Chapter Text
“Two minutes till showtime, girls. Make sure everything’s ready.”
Silena nodded. “You got it, boss. Pipes, let me just fix the waist of your sweater, it’s flipped over the wrong way.”
As Piper turned around to allow her costume to be adjusted, Annabeth quickly stepped back to catch the showrunner’s attention before he disappeared.
“Sorry,” She rushed out, eager to get everything out of the way before they had to start, “I just wanted to ask- is, um, is Professor Chase out there? In the audience?”
Annabeth had since learned not to refer to her father as dad in any events attended by his associates and colleagues. They all just tended to look at her in confusion or disgust, as though their academic minds could handle the delicate political ins and outs of wars, but not the idea that a man might have a child from a woman that was clearly before marrying his current wife. Either that or, like her family, they saw her as the outlier, and unworthy of the respect that her father’s impact on his field of study commanded.
She hoped that this event would help to settle some of the glaring differences, in any case. Professor Chase saw little to no value in music and performance, some of Annabeth’s greatest passions, or in classical history, a subject of interest to her. He was a more modern historian, dedicated to the great wars of recent history, which he believed to be the only valuable thing anyone could study. Classics was a waste of time, in his eyes, resurrecting clearly bygone eras and dead languages, while music - music was for those who didn’t have the intelligence or patience to devote themselves to history. But Annabeth had been busy pulling strings in the hopes of proving their worlds could collide after all, and maybe that would make her feel like less of a stranger in her own home.
The idea had felt silly, but she’d figured he would appreciate her effort in showing interest in his field. With Silena’s help, she’d styled her hair in victory rolls and managed to scrounge together a 1940s style dress, pairing it with pillarbox red lipstick to attain the look of a woman celebrating the end of a hard-fought world war. Silena and Piper had done the same, dressing in various iterations of women’s roles throughout the period, and they’d been practising their Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy and other wartime songs for weeks. Truthfully, Annabeth hated that style of music, but if it pleased her father and his colleagues, it would be worth the work.
Taking care not to be seen, the showrunner peeked through the curtain separating the stage from the rest of the convention centre and looked around, before ducking back inside.
“I can’t see him, but he might be making his way down. Last I saw him, a couple of minutes ago, he was asking Dr Wojtek if she’d be interested in contributing to his latest manuscript.”
She nodded. “He would be honoured if she agrees. Thank you.”
He patted her on the back before he left. “Good luck. One minute, everyone!”
The girls took their spaces on the stage - Annabeth in the centre, Silena to left, Piper to the right. Three vintage-looking microphones stood in front of them, disguised to look as authentic as possible, and Annabeth knew from the soundcheck earlier that day that the old-timey radio effect she’d requested to be layered over their voices had worked perfectly.
As the curtain opened, she scanned the audience. Almost all of the seats were filled, many of them history professors like her father with their families, some students, some enthusiasts for the era who had attended the convention to learn more. At the very front, four reserved seats remained empty.
Annabeth plastered a smile onto her face as the music began, raising her hand in a coquettish salute and winking.
“He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way…”
The set consisted of five songs, each of them bouncy and celebratory, transporting the room to an era of pride and patriotism, of young women kissed by soldiers without their consent, of the elation of regular people learning that their hardships might finally come to an end. Some of the audience had begun dancing, twirling their partners or children, getting into the swing of the music and being swept away into another world. Annabeth hated it all, the glorification of such difficult times, the fascination with all the horror, the way that even the music reminded her of her father, and his empty seat, and the lump in her throat that she forced down with a beaming smile. Little by little, as they progressed through each song, her faith that he might still show up dissipated into nothing.
If anything, Annabeth felt stupid. For believing that he would. For making her friends get all dressed up and straying from their usual style all to try and win affections she was never capable of winning. For thinking that this time, his promises would actually mean something.
“We’ve been The Sirens, thank you all so much for coming!” She projected into the microphone, sounding far happier and prouder than she felt.
