𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | pjo

one

who's percy jackson?

LOVE is a funny thing. 

it varies from place to place, person to person, evolving and eroding over generations, being the fuel for those generations—it was the reason so many people were alive, but was also the reason that so many people were dead. 

love could be cruel, plaguing and smothering you at the most inconvenient times with heartache, but could also be as gentle as the sun just before it sets, gilding the edges of your world in gold. 

everyone has been a victim to it.

but to be a child of aphrodite?

perhaps that makes them more vulnerable than everyone else.

— 

lyla propped her pillows up behind her, her sketchbook resting on her lap as she scribbled frantically with a charcoal pencil. the aphrodite cabin was surprisingly empty, which was quite odd, even for today.

but then again, she wasn't about to complain. 

there was an abrupt knock on the door of the cabin, the short rapping sound echoing through the cabin. 

maybe she was about to complain, actually, now that she had to get out of bed and answer the stupid door. 

but also, if she acted like no one was inside...

"lyla, are you there?" grover's voice sounded muffled through the wood, but the apprehension in his tone was clear. 

with a sigh, lyla threw the sketchbook face-down on her bed, and walked over to answer the door. it wasn't like she could leave grover standing, after all. 

"hey, grover." she leaned against the doorframe. "what's up?" 

he scrunched his nose. "nothing much. i was just wondering if you wanna go to the conservatory with me?" he paused for a moment, his expression turning sheepish. "i just don't want to deal with mr. d alone, to be honest." 

at this, lyla was struck with a pang of sympathy. "yeah, i'll go with you," she responded. "it's no problem." 

the two walked in companionable silence towards the conservatory. honestly, lyla felt pretty bad for grover. whatever happened with percy wasn't his fault, especially for a satyr with his age and experience. he was a good person at heart, and a good friend nonetheless. hopefully mr. d wouldn't be too hard on him later—gods know that satyr does not need more people to bludgeon his self esteem.

"peter johnson is here!" a voice suddenly called out, making grover jump. 

peter johnson is a new one. 

"hey, percy, you feeling better?" grover gave him a tentative smile as they approached. 

percy turned towards the two of them. his eyes were a turbulent grey-green as he attempted a smile. "yeah, you could say that." 

his gaze shifted over to her—as his sea green eyes met her light brown ones, the world seemed to stutter to a near stop, shifting a bit on its axis. lyla held her breath, not daring to move, or to break eye contact. has the room always been this warm?

grover grimaced, sensing the suddenly charged air between them. "percy—um—" he elbowed the blond, making them break eye contact. "this is mr d, the camp director, and this—" he gestured to her. "is lyla, daughter of aphrodite. mr d, lyla, this is percy."