Archive of Our Own

new york all the time. paris, occasionally

It’s over 10pm on a Thursday in a New York subway station, and the gust of hot wind coming from up the stairs makes Percy regret putting on a button up shirt. He would usually wear t-shirts for work in the end of the school year, with summer coming around and the heatwaves making each year more unbearable. Today, however, was parent-teacher meetings day, so he had to at least look presentable. 

He’s tempted to check his phone for the temperature, considering it’s late night and he still feels like he’s inside a microwave. He doesn’t, though. It’s over 10pm and he’s standing at the platform in a New York subway station, and he’s also not a moron.

So he just looks around, searching for something else to entertain him. 

A rat running through the rails. Normal.

A homeless man building a castle out of used aluminum cans. Basic.

A curly haired woman running down the stairs, her eyes fiercely looking around even when she speeds up at the sound of the train- Wait.

Annabeth Chase stops in the middle of the platform just as the train arrives, and he knows, in that second, she’s seen him too. The wind makes her curls fly around her face, her gray eyes matching the blurred train behind her, and it gives her such a cinematic appearance that Percy considers he might be having a vision.

It’s over 10pm on a Thursday in a New York subway station, and she should be in Paris. 

“Annabeth?” 

“I-,” she’s clearly shocked, which at least makes him feel a bit better. There’s a shadow of a smile on her lips when she says his name. “Percy?” 

The doors from the train are opened, but neither of them moves. Percy is headed the other way, but considering how she rushed when she heard it arriving, he figures this is the one for her.

He wants to say something, but his mouth is dry and his voice is rough. Also, he has no idea what to say. How’ve you been doesn’t seem exactly appropriate for someone you haven’t seen in seven years.

Annabeth opens her mouth to say something, but then she looks over her shoulder, anxiously. Any second now, the doors might close.

“Hey, don’t miss that train for me,” he tries to sound nonchalant, but there’s a twisted part of him that wants to say otherwise, to tell her there’ll be other trains, that she should definitely let this one go and wait with him.

She bites her lip, but then nods and steps back just as the alarm rings, signaling the doors will close. She steps inside in the last second, and he’s now pretty sure that yes, he’s probably having visions, when she gestures from inside the train, mouthing for him to call her. 

The train leaves and she’s still with her hand over her ear, simulating a phone. 

He’s definitely having visions.

***

Percy huffs as he locks his cellphone screen, putting the device on the nightstand and turning to the other side for what feels like the millionth time that night. 

It’s 2am and he’s scrolled all the way down Annabeth’s Instagram profile at least a hundred times since she entered that train. 

He looked at each dump, each tagged post, each comment, for any sign of an explanation to why she’d be in NYC. Nothing. Just aesthetic pictures of old buildings with the Eiffel Tower showing up at the background, colorful selfies from her last summer in Italy, dumb pictures with her friend Piper and even an old selfie with him from ten years ago. 

He knows that picture. He remembers the exact moment they’d taken it, during the dinner she’d organized for their fifth anniversary. She was wearing a white dress and he remembered thinking it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. To this day, this was one of the best restaurants he’d ever been to, and he remembers perfectly the cannoli they’d shared for dessert and the way his lips tingled when he kissed her, because it was also his 21st birthday and they’d ordered a bottle of wine. 

He just didn’t realize she’d kept that memory on her profile. 

Percy turns around to grab his phone again. 

This time, he enters the DM’s and types without thinking too much.

His thumb hovers over the send button for a second. Then, he presses it, before he can talk himself out of it.

***

The next day, the dark circles under his eyes are so evident that even the kids comment on it. 

In his defense, middle school students are not exactly known for being discreet.

Still, he has to admit he’s overly bothered by the noise inside the classroom, and it’s really not feeling like the best day to teach them about symbiosis, because the letters on the textbook are floating even for him. The worst thing he can do for his dyslexia is losing sleep, and it really doesn't inspire a lot of respect to be a teacher who has trouble reading. He’s just about to give up and say it's movie day. He can’t however, so he figures quizzes for helping the kids with the subject is the best way to go. Somehow, he manages to go through the morning.

At lunch, Hazel corners him at the teacher’s lounge, though.

“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” she teases as she opens the fridge to get her lunch.

He wishes he could counter it, but he’s basically laying on the couch with his forearm over his eyes, and it’s pretty obvious he’s had way too little hours of sleep.

So he just groans in response.

“Were the parents that bad?” She asks, sitting down at the table near him. 

“Nope,” he mutters, standing up. He knows Hazel’s not going to let him be, so he’d better grab his own lunch and sit with her before the other teachers arrive. “The parents were great, to be honest.” 

“Whoah, no need to brag,” she rolls her eyes, and Percy just throws her a sympathetic smile before finally joining her at the table, unwrapping the sad, soggy sandwich he managed to make for himself this morning.

A group of teachers enters the lounge the second he takes the first bite, so she lowers her voice. 

“Hot date then?” She asks, and since he just snorts, her next guess has her eyes go wide. “Oh, Percy, please don’t tell me you went home with a parent after the-“ 

“Oh my God, no!” His tone is a little over the top and some heads turn at that. He just makes an apologetic face, waiting for everyone to go back to their conversations. He makes sure to whisper the next part. “I ran into Annabeth at the subway.” 

Hazel furrows her eyebrows before the information clicks. “Annabeth, wh- Oh, wait the Annabeth?!” 

Percy nods.

He knows it’s useless to try and hide the fact he’d sent Annabeth a DM, and even though Hazel doesn’t say anything, her eyes tell him everything he needs to know.

He and Hazel were hired for this school the same month. 

The two of them had clicked since day one, especially because they’d faced some resistance from the older teachers. When they’d met, Percy was —and there’s no other word for it— at rock bottom.

He and Annabeth had just broken up after almost eight years together, and in all honesty he had no idea what he should do with his life next. Hazel and her then boyfriend (now husband) Frank had basically adopted him, taking him out on the weekends and introducing him to their friends.

At that time, Percy finally realized how codependent him and Annabeth actually were.

When they were younger, they would always hang out with Grover and Thalia, but as they got their own lives and moved in together, the two of them actually didn’t make a lot of new friends. Throughout college, they would spend almost all the time together. Parties weren’t really their scene, so they would go to class and go back home together almost everyday, and then spend the weekends as a couple or with their old friends.

They got along well with everyone and had some group outings, but most people ended up more as acquaintances than real friends. 

Percy already had their whole life planned out, their apartment, their jobs, their kids. 

And then, Annabeth decided she wanted to move to Paris for her Master’s Degree. 

The same week, he got the offer to teach full time at this school.

He was ready to turn it down and go with her.

She said she had to do it alone. So she went.

“Percy, what exactly do you think will come from that?” Hazel asks him, and he tries not to pay too much attention to the judgmental way her brows come together.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I’m just wondering how she’s been.” 

Hazel takes a long sip of water, staring at him fiercely as she does. “Just promise you won’t sleep with her, please,” she says after swallowing.