The audience probably thought sirens was a reference to air raid sirens, another wartime phenomenon, assuming her to be just like them, and more importantly, just like her father. It was a petty thing to be upset about, but after a lifetime of at best, being completely misunderstood, and at worst, being wilfully neglected, she allowed herself the brief moment of pettiness.
The girls grabbed hands and bowed, waiting until the curtains had shut fully before allowing their cheerful expressions and perfect postures to droop.
“Annabeth, Annabeth, hey!” Another showrunner called out for her attention, clipboard in hand. “Great show, doll. Everyone loved it. Listen, I’ve been told to pass on a message: Please let Annabeth know that Professor Chase and his family have gone out to dinner with Dr Wojtek and her team to further discuss a collaboration.” He clapped her on the arm. “Anyway, that was great, we’d love to have you back another time if you’re available.”
Piper cut in before Annabeth could answer, both her and Silena wrapping their arms around her shoulders. “We’d love to, thank you so much.”
Annabeth blinked in disbelief as the showrunner started to head off. “Gone out to din- they’re meant to be my ride home! Hey, come ba-”
Silena rubbed her upper arm, trying to placate her and stopping her mid-sentence. “We’ll take you home, you can ride with us. Forget about him.”
“Like he did to me?” She almost growled, beginning to unravel her pinned up curls on the way to the dressing room. “I can’t fucking believe him. We had a deal. He promised he would be here! I mean, am I asking too much of him, is that such an outrageous ask? I asked for one evening in exchange for an entire summer selling my soul to these Uncle Sam worshipping assholes, and I can’t even get that? What the fuck?”
Piper closed the door behind them, immediately shaking out her hair from its neat updo and headbanging until it had reached a satisfying level of wild again.
“I had low expectations, and he managed to sink even lower,” She said between shakes. “I figured he would show up halfway into the last song and give you a pat on the arm at the end, maybe call you kiddo at a push.”
Annabeth shimmied out of her dress, a small amount of her anger subsiding as the 1940s look disappeared. “I’m sorry I made you guys do this. Wasn’t worth it, and didn’t work anyway.”
Silena shrugged. “At least we got paid?”
“Not enough.” Annabeth grumbled. “I just wanna get out of here. This was stupid.”
“No it wasn’t,” Piper told her, “He’s stupid. Not you.”
That was all well and good, but it didn’t stop Annabeth from feeling stupid. They’d agreed that, if he came to watch the show, which was happening at an event he was already going to - all he had to do was be in the room - then Annabeth would give in to what he wanted, and spend her summer working as his research assistant. She had been absolutely dreading the menial tasks and dull historical sources she would be poring over, without even a respectable pay to compensate for them, but now it stung even more. Of course he hadn’t bothered with his end of the deal. He’d gotten what he wanted, so the rest didn’t matter. Being his daughter, and always looking for his approval, she would acquiesce regardless of what happened.
“When we get in the car, step on it,” She told Silena, raking her fingers through her hair to disrupt the pinned curls. “There’s something I wanna do, especially while they’re out at dinner.”
Silena’s face lit up. “Vandalism? Or we finally get to do Piper’s master plan and move your dad’s war figurines slightly off their marks so he goes crazy fixing them all?”
Annabeth considered it. “Maybe that too. I had something else in mind, though. Let’s go.”
---
Pulling up onto the driveway of the house only cemented the idea further in Annabeth’s mind. She felt sick looking at it, an instinctive response from years of hating having to return there, knowing that while a family waited inside, they didn’t see her as part of their unit. The feeling was slightly lessened by the knowledge that they were all out at dinner, and she had the place to herself, but it couldn’t completely override the years of loneliness the sight of house had ingrained in her.
This was the only way she would ever be happy. That much was clear.
Silena and Piper followed her up the two flights of stairs that led to her bedroom. When they’d first moved in, her dad and step-mom newly married with twin boys on the way, she had been given the top floor room, and was led to believe it was an exciting, big girl space just for her. Of course, as she’d grown older, she’d realised it was simply because it was out of the way of the rest of the house, a physical reminder of her separation from the nuclear family bubble that had formed without her. You’re up there, and we’re down here. The message was pretty clear.
