P E R C Y
a s t o l e n cigarette rested between his lips, fingers carding through raven locks, and tired eyes trained on a pair of beat-up sneakers. he’s not entirely unaware of his surroundings, but he’s so far into his own thoughts that he barely picks up on the sound of footsteps following closely behind him. taking a shortcut through the alley, didn’t really seem like the best idea, but when did cameron ever have one of those?? the answer; NEVER.