He just takes another bite of his sandwich. 

***

Annabeth never answers his DM.

He’s glad he has such a demanding job, otherwise he would have definitely spent the whole day checking his screen for a notification from her. 

Okay, who is he kidding. He definitely kept discreetly looking at the phone on his desk. 

It’s almost 5pm, and he’s literally just step inside his apartment, ready to accept he imagined everything and she’ll never text back, when his phone rings.

Obviously, he still has her number saved. He just didn’t want her to know that.

He lets it ring for a few seconds, trying not to sound too desperate.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Percy? It’s Annabeth… Uh, Chase?”

“I know,” he chuckles, in spite of everything.

She clears her throat. “I wasn’t sure if you still had my number…”

“Yeah,” he interrupts her, but leaves it at that. He doesn’t want to be too obvious.

“So… Uh, funny running into you last night?” 

He furrows his eyebrows. It doesn’t sound like her, panicking. That’s what he hopes it’s happening, nonetheless, because if she thinks this is an appropriate comment, it’s definitely worse.

He decides to ignore it.

“I didn’t realize you were back in New York,” he says, instead.

There’s a brief silence before she answers. “Yeah. I'm here for… a couple weeks.” 

“Oh,” he says, because there’s really not much more to say.

“Listen,” she sounds like herself again. “I'm meeting up with Grover and Thalia tonight, for drinks. Don’t you want to come? I would really like to see you and.. catch up.” 

More silence. He’s trying to understand what exactly is going on, but he’s listening to her voice for the first time in seven years, and it definitely sounds the same, but at the same time it feels like a completely different person. Also, he doesn’t think it’s very appropriate or good for him to go out with his ex-girlfriend whom it’d taken him literal years to get over. Is it?

“Okay,” he hears himself say. “Text me the address.” 

***

He’s standing in front of the bar, listening to the soft pop music through the doors, and the only thing he can think of is that Hazel is going to murder him if she finds out about this.

And she will, because he’s definitely not strong enough not to tell her on Monday when she asks how his weekend was.

He takes a deep breath, rubs his hands on his jeans one last time, and steps inside. 

The ambience is cool and groovy, with red lights all over the place and graffiti on the walls. 

It doesn’t take him long to spot her. She’s sitting alone at a booth, with her back turned to him, so he can take advantage of the fact that she’s not seeing him for a while.

He thought he would be the last to arrive, but apparently he’d underestimated Thalia’s ability to be late and also the distance between Grover’s house and the city.

A few years ago, he and his wife, Juniper, had decided to move to the countryside, to be closer to the nature and live in a bigger house, where they’d like to raise their future children. Of course, they were still close, and Percy tried to drive down whenever he could, but between his routine and Grover's work trips, there wasn’t too much time available. It wasn’t the same anymore, but Percy had learned to deal with it.

A girl accidentally brushes her elbow on his when she walks past him at the bar, and it brings Percy back to the present situation. He tries not to think too much about how Annabeth’s hair is quite literally glowing in the dim light of the bar, about how there’s a golden energy coming from her, and tries to walk up to her as firmly as he can.

“Hi,” he awkwardly stops by the booth, unsure if he should just sit across her or greet her or-

“Oh, hey!” His brain stops working at the sight of her smile. Her face lights up with it, the curls cascading over her shoulders, the skin slightly tanned from all her eurosummer lifestyle. She’s wearing a sharp eyeliner that highlights her gray eyes, and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen her with make up this sharp. Then again, it’s been seven years. 

She gets up to talk to him, and he’s not really sure what to do with that.

She’s wearing a jeans mini skirt and a tank top, and he tries not to look too much at her thighs, or at the thin line of skin showing between her skirt and the hem of her shirt, or at the way the low cut of her top makes her cleavage so absurdly attractive.

Especially because there is no reason for him to be looking at her body like that. And there’s also no reason for him to take an even deeper breath to feel the lemon scent of her hair (apparently some things never change) when they finally share an awkward half hug. Because he’s definitely, one hundred percent, over her.

But then they separate and he notices how glossy and highlighted her lips are, and he’s not sure how exactly she gets that effect, but he knows it takes everything on him to stop looking at them. And so he figures, maybe it has nothing to do with being over her, because what can he do if she’s objectively attractive and beautiful and-

“Why don’t you take a seat?” there’s a smirk on her lips and he feels like the dumbest man on earth when he realizes she’s already back on her seat and he’s just standing there like a fool. 

He hopes the color of his cheeks doesn't match the burning he’s feeling on them as he clumsily sits across her at the table. There’s an untouched bottle of beer waiting there, and he figures it can’t be for her, considering the glass of red wine she's holding close to her lips (really, he has to stop looking at them like that) and he can’t help but think that this feels a little too European, because the Annabeth he knows would never drink wine at a dive bar, as hipster as it was. But, once again… It’s been seven years.

“I, uh, took the liberty of ordering that for you,” she gestures towards the beer, and he raises his eyebrows. “Then I figured it might be dumb, because who knows if that’s still your drink of choice, but…” 

She drifts out, and he holds the beer, initiating a small toast between his bottle and her glass, and he can feel the smile on his own lips as he takes a sip. 

“Thanks,” he says, after. “I definitely still drink beer.” 

There’s a short silence between them, and he can’t help  noticing the redness on her cheeks, which makes him feel a little better about himself.

“Good,” she says.

“So, hum…” he plays with the label on the bottle with his thumb. “It's been a while.” 

“Yeah,” the way she swallows thickly makes it obvious that she’s nervous. “How have you been?” 

It sounds like a dumb question. How can you go through everything they shared, how can you know the most intimate details of a person, their body, their mind, their soul… For it to be wrapped up into such a mundane question now?

What else can you say, though? Now, they’ve spent apart almost the same amount of time they had spent together. They definitely have new memories, new marks on their bodies, new jokes and favorite places and people and foods. 

How do you start a conversation after all of that?

“Good,” he clears his throat. He decides to leave out the part where he’d spent almost two years mourning for her and then let his trauma ruin the only serious relationship he was brave enough to start after that. “I.. Took that job. Still teaching there.” 

“Oh, really?” Her smile seams so genuine that he wouldn't be annoyed at anything she said after that. “Do you like it?” 

“Yeah,” he sips on his beer. “It’s a good school. Lots of infrastructure problems, but the people are cool. I’ve made some good friends and… It’s nice to see that I’m making a difference, you know?” 

She nods, and there’s a sparkle on her eyes that he can’t quite recognize. Pride? 

“I'm sure you’re an amazing teacher, Percy. I always knew you’d be.” 

The compliment hits his heart like a punch, and he feels the rhythm of his pulse quicken at that. It’s ridiculous, but after all this time, it still feels amazing being complimented, recognized by her. 

“What about you?” He asks, eager to switch subjects. “Is Paris treating you well?” 

He’s sure he sees her smile quiver at that, but it’s so quick that he’s certain it’s an illusion.