Once inside, she began rooting through her wardrobe, much to the confusion of her friends.
“Uh, Annabeth?” Piper asked. “What’s happening, exactly?”
“Where is- aha!” She straightened, pulling out a suitcase from buried underneath old clothes and brandishing it proudly. “Found it! I knew I had this somewhere. It’s a little… small, but it’ll work. I don’t need much.”
Silena frowned. “Need much… what?”
“Stuff!” Annabeth answered. “I’m not doing that goddamn research assistant bullshit. Not when he doesn’t have the decency to stand in the corner of a room and listen to a couple of songs that we did entirely for his benefit. I have spent years trying to appease him, and- nothing! Nothing ever comes of it!”
She began tossing clothes haphazardly in the suitcase’s direction - some of her favourite show costumes, things for warm weather, things for the beach. Things that Professor Chase would never approve of. “So I’m leaving. I’m out of here.”
“Where will you go?”
Annabeth didn’t even have to think about it. “Greece. It’s about time I do something for myself. Spend a vacation doing things I want to do.”
Silena nodded. “And how are you getting to Greece?”
“Well, I probably can’t afford Greece directly, so… wherever’s closest,” She shrugged, “And see where I end up along the way. Whatever happens out there can not be worse than staying here. I can waitress, or sing for money, I’ll take my savings, I’ll make it work.” She paused. “There’s a big, wide world out there. I wanna see it. And I’m not letting him hold me back anymore. I’m gonna make some memories.”
Piper folded one of her dresses, slipping it neatly into the suitcase for her. “We’ll be right behind you. Well— not right behind you, I still gotta work a couple of shifts before I can request leave, and Silena’s gonna want her entire body waxed, polished, tanned and spray-painted gold before she even thinks about heading somewhere like Greece, but we’ll meet you there. Make it a girls trip.”
“That way, Freddie can’t harass us about where you’ve run off to. If you wanted to know, maybe you should’ve been a better dad.” Silena added, deciding not to bother arguing Piper’s assessment of her habits.
Annabeth stopped digging through clothes, reaching out to grab a hand each from her friends. “I love you girls, so much . You’ve been here with me through all of this - you’re the only reason I got through it. You’re the reason I’m getting out of it.”
Silena nodded. “You deserve it. I’ll drive you to the airport whenever you wanna go. We’ll walk you in as far as we can, whatever it takes.”
“I’m going tonight.”
“Tonight? As in, tonight? ”
“As in, now. ” Annabeth confirmed. “Whenever the next plane leaves, I’m getting on that one, and I’m going. I want to be gone before those assholes have even finished dessert.”
Piper gasped. “I love this colour on you. Coming to you this summer: Annabeth Chase, like you’ve never seen her before, starring in the world premiere of I no longer give a fuck. Critics are hopeful for fruity cocktails, European men, and the sexiest golden tan you’ve ever seen in your life.”
Annabeth winked. “Who am I to deny the critics what they want? I’ll go one better, maybe I’ll marry a European prince.”
“Stop, you’re describing my dream,” Silena sighed, “You’d look so good in a tiara discussing foreign affairs.”
Piper frowned. “That’s so specific.”
“I’ve thought about it before, okay? Maybe then I’d pay attention to politics.”
“It’s extremely concerning that you don’t already.”
As the girls lapsed into conversation, Annabeth tuned out, momentarily abandoning her suitcase as she made her way towards the window. She parted the curtains and opened it wide, staring out into the evening with a heart that felt both heavy and light at the same time. There was still the chance for her to back out, to give in and bow her head and take the research position anyway. She would be busy with menial, dull tasks, imprisoned in pencil skirts and shades of grey, at the beck and call of superiors who cared little about anything other than their own hypotheses. At the end of summer, she would likely be offered a position by her dad or a colleague, and commit herself full-time to his study, slowly but surely letting go of the unproductive passions she had developed in her free time. In twenty or so years, she would have a townhouse of her own like this one, wedged in the middle of a bland street dictated by a tyrannical HOA, perhaps with a son or daughter of her own, tucked away in the upstairs bedroom, gazing out of the window in an effort to imagine what else might be out there. The cycle would just repeat, again and again and again, until she broke it.
