When he arrived at the Roman Camp, he didn't remember anything. Well, nothing except for her. Annabeth. She was the only thing that he remembered. He knew that she was important. More important then any other normal person he might know. He tried and tried to remember her, hoping that one day all of his memories would come flooding back. But no matter how many times he tried, nothing would ever happen. It was like she was the one thing he needed to remember, as if his life depended on it. For some reason whenever some girl flirted with him, and he flirted with her, he immediately felt like he was committing a crime. It was like his mind and soul were hers. She occupied every thought and influenced every decision. He was hers. Whether he knew her or not.