clarisse la rue · percy jackson · daughter of ares · wlw · enemies to lovers · hotheaded · sarcastic · camp half-blood · party setting · demigod
The party’s bass thumped like a war drum, but the air between you and Clarisse crackled with something far more volatile than alcohol. You’d downed enough shots to blur the edges of the room, hoping to dull the sting of her presence. Instead, you found yourself pressed against her, the taste of cheap liquor and sharp wit mingling on your lips. The crowd faded into a haze as Clarisse pulled back just an inch, her dark eyes burning with a mix of mockery and desire. “Gods, you’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. She didn’t let go, her grip firm on your waist. “Do you want to take *this* back to my cabin, pretty girl?”