Because her day absolutely couldn't get any worse, it started raining.

Her hair was drowned, her new suede boots ruined, and worst of all? She'd dropped her phone in a particularly large puddle and literal sparks had flown. At work her design had been completely rejected, even though she'd been working for two whole months on the damn thing. But that's how she ended up in a secluded little coffee shop, feeling sorry for herself and searching the menu for something chocolate-y to get her out of this awful mood.

The shop was utterly charming- unfinished ceilings and local art covering brick walls. Small lights hung above wobbly-looking round tables with squishy armchairs and a tiny stage for poetry readings or guitar sessions completed the look. Annabeth breathed in, and the scent of brewing coffee took the weight off her shoulders, and she began walking towards the counter, ready to take refuge (however small) from the downpour outside.

"Hi, welcome to Ambrosia and Nectar."

Annabeth looked up, seeing the cashier grinning at her and she nearly dropped her jaw. Wavy dark hair falling in vivid green eyes, a frame with definite muscle- shown off by an orange t-shirt that stretched quite nicely across the shoulders, and an adorable smile that made her stomach sqirm. In a good way. Very, very good way.

She raised a hand to try to do something with her dripping hair, which turned into an extremely awkward little pet across her hairline. Oh gods, she thought.

"Oh! Um, hi," she squeaked, then chastised herself for letting herself get so flustered. Cute boy at the coffee shop- it's how all the stories go, right? But she already knew this was not her lucky day, so why push it, she thought. But then she looked into the man's eyes, and felt a blush spread across her cheeks. Damn.

He raised his eyebrows. "Uh… would you like anything?" he asked, a look of question spread across his face. Annabeth could almost hear the "isn't the crazy lady going to get something?" and she scrambled to order, feeling her cheeks redden even deeper.

"I'd… um, I'd like a tall mocha latte? With whip?" she managed to get out without collapsing in a heap of jelly and embarrassment on the dark wood floors. He stared a little sympathetically at her before saying, "That'll be $2.84. Just give me a minute." He smiled after that, sending butterflies straight to her stomach.

Gods, could she keep it together? Annabeth remembered when she was in college and she could keep her face straight and indifferent at parties when they all were groped at least a little when dancing- and now, the mere sight of an attractive guy was enough to get herself flustered. Annabeth was sure he got this kind of attention all the time, with the look of his ass. (Okay, so she'd snuck a peek when he'd turned around to turn on the coffee grinder. His jeans fit very nicely.)

She took a deep breath as she dug for money in her purse, hoping the blush was fading, and made a resolution with herself: I will not freak out. Especially when our fingers might potentially brush when he hands me my coffee. Not even then. I am a strong, 25-year-old architect who lives on my own who doesn't freak out when overcome with stupid hormones. I am fabulous.

And when he finally turned around to present her coffee to her, she didn't blush even in the slightest. She walked up, slid the money on the counter, and even though his long fingers slid against hers when she took the cup, her cheeks didn't flush when she thought of other things those fingers could be doing.

"Thanks," she said, flickering her eyes once more up to the cashier's, noting that as they were closer she saw small hints of watery blue and even gray touches in the green. But she couldn't hold the gaze forever, and when she finally turned away, she almost thought she could hear a sigh from him. "You're welcome," he said after her, smiling after her. She grinned back and walked out to get a cab.

As she took a sip before dashing out from the protective overhang of the shop, she noticed them- a black scrawl across the cup. "Percy" and then a ten-digit number. His name. His number.

Oh my Gods, she thought. He gave me his number. She looked quickly back to the inside of the shop, where this "Percy" was undoubtedly still standing it. Damn going back to her apartment- she couldn't just text him.

She pushed the door back open, running towards the counter, where Percy was standing, a small sort-of-hopeful smile on adorable lips, and decided that there would be a better use for that mouth. Annabeth leaned over the counter, pushing herself a little bit higher on her toes for good measure, and kissed him.

It was awkward, to say the least- she was a little bit out of breath and she had slammed their lips together and she was holding herself up by her hands on the counter (wide counter, it had seemed) but it was perfect. When her wrists deemed the kiss too long, she finally broke it, pulling back and lowering her feet back on the ground.

Percy was grinning- too hard to speak, perhaps, because a few seconds of silence was filled by their smiles. But finally, he said, "And I don't even know your name."

"Annabeth. Annabeth Chase."