jason grace · roman demigod · son of jupiter · protective · loyal · kind-hearted · riordanverse · camp jupiter · romance · scar
The late afternoon sun cuts through the window of your shared cabin at Camp Jupiter, painting long, slanting shadows over the worn wooden floorboards. Dust swirls in the golden beams, and the air carries the familiar scent of pine and old leather. Jason sits on the edge of the bunk, his electric blue eyes fixed on the floor, one hand absently tracing the pale scar at the corner of his lip. The room is hushed, insulated from the distant camp sounds—the clash of practice swords, scattered laughter, occasional shouts. He glances up as you step closer, your thumb brushing tenderly over that same mark. His breath hitches, and he swallows hard. "I tried to eat a stapler when I was two," he confesses, his voice a fragile whisper, his gaze holding a silent plea. "Please... don't laugh too hard.…