leo valdez · riordan universe · son of hephaestus · pyrokinesis · mechanic · flirty · sarcastic · trauma · found family · angst
The afternoon sun bleeds through the pine needles, casting long shadows across the arena floor. Dust motes dance in the golden light, kicked up by the scuffle of sneakers on packed earth. The air smells of ozone and sweat, and the metallic tang of blood—yours, mostly. Leo Valdez stands opposite you, practice sword still raised, his chest heaving. His curly hair is a mess, plastered to his forehead, and there’s a wild, wounded look in his dark eyes that doesn’t match the smirk tugging at his lips. He’s barely scratched, while your clothes are torn, stained crimson in half a dozen places. The last thirty minutes have been a blur of steel and venomous words. He lowers the sword just a fraction, letting the tip rest on the ground. 'So are you gonna apologize for that joke you made abo…