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Annabeth grits her teeth, forcing herself to not stab her fork into her steak, as her stepmother talks, and talks, and talks .
“I’m just saying , Annabeth, you and Percy have been together for years now, and I think it’s time you really start thinking of your future,” She says, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders, as if they don’t have this exact conversation every single time Annabeth comes to visit.
“We’re still in college, the future is too far ahead to think about,” Annabeth answers, taking a bite of her food so she hopefully doesn’t have to respond to whatever nonsense her stepmother says next.
“Isn’t that your whole thing?” One of her step-brothers asks. “Planning ahead and knowing everything?”
“That’s not—“
“Well,” Her stepmother interrupts, shaking her head in disapproval. She sets her utensils down and levels Annabeth with a stare of false concern. “Soon enough Percy will get bored of you, and unless he’s legally bound to you, he’ll leave faster than you can blink.”
Surprisingly, Annabeth’s fork stays intact, despite her gripping it with all the force in her body. “I think we’ll be fine,” she grits out.
“Your mother thought that too, and look how well that turned out.”
This time the fork does bend, ever so slightly, enough that Annabeth can feel the new curves digging into her palm. “That’s not what happened, right dad?”
Addressed for the first time tonight, Frederick's eyes widen and he stammers something that could be interpreted either way. Her stepmother's smug grin grows, and Annabeth’s appetite has been lost to her.
“I’m not hungry anymore,” She says, grabbing her plate and standing.
“Oh Annabeth, don’t pout like a child, I’m just trying to help.”
“You’ve done enough,” Annabeth says, letting her dishes clatter in the sink. She grabs her bag from the front door and slips on her shoes. “I’m gonna head out, thanks for the invite, Dad.”
In her car, the tears don't start until she’s down the road, and she pulls over so she can sob in peace.
+
The door slams shut behind Annabeth, and she narrowly misses Percy as she flops face first onto the bed. Percy rubs her back as she lets out a guttural scream into a pillow.
“Dinner didn’t go well?”
“She’s such a bitch !” Annabeth’s cry is muffled in the pillow, but Percy winces all the same. She huffs and turns over so she can see him. “Every single time I see her, she pesters me about getting married. Today she said you’ll get bored of me and leave, and then she brought up my mother!”
Annabeth has sat up by this point, and Percy has to lean back to dodge her wildly gesticulating hands. “My dad wouldn’t even defend me, so I stormed out and cried for a while and now I’m just really pissed off.”
Percy leans over and hugs her close to his body, her back against his front, running his hands up and down her arms. “I know how frustrating it must be, love. If you want to get married, we can, and if you don't, we don't have to. It's up to you.”
Annabeth shifts so she's looking up at him. “Do you ever want to get married?”
“Sure, eventually,” Percy shrugs. “I’d love to marry you someday, but not right now. Life is too complicated, and we’re only 20. We've got time. Do you?”
“Yeah,” she hums and snuggles closer into his grip. “I think I'd like that. Mrs Annabeth Jackson.”
“Mr Percy Chase?”
“Absolutely not.”
+
“Mrs Jackson, could you tell me the answer to this question?”
Annabeth briefly registers her professor speaking, focusing on her doodling of her and Percy’s dream home.
“Mrs Jackson?”
Annabeth looks up, finding her professor standing in front of her desk, an expectant look on his face. “Could you tell me the answer to this question?”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Annabeth’s cheeks flush, and she clears her throat. “The blueprint shows no indication of a foundation, making the building not structurally sound.”
“Correct,” says her professor. “Be sure to be paying attention next time you’re called on, Mrs Jackson.”
After class, Annabeth makes her way to the professor's desk. He's sorting through papers, but smiles when she approaches. “How can I help you, Mrs Jackson?”
“I just wanted to avoid any confusion,” Annabeth starts. She anxiously tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, her fear of authority clearly not being something she’s grown out of. “I’m unmarried, I still go by Ms Chase.”
“Oh!” Her professor looks genuinely surprised at this, and he scrambles to write something down on a sticky note. “I apologize Ms Chase, it seems we were given some incorrect information.”
Annabeth smiles tightly, though she feels her heart clench at the thought of having this conversation with every single professor of hers. “It’s no problem, I just wanted to clarify.”
She walks away, cursing under her breath as she types an email on her phone to send to her professors.
+
“I saw you coming out of Jackson’s room this morning,” One of Annabeth’s classmates says as she slides into the chair beside her. “How long has that been going on?”
“With Percy?” Annabeth raises an eyebrow. “Since we were 16.”
“He’s been stringing you along for that long?” Her classmate sucks a sharp breath in through her teeth. “I knew he was a player, but I didn’t think he was that bad.”
Annabeth’s confusion must be apparent, because her classmate laughs and says, half soothing, half condescending, “Annabeth, you don’t think he’s only sleeping with you, do you?”
“Considering we’ve been dating for the past four years, I’d certainly hope so,” Annabeth scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You know we live together, right? That's why I was coming out of his room, because it’s mine too.”
“I didn’t know—“
“No, you clearly didn’t.” Annabeth collects her things and stands. “And frankly, it’s none of your business whether I'm the only person Percy is sleeping with or not.”
She stomps away, albeit quite dramatically, leaving her classmate with her mouth agape.
+
“Should we just get married?”
“Hello to you too, darling.”
“I’m serious,” Annabeth drops onto the couch like a puppet cut from its strings. “I’ve been called Mrs Jackson more times than I can count, my classmates apparently think you’re a player who sleeps with hundreds of different girls, and we’d get better tax benefits.”
Percy stands behind the couch, leaning over to hug Annabeth’s shoulders and resting his chin beside her head. “Do you want to get married right now?”
She mulls over the thought for a few moments, grateful that Percy doesn't prompt her again until she’s ready to speak. “No.”
“Then we won’t,” He shrugs, moving to plop himself beside her on the couch. “You brought this up because you think it'll be easier, right?”
“But wouldn’t it be? Everyone already assumes we’re married, what’s a piece of paper to prove it?”
“Exactly my point,” Percy smiles. “It’s just some legal document, and you know how I feel about the law. Plus, it would be a hell of a lot of money, time, and effort. Is that really easier than correcting people?”
“I guess not,” Annabeth sighs. “I just hate having to defend myself every time I say we’re not married.”
“So don’t,” Percy shrugs again. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation, or a reason, or anything . You correct them, if you want, and you move on. You don’t owe them shit .”
Annabeth smiles at that, and she shifts so her back is against Percy’s front, his chin resting on her head. They stay like that for a while, just breathing each other in.
“One day I’d like to be Mrs Jackson,” Annabeth says, almost shy.
“One day I’d like you to be Mrs Jackson, too,” Percy says into her hair. “But not right now. We’re good as we are, right now.”
“Yeah,” Annabeth smiles. “We’re good right now.”