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“Percy!” Annabeth calls from the bedroom. She’s rummaging through one of her boyfriend's drawers, trying to find the sweater he still claims is his. “Where is the gray hoodie?”
Percy sock slides into the bedroom, almost knocking into Annabeth with a giggle. He watches, amused, as she pulls open another drawer. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion when she hears a rattling from the drawer.
“Do you have a screw loose in here?” she mumbles, digging her hand further in the drawer. She grabs something and holds it up in triumph. “Aha!”
Upon further inspection from both of them, Percy’s face flushes, and Annabeth's grows more confused. “Percy. Why do you have a rock?”
Percy doesn’t answer, instead he attempts to snatch the pebble out of Annabeth's hand, but she quickly deflects. She raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh. Tell me.”
“It’s from camp,” Percy sighs. He sits on the bed, Annabeth taking the spot next to him.
“You miss New York?” She asks, soothingly running her hand up and down his leg.
“Not… not exactly,” he says. His face grows hotter and he rubs the back of his neck. “You actually gave that to me.”
Annabeth’s puzzled look is enough to make Percy want to crawl into a hole and die. “I did? When?”
“The summer we were 13… we had just gotten back from getting the golden fleece and you said it was a cool looking rock and… I kept it.”
When Percy looks up, Annabeth's eyes are filled with tears. He panics, but before he can say anything to make it better, she launches herself into his arms. She kisses every inch of his face, giggling in between each kiss.
“You.” kiss . “are.” kiss . “so.” kiss . “ridiculously.” kiss . “adorable.” kiss . “I love you.” kiss .
“I love you too,” Percy laughs.
Yeah, he’s glad he kept the rock.
+
Hazel unlocks the door to their apartment, the smell of pasta wafting in the air immediately making her hungry. She closes the door with a soft click and makes her way to the kitchen.
Frank stands over the stove, stirring a pot of boiling water and humming the tune to whatever is playing on the radio. Hazel watches as he stirs the second pot, presumably full of sauce, leaning her hip on the counter.
Frank brings the wooden spoon up to his mouth and tastes, doing a little happy dance that makes Hazel have to stifle a giggle. Frank continues to stir, shuffling his hips or shoulders to the music.
He starts sliding his feet left and right, spinning as the music swells, and almost falling on his face and letting out a very manly shriek when he catches Hazel watching him. She doubles over laughing, and Frank can't find it in him to be embarrassed when she's being this cute. After catching her breath, Hazel burrows into Frank's arms, resting her head on his chest.
“Dinner’s ready,” Frank murmurs, slowly swaying them as the music slows. Hazel hums, and Frank makes a split second decision. “Screw it. Dance with me?”
Hazel giggles and nods, and Frank begins leading them in a waltz. Hazel asks, breathless, “When did you learn to dance?”
“My mom taught me once,” Frank says, spinning Hazel under his arm.
They continue swaying and sidestepping, and as the music comes to an end, Frank dips Hazel with a yelp. The two stare at each other for a moment, breathless and giggling. Hazel leans up for a quick kiss, and Frank finally lifts her back onto her feet.
“You’re my favourite dance partner,” Hazel says.
“You’re mine, too.”
+
Magnus walks into his room to find a note laid neatly on his pillow.
Meet me on the roof at 7:30 to watch the sunset, maggie
-Alex <3
Never one to ignore a request from his girlfriend, Magnus quickly changes into a nicer pair of jeans, hopping on one foot and almost (see: definitely) falling over in the process. He swaps his shirt, combs his hair, and sprays some cologne before racing into the elevator with two minutes to spare. It brings him one floor below the roof, and he climbs the stairs two steps at a time. A few deep breaths later, he’s pushing the door open.
Alex is standing near the edge, overlooking the city. The wind whips her hair behind her, and she turns when she hears the heavy door shut. The sun creates a halo around her head, making Magnus’ mouth go dry. She smiles when she sees him. “Sit, pretty boy.”
