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October was closing in, the days growing shorter like a flame swallowing a match. Dark clouds swelled over New York, hanging heavy and low, as if Atlas was buckling at the knee. Annabeth was tired. She had stumbled through a day of classes, allowing herself to be merely above average instead of her usual excellent. After a tasteless dinner where she did her best to say as little as possible to anyone, she had withdrawn to her dorm, grateful that this stuffy boarding school at least granted her the solace of a single room. It was a dingy box, with an uncomfortable twin bed that squeaked whenever she moved, and a wardrobe so battered it was on the verge of tipping over. But it was home, and she had a desk wide enough for (most) of her books, and a large window next to her bed overlooking the school courtyard. Annabeth often spent her evenings gazing out at the moon, pretending she could see familiar constellations somewhere behind the smog and artificial light of New York City. Tonight was moonless, and the sky was just a cavernous void staring back at her. Annabeth tried not to draw any parallels.
If not for the Iris Message, she would have passed the entire evening in resigned silence, staring at her ominously-stained ceiling. In her fog, she had forgotten all about the plan she’d made with Percy just a few days ago. It wasn’t like her to forget these things. Usually it was her who called Percy, making him jump in his room as he tapped away at his desk and pretended to do homework. But tonight, it was her turn to be taken by surprise.
Annabeth did her best to smile and pretend she was okay. She hoped the fuzzy ripples of the Iris Message would disguise her red-rimmed eyes. They talked about their days. Percy had narrowly avoided detention (again) after getting into an argument with his biology teacher (again) about the correct term for a deep sea fish. Sally had made spaghetti for dinner and cupcakes for dessert. The new blink 182 album was lame. Annabeth let it all wash over her.
They said goodnight, and Annabeth was suddenly alone again. As the faint rainbow hues dissipated into the still air of her room, all colour seemed to drain way with it. Annabeth’s heart sank low. Talking to Percy had lifted her spirits more than she realised, and now he was gone, she felt even lonelier than before. She thought about calling him back, but that would mean being honest with him about how she was feeling, and that was scarier than feeling the weight of her sadness alone. So instead she lay on her back and gave into wallowing, hoping that sleep would eventually overcome her.
When she first heard the knock at the window, she thought she was dreaming.
Annabeth sat up and instinctively reached for her dagger, which lay in its usual place beneath her pillow. Her senses were on high alert as she scanned her window. Nothing appeared behind the glass. She leaned forward and held her breath.
Knock knock knock.
There it was again, more insistent this time. Annabeth began mentally running through scenarios. A monster? She had never met a monster with the courtesy to knock before, but there was a first time for everything.
Annabeth sat up on her knees, her knife raised. Carefully, she unlatched her window. When nothing immediately flew into her room to attack her, she tentatively put her head outside, and looked down.
Percy was dangling underneath her, one arm wrapped around a water pipe nailed into the brickwork, and his other hand gripping a fistful of dense ivy vines. Despite the effort it took him to hang there, he tried for an easy smile when they locked eyes, which came across as more of a grimace. Annabeth’s blonde curls swayed in the evening breeze, her knife aloft and jaw hanging open.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,” Percy wheezed. “Please let me in?”
That wasn’t how the line was meant to go, but Percy’s grip was beginning to weaken. His voice was enough to bring Annabeth back to reality, though she wasn’t sure the actually believed the reality in front of her.
“Percy, what the fu-”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m about to fall to my death. Can you let me in already?”
Annabeth was feeling a lot of things, but murderous wasn’t one of them. She pulled back into the room, throwing her knife onto her pillow and opening her window as wide as it would go. Then, she grabbed Percy’s arm and started to pull, helping him to hoist himself up and over her window ledge. Cursing, he crashed unceremoniously onto her bed, making so much noise that Annabeth was certain the house mistress would be banging down her door any second.
