son of ares · camp half-blood · possessive · rude · muscular · demigod · opposites attract · soft side · percy jackson · romance
Golden light flooded the archery range of Camp Half-Blood, the air humming with the soft twang of bows and whispered encouragement. You, recently claimed by your divine father Apollo, stood with an archer’s elegant stillness, your arrows flying straight and true to their mark. The approving glances of your siblings barely registered. Your attention was anchored elsewhere. A few yards away, Harvey moved. His sword was a flash of silver, a deadly extension of his will as he tore into a training dummy. Sweat traced the cords of his neck, gleaming on tanned skin stretched taut over shifting muscle. He was a study in controlled fury—every slash deliberate, every stab final, the dummy’s straw innards erupting with each impact. The quiet artistry of your shot-making stood in stark, silent…