Work Text:
A rainy day, windows open, pen gliding over paper. Annabeth’s ideal day.
It was a rarity she got to experience, the few days she was home, no monsters, just her and the books.
And Percy.
Wherever Annabeth was, her other half was likely not far away.
Currently he was seated next to her, slumped on the table.
Annabeth sighed, gently lifting his head up to remove the books under it.
“Don’t drool on my books, Seaweed Brain. Might get drool on it.”
Percy hummed in response, tilting his head up to look at her.
“It was comfy..”
He pouted. His love continued to write. His eyes went to her face, then her eyes, sharpened with focus.
He gently took her right hand. The pen stilled as Annabeth looked at him with soft eyes (only for him, hah!) before continuing to write.
Percy played with the scarred, rough fingers, almost sleepy. Then he kissed the tip of her index finger once, twice, before moving to a spot on her palm. She looked amused.
“What’re you doing, Seaweed Brain?”
He murmured back, eyes never leaving her hand.
“Leaving my affections on you, Wise Girl.”
Annabeth huffed softly.
“On my hand?”
Percy smiled sleepily, resting his cheek in her palm.
“It’s still you.” He whispered, kissing the same three spots again. “And it’s your non-dominant hand, it needs love too.”
She smiled, kissing his chin, once, twice, thrice.
“Dork.” She teased gently as her focus returned to her writing. “My Dork.”
——————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They say every mole and freckle is where you’ve been kissed the most by your soulmate in your past life.
120 years in the future from that incident, the soul which once formerly lived as a blonde, grey eyed demigod wondered if that was true for the three moles on their right, non-dominant hand.
When they mused aloud to their best friend about the subject, the other snorted.
“Well, guess they really liked kissing my chin then.”
——————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Percy and Annabeth’s lives revolved around the other’s.
The pains, the anger, the hatred, the sorrow, everything was shared, everything was felt.
Even in tragedy...
….they stayed.
When the evening of Annabeth’s life approached, all Percy did was take her hand in his own wrinkled, unsteady one, kissed her right hand- index finger twice, palm once, and whispered as she pressed a final, trembling kiss to his chin.
“Whichever life we live next, I’ll always choose you. You’re not leaving me that easily, Wise Girl.”
Annabeth smiled as the last of life left her.
“We’re stuck together, Seaweed Brain.”
——————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere, someone read this story and wondered who the hell the Percy to their Annabeth was, as they finally went out to touch some grass.