Annabeth stood in front of her bed as Percy closed the window behind him. He had a black rucksack slung over his shoulder. Was he running away? No, the rucksack seemed too empty, laying flat against his side. Then again, Percy was never the most prepared packer. He shrugged the bag onto her mattress and stood up, catching his breath.
“Hey,” said Percy casually, as if he hadn’t just crawled through her window in the middle of the night. He rubbed his shoulders, which were likely strained from his ascent.
That was the final straw. Annabeth kept her voice low but forceful as she said, “Percy, what the Hades are you doing here?”
Percy stood very still, like he was afraid a sudden move would make her attack. He gave her a sheepish smile. “I came to see you.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“It’s, like, 10pm. That’s not the middle of the night.”
Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you have any idea how much trouble I could get into?”
“Yeah, I know, but-“
“This is insane, even for you!”
“Yeah, yeah, but-“
“What’s going on? Is there…is there a quest? Are you in trouble?” Annabeth asked, suddenly panicking.
“No, nothing’s happening,” Percy said, which made Annabeth feel relieved, but then even more confused. Percy looked shifty, his eyes not quite meeting her gaze. He kept rubbing his shoulders as if he was trying to keep his hands busy.
Annabeth tried to count to ten. She made it to four. “Then why-”
“You seemed sad,” Percy blurted out. Annabeth froze. For a few moments, neither moved a muscle. Percy’s eyes were flitting across her face, trying desperately to gauge her reaction. Annabeth wasn’t making it easy, mainly because she didn’t know how to react.
The silence became awkward. Annabeth’s fists were balled, but her expression had softened from fury to bewilderment. Percy looked like he was holding his breath. He put his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor, as if the blonde hair strands stuck in her beige carpet were fascinating.
Without looking up at her, Percy said quietly, “When we talked earlier, you seemed really sad.”
Annabeth had a lot of questions, but all that came out was a strained, “What?”
Percy looked up at her, his eyes sincere, brow furrowed in anxiety. It was an expression she had once told him was cute, when she was lying on a chaise longe with poison in her shoulder. It was enough to disarm her now. Her fists relaxed into shaking hands.
“Look, I know it’s dumb. But you seemed really sad, and I got worried, so I had this idea…” Percy trailed off, gesturing towards the backpack. “I brought you a cupcake.”
“You…” Annabeth was speechless. She felt her resolve drain away, taking with it the last remnants of strength in her limbs. Her legs shook. Her eyes watered. “You snuck out, hauled yourself across the city, scaled my wall like Spider-Man, and brought me a cupcake…because I seemed sad?”
Percy’s ears turned pink. He looked down at his shoes, which were scuffed from the climb. Sally would not be thrilled about that. “Yeah, I know, this was a bad ide-“
Annabeth moved without thinking, crossing the space between them and throwing her arms around his torso. He smelled like the sea and Sally Jackson’s favourite jasmine-scented laundry detergent. Annabeth buried her face in his chest and started to cry.
Percy was very still, his arms still raised in surprise. When Annabeth had first started moving towards him, he had flinched, as if expecting a blow. But now her arms were circled tightly around him, her tears making his hoodie damp.
The last time she had held him like this was before their quest in the Labyrinth.
Percy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, placing a hand behind her head. “Hey,” he said softly into her hair. “It’s okay.”
Annabeth hated crying. She hated how it made her sniffle pathetically like a child. She hated the feeling of tears on her cheeks and in her hairline, how the salt stung her skin and left it raw. She hated how crying seemed to undo her from the inside out, wrenching sobs from her chest. Most of all, she hated that she cried so much. For all her strength and stoicism, Annabeth Chase was a known crybaby. It wasn’t a typical trait in children of Athena. It wasn’t a Chase trait, either. But Annabeth cried easily and often, and she hated herself for it. Sometimes she wondered if there was just too much water inside her. Maybe that’s what drew her to Percy.
