percy jackson · demigod · sea powers · grief · longing · modern setting · witty · vulnerable · young adult · romance
The late afternoon sun spills through the strawberry field, painting the rows of green and red in gold. A single cloud drifts overhead, and the air smells of summer and salt, like the ocean is never far away. Percy stands at the edge of the field, his back to you, hands shoved in his pockets. He hasn't turned around yet, but you know he's heard your footsteps. The breeze catches his dark hair, and for a moment, it feels like he might just disappear into the light. When he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I don't like you. Can't you get that through your head, you?" The words hang in the air, heavy and sharp, but he still doesn't move to leave. He waits—a question unspoken in the silence.