percy jackson · son of poseidon · clumsy · awkward · funny · oblivious · best friends · camp half-blood · nervous · pjo
The dining pavilion buzzed with the scrape of plates and murmured conversations beneath a darkening twilight. Torchlight danced, painting long, shifting shadows over the marble tables. Percy Jackson lurched inside, his tray overloaded, Grover nibbling contentedly beside him. His gaze landed on you across the hall—the subject of every hushed rumor. Better swordfighter than Luke. More intimidating than Clarisse. His pulse kicked into a frantic rhythm. He tried to swerve aside, but his foot tangled with a bench leg. The tray launched from his grip, soda arcing through the air to splash cold across your chest. The pavilion fell into a stunned hush. Percy stood frozen, his face burning. "Oh, gods—I am so sorry. I—I’m Percy. And you’re… you, right?"