WPOV

Okay, maybe I'm weak against him, because apparently all it took for me to forgive him for this whole mess was an attempt to bring me flowers and a smooth remark. I still can't really believe I'm inviting him in tonight—it doesn't even make sense. It's the middle of the night, and I'm pretty sure less than an hour ago, I was extremely upset with him.

But there's something in the way he holds himself—it's like he's convinced I'm about to scream at him.

I thought you didn't want me, he had said. That's ridiculous. He's the one who ran from me. I think I'll probably have to teach him what communication looks like. Maybe no one has ever shown him.

My cabin is a lot of yellow, and I love it. It would be nice if the cabin was a mix of bright colors, like some pop art masterpiece, but I'll settle for yellow. Some of the cabins that have darker colors, like all the navy in the Poseidon cabin, seem a bit depressing to live in.

I glance at Nico as I lead him quietly down a hall. The Apollo cabin soundproofed our common area, so Nico and I should be free to watch a movie as loudly as we want without waking up my siblings. He's fidgeting nervously when I open the door to the common area and make a gesture that says, After you.

He swallows nervously and walks in.

Technically, we aren't allowed to have televisions in our cabins, but Apollo—er, I mean Dad—gave it to us under some kind of magic spell so we aren't slaughtered by a Minotaur while watching Gilmore Girls. There were a couple of bean bag chairs in the corners of the room, plus a long yellow couch and a reclining chair. The couch is ours, but the rest of the seating was from trading with other cabins—most of the cabins get tired of the same old furniture eventually, so sometimes we send representatives to try to barter. The only cabin that we normally don't trade with is Hermes's—they have a reputation for unfair trades. Only the most talented representative can get a fair deal out of them.

Nico doesn't seem quite sure what to do. I close the door behind me so my siblings can sleep soundly.

"What do you want to watch?" I ask, smiling.

"Oh, uh—" His eyes are wide, as if I just placed the fate of the world on his shoulders. "I'm good with anything. You pick." I try not to swoon over the Italian accent—it takes a massive amount of effort.

"Okay, then, if you say so," I tease, grabbing the remote and claiming my favorite spot on the couch. I pat the spot next to me, and Nico takes the cue to join me. He sits at a respectable distance away from me, which is a little disappointing, but we have the rest of our lives to work on that.

I put on The Office, and Nico frowns. "Will, that's a show, not a movie—"

I cut off his negativity with a kiss to his cheek, and he shuts up immediately. He's now very pink. "Oh—uh—maybe a show is actually a good idea."

I laugh, and the first episode plays.

-*-*-*-*-

I wake up with the television still playing. Nico is lying horizontally on the couch, and I'm resting on top of him, my face in the crook of his neck. I'm vaguely aware that I should probably feel embarrassed, but after the events of the past twenty-four hours, I kind of just want to lie here forever.

Nico looks peaceful like this—not nearly as anxious. His hair looks soft—I want to touch it, but that would wake him up, which would be a tragedy.

I pass the time by listening to the calming rhythm of his breathing—it's even and steady and so nice. It takes fifteen more minutes after that for him to finally shift a little—he's awake. I smile at him as he blinks at his surroundings, slowly remembering the events that led to his presence here. And then, slowly, a smile starts to form on his lips.

My heart flutters. This whole being-soulmates-with-Nico thing just keeps getting better and better.

Now that he's already awake, I reach up to touch his hair. His eyes flutter shut again briefly as I run my hand through it, appreciating how soft it is. "You have nice hair," I tell him.

He swallows and whispers, "You have nice everything."

He can't keep saying things like this if he expects me to be coherent around him. I mean, first the comment about being breathless when he saw me, and now this? I think he might be the death of me—a man can only take so many heartfelt compliments before he combusts.

The door to the common area swings open suddenly and loudly, and Annabeth practically falls into the room. "Will, oh my gods, we need you—like, now."

I sit up sharply, and I move so fast, I'm basically flying. Nico is right behind me. I find my shoes and put them on with incredible speed, and then I'm following her as she sprints out of the cabin.

"What happened?" I ask between gasps of breath as we run—my muscles are burning a little from going so fast, and I can hear Nico behind me, a little out of breath.