Percy had seen her cry more than most, even more than Luke and Thalia. Each time seemed to catch him unawares, like they were going off-script, entering uncharted territory. It made Annabeth feel even more insecure about it. If the person who knew her best in the whole world found her tears so out of character, how could she ever accept it in herself?
They stood entangled for a long while, until finally Annabeth began to calm down, her breaths deeper and fuller. Percy was still holding her, rubbing small circles in her back. Annabeth began to pull back, instinctively using her hand to cover her face, which she was certain was covered in snot in a very unattractive way.
“Find tissues,” Annabeth mumbled into her palm as Percy released her. She turned to her bedside table, rifling through the top draw until she found a small packet of Kleenex. Percy sat down on her bed as she blew her nose.
“Sorry,” Annabeth said quietly after a long silence. She balled up the tissue and tossed it in her wastepaper bin.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Percy said gently, as Annabeth turned to face him.
Under other circumstances, she might have teased him. He was currently perched on the edge of her mattress, as if not sure he was allowed to be there. Annabeth realised that this was the first time they had been alone in her room. Percy had helped her move in, hauling her boxes up the stairs with her dad and complaining that she had too many books. Mr Chase had chosen to ignore that comment in favour of Percy’s better qualities.
Moments like this reminded Annabeth that she and Percy had only been dating for two months.
After years of friendship so much of their relationship came easily, but there were a lot of firsts, too. Sometimes the transition to being a couple was hardly noticeable. Sometimes it felt like being spun around blindfolded and asked to walk in a straight line.
Annabeth sat down on her bed, her back to the headboard. Silence settled over the room. Percy’s Green Day hoodie was sporting a damp patch in the centre, right next to the heart-shaped hand grenade. He fidgeted with the edge of her blanket, patiently waiting. Annabeth realised after some time that he was waiting for her.
“So,” she said finally, wincing at how cracked her voice sounded after crying.
Percy looked up, a small smile on his lips. “So….bad day?”
Annabeth exhaled through her nose. “Something like that.”
Annabeth racked her brains to think of what to say. She would rather take another poisoned knife than admit what was actually weighing on her. But Percy’s eyes were searching hers, and she knew that, despite the huge amounts of kelp swirling around his head, he was good at reading her. Too good. That’s what had led him to her dorm in the middle of the night - or 10pm - in the first place.
“You’re trying to decide what to tell me, huh?” Percy asked suddenly, his lips quirking into his signature crooked smile.
Annabeth was stunned for the second time that night. Could he read her mind? She sighed and said, “Your head is full of kelp.”
Deflection, her old friend.
Except Percy wasn’t so easily deterred.
“I know you, Chase.”
Annabeth felt exposed, suddenly very aware of herself. Goosebumps rose on the exposed flesh of her forearms. She pulled a leg up to her chest, as if trying to put up a line of defence. But she knew it was useless. Annabeth had tried many times to put up walls to keep Percy Jackson at a safe distance. She had never managed to build one that he couldn’t climb.
And tonight, he had literally scaled her wall to reach her. That left her with two options: lying, or telling the truth. And as much as she was scared of the truth, she just couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. Percy deserved better than that.
“I still feel like it’s my fault,” she confessed, staring down at the callouses on her palms.
Percy frowned. “Like what’s your fault?”
“The war.”
Annabeth felt her eyes well up again as the words left her mouth. She did not dare look up from her hands. If she saw Percy’s eyes - full of worry and confusion and sorrow and sympathy and everything she felt she did not deserve - she would become a wreck all over again.
“Annabeth,” Percy said finally, voice choked. Annabeth dug her nails into her palms, desperate to stop the tears from falling.
Percy placed a hand on hers, and she recoiled instinctively. She did not deserve the softness of his touch. She couldn’t handle it right now.
“Sorry,” Percy said immediately, pulling his hand back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay,” Annabeth cut him off, unable to tolerate the remorse in his voice. As if he had done anything wrong. As if he could ever do anything wrong. “I just…I don’t want to cry again.”
