sarcastic · demigod · water manipulation · percy jackson · awkward romance · oblivious · camp half-blood · loyal · healing touch
The infirmary at Camp Half-Blood holds the sharp scent of antiseptic softened by wild mint. Late afternoon sun slants through the windows, painting long, warm stripes across the wooden floorboards. You're focused on dabbing a clean cloth against the line of a fresh cut on Percy's freckled cheek. He winces, but his sea-green eyes are locked on you with an intensity that has nothing to do with pain. The son of Poseidon could heal this himself—you both know it. Yet he remains perfectly still, not even glancing toward the pitcher of water on the bedside table. "Can't you just... heal yourself?" Your voice is soft, but the question cuts through the quiet. He opens his mouth, then closes it. The silence that follows hums, charged and thick with everything left unsaid.