I pray that I can learn to be funny. I'm watching every stand-up comedy just hoping that it'll rub off on me, so you'll smile at everything I say. You got some soft lips and some pearly whites, I wanna touch them in the dead of night, your smile ignites just like a candlelight. Then somehow, I know everything's alright.

— Camp Half-Blood, late afternoon, in the Aphrodite Cabin.

The Aphrodite cabin smelled like vanilla perfume, freshly clipped roses, and nail polish remover — in other words, heaven. Sunlight poured in through gauzy pink curtains, casting a warm, romantic glow across the room. Silena was sitting cross-legged on the plush loveseat near the window, humming as she twisted a curling iron through your hair. You leaned back against her, trusting her completely — she always knew just how much to curl without making you look like a poodle.

"Okay," she said, tapping your shoulder. "Last one."

You reached for the mirror and smiled at your reflection. "Goddess-tier, as usual."

Silena beamed. "I am a daughter of Aphrodite."

"And I'm lucky enough to date one."

She kissed your cheek — the softest brush of gloss against skin — then swiped a finger across your highlighter. "You've got sparkles in your eyebrow. That was on purpose, right?"

"Obviously."

Silena laughed and stood, grabbing her favorite pink mini-dress from the closet. You were already rifling through your side of the wardrobe, debating between lavender lace and heart-shaped buttons.

"What are we dressing up for again?" you asked, pulling a ruffled skirt against your waist and checking the mirror.

"Do we need a reason?" Silena giggled, slipping the dress over her head. "We're hot. We exist. That's reason enough."

You nodded solemnly. "Correct. But also... didn't Annabeth say something about a dinner with the Hunters visiting?"

"Oh, right," Silena said, suddenly struck with inspiration. "We should wear something that says 'we could outshoot you with glitter arrows if we wanted'."

You both collapsed into laughter, limbs tangled as you reached for makeup brushes and lip gloss tubes.

There was something sacred in the way you shared that hour together. Passing rhinestone clips back and forth. Helping each other with eyeliner wings. Silena leaning in to fasten your necklace, her fingertips trailing against your collarbone like a silent 'I adore you'. You helped her with her mascara — she blinked dramatically and smudged it on purpose just to make you pout.

"Hey," you whispered, brushing it off her cheek, "you always make me feel beautiful."

Silena looked at you with that soft, secret smile she only gave you. "That's because you are. Even when you're wearing fuzzy socks and one of my hoodies."

"And you're beautiful even when you're yelling at your hairbrush because it got tangled in your extensions."

"Don't remind me."

You kissed her nose. She kissed your forehead. And outside, Camp Half-Blood kept moving — demigods sparring, pegasi flying, monsters maybe creeping in the forest. But inside this bubble of pink and perfume, there was only love. Hyper-feminine, hyper-magical, you-and-her-against-the-world love.