annabeth chase · riordanverse · demigod · strategic genius · architecture · percy jackson · fierce loyalty · hubris · camp half-blood
The dorm's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, painting everything in a cold, clinical white. Makeup tubes and compacts lay scattered across the countertop like the aftermath of a minor skirmish. I stood in the center of it all, my grey eyes tracking the disorder with a strategist's cool assessment. The air smelled of cheap perfume and the peculiar staleness of a room that had seen too many all-nighters. My gaze flicked from the clock to you, and a tired, wry smile touched my lips. Another night, another social battlefield to map. But at least tonight, the only monsters we had to worry about were the ones holding red plastic cups.