“Sure,” she nods. “I mean… It’s beautiful, Percy. Really a magical city, and the architecture is just… unreal.” 

She keeps going, but in spite of everything that comes out of her mouth being good things, the sparkle doesn’t quite reaches her eyes. Or is he imagining it?

Either way, they stay on that topic until Thalia and Grover arrive, not much time later. Soon enough he’s on his third beer, and they’re laughing and it almost feels like old times.

Now he knows Annabeth is here on vacation, and that she’s just finished her PhD (he pretends he’s surprised, but the truth is he’d seen it on Instagram, and most importantly he’s always known she’d get there). Now he knows she’s staying in an Airbnb in Manhattan because Grover’s house is too far and Thalia is almost never home considering her job demands her to travel all the time. 

Now their eyes have met multiple times when he’s trying to look away from her lips without being noticed.

Now, he’s glad he’s failed.

***

She calls him again on Sunday.

He wants to say he’s surprised, but the truth is they’d spent the whole Saturday texting.

At first, she sent a meme she’d referred to Friday night and he wasn’t familiar with. He answered with a simple “ha ha” and spent hours trying to convince himself not to engage any further. 

Percy, remember how hard it was to get over her, Hazel’s voice echoes in his head.

Percy, how exactly will this be good to you?, Frank’s follows.

Percy, what do you expect this to turn into? What happens when she goes back to Paris again and you’re left here trying to get ready for your 100th Hinge date?

He ignores all of them.

The only thing that mattered was how peaceful he felt when he heard her laughter the night before and realized it was exactly the same sound he remembered.

So, he texted her back. 

And he also answers the phone.

“Hey,” he says, and he hopes his hoarse voice doesn’t make it too obvious he’s spent the whole weekend in pajamas. 

She skips the formalities. “You won’t believe what I just found out.” 

He can’t hold back a laugh. “What is it?” 

“Do you remember that place where we used to get cinnamon rolls near college? I would eat them like everyday?” 

He stays silent for a while. Of course he remembers. They were her favorite. He would buy them for her whenever she had a hard day.

“Yeah,” he says, softly. “I remember.”

“Well, they’re closed! I’m standing in front of the store right now and there’s nothing but the announcement of a new building. I can’t believe this.” 

Percy lets out a soft, short laugh. “I know.” 

“You knew? And you didn’t tell me sooner? Oh, wow,” she’s being ironic, but it still makes him want to apologize for no reason.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” 

She sighs, dramatically. “You know, seven years without eating a reasonable cinnamon roll, and now this.” 

He snorts, but he actually feels for her. He also knows he’s fucked the second he says the next sentence. “Good news is… I know where you can find some.”

“Are they as good as these were?” 

“Believe it or not, I’d say your evaluation as a broke college student wasn't fail-proof. I think they’re better.” 

“I highly doubt it,” he can almost see her nose turning slightly up when she says this, the way it always did when she offered a challenge.

“I’ll prove it then. Meet me at the subway and I’ll take you there.” 

Yeah. He’s definitely fucked.

***

When she bites the cinnamon roll, she still has that defiance expression on her. However, he can see it in her eyes that she knows it. It’s definitely better than the one she remembered.

“Hm, I don’t know… I suppose it’s okay.” 

Percy just raises his eyebrows, trying not to make it too obvious that he’s watching the way her tongue touches her lips to lick the sugar and frosting.

“Tell you what, if you admit that this one is the best you’ve ever had, I’ll buy you another for you to take home.” 

She smiles, but her mouth is full with pastry, so it comes out as a funny face with her cheeks stuffed. 

He thinks it’s adorable.

She swallows before answering. “I'll have you know I’m a successful, independent woman and I can buy my own pastries if I’d like.” 

He snorts. “Playing the feminism card, huh? Wow, you used to be better at arguing.” 

She rolls her eyes as she takes a sip of her sparkling water. He can’t help but notice she’s let the lemon and ice go, and she’s taking it pure now. Once again, it seems very European, as silly as something like sparkling water may be. Once again, he thinks to himself, it’s been seven years.

A tight silence settles between them, and he watches as she calmly eats, noticing as people enter and leave the store behind her.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, suddenly, playing with the straws that sit on the table. 

“Yeah,” she nods. 

“Why did you invite me to the bar?” 

She just stares at him silently for a while, and he can see the gray in her eyes shifting, the way it always did when she was thinking about what to say, how to explain her own mind. 

“I don’t know,” she pauses for a sip of water. “I just kept thinking about how crazy it was that we met on the subway like that. I just feel like these things can’t possibly be just a coincidence, you know?” 

“What do you mean?"

“Like… I just think sometimes the universe sends us signs.” 

“So you're becoming whimsical now, is that so?” 

She rolls her eyes again. He smirks, and there’s a brief silence.

“Also,” she bites the last piece of her cinnamon roll and pauses to chew and swallow it. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you after that.” 

He’s not sure if she’s talking about the subway or the bar. Either way, he feels his cheeks heat up at the comment.

She doesn’t admit this is the best cinnamon roll she’s ever had, but he buys the extra pastry nonetheless. 

He’s ready to give her an awkward goodbye hug in front of the store, considering maybe this was just a crazy experiment and he’ll never see her again.

But when they go out, she stands on the sidewalk, looking up at the High Line Park in silence for a whole ten seconds, and he figures maybe it’s finally happened. He’s gone crazy.

Then, she turns back at him.

“Would you walk with me?” 

They stare at each other for a moment, and he just knows the same memories are coming back to both of them, the afternoons they used to spend there, walking and sitting on the benches observing the city and eating ice cream cookie sandwiches. They were only teenagers at the time, and he’s sure it felt much more edgy and cool back then, but he hasn’t been to the High Line in ages, and he most definitely won’t mind going down this memory lane. 

He has an impulse to grab her hand and lead her up the stairs, but he holds back and they walk up side by side. He has no idea what her reaction would be, and he’s not really sure it’s the healthiest option for him to engage in physical touching right now.

She probably wasn’t expecting to meet anyone when she left home, because she’s not wearing any make up, and she has simple jeans shorts and a t-shirt on. Still, the vision of her walking beside him makes his heart flip. This version of her is so much closer to the one in his memories. Sure, there’s a few expression marks, and her face has more rigid lines now, and he’s also noticed she’s got her ears pierced (in five different places). And, don’t get him wrong, last night she was stunning. But today, as wrong as it sounds… It feels like she’s his again.

“Is there a place like this in Paris?” He asks as they start walking on the platform. He doesn’t mean it to sound like a competition, even though he does feel like New York is the best city in the world, but he realizes it does, a bit.

“Not really,” she answers, biting her smile. “You can’t build anything higher than the Eiffel Tower, and the buildings are very old, so it’s not really common to see things like skyscrapers or suspended spaces, you know? There are a lot of parks and green areas, though, which is amazing.” 

“If none of them is an abandoned train rail, I would say it lacks charm.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure, Percy, Paris lacks charm.” 

“Without you in it, I’d say it definitely does.” 

