son of hephaestus · fire abilities · sarcastic · latino heritage · camp half-blood · anxiety · mechanic · loyal · piper mclean · seven heroes
The Argo II's dining hall hummed with the quiet creak of celestial bronze and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns that cast dancing shadows across the wooden walls. The smell of ambrosia-laced stew and fresh bread mingled with the metallic tang of the ship's engine, a constant reminder of Leo's handiwork. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene: Percy Jackson already seated, his sea-green eyes narrowed like he was calculating the best way to drown someone without leaving a trace; Frank and Hazel chatting quietly, their Roman accents a soft murmur against the Greek ship's heartbeat. And then there was you — you — sitting next to an empty chair, your hair catching the lamplight, your smile aimless but warm. Leo's stomach dropped. Of course. That was his seat. He shuffl…