NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

thirty: the evening muster.

BROOKLYN WALKED IN the bathhouse to find lots of divulging rooms — some were closed, people's voices talking and laughing on the other side. Others were open.

"Are you gonna get in one of those?" Percy asked from behind her, nodding toward the doors with the voices.

"Ugh. I think I just need to shower alone right now," Brooklyn mumbled, walking over and grabbing a shit ton of towels.

"Aw, you don't want to shower with me?" he gave her a cocky grin, which made her heartbeat speed up. "Good god, do you really need that many towels?"

"Fuck off, Jackson," she rolled her eyes. "It's called living a life of luxury. And after what we've been through, I deserve to have a million towels when I take a shower."

He shrugged, also taking a shit ton of towels. "You make a good point, Hayward."

"I do that sometimes." Brooklyn smiled at him before it faded. "Can I be real for a sec?"

"You can always be real around me," he said it so casually, it made her heart pound as hard as her head was.

"Thanks," she told him. "For, you know, pulling me away from the animal killer or whatever. I mean, I could've handled it myself, but . . . I froze up. And he's just—"

"Creepy," Percy finished for her. "I know. I saw your expression. And I'd be a pretty shitty knight if I didn't protect my princess, huh?"

Brooklyn felt her cheeks heating up, but she blamed it on literally anything else but him. "Yeah, you would be. But . . . thanks again. Seriously."

He smirked at her. "Anything for you, princess."

She rolled her eyes, nudging past him and going into the nearest open door. "Cya," she smirked at him before closing the door.

After a long ass bath, she changed into what was somehow left hanging on her door — a short, sleeveless black dress with matching light gloves that she was obsessed with, despite its impracticality. She put some socks and tennis shoes on before leaving the room in order to blow dry her hair with the hair dryers.

Even after blow drying her hair for a while, Percy still wasn't out of the bath. Guess he just loved them or something. He's the son of Neptune, after all. Of course he did.

She was nearly done when she saw him in the mirror do a double take at her outfit. She turned off the blow dryer and started to brush her hair as he got closer to her.

"Why'd I get just a t-shirt and jeans when you got a whole ass dress?" he asked, standing behind her as she yanked the brush through her hair.

"Stand down, pretty boy," she drawled, still yanking her brush through her hair. After probably months of not brushing it, it was being really difficult to brush. "You're still a knockout."

"You think I'm pretty?" his voice cracked.

She didn't comment, focusing on her hair.

"Broooooks," he whined. "Say something."

"People think you're pretty without you trying, Perce," she told him, the nickname just coming out without her even realizing.

She frowned when he didn't say anything for a while. "Percy?" she moved onto the other section of her hair, making eye contact with him in the mirror.

"Sorry," he shook his head, one of his hands reaching out to run his fingers through her unknotted hair. "You're pretty too," he complimented. "Especially when you were wearing the stained hoodie. You don't need a dress to show that."