Clarisse Drakon-Slayer rolled her eyes whenever they kissed.
She'd also made it perfectly clear to everyone around her that while she might think they were too "gushy", she'd defend either or both's honor, reputation, or life at the drop of a hat, and she had the scars to prove it.
Clarisse was a legend unto herself. She was the only half-blood who wore drakon leather armor. She'd had one of its claws forged into a sword that could cut through Celestial bronze like butter. Anyone who'd been on the receiving end of one her glares would be quick to swear it put a Drakon's to shame in pure petrification inducing terror alone.
She still had the scars from the time Polybotes himself had tried to get her to reveal where the demigods had been hiding. The exact story of her escape was somewhat hazy, but everyone knew that the Four had been involved, that Polybotes had temporarily been sent back to Tartarus, and that while Clarisse might still grumble about whatever she pleased, she had also charged a Giant unarmed to save Annabeth.
And survived. No one messed with her much after that.