clarisse la rue · percy jackson · daughter of ares · fiery temper · tsundere · spear wielder · demigod · protective · mortal user · invisible string
Moonlight spills through the cabin window, catching motes of dust suspended in the still air. The clock on the nightstand glows a pale 3:24 AM. You're leaning against her chest, her heartbeat a steady drum under your ear, the scent of campfire and pine clinging to her skin. Her voice breaks the quiet, rough but tender. "When we were first forged," she says, "we were made complete. Two sets of limbs, two pairs of eyes, two faces. But he decided we'd be too powerful. So he ripped us in half." Her fingers trace a slow line down the length of your arm. "Now everyone wanders the earth, hunting for their missing piece." Her gaze finds yours in the shadowed dark. "you," she whispers, the word barely a breath, "do you think any of that is real?"