She stops suddenly, and he realizes what he’s just said. It just slips off his tongue, without even going through his brain in the process. If it had, he would definitely have stopped it. 

He wonders if he should take it back, but now it would just make it worse, so he owns up to it, clearing his throat and resuming their pace. Startled, she follows him.

“You really like living there, huh?” He asks, feigning nonchalance. 

She gulps. “I mean, yeah. It’s been a great experience. The lifestyle is so different and it taught me so much…” 

He senses there’s a but coming, though she doesn’t say anything else. 

She stops suddenly in front of a famous graffiti that hangs on the other side of the railway. It’s colorful and abstract, and he’s personally never felt very drawn to it, though he can recognize the beauty of the painting. He also realizes it probably wasn’t there the last time she’d been to the High Line. So he just stands by her side, waiting for her to take it in. 

“I'm not sure anymore,” she finally says, her voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

“What?” 

“About Paris,” she’s still facing the painting, and he observes her profile, noticing the way her chin tightens and her throat moves when she swallows. “I like it there. And I love to travel, and the freedom I have there and the friends I made. But lately… I’ve been missing it here.” 

“Oh?” 

“There's a kind of chaotic energy in New York that I really couldn’t find anywhere else,” she turns to face him. “People I couldn’t find anywhere else.” 

She holds her gaze as she says this, and there’s a gravity pulling their bodies together that’s so hard to resist. It makes him dizzy, realizing she still has so much power over him even after all this time. How come they can be completely different people and still get along so well? How is it possible he’s still so attracted to her, and still so amazed by her mere existence? 

He starts to walk again, mostly to avoid doing something he’ll regret later. They walk the platform from one end to the other, passing through families, tourists and happy couples, as well as runners and skaters, eventually. It’s really a beautiful view when the sun starts to go down. 

They finally sit on a bench near the access they used to get up, and he knows the goodbye is approaching, but he just wants this day to last forever. He wants to ask the sun to stop for a second, to freeze that warm, orange light that makes everything poetic, every moment beautiful and meaningful. 

“Is this the first time you came back? Since you left?” He finally asks one of the questions he’s been wanting to since he saw her at the subway. 

“Yes,” she leans back on her own arm, and it makes their shoulders brush for a second. It’s electric, and it’s only for a second, but it sends shocks through his body, and he feels like he’s fifteen again. “I've come for Christmas in San Francisco, but it’s my first time back in New York.”

There’s a moment of silence as he decides whether or not to ask the next question.

“Why did you decide to come back now?” 

She looks at him, and he can tell she's analyzing him with those deep gray eyes. He remembers the exact feeling, and the exact way her eyes narrow when she’s doing it, the colors in them looking like a kaleidoscope.

“Well, I finally finished my studies,” she tilts her head. “So the next step is change, no matter what. I have a professor who offered me a spot in his office back in Paris… But I also applied for a job here in New York.” 

Percy arches his eyebrows, but he holds his tongue not to say anything. Now that she’s sharing, he doesn’t want to do anything that might make her hold back. So she goes on. 

“I had an in-person interview on Thursday, but I also figured I would spend some time in the city, considering I had some gap weeks either way and, like I said… I’ve been missing it here.”  

They just look at each other, and Percy’s heart is racing and he desperately wants to ask more about that, if she’s already decided what she’ll do if she gets the job, if she’s thinking about moving back either way.

He doesn’t, though. He just nods.

“I really hope it works out for you,” he finally says, and then catches her smiling from the corner of his eye before turning to look forward.

A minute passes as he observes a young couple walking in front of them. They don’t look a day over seventeen, and he’s clumsy and she’s nervously playing with her fingers, and he thinks that the beauty of that age is that they could be on a first or twentieth date and this vibe would still fit.

“Is it absurd that I want to eat that cinnamon roll now instead of taking it home?” She asks suddenly, and he turns back to stare at her, smirking. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

He watches her unwrap it in silence, and he can’t help but find it adorable the way she looks up in awe after taking the first bite.

However, he can’t take his eyes out of the small portion of frosting that has lodged itself on that sweet spot on the corner of her mouth. She’s smiling, and she clearly hasn’t noticed it because she doesn’t make any movement whatsoever to clean it, either with her tongue or a napkin.

So he has no choice.

Carefully, Percy wipes the white cream from her face with his thumb. She immediately stops chewing, her face a mix of surprise and curiosity. 

He’s split between licking the remaining frosting off his finger or apologizing for overstepping. 

He opts for a middle ground, holding his gaze while reaching out for a napkin. She swallows slowly, but her eyes are still on his.

“It’s definitely the best I’ve ever had,” she says.

Her voice is hoarse, and her cheeks are tinted red.

She has to be talking about the cinnamon roll, though.

***

He avoids Hazel the whole day on Monday. 

The memory of the Sunday afternoon is still fresh in his mind, the way his whole body felt warm and tingly and how she kissed him on the cheek before entering the building of her Airbnb, because he obviously walked her “home". He wants to revel on that feeling, and not face Hazel’s reasonable yet extremely annoying questions and burst his happy bubble.

He’s almost certain he succeeded, but just a few minutes before he leaves, when he’s cleaning up his classroom, she stops by his door. 

She just leans over the door frame, not even muttering a “hello”, and he pretends not to see her for a moment, but it doesn't make her go away. So he looks at her, placing the box of markers he’d been holding on the table.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” She says, her eyes narrow and her arms crossed, and Percy appreciates the fact she’s trying to look aggressive and intimidating, but by all means Hazel is a short and sweet woman, and it’s a bit comical.

He’s still scared, though.

“I did not!” He’s not very proud of the way his voice sounds, so he just gets back to placing the box on the cabinet and closing all the drawers, avoiding to look directly at her.

“But you want to,” she accuses him.

It’s not exactly a lie, so he just keeps doing his job.

One closed door later, though, he’s out of cabinets to organize, and he has to look Hazel in the eyes.

“We just talked, okay?” He shares. “And had some drinks with friends. And maybe a nice afternoon at the High Line.”  

Hazel sighs.

“Oh, Percy…” 

“It’s not a big deal!” 

Hazel opens her mouth to answer, but apparently thinks twice, because she takes a deep breath before talking again, gesturing for him to follow her out the school. They usually walk together to the subway, and she’s clearly not letting him get away with this one easily.

“Percy, you can obviously do whatever you want, and I one hundred percent believe that she’s beautiful and charming and a great person,” she opens the school’s front door and a warm breeze reaches them. “I just don’t want to see you hurting again. How long is she staying here?” 

“A couple weeks,” he looks down at the stairs, avoiding her gaze. 

He sees her exasperated face from the corner of his eye.

“At least try to figure some things out before doing anything, okay? Do you even know if she’s single?” 

He freezes at that. That definitely wasn’t a topic of conversation.

Hazel just huffs.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what,” she stops on the sidewalk, facing him. “If you don’t kiss her until the end of the school year, I’ll upload all your grades on the system for you after the finals.” 

