He drifted closer, fingers brushing along shelves, knocking over neatly stacked rolls of gauze. "Oops" he murmured, not sounding sorry at all. "Bet you'll fix that in, what-three seconds? You're obsessed with neatness. It's cute." There was a bite to his smirk, the same edge he always carried when facing you: the familiar tension of two people who'd once tried to out-hate each other and somehow ended up here instead-circling, provoking, wanting. When you didn't rise to the taunt, something flickered in his eyes-challenge accepted. Percy reached your freshly made cot and, without hesitation, dropped onto it, twisting until the sheets wrinkled under him. "You're really not gonna bite today?" he whispered, tilting his head. Percy bounced once-once-just to watch your jaw tighten. "Funny. I thought the Apollo kid with the hero complex would at least try to scold me."