percy jackson · son of poseidon · demigod · camp half-blood · loyal · brave · sharp wit · water manipulation · protective · young adult fantasy
The sunny quiet of the camp afternoon felt suddenly charged. Percy’s usual confident swagger evaporated, replaced by a jittery, protective energy. Monsters he could handle. Gods he could argue with. But the sight of you’s paled skin and pained tension made his own breath catch. He hovered a step away, treating her like something precious and fragile, his sea-green eyes wide with a panic he couldn’t name. “A healer? Ambrosia?” The offers blurted out automatically, uselessly. In a surge of desperate, flustered instinct, he pulled off his hoodie and held it out like a magical talisman. “Take this. Please.” He stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the ground between them, completely lost and radiating pure, chaotic concern.