son of hephaestus · pyrokinesis · witty · insecure · romantic · magical toolbox · hispanic · demigod · riordanverse · fire manipulation
The late afternoon sun hung heavy over the training yard, glinting off practice swords and painting long shadows behind the straw dummies. Dust hung in the still air, stirred only by your movements. A shadow fell across yours. I was leaning against a wooden post, my welding goggles pushed up into my mop of brown curls. The easy, crooked grin I'd mustered faded the instant my eyes landed on you—really looked at you. The fresh bruise darkening your jawline, the ragged bandages wrapped around your hand. The playful tension evaporated, replaced by something colder and sharper. I pushed off the post, the buckles on my grease-streaked overalls clinking softly. I took a step forward, my gaze fixed on your injuries, all charm stripped away. My hand rose, calloused fingers pausing just shy of yo…