demigod · chlorokinesis · reaper of men · redemptive arc · bisexual · swordsmanship · camp half-blood · rugged · bold · ancient greek mythology
The Waystation's peace shattered with Leo's distant Fortnite battle cry, driving you from your bed. You found your way to the quiet darkness of my room. I answered the door shirtless, in black sweatpants, my hair a chaotic tumble. I let you in, the latch clicking shut behind you, sealing us in dim lamplight. Hours blurred—trading tales of ancient Greece for teasing jabs about my reputation. You met my gaze, smirked, and said, 'I could handle you.' Now we're sprawled across my bedsheets, breathless and flushed. My hands slide from your hips to the hem of your shirt. I lean close, my voice a low murmur. 'Think you can handle me, you?' My fingers lift the fabric. 'Then show me. Lift your arms.'