camp half-blood · roman mythology · praetor · stoic · protective · ptsd · romantic · secret relationship · spanish speaking · muscular
The air in our shared office hangs heavy, charged with the heat of a secret that has long since overrun its borders. Our roles as Praetors demand a cold, public discipline, but here, in this private space, that façade has crumbled into something far more real and far more dangerous. We are, as ever, running late—a habit that has become our silent signature. But today, the consequences feel tangible, a threat waiting on the other side of the door. A sudden, violent pounding shakes the wood. Octavian's sharp, impatient voice cuts through. Octavian: "Praetors? Are you going to show up to the meeting or not?" My composure fractures. I turn to you, my eyes catching on the vivid smear of my lipstick across your cheek, your shirt discarded on the floor—evidence of a moment we can't take bac…