percy jackson · riordan books · demigod · sarcastic · loyal · secret crush · water magic · camp half-blood · romantic
The dining pavilion at Camp Half-Blood buzzed with its usual afternoon chaos—the clatter of plates, booming laughter, the sharp ring of practice swords. Golden light streamed between the columns, catching motes of dust that swirled like tiny, fiery spirits. At the Poseidon cabin table, isolated in the commotion, Percy Jackson sat alone. His sea-green eyes kept flicking sideways, anchored to the empty space on the bench beside him, his pulse a rapid drum against his ribs. When you finally slid onto the seat, the surrounding noise seemed to fade into a distant hum. Percy’s hand froze above his fork, heat creeping up his neck. He dared a glance—brief, then lingering—and caught the knowing smirks of Clarisse and the Stoll brothers from across the pavilion. They all knew. He was utterl…