She had to break free.
“I’ll write to you,” Annabeth promised, interrupting the conversation as she gathered her thoughts and hastily zipped the bag shut, “Both of you. I’ll let you know where I am, what I’m doing-”
“ Who you’re doing…”
“Silena- I’ll keep you both updated, alright? Don’t say anything to anyone, I just want you to know I’m safe.”
Silena grabbed her face, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “You get out there and shine , okay? Have the best time, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Piper cocked her head. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”
Silena elbowed her. “We’ll see you soon, honey. I expect an entirely new Annabeth to greet me when I get to Greece, alright?”
“Oh, she will.” Annabeth beamed. “I have a good feeling that I’m gonna find her out there.”
---
As it turned out, Paris was as far as Annabeth’s limited funds could get her by plane, so her prediction of not making it all the way had been correct. She’d grabbed the first possible lodgings she could find, a shabby-looking hostel filled with an equal mix of young backpackers, sleazy weirdos and strong, silent types, and while it offered an authentic travelling experience for a young woman going solo for the first time, she decided not to trust anybody inside, or the complimentary lockers, and kept her belongings with her at all times. Part of her wished she had planned better, to maybe look up an affordable, somewhat nicer place to stay in the meantime, but she had to admit that the breezy, take-life-as-it-comes approach was already doing her ever-present anxiety some good. She’d reserved herself a space in the hostel for one night only, determined to force herself to move on in any way she could.
Adventure sometimes needed a little prompting, and despite the warnings not to, Annabeth was happy to poke and prod at the glass until it woke up.
The first thing on her agenda, which was more of a mental list of fancies that came to mind as she wandered, was to visit a nice Parisian café. Truth be told, she was flagging from the long flight, and while ticking off a travel bucket list as quickly as possible was ideal as she figured out her way to Greece, she was also in desperate need of a coffee to wake herself up. Adventure didn’t come to those who slept - or gave in to their jetlag.
Her wanderings had taken her down several small side streets, away from the touristic hustle and bustle of the main city. Annabeth kept going, eyes wide for any indication of somewhere to stop along the narrow lane, until she finally came across a sign out front, helpfully displaying a steaming cup of coffee, and ducked inside.
The interior was dark, glamorous and gloriously French , like it had been taken straight out of a magazine, a movie, or whatever glamourised, Americanised fantasy of a Parisian coffee shop might look like. The aromas hit her instantly, rich coffee, baking pastries, hot chocolate served with fresh cream. It was endlessly better than an old library, poring over names and et al ’s that she couldn’t have cared less about.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too busy inside. Most of the tables were free, and the occupants of those that weren’t seemed to be keeping to themselves, all of them silent with their heads bowed, busy with sketching, writing or simply enjoying a moment’s peace. There was almost no noise beyond the whistle of things boiling and the clink of spoons against glasses, creating a warm, almost studious atmosphere. Other than the three or four people dotted around at individual tables, there was one person in front of Annabeth, politely ordering a coffee. She listened as he spoke, squinting at the menus above the counter in the hopes of figuring out what to say.
Okay, maybe she should have studied up a little harder on her French. Annabeth had a very basic knowledge, which she hoped would be enough to get by. It wouldn’t matter too much in any case, she’d reasoned, knowing her time in France would be brief.
The man in front of her stepped aside to wait, gesturing Annabeth forward. She gave him a short nod, praying she could repeat his words without sounding like a complete imbecile. The listless stare of the barista did little to ease her nerves, but she forged ahead anyway. Adventure, dammit.
“Uh… je voudrais prendre un café, s’il vous plaît ,” She managed, breathing a sigh of relief when the barista turned away, relaying the order.
The man offered a smile. “Hey, that was pretty good. Your accent’s not bad at all.”
