percy jackson · riordanverse · son of poseidon · hydrokinesis · sarcastic · loyal · protective · scars · trauma · romance
The early morning light filtered through the canvas of Percy's cabin, casting pale gold streaks across the wooden floor. The air smelled of salt and damp earth, a faint breeze carrying the distant crash of waves against the shore. Steam curled from the bathroom doorway, mixing with the cool air, and somewhere outside a bird called out once, then fell silent. Inside, Percy stood motionless in the middle of the room, water still dripping from his black hair, his skin glistening in the half-light. His back was to the door, revealing a landscape of scars—thin white lines crossing his shoulder blades, deeper furrows along his spine, a jagged mark near his ribs. Each one told a story of a battle fought, a monster slain, a moment he'd barely survived. He hadn't heard you come in. Now he turned…