Percy nodded. “I get you. But you can cry if you need to. I don’t mind. You’re allowed to feel things.”
Annabeth snorted. “You sound like my counsellor.”
Percy let out a light laugh. “Ugh, I know right. Mine keeps telling me that my feelings are “valid.” What the Hades does that mean?”
Annabeth laughed despite herself. “I hate when my counsellor says that.”
“The other day, my counsellor was trying to tell me that I should feel really lucky to be at this school, because some kids around the world have to deal with real problems, like war-”
Annabeth interrupted him by bursting into a fit of giggles. Percy joined her. As she laughed, she felt herself feel more solid, like she was gaining back ground. Percy was always doing that - anchoring her back to reality. When they had both calmed down, Percy settled further back on her bed towards the window, swinging one leg up onto the mattress.
Percy’s expression turned serious again, and Annabeth realised there was no laughing her way out of this conversation. “Annabeth,” Percy said with a sincerity and conviction that those who knew him less would call uncharacteristic. “The war was not your fault.”
Annabeth fiddled with the cuff of her sock. “Kinda was, though.”
“Nope,” Percy said, shaking his head. “Not even a little bit.”
Now that she wasn’t on the verge of tears, Annabeth felt like she could see the problem the same way she saw a battlefield. She had her perspective, backed by the facts, and she was ready to argue them.
“Objectively. Objectively I had the chance to stop Lu- him, before he became…you know…”
Percy, as ever, saw the problem very differently.
“That wouldn’t have been right, and you know it,” he replied.
It was the same thing he had said to her, as she lay in the Plaza Hotel with a poisoned wound. Too much of this evening was reminding her of that conversation, whispered and reverent and half-delirious as the sun rose over a sleeping New York City.
“Is it right to let one person live so that others can die?”
Percy flinched at the question. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it? What would you have done, Percy?”
“What do you mean, what would I have done?” Percy asked, catching on to the tone of Annabeth’s question.
Annabeth finally met his eyes. “You…you hated Luke. More than most. So tell me honestly. Would you have let him live, knowing what it would cost?”
Percy’s expression was hard to read. His eyes were dark and pensive, like the sea before a storm. He turned and stared hard at Annabeth’s window, as if seeking a way out of the conversation. Annabeth didn’t blame him. She wished they weren’t talking about this, either. Percy’s jaw clenched as he swallowed hard.
“I’ve thought about it,” Percy said in a low voice. “After you told me about him visiting you, I thought about it. About what I would have done.”
He turned to look at her, his expression grim but determined, the way he looked in battle. “I wouldn’t have killed him. I may have hated him, but not like that.”
“Like what?” Annabeth asked, curious despite herself.
“I hated him for hurting people I cared about, like you. But the hate you’d have to feel for someone to kill them when they’re unarmed and vulnerable…that’s an evil kind of hate. I don’t think I have that, and neither do you.”
Annabeth felt her eyes sting with fresh tears. Her palms tingled. She felt like a dam inside of her was breaking, and her blood was finally flowing freely again.
When he saw her teary eyes, Percy’s expression became worried. “I’m sorry, I-”
“No,” Annabeth cut him off gently, placing a hand on his. “No, don’t be sorry. I think I needed to hear that.”
Percy looked relieved, and then sad all over again. He stayed very still, letting Annabeth keep her hand on top of his. “You’ve been keeping that in for a while, huh?”
Annabeth sighed deeply and tucked some stray stands of hair back behind her ear. “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Annabeth’s stomach dropped. Percy was looking at her again with that same searching expression, like a lighthouse scanning the waves in a storm. Annabeth knew she was going to have to yield.
“Because it’s about Luke,” Annabeth admitted quietly, her voice catching on the dead boy’s name. She’d said his name more times this evening than she’d said it since he died. It sounded so benign, just one syllable echoing in her dorm room. Such a simple name. The name of a cousin or of the boy in your class, not the name of a traitor who nearly ended the world.