Annabeth blinked. “I was copying yours, to be honest. I thought you were French! You’re not?”
“American as they come,” He shrugged.
“Not even a French mom or something? You sound really convincing!”
“To the untrained ear,” He responded, then blushed. “Um- sorry. That sounds so rude. I wasn’t insulting you. I- you pick it up with study, plus being here has really helped my accent and understanding develop. I’ve picked up more here in three weeks than I have during an entire semester at college.”
Annabeth nodded. “So she’s not French?”
He laughed. “Nope. Los Angeles.”
“No way! I would not have pegged you as a Cali guy. You surf, skateboard?”
He pulled a face, clearly in good humour. “Do I really give off a surfer vibe to you?”
That was a pretty poor observation on Annabeth’s part. Other than being blonde, nothing about this guy suggested he spent his days out in sun and sea. His hair was neat and trimmed short, with pale skin and bright blue eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses. He was handsome in a reserved, polished sort of way, very much the all-American boy that practically any father would feel comfortable with their daughter bringing home. He looked a little more like he spent his days in old libraries. As she studied him, he offered his hand, and she shook it.
“No, not really,” She agreed. “I’m Annabeth. People tend to assume I’m a Cali girl, but I’m actually from Virginia.”
“Nice to meet you, Annabeth. I’m Jason, Jason Grace. You know, I’ve actually not seen another American in this café until now.”
Annabeth murmured a “ merci,” to the barista, taking her coffee and adjusting its position on the little saucer. “Neither have I.”
Jason took his, inhaling the heady scent as the steam curled from the top of the cup. “How long have you been coming here?”
She grinned. “My flight got in an hour ago.”
“Ah! Well, that’ll be why.” He laughed. “How long are you here for? Planning on seeing any sights?”
Annabeth took a sip, burning her tongue slightly in the process. “ Shit, that’s hot. Um, I don’t really have a plan, per se. I’m headed for Greece, so I’ll probably stay a night here and then jump on a train and see where I end up. I gotta know - is the Eiffel Tower a must-see or can I look at it from afar and call it a day?”
Jason thought about it. “If you’re only here for a short time, you’re gonna wanna see it at night. It looks amazing all lit up. I can show you a good spot, if you like.” His eyes suddenly went wide, his cheeks colouring. “If- If that’s not too forward of me, I’m not trying to do anything weird, just thought-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Annabeth put him out of his misery quickly, “You’re fine. That sounds nice, actually. Like a tour guide, but one I’ll actually be able to understand.”
He beamed at her. “Hey, uh- I’m sitting over here, if you wanna join me. I got up to get some croissants a few minutes ago, and I guess I hesitated before I spoke, because she misheard me and assumed I wanted two. You can have the other one, save it from going to waste.”
She followed his eyeline to the little table he was at; he’d clearly been settled there for a while, despite the early hour, a pile of textbooks, pencils and a notepad filling the space, while his plate of croissants and the previous coffee cup were stacked on the adjacent table. A croissant did sound good - the plane food had been beyond dire, and her stomach had been rumbling at all the amazing boulangerie smells as she’d walked by. Shrugging, Annabeth accepted his offer and sat down opposite him, peering over at the books to try and guess what he was studying. From upside-down, it was hard to tell.
“What’s all this, huh?” She asked, nosing at the pile. “Anything interesting? What’s your major?”
Jason looked a little embarrassed, his cheeks colouring. “Eh, not really. It’s political science. I like it, but it’s very boring at times, and I know everyone who doesn’t do poli-sci thinks we’re all insane. The international relations stuff is tricky, but kinda cool. It’s why I’ve been studying French.”
“Huh,” Annabeth nodded, taking it in. “I’m impressed. You have it all mapped out, don’t you?”
He shrugged, bashful. “I guess. I just like to take charge, have everything in its order, and do it step by step.”
“I decided to come here about thirteen hours ago.” Annabeth laughed. “I respect that, though. I like a solid plan. Mine tend to be more off the cuff, but I’m still a planner. Just more of a last minute one.”
