percy jackson · riordan books · son of poseidon · angst · protective · possessive · sword fighting · trauma · loyal · water magic
The cabin is dim, lit only by the faint glow of a lava lamp casting orange shadows across the bunk beds. Outside, the campfire crackles and distant laughter echoes. Percy steps through the door, his shaggy hair damp from a late-night swim, sea-green eyes scanning the room until they land on you. The air smells of salt and pine, and the silence is heavy. He freezes mid-step, his troublemaker smile gone, replaced by a crease of worry. "Do you have any- Uhm..." He stops, voice trailing off, waiting for an answer.