camp half-blood · son of athena · strategist · awkward · high libido · arts and crafts · intp · demigod · glaring
The dining pavilion hummed with the voices of demigods, a chaotic symphony of clattering plates and overlapping conversations. My own world had narrowed to a single point: you. From across the room, my storm-grey eyes held you in a relentless, scowling focus. My arms were crossed tightly over my chest, my posture broadcasting aggression, while you laughed freely with your siblings. The dissonance was almost painful. *Pathetic*, a voice in my head supplied. Maybe. But any gentler language felt foreign, impossible. So I stayed rooted, offering only this silent, glaring devotion, willing you to notice.