He cracked a smile. “I wish I was like that. I want to be. I’ve never done anything spontaneous in my life. My sister on the other hand, most impulsive person I’ve ever met. So’s my mom. Somehow it never rubbed off on me.”
“Maybe that’s for the best. The world needs level-headed, sensible people.”
“God, could I sound more boring?”
Annabeth laughed again. “I realised as soon as I said it. Hey! You say you’ve never done anything spontaneous before, but you invited a girl you only just met to go see the Eiffel Tower at night. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Jason grinned. “It must be you. It’s your influence.”
“You’re practically on the highway to hell already. All you need now is something to loosen you up a little, and you’re there.”
His eyebrows raised. “Oh, I got that covered already. You can’t survive being this high-strung without picking up a thing or two to help.”
He took on a secretive expression, reaching over to open the bag sitting beside him. Near the top, neatly tucked underneath another notepad, which he carefully shifted aside, she lifted her gaze just enough to spot some rolling papers, along with a couple of already-rolled joints in a clear pencil case. She let out a quiet gasp, taking on a faux-scandalised look and appraising Jason in a different light.
“Oh! You bad boy, look at that! Is that legal here?”
Jason shook his head. “No, but it’s not hard to find. For me, anyway. See, I’m not a total rule-following robot.”
“Most definitely not.” She laughed. “I knew there was a reason I had to come over here.”
“You’ve smoked before then, I’m guessing? Wouldn’t want you coughing and spluttering everywhere.”
“Such a gentleman,” Annabeth grinned at him. “Yeah, I have. Pretty much anything my dad shits on, I make it a point to tick it off the list.” She paused. “Within reason, obviously. I’ve never done heroin and I don’t plan on annexing Poland anytime soon, you know.”
Jason sighed. “Dammit. There goes my weekend plans.”
They talked for what felt like hours, the passage of time indistinguishable inside the walls of somewhere so detached from the craziness of mainstream Paris. Jason was interesting, despite how cookie-cutter perfect he seemed on the exterior. She had been right in thinking that he was the kind of guy that she could bring home to her father, which was initially off-putting. Knowing he would approve of him made her want to run at full speed in the opposite direction, her contrarian nature something it seemed she would never grow out of. But there being more to Jason than met the eye was reassuring, and the thought of how irate Professor Chase would be if he found out that the nice young man his daughter was seeing was a little more liberal than he seemed, was pleasing enough to quell her previous urge. And besides, she had left America behind for the summer with the intention of living life on her own terms, and not according to Professor Chase - so it was the least she could do to push him to the back of her mind, and make her own decisions.
And she had decided Jason was nice. Worth her time, if she wanted to give it to him.
The pastries and coffees were consumed quickly, and conversation flowed easily between the two. When it became clear that their mouths would run dry far quicker than the well of things to talk about, Jason had a sweet offer.
“How about a walk along the Seine?” He suggested, nodding towards the window. She had hardly realised it, but in the time they’d been talking, the sky had begun to fade into a burnished orange. “It can take us close to where I had in mind, and there’s a beautiful walkway.”
Annabeth thought about it. She was exhausted, even with the strong coffee they’d drank, and if she was planning on sleeping in that crappy hostel, it was probably best to do it while most people were still out for the day, in the interest of minimising her time spent vulnerable around a bunch of creeps. On the other hand, she didn’t feel much like trudging her way back just for the sake of getting her twenty euros worth.
Fuck it. Adventure didn’t come to those who napped. She had to grab it with both hands, tired or not.
“That sounds nice. Let’s do it.”
---
There was a slight chill in the air, but other than that, it was a bright, balmy evening. Annabeth could see why the city attracted so many lovers from across the world. In the quiet, away from the grittier parts, it felt private and romantic, like all of the beautiful sights existed solely for their eyes, and would disappear once they looked away. Jason offered her his coat, draping it over her shoulders as they walked and pointing out bits of history she might not have known. She listened with interest, giggling when her hand brushed against his and he stumbled over his words. The shyness was endearing.