When Percy just nodded vaguely and frowned, Annabeth kept going. “It’s just, we always used to fight when he came up. And we haven’t fought in so long. I wanted to keep it that way. I was scared if I tried to talk about him, we’d end up arguing.”
Percy looked genuinely surprised. “What? You were scared?”
“Well, yeah. I don’t wanna mess this up,” Annabeth said.
“You were scared of messing this up? You?”
Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Duh!”
Percy had the nerve to laugh. “Annabeth, I’m scared of messing this up.”
“You just snuck out and broke into my dorm to bring me a cupcake because I was sad, and you’re scared of messing this up?”
“Ah, so it was a good idea.”
“Good idea is a stretch, Seaweed Brain.”
“Well, to be totally honest,” Percy said sheepishly. “I kinda panicked.”
“Panicked how?”
Percy winced and turned his attention to the edge of her blanket. “After we talked earlier, I kinda got it into my head that you were sad because I’d done something wrong. So I guess I thought…honestly, I don’t even know what I thought. I just freaked out, and suddenly I was hanging from your window.”
Annabeth was stunned. It wasn’t often that she was speechless, but she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You…what?”
Percy’s cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, I know, I sound pretty insane.”
“No…well, kinda, but in a sweet way. I didn’t realise…” Annabeth shook her head. “I didn’t realise you were so scared, too. You’ve been so great.”
“Annabeth, I’m dating you, of course I’m scared.”
Annabeth frowned. “Am I that bad?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Percy said hastily, holding up a palm. “I just mean that you’re, like…I mean…I just like you a lot, okay? And I care about you, and I really want this to work.”
“I like you a lot, too,” Annabeth said, starting to smile. “And I get it. I want this to work, too. I don’t think I’ve ever…woah.”
“What?”
Annabeth shook her head. “No, it’s silly.”
“C’mon, I bet it’s not.”
“It’s cheesy.”
“Ok, well now you have to tell me.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“More embarrassing than me sneaking into your dorm because I was worried you were mad at me?”
Annabeth considered this. “Fine. But I need you to look away. I can’t say it if you’re looking at me.”
Percy raised a dubious eyebrow, but he did as he was told. Annabeth’s bed squeaked loudly as Percy turned around, making Annabeth wince. She hoped her house mistress was a deep sleeper.
Annabeth took a deep breath and shut her eyes, even though Percy’s back was to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I want this to work out, okay?”
After a beat of silence, Percy asked, “Can I turn back around now?”
“Sure.”
As he turned to face her, Percy’s face broke into a huge lopsided grin. “That was cute.”
Annabeth felt her face heat up. “Shut up, Jackson. I could still knife you if I wanted.”
“Oh, I know. You nearly stabbed me earlier.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not used to people trying to come in through my window. A girl’s gotta be careful. Any freak could-”
As she rambled, Percy inched closer to her, until he finally leaned in and kissed her mid-sentence. Annabeth would normally never tolerate being cut off, but she made an exception this time.
She would also never admit this (or maybe she would, seeing how this evening was going), but she loved when Percy kissed her unprompted. In these early days of their relationship, he tended to follow her lead, letting her initiate, or asking permission first. And she appreciated his chivalry. He was respectful in a way she knew most boys their age were not. But nothing set her heart on fire like him leaning in to kiss her, with no preamble or introductions. It made her feel wanted in a way that made every cell of her body light up. Maybe after kissing him in Mount St Helens, and kissing him on his birthday, she was done with taking the lead.
When they broke apart, Percy was smiling, soft and sweet. It was a different smile to his usual crooked grin, the kind that used to irritate her (and that she now found endearing). This smile was gentle and unassuming, something she used to see now and then in flashes before they got together, and one she saw much more often now. If she was a more self-indulgent girl, she might have believed that he only smiled like that for her.
