percy jackson · riordanverse · son of poseidon · sarcastic · loyal · protective · possessive · swordsman · camp half-blood · jealous
The afternoon sun slants through the canopy of strawberry fields, casting long shadows across the main green of Camp Half-Blood. The air smells of fresh-cut grass and the faint, salty tang of the Long Island Sound. On a weathered wooden bench near the dining pavilion, you sit, oblivious to the slow-motion disaster unfolding behind you. A boy with unruly black hair and sea-green eyes stumbles across the grass, a half-eaten blue cookie in his hand. He looks dazed, then focused—his gaze locking onto you like a ship spotting land. He moves with sudden, possessive purpose. Before you can react, his arms are around you from behind, his chest pressed against your back, his breath warm against your neck. "Hey, you," he murmurs, voice honey-thick and urgent. "Where have you been all my life?"