She linked their hands. “Just so we don’t get lost. I don’t know my way around.”
He squeezed. “Don’t worry, I won’t let go.”
They smoked as they went, the darkening sky feeling like a safety blanket to keep anyone from noticing or caring - not that they would anyway. Annabeth watched the smoke curl upwards from her lips, each shape and pattern unique, until they disintegrated into the wind. There was a beauty in the ephemerality of it, existing only for seconds before disappearing in front of her eyes. It was the same sort of beauty that would colour her time with Jason, she thought. While it wouldn’t last long, it was pleasing in its fleeting moments.
Along the way, they passed a few market stalls, located strategically to catch tourists at the height of their whimsies. Perhaps it was the beginnings of her high, or just the magic of the city, but as they walked by, most of the stalls either closing for the night or otherwise engaged, Annabeth slid in between the rows of magnets and trinkets to grab a small padlock and tuck it into her pocket. Piper had gone through a phase when they were fifteen, and though it was long behind her now, she had taught Annabeth and Silena a few tricks, just in case. It might not have been the emergency Annabeth swore she would use her new powers for, but it was always good to stay sharp.
Jason, evidently chilled out from the joint, only laughed and looked confused. “Why do you need…?”
He trailed off as she pointed behind them, the bridge they’d been heading towards finally coming into view. Almost every inch of it was covered in locks, all different sizes and colours.
“Ah…” He nodded. “I see. Okay, let’s do it.”
They managed to find a spot where theirs would fit, its small size thankfully an advantage. Neither of them had a way to scratch or draw their initials into it, but in a way, that was better. It didn’t need tying back to either of them. The partnership wasn’t built to last, only the promises.
Annabeth clutched it tightly in her fist as Jason clicked it shut against the railing. “I’m going to seize every opportunity I find. I’m gonna live for me, and not some stupid old man who thinks he owns me. And I’ll find my happiness that way. Now you.”
Jason touched the cold metal. “I’m going to be spontaneous.”
He threw the key into the Seine. “There. Now we can’t go back on it.”
“You’re off to a pretty good start, if you ask me.”
They kept going. Annabeth’s head and heart felt light, buoyed by good company and good weed, and it seemed as though the night would stretch on forever. Before long, though, Jason came to a stop, leading her away from the path they’d been on and over to a patch of grass on a slight incline. The area was peaceful and deserted, and just up ahead of them, the Eiffel Tower glowed golden against the inky night sky.
It was such an impressive feat of engineering that Annabeth found herself transfixed, gazing upwards at its full height, so much taller than she’d expected. She thought about the level of detail, how much work it had taken, the skill it would’ve required to undertake a project like this in the 1880s. Stranger still, she thought about how there had once been a Paris without an Eiffel Tower, the thing that it was so synonymous with.
“I want to make an impact like that,” She said, her voice floating out, her words dancing around them. Jason had laid down a blanket to protect against the dewy grass, where they’d shared a second joint. “A permanent change to something, in a good way. Like, bam. You look and you associate me with the thing that made all that difference.”
Jason nodded slowly. “I can totally see that. I want that, kinda. Like you know I made a difference but maybe you don’t know it was me that did it.”
“You have less ego than me.” She shrugged, looking away from the tower. Jason looked pretty in the low light, the tip of the joint alight and glowing between his lips. She plucked it out before he could protest, taking a drag for herself. “Come here, come here,” She beckoned him, “Blowbacks.”
She exhaled the smoke towards him. He grinned, throwing his head back in a laugh. “I feel fucking great. What a beautiful night.”
Annabeth leaned her head against his shoulder, the joint between her teeth. It had definitely been worth seeing the tower at night, she decided.
He bumped her shoulder lightly. “You done with that?” He asked, nodding to the tiny stump that was left of it.
“Why? You want your turn again?” She teased.
Jason shook his head. “No. I want to kiss you, and I can’t be spontaneous until you’re done.”
