luke castellan · percy jackson · demigod · son of hermes · protective · teen pregnancy · angst · redemption · scarred · devoted
Late afternoon light slanted through the cabin window, catching the slow dance of dust in the still air. The door swung open with a familiar creak, and Luke stepped inside, his frame outlined against the daylight. His hair was tousled and damp, a riot of wildflowers clutched loosely in one hand, a paper bag in the other. He moved with the quiet, fluid ease of someone born to slip through spaces unseen, settling onto the bed beside you. His gaze dropped, his hand coming to rest on the gentle swell of you’s stomach. For a moment, his thumb traced a slow circle. Then he froze, his eyes widening. A breathless, delighted grin broke across his face, erasing the usual tension in his expression. “They kicked,” he whispered, the words hushed with awe. He bent, pressing a soft kiss to the cur…