"It's Percy," Annabeth cries, "Nobody knows how to help—he needs you." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. I can't quite tell where she's leading me—not the infirmary. We pass the amphitheater, and I realize the most likely destination right now is the beach.

Nico has called a couple of skeletons from the earth, which run with us, though they're having a hard time keeping up. "I'll go first—if whatever hurt Percy is still there, I'll fight it off while you get Percy to safety."

If I wasn't so out of breath from running so fast, I would have launched into a spiel about not putting himself in needless danger. But I don't have the breath for that, so instead I settle on, "You could—" Gasp. "—get badly hurt."

"Who cares?" he says, exasperated. "I'm here—" Gasp. "—to protect you!"

Oh, I am so giving him a lesson on self-worth when this is over. "I care!"

We get to the edge of the beach, and we have to stop briefly because there's a gate that locks. It's meant to keep people from sneaking off to the beach at four AM and drowning, but now it's preventing me from actually getting to someone who might need saving. This is awful.

I turn to Nico while Annabeth puts in the code. "You're staying here. I don't want you to be put in danger from this."

With a look of determination on his face, he cups my chin and says, "I'm doing this." And then he does something that I thought I would be the first to do: he kisses me on the lips, and for the very brief moment that he's touching me, I'm lit aflame.

Then he lets go of me and climbs the fence, dropping down on the other side before Annabeth can figure out the code—it must be too early for the demigod access codes to be working. Desperate and frustrated, she grabs a rock from the ground and hits the lock—it breaks open, and she swings the gate open.

I chase after her, still a little dazed from the kiss. I can't believe Nico was able to distract me just by kissing me—how can I keep him safe if I'm too distracted thinking about the heat of his mouth on mine?

There's no time for this right now. I chase after Nico and Annabeth to the shore of Long Beach, where Percy lies, sprawled on a rock with deep, bloody gashes on his leg and abdomen. His forehead is also leaking blood down his face, and he's groaning in pain.

Leo is hunched over him, trying to help, and Percy yells in agony, "Leo, stop touching it! You're making it wor—worse—!"

Annabeth is at his side immediately, pushing Leo off him. Nico keeps his skeletons at the ready and scouts the area for any monsters that might try to attack again. I crouch at Percy's side. "What happened?"

The good news is that if Percy is able to scream in agony, he's not actually as unstable as I thought he was; the bigger problem usually starts to arise when the patient can't scream anymore. Still, I need to get these wounds stitched up before he loses too much blood. I'll need to get him back to the infirmary for that.

"We were fooling around when we played truth or dare, and we dared Percy to summon something from the water, but instead of the nymph he tried to summon, a giant monster came out, beat him up, and went back into the water," said Leo, and although his tone is somewhat teasing, his expression is telling me he's a lot more worried than he lets on. I can't blame him; if something is able to get Percy this badly, it must have been nerve wracking.

Percy is holding the wound on his side with his hand, and through his fingers, I can see there's a strange object sticking out of the wound—but I can't determine what it is while his hand is blocking all but a tiny fraction of it.

"Percy? Would you take your hand away from the wound?" I asked calmly, as he revealed a hooked fang still embedded in his abdomen. My heart bounds—that will be painful to remove. I nod at Annabeth and say, "Help me carry him to the infirmary."

She doesn't hesitate, and neither do I. We manage to haul Percy to the infirmary in record time, Nico watching our backs to make sure the monster doesn't come back. I give Percy the closest bed I can find, and I get to work immediately.

I call for a sibling to help me, and Austin shows up almost immediately with gloves for both of us. We clear everyone else out of the room and cut Percy's shirt off to deal with the fang wound first. Austin finds a sedative while I make sure the area is clean, and soon Percy is passed out. Removing the fang comes first, but he's unstable until we are able to get him stitched up.

There's blood everywhere, and although there's no evidence to suggest it, I have a very bad feeling that this wound is more than it seems.

A/N: 

If you were expecting this chapter to be about Percy's romantic date on the beach where he's smitten with Annabeth, you should know that the past participle of "smite" is "smitten." And "smite" basically means to get brutally attacked, usually by a powerful being. So, the chapter title did not lie to you--he really did get smitten on the beach. Just not in the way you probably expected.

Don't you love false expectations?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you so much for reading and don't forget to let me know what you think!