Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and associated properties belong to Rick Riordan.
Here Comes the Sun
She's everywhere he looks. Not that he needs to squint; she's just there. From the flowers of the fields to the branches of every tree, from the rivers and the brooks and the pond with a bit of sand too small to call a beach. From the pier by the actual lake and from every cabin that has some space, he sees her - eyes, nose, lips, mouth; every centimetre of her face. After all, she's been to all these places. She's in every moment, whether it's crying, laughing, screaming, jumping, hugging, hurting, or running. The traces of her float all across the camp, and he loves it. He doesn't have to go anywhere - she's everywhere.
If this is what love is like, he never wants to let it slip by. Because she's not just everywhere, she's everything. Well, not literally. She's not the sun; she's not the moon. They have a gravity and splendor to them that no person could ever match. She's not the seas or the skies that have a vastness and freedom to them that open up the human heart. But all the same, she's much like them in that there's nothing that could ever take her place. Sure, she isn't the sun or any other star, but there's gravity between him and her and she pulls him like she's the center of his universe. She's not as broad and infinite as the unknown and the unexplored, but there are sides to her that only he knows and things that he hasn't seen yet that paint a picture unimaginable and incomparable to things like the oceans or the heavens.
That's not to say that she's perfect. Or that life is perfect because she's in his. Or that they're perfect together. But there's something magical about her that makes him feel just as much. He doesn't know what it is. He doesn't quite care. He just knows that she's here and there and when he squeezes her hand, she laughs and smiles at him in a way that no one else does. It's a special kind of sharing, where she divulges her secrets, her heart, mind, and soul, to him without words.
He doesn't know what he's done to deserve her but he'll never let her go. That's why he jumped into the abyss. Without her, he has no idea who he would be. Without her, he has no clue where to look. Without her, the world just isn't the same. So wherever she goes, he'll follow - even if it takes him past the gates and into Hell proper.
She's everything he didn't ask for but could. She's all the things that his mother told him to look for in a girl and a bunch of things that she definitely told him not to seek. But that's fine with him. She hits enough marks to pass and he's never been much of a star student; more than half sits just right with him. There aren't enough gold stars he could give or earn to describe just how fine she is and there will never be anything or anyone who can pin her down, even though he has countless pictures of the two of them pinned to his wall in his small Manhattan bedroom. Every image lights up and disperses the miasma of grey that threatens to overtake him, and from time to time, even when he stares at the walls for too long, he thinks instead of the cold steel in her eyes whenever she's made a decision.
That fierceness lends itself to her very core and he likes how much she loves that part of herself. She never gives up. She doesn't fight fire with water; she lights another spark to make an even bigger flame. She doesn't back down when she's challenged, she retreats to find another angle of attack. And that's hot; she's an unyielding curl of energy that keeps seeking until she finds a way through. Even in the darkest of times, she never let the heavy thoughts eat her from inside out, even when every step was in pain. Because when she trudges on, it's like there's a humming in his ears and a fresh tinge of sunlight. So no matter what happens, he knows that when she's there, it means "Here comes the sun."