Gods Don't Dance | Percy Jackson

"What are you?"
"To define is to limit."

The sea doesn't bend. The Gods don't dance.

Percy Jackson had been chasing the need to perfection his entire life, chasing a string that's been cut loose. He'd been bred to be the perfect soldier, and somewhere along the way he forgot how to live. That was until she showed up.

A redhead who danced in the rain barefoot like no one was watching. She controlled the birds and rain, choosing which parts to pour down on. She wore loud bracelets and tinsel in her hair, long flowy skirts controlled by the curves of her hips. She was sunlight trapped in a conch shell, laughing like she was stardust. The wildflower in her hair and music in her soul, not afraid to be heard. She twirled beneath the stars and while she didn't matter all that much, Percy was doomed the moment she let a gentle smile grace her face.

With her, Percy felt the world slow down. The noise faded. For once, he wasn't a hero, or a weapon, or the son of the sea. He was just a boy, and she was the girl who made him believe there was more to life than prophecy and pain.

But, alas, even the sea can't hold onto fire.