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When Chiara had first met Damien she thought he was an absolute asshole. He was annoying, obnoxious, and pretty violent—and he was a son of Nemesis; a goddess who didn’t really like her mother. How was she supposed to like someone like that? It had become very well-known at camp that the two hated each other, they were arguing almost non-stop.
But then one night she had left her cabin—being careful to keep an eye out at the sky, lest she wants the cleaning Harpies to eat her alive—and found Damien sitting on the beach looking at the stars in the night sky. She hadn’t known what to do when she saw him, it had felt weird seeing him look so peaceful, his usual scowl not present on his face. After a bit of contemplative silence, she joined him, and the two enjoyed the comfortable silence blanketing them as they watched the stars twinkle in the sky.
And then it had become routine. The two would sit on the beach, watching the stars or the sea in silence—it stayed like that for a few weeks until one night Damien instigated conversation.
“Do you know any constellations?” he whispered, barely audible, and if the two hadn’t been huddled close together she would have never heard him.
“No, do you?” she whispered back, watching him from the corner of her eye.
He chuckled softly, a melodic sound that made her cheeks flush red, “a few. My father loved the stars.”
Silence lingered after that, she stared at Damien—who had a nostalgic look on his face—and her cheeks seemed to redden even more. It was at that moment that she realized that Damien was rather pretty. His gold eyes—inherited from his mother, no doubt—looked silver in the moonlight. His ebony hair looked more like midnight blue, and his pale skin shined in the light. Her breath hitched, tan cheeks heating up as the sea breeze brushed through her hair.
“What was he like?” Chiara muttered hesitantly, not sure if she should pry on something as fragile as childhood. Damien turned his head to stare into her eyes and the two maintained eye contact until he ripped his gaze towards the waves.
“He was... he was funny,” Damien said, mouth turned down in a frown as he gazed at the stars—maybe wondering what secrets they held. “Passionate about his hobbies, loved telling me stories about the stars.”
Chiara hummed thoughtfully, “he sounds great.”
She jumped when she heard Damien laugh—and the sound felt like a melody in her ears. She turned to look at him, raising a brow in question as Damien’s laughter died down.
“I miss him,” it’s only three words, and yet Damien sounded so vulnerable saying them, Chiara frowns before she grabs one of his hands and lets their fingers tangle together, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. They stay like that until the sun begins to rise and the two remove themselves from the other’s side and head back to their respective cabins.
Chiara doesn’t get any sleep that day, her mind revisiting that vulnerable moment that the two had. That’s when she realizes that she may have a slight crush on Damien White—someone she previously thought she hated. She decides to not dwell on her feelings because if she does then her feelings would get the best of her.
Their nights at the beach become more frequent as time passes, and Chiara can’t help but hope that Damien may have a crush on her as well. It’s a stupid and bold thought, a thought that keeps her awake at night when the two aren’t at the beach. Her feelings feel like a big burden on her shoulders, occupying her every thought.
Should I skip archery lessons today?—Damien looks pretty in the sunlight, too—ugh-!
She knows that she should probably distance herself from Damien and allow these feelings to fade away so she can think of more platonic things, but she can’t. She enjoys talking to him, enjoys secretly glancing at him under the moonlight. Enjoys him in general.
She huffed, idly fidgeting with the hem of her Camp Half-Blood t-shirt as she watched Kayla hit a bullseye. Her mind was racing and the missing campers—Cecil and Miranda—were not calming her nerves. After the first camper had been declared missing her brain—stupid, stupid brain—had conjured up a scenario that left a weird taste in her mouth. The idea that Damien could go missing wouldn’t leave her mind and she didn’t know what she’d do if he did go missing.
“Chiara are you okay?” her head shot up to look at Kayla—who had stopped practicing to look at her with a concerned frown.
She nodded, “Yeah, I am. Why?”
“Nothing, you just looked like you had a lot on your mind,” Kayla said, giving Chiara a reassuring smile before going back to her archery practice. Chiara sighed, rubbing her temples to ease her nerves before gazing at the beach. If Damien did disappear—and that’s a big if—then maybe telling him how she feels will help her calm down. She hums to herself. Maybe if she had enough courage, that is.
That night she sneaks out of her cabin, the path to their designated hang-out spot practically engraved into her mind. When she got there Damien was already waiting for her, staring at the ocean’s waves as she sat down beside him. The two were quiet, mostly because Chiara wasn’t sure how to organize her train of thought. Everything was so jumbled up she wasn’t sure how to start.
They stayed silent as the night continued, and soon enough a spark of courage lit up in her chest. She turned her head, facing Damien and staring into his liquid gold eyes.
“Damien,” she whispered, earning his attention. He hummed in question, meeting her eyes, “I- I want to say something.”
The boy raised a brow, “okay, say it.”
She inhaled sharply, exhaling through her mouth, and praying to any gods listening that luck may be on her side—how ironic, a distant part of her brain supplies, the daughter of the goddess of luck wanting luck to be on her side.
“Okay, listen. I’ve been- been thinking about the disappearances,” she said, her mouth felt like lead, but she persisted. “And... I don’t know what I’d do if- if you disappeared like that,” she averted his gaze as her cheeks flushed, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that... Damien, I like you; as in, I think I might even love you and I don't know what I'd do without you.”
Silence. She looked at Damien, searching his eyes to find disgust or something that told her that he didn’t feel the same, but all she found were golden eyes blown wide in surprise. His pale skin heated up, turning a rosy pink that completed his complexion almost perfectly. She waited in anticipation for a sign—anything.
The silence almost felt defining until finally she got her answer—just, not in words. Damien lunged forward and kissed her. She cupped his face, deepening the kiss. The kiss felt like it took an eternity and no time at all when they finally parted, panting heavily. Chiara felt a surge of relief wash over her, Damien liked her, too. She wasn’t alone in her needless pining. She smiled, looking into his eyes with so much affection.
“I love you, too, Lucky,” Damien mumbled, cheeks proceeding to get redder as she giggled like a middle schooler. She couldn’t help it, for months she’d been telling herself that Damien only saw them as friends and that she’d never get a chance to date him. Now, she was so fucking happy to be wrong. Chiara leaned in to kiss him for a second time, this one was shorter but no less thrilling.
The two cuddled together, watching the stars, but Chiara couldn’t stop herself from staring at Damien—and not even trying to hide it, she grinned so wide her cheeks hurt but she couldn’t care less. They stayed like that until the first break of light in the sky and kissed one last time before leaving back to their cabins.