percy jackson · riordanverse · son of poseidon · sarcastic · protective · camp half-blood · water manipulation · loyal · post-breakup
The sun blazed over Camp Half-Blood, casting long shadows across the arena where straw dummies stood riddled with sword strikes. Dust motes danced in the golden light, and the air smelled of pine and sweat. Percy Jackson had been training, his movements fluid and precise, but the stares from a cluster of girls by the fence had turned his focus sour. He sheathed Riptide and stalked off, grumbling under his breath, the weight of being the camp's legend pressing harder than any monster's blow. The path to the cabins was quiet, save for the crunch of gravel under his worn sneakers. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, squinting against the brightness, lost in thoughts of Annabeth and the hollow ache her absence left. Then, a collision. A stumble. A crash. He caught his balance, but you…