Percy pulled back, but stayed sitting close to her, their knees touching. His expression turned thoughtful. Annabeth could tell he was gearing up to saying something. As he searched for the words, he look Annabeth’s hand. This time, she let him. He lightly traced circles with his thumb.
After a long pause, Percy finally said, “I think I owe you an apology.”
“What?” Annabeth asked, her stomach suddenly in knots.
Percy gave her a sad smile. He stopped drawing circles, but kept their fingers entwined. “For not talking about Luke since he died.”
A strange feeling washed over Annabeth. Her chest constricted, and her fingers began to tingle, as if her heart had stopped pumping blood. A new well of tears opened in her eyes, and she swallowed hard to keep them from spilling over. It was an intense, almost painful sensation, but somehow relieving, too, like the moment an ice pack touches a tender bruise.
“No one wants to talk about him,” Annabeth whispered, a single tear tracing down her cheek. “His siblings don’t. No one at Camp does. They all hate him. Even Thalia…” Annabeth trailed off, wiping her cheek with her free hand. “I tried talking to Thalia, but it’s like she’s in denial that he ever existed. It’s making me crazy.”
Percy nodded solemnly. He gripped her hand tighter, reaching out with his free hand to gently wipe away new tears. “You’re grieving him. That’s natural,” Percy said.
“Yeah, but I feel like I’m not allowed to grieve him, but also like I’m the only one who can. It feels like…it feels like I’m holding up the sky all over again.”
Guilt was etched into Percy’s face, from the crease in his brow to the tension in his jaw. It made Annabeth feel even sadder. She had expected that talking about Luke would make Percy angry, not remorseful. Annabeth could handle Percy’s anger. She’d been facing it since she was 12, either as his opponent or his confidant. The sea could not be restrained, but Percy could, usually by a touch of his shoulder, or a kick in the shin under the table, or a warning look. But this Percy, looking sick with shame, unable to meet her eyes…she was unprepared. It was enough to still her tears. She wanted to say something to make him feel better, but Percy started talking first:
“You were right about him, Annabeth.”
Annabeth nearly laughed. “What are you talking about?”
Percy shifted uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair. “I know we always used to fight about Luke. I guess I was so mad at him that the bad stuff was all I could see. And I saw how much power he had over you, and it made me so angry. And also kinda jealous, because I felt like you guys had this…this bond that I couldn’t, I don’t know, compete with maybe? It’s hard to explain, but there were probably a lot of reasons why I used to get mad when you brought him up, especially when you would defend him, even when he had hurt you.”
The words were spilling out of Percy quickly, like he was afraid if he stopped, he would lose the courage. Annabeth listened intently, nodding in encouragement. Percy paused for a breath, clearly psyching himself up for something. And then he looked at her, his eyes wide and sincere. “But you were right to keep believing in him. You were right all along.”
Annabeth felt like she had been slapped in the face. “Percy, he gave his body to Kronos. He nearly killed you. He nearly destroyed Olympus.”
“Yeah, I know. But he didn’t. And he did the right thing in the end, all because of you.”
“Because of me?”
“You got through to him. In the end, you were the only one who could. If it had just been me there…there’s no way I would have stopped him. I saw the monster, but you saw the human being underneath. I think you’re the only person who can grieve him because you were the only person to ever really know and love him. And that love saved him in the end. It saved all of us.”
Annabeth blinked back tears. She was so tired of crying tonight. “I just don’t know what to do with it now. The love.”
Percy squeezed her fingers. “My mom told me something years ago, when I asked her what it was like to keep going after her parents died. She said that you have to learn to view grief as a friend, because it helps you remember the loved ones you’ve lost. She said that grief is kind of like a drawer where you keep your memories and the love you feel for someone.”
Annabeth smiled despite herself. “Only your mom could be so optimistic about grief.”
Percy grinned, misty-eyed. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool like that.”
Annabeth felt like she was on solid ground for the first time in days. The weight on her chest was lighter, and although her eyes stung from crying, they did not feel so perilously full. “Thank you for letting me talk about this. And for everything you said. It means a lot.”