Percy furrows his eyebrows. “The end of the school year is this Friday.” 

“See how little faith I have in you right now?”

***

He loses the bet.

It all starts on Wednesday. He’s bored to death while watching the kids take their final test when she sends him a selfie. 

He definitely should not be looking at his phone, but he figures just a peek won’t hurt.

He couldn’t be more wrong. The second he looks at it, he feels his body temperature go up, and he accidentally drops the pencil he’s been playing with, making all the students look at him immediately.

Percy mouths a sorry as he picks it up, sitting up straight as he locks his phone screen again. He can’t possibly be looking at that picture in front of the children.

It’s now engraved in his brain, though. She’s lying on a chaise lounge in a red bikini holding a glass of wine, and she’s taken it from above, which makes it possible to see her whole body until her thighs. 

thank god or airbnb hosts who rent apartments with rooftop pools, she writes as a subtitle.

He gulps, trying to erase the image from his mind, but it stays there until the last student delivers his paper on his desk.

It’s still 2pm, and he finally has a few minutes to answer her before he wraps everything up to leave.

Percy

some of us still have to work, you know? 

Annabeth

that’s not exactly my fault

Percy

you definitely didn’t make it easier

Annabeth

and why’s that?

Percy swallows thickly, spying through the door of his classroom to see if there’s someone passing by. He feels like he’s doing something wrong, but he’s allowed to text, right?

Percy

you could at least invite me

Annabeth

sorry, I can’t bring guests over

A moment passes and he stares at his phone, trying to consider what to say next. She’s quicker, though.

Annabeth

does that mean you’re off the clock already?

Percy

yep

Annabeth

what kind of school is that?

Percy

a normal school in the last week of classes

The three dots show up and go away what feel like a hundred times.

Annabeth

do you think we have time to catch the ferry to Ellis Island?

When he gets there, she’s already waiting for him with their tickets in hands.

He’s not proud of how much he’s panting, or of the stickiness in his body, and he really hopes he’s not smelling too bad, but the important thing is they manage to board the ferry on time.

They can’t find seats on the rooftop, amongst all the tourists and foam liberty statue crowns, so he leans against the railing, feeling the wind against his face as the ferry starts to move away from the shore.

It feels sudden when she speaks.

“I’d say you crossed Manhattan in record time today.”

It’s not much past 3pm and the temperature is unbearable and the sun is almost perpendicular and it’s definitely one of the worst moments of the day if you’re thinking about lighting. But when he looks at her, none of that matters.

It all happened so quickly that he didn’t have a chance to properly take her in yet. Now, he notices how she put her hair up in a ponytail, the sunglasses on her head giving it a cool and chic touch. He figures she’d touched up her skin with make up this time, but it’s such a natural look that he probably wouldn’t have realized it if he didn’t know her features so well. She’s also wearing colorful crochet earrings, which gives her a summer vibe, and… a white summer dress. The straps are so thin and tie behind her neck like a bikini —which immediately throws his mind back to the picture she sent sooner— and there’s a clasp in the middle that leaves a very sweet spot of her skin exposed. It shapes her waist perfectly, and the skirt floats around her thighs with the wind, and he figures he shouldn’t stare at that too much because the last thing he wants is to make her uncomfortable.

So he looks back at the water.

“Maybe the subway got more efficient since you moved.” 

She laughs. “Highly doubt it.” 

He can’t keep his eye off of her much longer, so when she answers, he’s already watching her bring her sunglasses down. Part of him envies her for that. Sunglasses aren’t exactly on his basic day-to-day middle school teacher’s kit. The other part mourns the loss of the clear view to her eyes.

“So, why the sudden need to visit one of New York’s most touristy spots?” He asks.

It takes her a few moments to answer.

“Sometimes I would meet people in Paris, from all over the world, and when they realized I was American, their reaction wasn’t exactly the best. Then, I told them I used to live in New York and they would get interested all of a sudden,” she stops briefly and notices Percy’s furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah, we don’t have the best reputation out there. But that’s besides the point.” 

“Is it, though?” 

“That's a whole different conversation, Percy.” 

“Fine.” 

“The point is, there were two types of reactions regarding New York specifically. Either people got interested and wanted to know what it was like living here, and then they would ask about a lot of spots that, as you can imagine, are not exactly part of our daily life.”

“What are you talking about? I myself like to go for a run at Times Square like everyday at 7pm.” 

She laughs, and it physically tingles his stomach. He can’t help but smile with her.

“Yeah, right,” she says.

“What’s the other reaction?” He encourages her to continue.

“Well, the other was usually from people who’d already come here and visited all those places. And of course, some of them were dumb and uninformed. But others had very good insights about the city, and a lot of times they’d taken this ride to the Liberty Island and the ones I respected the most… always talked about the immigration museum in Ellis Island. So, after the like twentieth time it happened… It started to feel absurd that I’d never been here.” 

Percy keeps quiet for a while, watching the waves form below them as the boat moves. One of his favorite things about Manhattan was always the fact that it’s an island. He really loved living near the water and going to places where he could see or hear the ocean. However, he took little to no advantage of the ferry and boat rides.

“I came here once,” he says, finally. “With my father.” 

“Oh?” She turns her head towards him, and he realizes she’s startled because she even puts the sunglasses back on top of her head.

“I was little, it was… before he left us. He took me out here one Sunday, and we visited the museum and everything. I don’t remember much, though, I have more memories about the sea and the trees, and the feeling of being with him.” 

Annabeth doesn’t say anything, but then she puts her hand on his, on top of the railing, and he almost instinctively moves it because it feels like there's an electric current coming from her to his skin.

Gladly, he doesn’t though. And they just stay like that for a moment, until suddenly, there’s a loud bump. The ferry has arrived to Liberty Island. 

She brings her hand to her hair, pretending she has to settle something.

“Don’t you want to go down and check the statues feet and everything?” He says, as the tourists start getting down.

She looks at her watch.

“I’d rather stay and have time to explore the museum, if that’s okay for you,” she looks up at him, and he smirks, because of course she does. 

“Of course.” 

Almost all the seats are empty now, so he leads her to the back and they finally sit down. 

It takes just a few minutes before the ferry is on its way to Ellis Island, and the boat is quieter now. It makes everything more intimidating, and suddenly he doesn’t know what to say next, so they just sit in silence for a while.

“I thought you’d be mad,” she finally says, leaning her head on her shoulder.

He furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” 

“I… I didn’t get in touch to tell you I’d be coming here because… You know, it’s been seven years, and honestly I thought maybe you hated me or something.” 

“Yeah, that definitely would've been a weird call or text,” he lets out a crooked smile, and she just rolls her eyes. That’s it, he thinks. That’s exactly how things have always been between them. “Seriously, though… I don’t think I could ever hate you.” 

She snorts. “Oh, c’mon, I’m pretty sure you did, for a while back then.” 

He ponders. “I… was hurt, and sad. But I didn’t hate you, I just didn’t understand your reasons at first.” 

