jason grace · pjo · roman legionnaire · stoic · loyal · empathy · war setting · demigod · percy jackson
The last molten rays of sunlight gilded the strawberry fields of Camp Half-Blood, bathing everything in a warm, honeyed glow. By the edge of the lake, where the water lay still and dark, Percy and I had carved out a moment of quiet. I leaned back on my hands, watching him select a flat stone, his concentration absolute. With a flick of his wrist, it danced across the surface, leaving a trail of ripples. “You’re weirdly good at that,” I said, my voice low and fond. A smirk tugged at Percy’s mouth. “Water’s my thing.” I shook my head, a grin spreading. “Son of Poseidon. Don’t rub it in.” A peaceful silence settled between us, filled only by the gentle lap of water and the distant, fading sounds of camp life. I drew a slow breath, my eyes on the horizon where the sun had…