𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

22

Hadrian woke up from a dream, his hair and his face bright red.

Oh shit. What the fuck was that dream.

Sure, he was a teenager with hormones no matter how many dangerous quests he went on. But holy Hera that was wild. He tried to erase the dream from his mind, but flashes of it kept coming back.

The demigods had lounged around the whole day. Hazel and Frank had curled up watching tv, Jason and Percy tried to act busy but eventually they had just given up and retreated to thier rooms to do gods knew what.

Hadrian had jotted down the lines of both the prophecies and tried to figure out their meanings then he got bored so he tried to doodle, then he got bored then he started overthinking about Gaea.

Eventually they had a nice dinner and all retired to sleep. Except now it was three am and Hadrian couldn't sleep.

He got out of bed and snuck out of his room. Coach Hedge could be pretty scary when he wanted to and Hadrian did not want to get caught.

The first thing he noticed when he walked on deck was the lone figure. The second thing he noticed was that the lone figure was training.

Smooth fluid movements. Stab, parry, roll, block. Repeat. Jab, duck, disarm. It was hard to keep track of him, honestly. He fought like he had been made to do it, crafted into a perfect weapon. The sword slashed through the air, the boy ducked and parried.

Did he even get tired? How long had he been doing this?

Flashes from his dreams, someone's hand, long slender fingers, pink lips, a ghost of touch. The person in his dream didn't even have a face, but thinking of them, Hadrian turned deep red again. Gods he needed to purify his mind.

He focused on the person on the deck.

It was mesmerizing, the way he moved. Fuck it, he wasn't just a warrior, he was a dancer. Every step, every move. Hadrian was hypnotized. He could almost see it- Percy would make an amazing ballerina.

That was exactly how he'd fought in the battle of Manhattan, seemingly so lost in his own head that he didn't realize exactly how powerful he was. Hadrian swallowed the bile when he thought of the bridge collapsing.

Not a single day went by when he didn't think of Kira, didn't think of the battle or of Percy Jackson when he destroyed the bridge. An accident, Hadrian was sure. Mr. Righteous wouldn't want to hurt anyone on purpose of course.

"Are you going to just stand there and stare or...?"

"Stand here and stare" Hadrian nodded and folded his arms.

Percy laughed and the night was full of the sound. They had landed in the middle of no where so Hadrian wasn't worried about anyone overhearing. They were planning on leaving the next day since the repairs were done, Annabeth and Leo had discussed it over dinner.

"You like what you see?"

"Nah, you're not my type" Hadrian shrugged as he walked out onto the deck. He circled Percy once and stopped at the angle when the moon sone perfectly on him, making him shine as well.

Percy pulled a face. "I'm offended. So what is your type anyways?"

"Smart, for starters. Blond, maybe. My last boyfriend was a blond"

"How'd things go?"

"He cheated on me"

"Oh man, that sucks" Percy's sword shrank back into pen form. He was breathing hard. Hadrian didn't even understand why he was training. Percy was one of the most talented and powerful demigods he had ever met. He didn't need training.