“My reasons to move?” 

“The reasons why you had to do it alone.” 

“Oh,” she looks down. “And now you do?” 

“Yeah,” he holds his gaze. “I do.” 

It doesn’t take them too long to arrive at Ellis Island, and there’s no line to enter the museum.

Even so, they only have about forty minutes to explore the if they’ll make it in time for the last ferry back. Which is a bummer because Annabeth doesn’t have time to stand and read every document, every explanation and every letter she wants.

Still, she does stop in front of the most interesting things, and then points out ‘wow, Percy, did you see this’ and looks around in awe when she finds something new. And its so wholesome and engaging and beautiful.

Percy wouldn't know much about the museum, though. 

They are basically escorted out by security, and when they have to literally run to catch the ferry, he just knows that it’s the perfect time to pull her by the hand. She doesn’t resist.

The ride back is crowded and messy, and some curls have slipped off her ponytail and he can really feel the sticky sweat in his body. However, she’s smiling and the light is indeed golden now, and he really, really wants to kiss her. But he won’t, not in the middle of a bunch of sweaty tourists chatting about whether or not there’s anything under the Statue of Liberty’s skirt.

Should he?

Hazel’s question keeps pounding on his head, but he has no idea of how to slip into the subject of relationships easily. It would definitely kill the vibe, and that’s the last thing he wants. Of course, this whole reconnecting thing might be the worst idea he’s had in a while. But it’s also the best he’s felt in a long time, so he’s not willing to ruin it just yet. Also, if she wasn’t single, she wouldn't be sending out bikini selfies like that, right?

Soon enough, they’re back in Manhattan, and he can’t find an excuse not to go to the subway right away, and so there’s just them and the crowded train and the awful smell, and he’s aware it’s the most unromantic setting ever. Still, he thinks she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Still, he gets down at her station because he obviously has to be a gentleman and walk her home again. And that’s probably the first time someone’s ever said that about New York, but when they finally step out on the street, it’s quiet enough for them to talk again.

“Did you like the museum?” He asks, and it’s ridiculously small talk because he knows her too well not to know the answer to that question.

“Yeah, so much,” there’s a light breeze ruffling her hair as she talks. “It just makes me think about freedom, you know? It’s so amazing, but also so scary and crazy to just leave your whole life behind like that and move to another country.” 

“I’m sorry,” he arches an eyebrow. “Isn't that exactly what you did?” 

“What?” 

“Leave your whole life behind and move to another country?” 

“Yeah, but it’s different. I had everything planned, and structure and money, and-“ 

“I still think it’s crazy,” he interrupts.

She pauses for a second, looking directly into his eyes. “Good crazy or bad crazy?” 

“Fearless crazy.” 

They’ve reached the Airbnb building, but they just stay there, looking at each other, and he feels the momentum, he knows it’s coming.

“It’s different, though,” she says, her voice lower.

“Why?” He takes one step closer.

“I don’t think I left my whole life behind” 

She says that while holding her gaze, her gray eyes filling in the gaps of anything and everything she didn’t say in words. 

So he has to do it.

He closes the gap between them, one hand on her waist, and carefully caresses her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes are closed, and he brushes his lips on hers for just a second, waiting for her to do the check mate. 

Finally, she does.

Her lips are soft and warm, and when their tongues meet, there’s a bittersweet taste, because he knows her, and at the same time, there are new twirls, new gestures, new discoveries on how they’ll move together now. 

She deepens the kiss and he has the urge to pull her closer, to feel her chest against his and the bottom of her back under his hand and maybe-

“Percy,” she suddenly leans back, panting. They’re still holding, and he can still count the freckles on her nose, but he already misses three seconds earlier, when his mouth was on hers. 

She looks at him, smiling for a second, and then steps back. 

“I told you,” she whispers, biting her lower lip. “I can’t have guests over.” 

He laughs, startled, and shakes his head while stepping back.

His lips still tingle all the way back home.

***

On Friday, he invites her over for wine and pizza. 

He realizes there’s still a lot they need to talk about, but she’s been so obviously flirting with him, and it just feels so right being with her that his only question now is: why not?

Even if things burn down in one week and she goes back to Paris, isn’t it better for him to spend that time with her than some random date?

She arrives early, around 6pm, and when he greets her, his stomach twirls and he tries to focus on not sweating too much and ruining his nicely washed t-shirt.

Once again, she looks beautiful. She’s wearing jeans and slip ons, but the lacy, thin strap top she chose gives him the impression she’s hoping for more than just drinks and dinner.

So is him.

“So… This is the Percy Jackson cave,” she says, walking over to the kitchen counter, where he’s pouring her some wine.

He snickers. “If you have to call it that.”

“I don’t have to, but I like to tease you.” 

He hands her the glass, then gestures for them to sit on the couch. His apartment is small, and open concept, so there’s not much to show her. 

They settle on the deep blue couch and he keeps wondering what is the appropriate distance in this situation. Should he sit closer? Should he put his arm around her or touch her thigh?

Percy feels like he’s never been with a woman his whole life, because now every movement seems to make him think, and he can’t even gather some memories of how he acted the previous times. 

There’s also the cherry on the top of her being his ex-girlfriend, but that’s not important, is it now?

“I've been meaning to say,” she bites her lower lip. “Thank you for going with me to the museum on Wednesday. I know it was impromptu and rushed, but I… Really enjoyed it.” 

“I really liked it, too. It’s nice to do something different like that once in a while.” 

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you, or something. I… You know you don’t have to be my New York guide or anything like that, right?” 

Percy furrows his eyebrows. “Guide?”

“Ugh, that came out wrong,” she rubs her hand on her jeans, and puts the wine on the coffee table. “I don’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t know, I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” 

He exhales, understanding, and mimics her with his own glass. 

“Annabeth,” he grabs her hands on his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. “I like hanging out with you. You’re not an inconvenience.” 

She finally seems to relax a little, letting her body settle on the couch, and so he grabs their glasses again and gives hers back. She takes a sip, letting it all settle for a moment.

“When I first moved to Paris, I hated being alone so much,” she hesitates, and he tries to hide his surprise. “I was really excited, but I realized I actually didn’t know how to.” 

He nods, moving closer to her on the couch, and she continues.

“Then I met my friend Piper, and it was really really great, because she would encourage me to go out and meet new people, and try new things…”  

“You seem like you’re really good friends with her,” he realizes he’s admitting to stalking her on Instagram, but by now he doesn’t care anymore. 

“Yeah, we really hit it off. She used to date Thalia’s half-brother, actually.” 

Percy furrows his eyebrows, and she laughs.

“When they were teenagers! Piper’s dad is an actor so she lived in Paris with him when he was working on a movie… Then she decided to go back. Now she does home office, though, and she’s nomad, so we mostly see each other when we travel.” 

Percy takes a long sip of his wine.

“You went to Italy together last summer, right?” 

Annabeth blushes. “Uh, no… That was with my ex-girlfriend, Reyna. We broke up right after that trip, actually.” 