Percy smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Annabeth’s heart melted. “Anytime. And I hope you know that you can always talk to me about this stuff. I’m not gonna get mad.”
“Thanks. Same goes for you, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said, returning the smile before adding, “And for the record. You’re really not screwing this up. Like, at all.”
Now it was Percy’s turn to look relieved. “Good. Because I have no clue what the Hades I’m doing.”
“Me neither,” Annabeth admitted, laughing.
“If you don’t know what you’re doing, then I don’t have a hope.”
Annabeth’s heart surged as she looked at the boy in front of her. The low light of her bedroom softened his features, but she could see the way his jawline was growing stronger, and the small red bumps beneath his chin where he was learning how to shave (not that there was much yet for the razor to find). And there was something in how he carried himself, too. He sat up straighter these days, his resting expression often faraway and brooding, eyes like dark sea glass. Annabeth knew that these were all normal signs of his growing older, of turning from a boy into a young man. She marvelled at the new sharpness of his face and depth of his character, no longer the wild-eyed child who had stumbled into her life and changed it forever. But there was still a lingering boyishness underneath his new stature, one that Annabeth hoped he would never grow out of. She saw it most when he smiled, big and bright, and teased her over anything and everything.
After spending so many years certain that he would meet an untimely death, Annabeth knew she would be grateful for every sign of his aging. She had promised herself once, in a particularly desperate episode during the long months between his 15th and 16th birthdays, that if she ever got to watch him grow old, she would count every single grey hair on his head. Now, in the safe four walls of her dorm, she knew she would do everything she could to keep that promise. But still, she prayed he never lost that innocent look of wonder, or the childish sense of humour. She wanted the man he became to be the same boy she had first fallen for.
“What?” Percy asked suddenly, completely breaking off Annabeth’s train of thought.
“Huh?”
“You’re looking at me funny.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Can a girl not zone out sometimes?” Annabeth asked in exasperation, throwing up her arms.
Percy smiled. “You do that a lot. Go inside yourself. I can pretty much see your braincells working.”
Annabeth shrugged. “One of us has to have working braincells.”
“True,” Percy assented with a knowing smile. “Just wish I knew what was going on in that pretty head sometimes, that’s all.”
Annabeth blushed at the compliment. She still wasn’t used to hearing Percy talk about her like that. But something about the comment struck her. This whole night had been about Percy wanting to know what was going on inside her brain. And so far, despite her worst fears, it had been for the better. Annabeth had always wanted to be truly seen, either by her father or her mother or Luke or anyone. Now, she had someone who knew her better than she sometimes knew herself, trying to understand her even better. She had never felt so known. So why stop now?
“I was just thinking,” Annabeth started, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. “That I am really grateful that you’re alive. And I’m gonna make sure you stay that way, Seaweed Brain.”
Now it was Percy’s turn to blush. He gave her a slow smile, his eyes gleaming like the moon reflected on still water. “Right back at you, Wise Girl.”
Annabeth wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing and nothing else in the world mattered. She put her arms around Percy’s neck, who was cupping her jaw with his right hand, his fingers in her hair. Although they were only two months into their relationship, Annabeth felt that they were getting good at this kissing thing. Sure, sometimes they’d bump noses, or both turn their heads at the same angle, or accidentally poke each other in the eye (don’t ask), but they were finding their rhythm. Annabeth always knew they would. It wasn’t too unlike fighting side-by-side in that they had to know each other deeply, anticipate each other’s moves, work as one unit. They were still in their experimental phase. Sometimes, one of them would put their hand somewhere new, and it was like their first kiss all over again, fervent and curious. Annabeth looked forward to many more experiments.
They broke apart slowly, lingering in one another’s orbit. Annabeth smirked, her arms still wrapped around Percy’s neck as she said, “I think someone mentioned something about there being a cupcake?”