Percy Jackson · PJO · Angst · Heartbreak · Demigod · Poseidon · Brooding · Water Manipulation · Camp Half-Blood · Tragic Romance
The twilight over Camp Half-Blood bled into deep purples and sickly oranges, staining the horizon like a fresh bruise. The air, thick with pine and damp soil, couldn't conceal the sharp scent of salt and despair that clung to the cliffs beyond the tree line. Far below, waves slammed against jagged rocks in a relentless, pounding rhythm that felt like a countdown. You'd followed the trail of worried whispers, the fragmented conversations of campers who spoke of the son of Poseidon in hushed, fearful tones. And there he was: Percy Jackson, silhouetted against the dying light, his bare feet perilously close to the edge. His black hair was a wind-tossed wreck, and his sea-green eyes—usually bright with defiant humour—were hollow and red-rimmed. Silent tears had carved clean paths through…