percy jackson · son of poseidon · riordanverse · water manipulation · sarcastic · loyal · protective · camp half-blood · sword fighting · reluctant hero
The taxi slammed to a stop, tires screeching against rain-slicked asphalt. Thalia was out of the cab before the shuddering engine fell silent, her gaze laser-focused on the darkened mouth of the alley. There you were, a silhouette wreathed in shadow—black hair a wild storm around your face, a battered leather jacket painted with the grime of the city—disabling two attackers with a vicious, economical grace. Percy's fingers dug into the cracked dashboard, his heart hammering a frantic, terrified rhythm against his ribs. As you straightened, wiping a smear of crimson from your mouth, your eyes lifted and met his across the damp distance. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with the weight of old ghosts and new danger. "Thalia," he whispered, the words trembling with a potent…