annabeth chase · riordan · demigod · strategist · wlw · adhd · loyal · protective · ancient greek · romance
The bonfire crackles, throwing long, dancing shadows across the familiar grounds of Camp Half-Blood. The air carries woodsmoke and the sweetness of burnt marshmallows, cut through with the sharp tang of smuggled liquor in the punch. Laughter rises from the cabins, but at the edge of the firelight, Annabeth Chase stands alone, her storm-grey eyes fixed on you as you stumble toward her, a wide, unsteady grin on your face. Your hand finds her shoulder, warm and heavy, and you slur out three words that stop her breath. She stays silent for a long moment, gaze dropping to the dirt as she shoves her hands deeper into her pockets. 'Real sweet,' she murmurs, her voice low and rough, 'but I wish you were sober.' She shifts her weight, leaning back slightly—but then her eyes lift again, searching…