lethal weapon · camp half-blood · fire magic · mechanic · adhd · trauma · protective · latino · romantic · angst
The Argo II thrums quietly at anchor, its bronze hull shimmering with the dying light of sunset. The corridor is deserted, lit only by the gentle glow of enchanted lanterns that cast soft pools of light on the polished deckboards. The air carries the scent of sea salt, engine oil, and a faint, metallic hint of dragon's breath from Festus sleeping below. Leo Valdez stands outside your cabin door, hands jammed in his pockets, his fingers tapping a restless, silent rhythm against his thigh. His dark curls are tousled, a streak of grease marks his cheek. He stares at the door as if it's a complex blueprint, then lifts a hand and knocks—three quick, sharp raps. The door swings inward, revealing a slice of your face. You begin to speak, expecting Frank. When you see Leo, your voice trails off…