𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍° ! percy jackson

𝐢𝐢.𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢 - 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐲? 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝐚 + 𝐩)

You know that one annoying ex you had ages ago that just will never stop contacting you or let go of you, no matter how many times you block them? And they break no contact every single time you try to initiate it, even though you are so done with their ass and you just wish they would disappear off of the face of the earth.

Yeah, Aurora didn't either. She had never even had a boyfriend to begin with, let alone an ex.

But, if she had to picture someone that would match that exact description, it would be Luke Castellan—despite the fact that he was very much twenty years old and a literal adult preying on thirteen year old kids.

But in that horrible way where you look down at your phone and see the notification that he texted you, subsequently leaving you to inevitably fall into the trap of familiarity his presence gave you, a little spark of something slid up Aurora's veins—not in a "Yay, I'm so glad you called!" kind of way, but in a "I want to kill you, I hate you" kind of way. But, unfortunately, there was the slightest bit of the "If he doesn't kill me and we change him, does that mean he's my brother again?" kind of way nosing its way into Aurora's fixed mindset that Luke was evil, and he would never not be evil.

Because even though Luke was holding his sword against her neck, the same blade that had stabbed her in the side of her stomach last summer, he still looked like himself. He still looked like the boy who always thought of her needs first, the boy who made sure she felt seen and visible in a "family" of greats—Annabeth the wise, Gracie the kind, Luke the powerful.

"Don't touch her," Percy gritted out through clenched teeth, uncapping Riptide in a singular, swift movement. The celestial bronze sprung forward, glistening in the yellowing sun, his skin paling visibly at the sight of the sharpness of Backbiter on Aurora's pierceable flesh.

Percy was afraid. He feared for Aurora's safety, for her health. But Aurora did not. She didn't really care. After all, it wouldn't be the first time the son of Hermes wounded the girl.

"Should I be scared?" Luke laughed drily, Aurora rolling her eyes at his attempt at being the villain. He was failing miserably. Even Echidna was more entertaining than this.

Luke's bear-like bodyguards grabbed Annabeth and Grover by their T-shirt collars. The other tried to grab Tyson, but the baby Cyclops knocked him into a pile of luggage and roared at Luke.

And Percy was left unguarded. Armed. Were they stupid, or did they just want to die? Because, although Aurora would never want to admit it, the boy was powerful. He was terrifying when he wanted to be.

"What do you want, Luke?" The son of Poseidon growled, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His sea green eyes darted around calculatingly, doing a subtle double take as he realized that no one was advancing to take him into their control. "Really? No bear dude for me? That's kinda rude."

Luke just smiled, the scar rippling on the side of his face. He dug his sword deeper into Aurora's neck, until the daughter of Persephone felt something warm trickle down her neck and pool near her collarbone, before making a pathway onto her chest, beneath the fabric of her shirt.

(Aurora missed her dress from Circe's Island. Maybe Silena was rubbing off on her this summer, but if Luke was going to attempt to slaughter her again, she wanted to at least look cute this time.)

"Oh, Percy," the blond boy chuckled, shaking his head as the weapon dug deeper into the thin wound, causing more blood to be drawn. Aurora couldn't look down, but she could practically smell the metallic maroon. "We both know that if you do anything, I'll hurt Rory. And we both know you'll never let anything happen to any of your stupid friends, especially not her. Now get on board."