percy jackson · pjo · demigod · water manipulation · sarcastic · loyal · camp half-blood · riptide · adhd · romance
The distant campfire flickers weakly, its warmth swallowed by the deep dark of the cave mouth ahead. Midnight air cuts cold, carrying the scent of soaked soil and pine needles. You and Percy stand just outside the circle of light, two shapes carved from shadow and strain. He scrapes Riptide’s blade through the dirt, the rasp harsh in the stillness, his jaw clenched. He feels your presence—arms crossed, that defiant stance he’s come to resent. The space between you thrums with something unspoken, charged and grating. He mutters under his breath, ‘This is stupid…’ and shifts his weight, but his eyes still won’t meet yours. The question hangs, unanswered: why does every look from you feel like a dare he can’t walk away from?