Magnus notices the blanket for the first time, sprawling onto the ground, an assortment of cheese, fruit, and crackers spread atop. He toes his shoes off, then plops down on one side, crossing his legs. He watches as Alex riffles through her bag, unable to take his eyes off her.
The combination of her long, sage green skirt with her white button down causes all of Magnus’ thoughts to leave his brain, replaced with the words “Alex” and “pretty.”
She produces two glasses and a bottle of wine, turning her head and catching Magnus staring. She smirks, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Magnus almost whispers, the first thing he’s said all night. Alex tries to hide her blush, but Magnus sees and fills with pride knowing he caused it.
“Shut up, Maggie,” Alex says. She hands him a glass and cracks the wine open, pouring him a generous amount. “Just eat and watch the sunset with me, don’t get sappy.”
Magnus raises his glass in a toast, and they take their first sips together. They sit in comfortable silence, listening to the hustle and bustle of early evening Boston traffic, and watching the sun turn the sky orange and red.
Alex shuffles closer, almost climbing in Magnus’ lap. He chuckles, “Can I help you?”
“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” She says, and Magnus has half a mind to argue, but her soft smile convinces him to abide. (As if he wouldn’t follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked). She places a strawberry into his mouth, and he wraps his lips around her fingers before she could move them.
He opens one eye to see Alex staring at him with wide pupils, and she slowly pulls her fingers away. Without breaking eye contact, she whispers softly, “You’ve got some juice on your lip…”
“Get it for me?”
Alex nods, and leans in with a fiery kiss. She wraps her arms around Magnus’ neck, her fingers making their way to tangle into his hair.
The picnic is quickly abandoned.
+
Nico and Will sit on their bed, Nico cuddled into Will's side, a hand absentmindedly playing with his hair. They have soft music playing throughout the cabin - between that and Will’s steady breathing, it's a wonder Nico hasn’t fallen asleep yet.
Will’s notebook is resting on his lap, and he rhythmically taps his pencil, occasionally scribbling something onto the pages. He mutters to himself, making sure his sentences make sense, and editing them as he goes.
“Whatcha writing?” Nico mumbles, voice thick from sleep.
“Did I wake you?” Will coos. He closes his notebook, setting it to the side and cradles Nico’s face with his free hand. “I’m sorry sunshine.”
“No, I was–” Nico cuts himself off with a yawn, “I was awake.”
“Sure you were,” Will smiles and ruffles his boyfriend's hair. “Go back to sleep, love.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Nico pouts. He shuffles himself into a sitting position and crosses his arms. “I asked what you were writing.”
Will flushes, hoping the dim lighting of the cabin masks it. “Nothing important.”
Clearly the lighting doesn’t help, because Nico smirks. “Show me your book.”
“It’s nothing, Nico, I promise,” Will says, moving the book further from Nico. Unfortunately for Will, Nico catches the movement and leaps for the book, snatching it from Will’s hands with a yelp.
Nico holds it up in triumph, a self satisfied smile on his face. He flips to the bookmarked page as Will buries his head in his hands. Nico raises an eyebrow, “I won’t read it if it’s really that important to you.”
“No, it's fine,” Will says into his hands. He waves one in dismissal. “You won fair and square. Read it. Don't make fun of me.”
Nico opens the page again, scanning the words scrawled into the paper.
They said the end is coming
Everyone's up to something
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
Outside, they're push and shoving
You're in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was nothing
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"
To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
Nico looks up, blinking away tears that threaten to fall. He softly asks, “Did you write this about me?”
Will nods, scrunching his face in embarrassment. “I know it’s cringy, I’m sorry–”
“Will,” Nico interrupts. “It’s beautiful.”
“Really?”
“Really really.”
The two shuffle back into their earlier position, snuggled into each other, limbs tangled up and hands in hair.
Nico falls asleep this time, but not before saying, drowsily, “What a mind you have.”