Annabeth exhaled again. Kissing Jason rolled through her mind as an idea. She was sure there was a list of pros and cons in there somewhere, but her thoughts felt thick and cloudy and pleasant, and she didn’t feel much like digging through them to find logic and reasoning beneath it. It felt like a good idea in her gut.
She tossed the remainder away, landing somewhere behind her, and wrapped her arms around him. His form was strong, broadly built and solid, and he was warm to the touch even without the added layer of his jacket. The kiss was not intense and firm, neither rushed nor frenzied, but comforting and complementary to the feeling of being stoned. It was fun, effortless, like the answer to a question she hadn’t remembered asking, but was glad to discover. Jason leaned back, and she guided herself on top of him, sitting across his lap, laying him down beneath her. When they broke apart, he watched her chest heaving up and down, inches from his face.
“My hostel is like, three miles away at this point,” She murmured, trying to place its location mentally and failing. “Where are you staying?”
“Around the corner,” Jason sounded out of breath. “You want to-”
“In a minute,” She cut him off, “I liked where we just were.”
She kissed him again, pressing herself flat against Jason’s chest. He held her steady, carefully manoeuvring her until she was underneath him. His jacket was still around her shoulders, while her arms were free and covered in goosebumps from the cool night air as she hung them around his neck. Jason kissed her like they had all the time in the world, migrating from her lips to the side of her face, her jaw, her neck. He lingered near her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin, and she encouraged him lower with a wistful sigh, tugging his head down to where her sundress pooled around her hips.
Where he had been a little shy before, the weed and her encouragement made him generous and confident, and more than once she clamped her thighs together to hold him in place, bucking and groaning and staring up at the Eiffel Tower above them. Annabeth was pretty used to how most boys operated, with their grabby hands and clumsy movements, so Jason’s gentle touch and skilled tongue were a pleasant surprise. She felt tingly and warm all over, only vaguely aware of his hands hooking underneath her bent legs, slowly stroking the soft skin with his thumb in an absent, soothing gesture. Even eating her out, he was polite. A gentleman, indeed. She resisted the urge to compliment his table manners, though giggled to herself at her own joke anyway.
It was a nice feeling, being able to laugh at someone genuinely kind and well-intentioned like Jason. He refused to take his jacket back from her, even as he shivered, while the heated flush of her skin was enough to keep her warm the entire way back to the hotel.
Inside, they wasted no time. The sudden change from cold night air to the warmth of the hotel room had them rushing to undress, the lingering high removing any sort of self-consciousness that would otherwise taint the moment. Sex was beautiful, nudity was beautiful, and Annabeth registered a deep-rooted appreciation for Jason’s masculine form, the ridges and plains of his muscles, along with her own feminine shape, the softness and roundness she had often lamented in the mirror. Everywhere he touched, everywhere his eyes landed, she swore to never criticise again. How could she when the human form was so perfect as it was?
She rested her head against his chest as she caught her breath, watching the rhythmic rise and fall as he did the same. Jason put an arm around her, pressing a kiss in what she was sure was now a tousled wreck of curls.
“Wow… thank you,” He whispered. She laughed. “What?”
“I don’t know!” She giggled, trying to stifle it behind her fist. “It’s just funny. I don’t think I’ve ever been thanked for it before.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you should have been. You were wonderful.”
“Thank you.” She laughed again. “Hey, you know what? We should go to Amsterdam.”
Jason frowned, but in a way that seemed more thoughtful than outright refusing. “What?”
Annabeth shifted, her hand squarely in the middle of his bare chest. “Well, I want to get to Greece. Kalokairi, specifically. It’s this little island I read about years ago. But just Greece, first. And that’s on the way, and you’re all spontaneous now, and I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower so I might as well move on to the next thing. Thoughts?”
“Nope, not thinking. Spontaneous, remember?” Jason tapped a finger against his temple. “I’m in. Let’s do it.”
“Great, ‘cus I was gonna go anyway.” She grinned.
As she drifted off to sleep, Jason at her side, she wondered if the people at the hostel would give her the twenty euros back. It seemed unlikely.