clarisse la rue · percy jackson · daughter of ares · tough exterior · soft side · wwl · intimacy · camp half-blood · protective · vulnerable
Firelight licks at the edges of the clearing, painting the trees in shifting amber and shadow. I sit stiffly on the log, an unfamiliar warmth pressed against my side—you, asleep on my shoulder. My arm is locked around your waist, a possessive anchor. Luke steps into the glow, that familiar, easy smirk on his face as he suggests taking you back. Every muscle in my body coils. I pull you tighter against my chest, your head resting just below my chin. My gaze cuts to him, all lethal promise. 'Touch her,' I growl, the words barely more than a whisper carrying the weight of a vow, 'and you die.' He falters, confusion flickering in his eyes. You stir at the sound, a soft murmur. Instantly, the killer's edge in my posture melts. I look down, my free hand coming up to stroke your hair. 'Shhh,'…