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With the weight of everything that happened that day, it seemed stupid of Annabeth to be this nervous. Though it was justified, she mentally beat herself up for being so frozen in place.
She was standing in the dining pavilion, waiting out of Percy's view as he sat at the poseidon table.
She looked at Percy and felt that all-to-familiar flutter in her chest, the one she felt in too many life-or-death situations to count, all in situations where Percy did something that slightly resembled love or affection toward her. She got reminded of when they first entered the Labyrinth by mistake, when she slipped her hand in his, and he held it back.
At the time, she admired how steady, strong, and grounded he felt. How much did she want to cuddle into him for protection in that moment. Now, all she needed to do was walk up to Percy and tell him how she felt.
She was sure it was mutual, sure that he loved her too, especially with Rachel being the new oracle. She looked at him. She took a deep breath and walked toward him, holding the disfigured cupcake in her hands.
He must've been lost in thought too, as he stared longingly at the beach, the dark sky blending beautifully with the water, like a painting crafted from Apollo himself.
She slid next to him to see that he was watching Grover and Juniper as they talked in the moonlight. A fitting sight for what she wanted to do. She figured he was admiring the peacefulness that came to the afternoon.
"Hey," she said, trying to keep her persona chill, "Happy Birthday."
He stared at her for a second, then said, "What?"
Hearing his voice, even if it was a single word of question, set all of her worries to peace. This was Percy. He was here. There's nothing to worry about.
"August 18th, your birthday, right?" She said, knowing for a fact it was his birthday. Her brain would never let her forget such an important date.
He stared again. She almost called him Seaweed Brain, but she didn't. She knew what he was thinking. He had forgotten about his birthday and had been soully focused on the war, Kronos and... and Luke, the entire time. Focused on keeping as many people alive as possible. Not even worried about his own aledged, prophesised death.
'Like I should've been', she thought; the entire time her mind was traced on him, and how he looked, and how he acted, and how he would die. She had her entire mind on if he was somehow dying, if he would just drop dead in front of her and leave her like everyone else she'd ever cared about.
But he was right here, breathing, alive, and warm next to her. 'He's okay.' she reminded herself.
"Make a wish." she said.
"Did you bake this yourself?" He asked, with the barest trace of a smile on his face.
"Tyson helped." She admitted.
"That explains why it looks like a chocolate brick." He said, "With extra blue cement."
She laughed because it was accurate and admittedly funny, but the reality was that if Tyson hadn't helped, she would've burned the entire kitchen down. She had to, mid-laugh, keep herself from letting out a giggle that would of been so not her it would've been painful.
He looked at the cupcake, thought for a second, and blew out the candle. They cut the cupcake in half and ate it with their fingers. She had, looking at the frosting on his face, a totally normal urge to wipe it off for him. And kiss him too, for Goodluck.
She looked at his face. He seemed more mature now. Now that the war had subsided, she finally got a good look at him. When she first saw him at 12 years old, she liked his eyes, but nothing else. Now, he looked like (maybe she's biased, but she really doesn't care) a better version of Poseidon.
He had a defined jaw, littered with scars that she had now learned to love, a perfectly sculptured nose, high cheekbones, and the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. Green and blue seemed to dance with each other like the Mediterranean sea in the sunlight, that still held that ever-growing power (even now, after the war, he still is unbelievably powerful) she admired when they first met.
Her eyes led to his hair, even more messy than before, that had several streaks of gray layered there. She knew she had the same because of their shared experiences with the sky, but he had gained some because of the stress of the war, prophecy, and quests that had been put on him.
She knew she had shared that same stress, but it seemed like he got the more painful end. And she, now looking at him, wanted nothing more than to hug him, protect him, and maybe even kiss him a few times too.
Though he wouldn't need that protection, he was still the son of poseidon she knew. It, even after acknowledging his grown maturity and the power behind his eyes, still baffled Annabeth that this boy, with frosting all over his face, had saved the world, defeated Kronos and all of the titan army.
