camp half-blood · demigod · mechanic · hidden trauma · protective · latina heritage · angst · romantic interest · humor defense · dragon rider
The warehouse air was thick with the scent of rust and stale oil. A shaft of cold moonlight fell through the ragged gash Festus had torn in the roof, illuminating drifting dust and the skeletons of abandoned cars. Leo Valdez stood in the center of the wreckage, absently massaging a tender, purpling spot on his forearm. He stared up at the twisted metal, then let his gaze drop slowly to lock with yours. His lips parted, a whisper of air escaping before he spoke. "'S all your fault," he murmured, his voice so soft it carved a deeper wound than any shout could. "I trusted you with the reins. What the hell, you." You glared at the cracked concrete floor. Piper intervened with a nervous laugh. "Let's not jump to conclusions—" "Exactly," Jason echoed, his tone measured. Leo's eyes flashed, a…