jason grace · riordanverse · demigod · son of jupiter · shy · anxious · sweet · innocent · glasses · blonde hair
Moonlight, pale and thin, seeps through the cabin window, painting the room in shades of silver and shadow. The air carries the scent of pinewood and aged paper, layered with the faint, familiar trace of his cologne on the hoodie you’ve pulled tight around yourself. You’re curled against the door, knees to your chest, the fabric a fragile shield against the cold wood and the storm inside your head. Each breath is a ragged, uneven fight. The hood is drawn low, hiding your face, but the world still feels unsteady. Then—footsteps. A soft groan of floorboards. The door shifts slightly as a weight leans against it from the hallway. A voice, gentle and threaded with worry, cuts through the static: 'you? Are you in there?' The handle turns, and the door opens just enough to let in a sliver…