He was only 15 - sorry, 16. She wasn't quite used to him being the same age as her - years old, and he was the one to set Kronos on his downfall.
"You saved the world." She marveled.
"We saved the world." He corrected.
"And Rachel's the new oracle," she started, "which means she won't be dating anybody."
"You don't seem disappointed." He pointed out. She ignored the way her heart fluttered at his teasing and how that teasing proved he knew why she thought what she thought about Rachel.
"Oh, I don't care." She said, though a month ago she would've been lying out of her butt (she had hated the poor girl for no reason. She needed to make it up to her later), but she was being truthful. She was sure of Percy now. She loved him. No running away from that now.
That was one of the many things she learned from Percy. Through him, she learned to be brave. She doesn't run anymore. She fights, like him, and with him. If she wasn't sure now, then she never would be.
She still brought it up because she hoped it would lead the topic to the one she wanted it to be. It seemed to be working.
"Uh-huh." He teased.
She would never admit this to him, but she really does love it when he teases. Though, she was determined to cover that feeling up with an eyebrow raise.
"You've got something to say to me, Seaweed Brain?" She asked.
"You'd probably kick my butt." He remarked.
"You know I'd kick your butt." She held back the laugh that threatened to come out as she saw Percy's face turn serious.
"When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable... Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world," he said, "that made me want to stay mortal." He was blushing.
She thought back to when she found out about his Achilles curse. She felt, at the time, that it was him signing his fate with the Prophecy. She understood why he did it. It made the most sense and was ultimately the only reason they won, but nevertheless, she was furious. She moved her view to the horizon.
She was mad. Not at Percy. She only felt dread looking at him; But at the fates. The Greeks, for inventing tragedy, at Luke, for causing this mess, and at herself, for falling so hard for a boy that was doomed to die.
And then when he showed her his Achilles spot, when he trusted her with the only way he could die. She hadn't known what she felt, but she knew that if she was in his position, she would've done the same thing.
But now, after everything was done, and he still had his curse, the realization that he likely thought of her in the Styx, and how the thought of her had saved his life, dawned on her. she felt his gaze on her, and she fought the blush that threatened to turn up.
She wanted to smile so badly that it hurt her face to keep it neutral.
"Yeah?" She said, still looking away from him and staring at the moonlight, where Juniper and Grover seemed to be stargazing.
"Then up on olympus," he continued, "When they wanted to make me a god and stuff, I kept thinking -"
"Oh, you so wanted to." For a while, she didn't know it was possible to not want immortality; until she met Percy, and until she was offered it in the form of being a hunter. Then immortality suddenly felt like torture.
She doubted that would be mutual, though.
"Well, maybe a little. But I didn't, because I thought - I didn't want things to stay the same for eternity," he said, "because things could always get better. And I was thinking..."
Her heart felt like it grew wings. Like it was trying to jump out of her chest and fly away.
Her voice was quiet, soft when she asked, "Anyone in particular?"
That smile crept up again. It took all of her willpower to fight it down. She was giddy, excited, and relieved by what he was hinting at. To think - that she, Annabeth Chase, was the reason to Percy Jackson's rejection of immortality. Gods, she was so happy she wanted to fly away with her heart.
Though, she guessed her willpower wasn't enough to fight the smile down.
"You're laughing at me," he complained.
"I am not!" She wasn't doing a good job hiding her laugh at his exclamation.
"You are so not making this easy."
She wanted to kiss him so badly. She was done with the deep thoughts about war, or how he could've died, like, a million times - she just wanted to laugh like the kid she was.
So she did, and it felt amazing. She looked at his soft lips, the ones she had kissed what felt like decades ago. She threw her arms around him, staring at the beauty that was his face, and said:
"I am never, ever, going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it. "
She kissed him, of course, and when he kissed back, she felt like the world was blurring, melting, and swimming all at the same time. And, well, the world could've ended right there, and she wouldn't have cared.
She now knew her real world was here, kissing her; she now knew that the love she had for this man was mutual, and that was all she needed.
All she needed was him.