the signs all wrong but it was all too obvious. He must have wanted to kiss you and your mind was spinning a mile a minute and you weren't sure how you got to this so quickly. A minute ago you were still reading your book.

"Can I kiss you . . .?" He asked, and you almost thought your ears were ringing. Without a beat, you nodded your head, eyes wide.

And then his lips were on yours.

His hand immediately moved up to tentatively hold the side of your face, humming gently as he felt you kiss back, lips just as soft as he'd imagined. Your hands braced themselves on his chest, sliding down slightly as his mouth moved against yours, loving and needy and everything you'd hoped it'd feel like when it finally happened. And it was happening. You felt yourself smile into the kiss, and then he couldn't help but grin too, breaking away as you averted your gaze.

His eyes followed you, mesmerized as you blushed and beamed to yourself in reaction to him. When you finally looked back at him, you held a sweet expression, and all he could think about was having his lips against yours again.

"I can't believe you did that," You laughed, hiding your face in your hands - and he knew he should've been worried about that reply, but he knew how you meant it.

He loved to see you happy, and his heart practically burst at the fact that him kissing you did that. When you smiled, light practically beamed from your face - and he was sure it had something to do with Apollo, but he tended to ignore that in favour of thinking that it was all just you. Everything was you.

Before he could think, your arms were being thrown around his neck, and you were kissing him again. And as your lips moved in synch, Luke decided that he could be lost in your forever, drawing you into his lap from where you sat across from him, bodies pressed together. His stomach burned with a feeling all too familiar around you - he'd felt it every time you'd share an accidental touch while alone, or when you'd get tired enough to express affection without consequence. Your breath caught in your throat as his hands slid up tucked beneath your shirt, palms against the bare of your back. You pulled away, and his lips chased yours, causing you to chuckle at his antics. His eyebrows were drawn together and he almost looked like a lost puppy - a far cry from his usual stoic persona that everyone knew. You sighed in contentment, hands running through his hair as you shifted to get more comfortable in his lap.

When you looked back to him, there was a cocky smile building at the corner of his mouth; realization beginning to dawn on him that you'd just kissed him almost as desperately as you he did you, and something about it satisfied him to no end. He wasn't sure that you were even going to say yes to him, but looking at the way you were on top of him; he was so glad he was wrong.

"Don't look so proud of yourself," You told him, and it came out quieter than intended. Maybe you wanted him to hopelessly and undeniably in love with you. Maybe.

He removed his hands from his place on you to hold up in surrender, and you tried not to feel disappointed at his lack of touch. He chuckled at you, "Okay . . . But I feel like I am."