My knuckles are white with cold wrapped around the hilt of my sword, the training dummies looming like ghostly figures in the dusk. My teeth chatter uncontrollably so I clench them closed, my jaw spasming with the effort. I swing my sword tirelessly until it feels like ice water runs through my veins instead of blood. Time ticks by, and the last remaining campers retire to their warm beds and blankets, but I continue.
When I can't bring myself to practice anymore, I drop my blade, shivering.
As I turn toward the Ares cabin, imagining what my godly father would say if he saw me right now ("Shivering is for the weak!"), I hear leaves crunching and a few twigs snapping to my left. Thinking of the sharp teeth of the cleaning harpies, instincts launch me behind a tree. My battle honed hearing doesn't hear the she-beasts wings, but heavy, male footsteps. I continue to stay behind the trunk, the curiosity evident in the smirk on my face, freezing air momentarily forgotten.

I wait for the footfalls to grow fainter before creeping out and setting off after them.
Silvery moonlight outlines everything in front of me, and an icy breeze gently lifts the bangs off of my forehead, but I continue on indifferent, following the sound of the feet. They stop abruptly and after a moment, I hear a faint splash. I cock an eyebrow and swallow the realization that I left my sword in the training arena. Feeling oddly vulnerable without it, I continue walking towards the eerie sounds and find myself on the dock of the canoeing lake. A narrow plane of moonlight illuminates a shadowy figure disappearing under the water briefly before a black haired head resurfaces.
Its Percy. He turns and sees me watching him and jumps, as do I as his emerald eyes gleam in the silver light. I blame my start on the cold, and the flutter in my stomach on exhaustion. He smirks bashfully and runs his fingers through his soaked locks.

"You caught me." He holds his hands above the water in mock surrender. I can just see the curves of his collar bone in the dark, and I back away a step. He looks around before pulling himself up on the dock, seemingly trying not to make any noise. He's wearing red and blue plaid shorts, and water drips off his arms. I stop myself from staring at his chest, surprised at how comfortable he looks even though he should have hypothermia by now.

"Nice undies, Jackson." I quip in a voice that doesn't sound like my own. He smiles and our eyes meet.

"Care to join me?"

"I'm good." I say, with what I hope is a contemptuous nod. "I, uh, I don't really swim." He cocks his head to the side in confusion, making water droplets rain on the dock. "You know, Jackson. It's pretty late. Maybe the cleaning harpies want to have a dip with you."

"And maybe they want to have a quick sparring session with you, Miss La Rue." He jokes. I roll my eyes halfheartedly before turning away.

"Whatever, Jackson." As I begin to walk back up to the cabins, I feel arms wrapped around me from behind, soaking wet arms. I gasp and attempt to free myself. He's going to jump off the dock and take me with him. I start to shout out but then my stomach drops and frosty water seeps through my t-shirt. He releases me and falls away, laughing. I can feel my heart racing and I fight off tears. My feet struggle to find the bottom, and I fall under the surface, accidentally inhaling water. My throat and nose on fire, I feel him grab the sides of my arms again, supporting me. The laughter is gone and he looks worried.

"You moron! When I said I don't swim, I mean that I can't!" I cough violently. "I'm... I'm afraid of the water, ok?! There, I said it! Happy now?!" I struggle to get back to the dock, but his grip on me is too firm. "Let go of me, Percy!" A small sob escapes me and my tired body gives out, and I go tense. Breathing heavily, I bring myself to look at him. He keeps a gentle hold on my arms and brings us to a spot where my toes comfortably find the mucky bottom.

Once I regain a bit of strength, I try to wiggle free of him again and get back to shore. Panic prickles my skin, mixing with goose bumps. I hear him calmly shushing me.

"Clarisse. It's ok, it's ok. I won't let you go. I promise. I'll never let you go." His oath reaches my ears and calms me a bit, but the panic surging through my veins makes me continue to shake violently. Sobs escape me as I shudder and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block our reality. I want to be brave. I need to be brave.

Forcing myself to open my eyes, I put my shivering arms around his neck and kiss him on the mouth, leaning against him both for warmth and comfort. He responds tentatively at first before putting his arms protectively around my back. After a few moments, we pull away for air, but I'm still breathless. However, the water doesn't seem as cold, or as threatening with his arms around me. I lean my damp forehead against his and laugh, as my heart rate soon gets back to normal.

"If you ever tell anyone I'm afraid of the water, I'll run you through with my spear." He laughs lightly and we stay pressed together, catching our breaths.

After we emerge from the water, he picks up a garment from the base of a tree: a flannel shirt that he must have left here before going swimming. He drapes it around my shoulders, and wraps his arm around me again. Suddenly, as though a sponge went over my body, I'm dry and considerably much warmer.
"Little perk of being the son of Poseidon." He whispers in my ear. I shake my head as he walks me back to my cabin.