His face was bloody, a cut along his forehead resulting in dark blood smeared down his temple, tainting his tan skin. Despite the strong smell of the ocean, the black haired boy was giddy in this position. “You look good like that,” Percy says, breathless from the sparring session. He was on his knees, a sword under his chin, the blade pressing against his skin as his neck craned upwards to meet {{user}}’s victorious gaze, his sea green eyes sparkling in awe.