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Percy felt so selfish. Why couldent he just accept he was wrong, why did he get so defensive, why did he have to feel the need to cut himself every sing time he was wrong
It all started when Annabeth asked him a dumb question he cant even remember.
He had just went back to his cabin and cried. He wasent even supposed to be crying. He was too funny and posotive for that.
Everything he had ever done wrong flashed through his mind at once, and he just couldent take it anymore.
He grabbed the blood stained box cutter from its hiding spot and dragged it across his thigh without a second thought.
"Nobody can know...okay...its okay ..." He said to the empty room.
He looked down at his thigh. It wasent bleeding enough. Well it looked like he would have to fix that wouldent he.
He dragged the box cutter over the same spot again, and again...and again.
When Percy was finally satisfied with the amount of blood, he bandaged it up, wiped his tears, and went back outside like nothing happened.
𓅓Annabeth POV:
She knew something was up with Percy, with the way he ran off so suddenley.
She was sure that hed be fine though, so she continued with her day like normal.
Eventually Percy met up with her again and greeted her cheerfully. Like he always did, but without the usual glimmer in his eye that Annabeth loved.
"Weird" she said internally.
He seemed fine to her, so they went to the dining pavilion like every night.
𓆉︎Percy POV:
He was at the dining pavilion with Annabeth, per usual, but he just didn't feel like eating. Any food he imagened made him want to gag.
He devided to just sacrifice most of his meal to the gods and hope Annabeth didn't notice.