“Oh.” 

Percy’s heart skips a beat. He freezes for a second, unsure of what to say. He is surprised, but he doesn’t want to react badly and make her think he’s judging her or anything like that. So he clears his throat.

“I didn’t know you were… bi?”

He adds a question mark because he knows she didn’t exactly say what her sexuality was, but considering everything these past days, he can only assume (and hope) that’s the case. 

She lets out a short laugh. “Neither did I.” 

She takes a long sip from her wine, her eyes are unfocused. 

“Actually, that’s not truth,” she says, after she swallows. “I think it’s one of the reasons I left. I wasn’t really aware of it, but maybe subconsciously I felt the need to explore this?” 

They stay quiet for a while, Percy observing the way she plays with the rings on her fingers. It’s charming and sexy and interesting, just like everything she does, and he thinks that, in a way, he should’ve always known. 

“Honestly, I should’ve realized it,” he spills.

“What?” 

“You're much too interesting to be straight.” 

Finally, she laughs, and the tension dissipates, and once again Percy remembers how much he loves hearing that sound.

“Okay, so now you tell me,” she leans her head on her hand, her arm over the couch pillow. “What have you been up to these past seven years?” 

He snorts. “You know, nothing that exciting. Same old basic new yorker tragic single life.” 

“Oh, c’mon. You want me to believe you spent seven years available on Tinder?” 

He makes a face. “I have never, ever in my entire life set a profile for myself on that app.” 

“Liar!” 

“I swear to God.” 

“Bumble?

He just nods, denying it.

“Hinge!” 

He laughs, finishing his wine, and she knows she’s won.

“A-ha!” 

He throws her a smile. “I did have one serious relationship, but I don’t think I was ready for that yet when it happened. It didn’t end well.” 

“Hm, it’s giving emotionally unavailable 30-year-old sabotages all of his relationships.” 

“I’ve just had the bar set pretty high,” he intensifies his gaze, and finally gets the intended effect. She gulps, and bites her lower lip before she finishes her wine as well. 

Just as he’s about to say something else, the pizza arrives.

***

Percy had set the table on the kitchen counter, but he decides to just set the pizza box on the coffee table, suggesting they eat on the couch with napkins and small plates. He likes then intimacy of it, how cozy and domestic it feels.

Also, two wine glasses in, and into the third, he admits he also likes watching Annabeth lick her fingers every time she finishes a slice.

“So that’s your move now?” She asks, using a napkin to clean her hands and letting her plate down. 

“What do you mean?” He’s still chewing his last crust. 

“You bring women here and order this ridiculously good pizza and tasteful wine and-“ 

He laughs, setting his plate down too. “You really think I’m a player, huh?” 

She shrugs. “I don’t know, it seems like a good strategy.” 

“How would you know?” 

She hesitates, and the air between them is charged when their eyes meet.

“Because it’s working on me.”

He holds her gaze for a second, them laughs shortly, disappointed that he’s not close enough to kiss her and make it feel smooth right now. 

“In that case, that’s definitely my move,” he says, his voice as lower as possible. 

She smiles, but then suddenly she’s on her feet, bringing the plates and pizza box to the kitchen. 

He meets her there with the wine glasses. 

“Would you like more wine?” He asks, starting to look for another bottle. 

She’s washing her hands on the kitchen sink. “I'm okay, thanks.” 

“Maybe some desert, then? I made fudge.” 

She dries her hands on his towel, turning to look at him. 

“I have a better idea, babe,” she says.

Her voice is so provocative, and her posture is so confident, and he thinks he could replay that moment in his head forever. But especially, his brain can now only repeat the way she called him babe. And just like that, every single rational thought vanishes from his brain.

“You do?” He gulps.

She steps closer. “I mean, you didn't give me the house tour when I arrived.” 

He swallows thickly, trying to focus on the conversation rather than on the way she rolls her lips together or how the dim light of his apartment highlights her curves and the skin on her cleavage. 

“Sure,” he walks around the counter to grab her hand. “Now you know the kitchen…” 

He pulls her back to the living room. 

“And you’re definitely familiar with the living room,” he says, and she just nods in agreement. He leads her through the tiny hallway and skips the bathroom door.

Then, he pulls her to his room, leaving her standing in the dark for a few seconds as he goes to turn the night lamp. 

“And this is…” he drifts off, glad that he’s cleaned it up today, otherwise this would be a very upsetting moment.

She just stands there, looking at him as he goes around the bed and carefully, slowly, approaches her. 

“Nice place,” she whispers, and he’s so close now he can see the trembling on her throat when she swallows. 

Just one step closer, and now his hands are on her hips and she gasps when he pulls her closer and their bodies clash. 

“Best part is… I can have guests over.” 

She gives him a short laugh, but it’s cut out but his lips on hers.

***

Percy wakes up slowly, a little confused and somewhat tired. 

It takes him a moment to figure out why his arm is stuck under something, but then he sees the nest of curly blonde hair on top of it and it all comes back. 

The way she flustered with the hem of his shirt and pushed him to the bed. The way she straddled him and allowed him to untie her top and how he just stood there admiring her for a second. How he insisted to regain control, because she seemed too interested in having it, but he perfectly remembered how much she liked letting go. And eventually she did.

“Hey,” he leaves a kiss on her shoulder when he realizes she’s starting to wake up. “Morning.” 

She turns around slowly, sleepily, and shows him a soft smile while stretching, her arms over her head.

“Hi,,” her eyes are fuzzy and beautiful and he could stay there looking at her forever.

“Sleep well?” 

She nods. “The Jackson cave is surprisingly comfortable.” 

He snorts. “You have got to stop this.” 

“What?” 

Pretending like you don’t know I’ve spent all those years hung up on you.

He just shakes his head, gives her a kiss on the forehead and throws the blankets away.

He does see her staring at his body as he gets up, and so, just to tease her, he decides not to put on his shirt, just throwing on some shorts over his boxers.

“I'm gonna make us some coffee,” he announces before leaving the room.

He brushes his teeth, makes himself a little more presentable, and then starts to boil the water. He’s heating up some bread and grabbing some eggs in the fridge when she joins him, and he loves to see that she’s took the liberty to put on his t-shirt over her underwear, and nothing more. She’s checking her phone, and for a second it feels like the most natural thing in the world, this morning, this universe.

“Do you have plans for the weekend?” She asks, nonchalantly, as she sits on the counter.

“Not really, I-,” he pauses when he closes the fridge, because suddenly she has a shocked expression and is staring at her phone, without moving. “What happened?”

She meets his eyes, but he can’t read her expression.

“I… I got the job.” 

“Oh,” he stares at her for a second, unsure of what to do. “Uh, the… New York job?” 

She nods.

“Annabeth, I… Wow” he’s shocked and also there’s a warm, strong sense of hope emerging from inside him, and he’s not sure how to respond, if he should show it.

