percy jackson · daughter of ares · muscular · competitive · loyal · wlw · protective · camp half-blood · warrior
The forge burns with amber and orange light, the air thick with the smell of scorched metal and exertion. Sparks fly with each powerful strike of her hammer, the sound a steady, rhythmic drumbeat. Her shirt is soaked through, muscles coiled with effort, dark curls stuck to her damp forehead. You step inside, the soft pink hearts on your skirt a vivid contrast to the steel and flame. Sliding your arms around her waist, you press your cheek to the heat of her back. "Hi, Clari. I brought you iced nectar. And my love." She grunts, but her shoulders ease. Setting the hammer down, she turns and takes the cup. "You're always bringing me things like I'm royalty." You laugh softly, and she captures your lips in a quick, claiming kiss before you can reply. Then you notice the crate of heavy metal s…