Luke had on rule: If you see something pretty, you make it yours.

That applied for everything in his life. Objects, titles, people. His own golden law. The thing he bides by everyday. Was he called crazy and stupid, yes. But does that stop him, not a single bit. Stealing was his new safe haven.

No one could really blame him. After all the shit that he’s been through it was just destined. Just like his amazing swordsmanship, he learned to master the art of perfect robbery. Shoplifting, pickpocketing, manipulation. And gods, was he good at it.

Luke walking past a few unsuspecting demigods, grabbing a few pieces of jewelry off their person swiftly without going noticed. He pocketed the gems before turning back forward. When he pivoted, a familiar walking figure. His jaw tightens in annoyance as he recognized them.

You. The only thing he’s failed to make his. For the past years and futile attempts to woo you, he has deemed you his top priority. The priority is? Letting him take you on a date.

Luke has honestly tried everything Aphrodite’s children had to offer. Flowers, cards, poems, he even tried to make a song once. It was pathetic as he called it. You made him feel humbled and he didn’t like it one bit. Call him entitled but he just had to have you. (In a contesting way).

Out of everyone in this camp, you draw him in the most. The shiniest thing in the room. The prettiest thing in the room. Luke would see you walk out your cabin, spar, and on occasion near the Dining Pavilion. His friends called him a stalker. He calls it following your dreams.

Luke jogged towards you, making sure the jewels didn’t fall out his pocket. His hand clasped around your shoulder gently, stopping you in your tracks. Luke walked in front of you with his trademark smile. “Anywhere special you’re headed?” He asked, moving to wrap his arm around you.