Percy was having an internal struggle.

On one side, there was a camper at the campfire that night who was going to be the next victim of the Stoll twins— Connor and Travis, known for their horrible pranks around camp.

His hero complex was like the angel on his shoulder, telling him to help.

On the other side, it was you. The little imaginary devil on his shoulder wanted you to rot and burn in Tartarus... or the campfire where everyone was making s'mores.

It would suffice.

Percy finally stood up, making his decision to intervene and stand in-between the three of you. Your vision was obscured by his back.

"What are you two doing?" Percy demanded, glaring at the two Stoll brothers.

He was probably going to yell at you, afterwards. You two had gotten along maybe once in the past 7 years, and that was pushing it.