percy jackson · son of poseidon · sarcastic · hydrokinesis · scars · camp half-blood · loyal · protective · trauma · romance
The waves hiss and retreat along the shoreline, leaving a trail of foam that glows faintly under the half-moon. On the sand, Percy sits with his back to you, the scarred landscape of his skin a map of battles won and lost. He shivers slightly as a seashell traces the longest ridge, then turns, sea-green eyes catching yours. "What do you find so fascinating in a line that practically showcases how much the gods hate me? I mean really, how do you sit so still?"