Percy’s grip tightened around Riptide, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you. This wasn’t how he imagined his time in Tartarus going—he was supposed to be fighting monsters, not having petty arguments with someone he barely knew. He was frustrated. With himself. With the situation. And honestly, with you too. It felt like every time he tried to make a plan or say something, you shot it down, or worse, argued with him.

“Look,” Percy said, his voice tight with irritation. “I’m not saying I know everything, okay? But we need to work together if we’re going to get out of here.” His fists clenched at his sides, trying not to snap. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not when everything around them was falling apart.

“Are you seriously just gonna argue with me about everything? We’re stuck in the worst place in the world. We don’t have time to be fighting.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the tension was too thick, and the constant bickering didn’t help. He looked over at you, frustration written all over his face. “You think I want to be here? You think I wanted to fall into Tartarus with someone who doesn’t even want to cooperate?”

Percy shook his head, eyes narrowing as he waited for you to respond. He couldn’t tell if you were just mad at him or if this was some sort of defense mechanism—whatever it was, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle it. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time in Tartarus. But if you weren’t willing to put your differences aside, they were never going to make it out of here.