“Yeah, I… They sent me an e-mail last evening, but I just saw it now,” she laughs in amusement, one breath only and it’s gone. “Oh my God.”  

Finally, he smiles. “That’s amazing. You’re amazing, I-“ 

He takes one step closer, reaching out to touch her thigh when he stops himself. Is it amazing?

It’s just a job offer, Percy, it doesn’t mean she’s going to take it.

“Congratulations,” he says, turning around, to set the eggs on the counter. 

He wants to hug her, kiss her, tell her he knew it. He wants to ask her if she’s going to take it, if it means she’s staying. And if she does stay, what does that mean for them?

Suddenly, it all feels too inappropriate. Suddenly, he remembers he’s not her boyfriend. If he seems too happy, will she think he’s pressuring her in some way? 

He turns back around to look at her, leaning on the sink, and notices her expression has changed. Her brows are furrowed, her lips pursed in confusion. It takes every fiber of his being not to run and hold her.

“I’m… happy for you,” he says, trying not to show too much emotion.

“Thanks,” she gulps. 

“I.. uh,” he moves uncomfortably. “I assume you need some time to think about it.” 

“Yeah,” she says, then finally seems to get off her trance and jumps off of the counter. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

She disappears into the bedroom, and when she comes back, fully dressed, he desperately wants to do something, say something to make it all feel better. But he’s just too afraid to overstep.

“I… Thanks for… everything,” she says, finally, and helps herself out.

The air feels dense and weird and full of regrets again.

***

The kids don’t have classes, but the teachers need to wrap some things up before leaving, so there’s still a few days of work.

Percy spends the first days of the week locked inside his classroom, avoiding contact with everyone and leaving early to escape talking to Hazel.

On Wednesday, though, she shoots the door open, impatient.

“Okay, you’re gonna tell me what’s going on right now, because in less than a week I’m leaving for my so dreamed trip to Alaska with my husband and I will not let it be ruined by me worrying about you all the time.” 

Percy huffs, turning his chair to face her. “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

Hazel just gives him a pointed look, then walks up to a desk on the front row and leans against the table, staring at him with her arms crossed. “Spill, Jackson.” 

He exhales, defeated. “Fine. You were right.” 

Hazel sighs. “Percy… I didn’t want to be. I wish she wasn’t leaving.” 

“I don’t know if she’s leaving.”

“You- What?” Hazel frowns, confused. “Then why are you throwing your own funeral inside your classroom?” 

“I’m not throwing my own funeral,” he scoffs. “I'm just quiet.” 

She arches an eyebrow, signaling she just knows him too well for that. He breaks under the pressure.

“She… uh, spent the night on Friday.” 

“Of course she did,” Hazel rolls her eyes. “Was it bad or anything?” 

“No, it was great.” 

“Did she have a boyfriend?” 

“No,” he hesitates. “She got a job here.”

“Okay, and that’s bad because…” 

“Last week she told me she had applied for a job here and was here for the interview, right? So… we were together on Saturday morning when she got the news but… we haven’t talked since.” 

Hazel stays silent for a while, her posture softening. “Tell me exactly what happened.” 

“I don’t know, I panicked! She never said ‘I’m taking the job’, she just told me she got it. I don’t want her to feel pressured or anything.” 

“Wait… What exactly did you say to her?” 

He shrugs. “I said ‘congratulations’. And then I said she probably had to think about it, and she agreed and left.” 

Hazel stares at him, incredulous. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been hung up on this woman for seven years.” 

“I have not-,” he interrupts, but she shushes him with her hand.

“And then you randomly run into her in the subway. She’s eager to reconnect from day one. You take her on a bunch of romantic outings and she tells you, very clearly, that she’s applied for a job here and she’s considering coming back.” 

“Yeah?” It seems cruel that Hazel is making him relive everything, but he knows he can’t stop her train of thought now.

“So she gets the job, and you send her away?” 

“I didn’t send her away, I just gave her some space!”

 “God, men…”  Hazel huffs, annoyed. “Percy… When does she fly back?” 

“Tonight.” 

“Okay, good, you still have time,” she starts to gather his things, and he just observes it, confused.

“Time for…” 

Hazel stands by the door with his briefcase in hands, gesturing for him to get up. “Go tell the woman you love that you love her, Percy!” 

“I don’t think it’s the right word just yet-“ 

“Just GO, you fool!!” 

He stands up, rushing, grabs his things… And runs.

***

When Percy arrives in front of Annabeth’s Airbnb building, he realizes he has no idea what apartment she’s in. So he calls her.

It takes a few rings before she answers, but, eventually, she does.

“Hi,” she sounds surprised.

“Will you please let me in?” 

“What?” 

“I don’t know which apartment you’re at, so please don’t leave me here standing like a fool.” 

Silence.

Then, the door unlocks.

“12B.” 

He drums his fingers on his thigh all the way up the elevator, panicking because he realizes he has no idea what to say to her. There’s not enough time, and he’s starting to sweat and when he arrives on her floor, the door is open and he lets himself in.

The apartment is small and cozy, and he notices she’s packing because her suitcase is open and there are some clothes thrown around. She’s folding a t-shirt on the other side of the bed, and he closes the door before approaching her.

“Sorry to stop by unannounced like that,” he says, taking the shirt off her hands and putting it on the bed, so he can have her whole attention. 

“Seemed urgent,” she puts her hands on her waist, hesitant. 

 “I… I forgot to tell you something, on Saturday,” he gulps. “When you left to Paris… I was broken. I had no idea what to do and where to go and I didn’t understand why you left.” 

“Percy…” she looks at the floor, nervously, but he puts his hand on her shoulder inviting her to look at him again. 

“It took me some time, but I finally did. We didn’t know who we were without each other, and I’m really glad we got to figure that out.” 

She seems surprised, but in a good way. “I am too.” 

“But now, I… I know it’s been just a few days, but Annabeth…” he takes a deep breath to calm down. “I’ve felt happier this past week than I’ve felt in a really long time. I know who I am without you, but the truth is… I like me better when I’m with you.” 

He can see her chest go up and down as her breath quickens. “Percy… what exactly are you saying?” 

“I'm saying… Take that job. Stay.” he’s not sure where all this confidence comes from, and she just stands there, startled. “I’ll take you all around the city and we’ll act like tourists everyday if I have to. We’ll walk the Brooklyn Bridge and eat noodles in Chinatown and we’ll take pictures with every singles character in Times Square if that’s what it takes.” 

She laughs, but it’s quick, and she still doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I didn’t tell you before because I got scared. But I’m asking you now. Stay. If you’re really not complete there anymore, if you miss New York and if you think this job will make you happy… Stay.” 

Finally, she moves, and he realizes she’s biting her smile.

“Okay, maybe I forgot to tell you something too.” She takes one step closer, and he does the same.

“What is it?” His heart skips a beat.

She’s so close now, her nose pointing up the way it always does when she’s offering a challenge. He loves it.

“I already took the job here.” 

She closes the gap between them, and when their lips meet again, he finally feels like he’s coming back home.