"I can't do this! Leave me alone!" Annabeth screamed, hurling a pencil at Percy in the kitchen.
"How is it my fault? I didn't do a single thing!"
"Exactly!" She huffed angrily, before storming into their two-month-old bedroom. "I'm leaving!"
"Fine!"
It wasn't long after she departed through their freshly painted blue door did Percy begin to panic. He had, seriously, truly, pissed her off this time. Quickly, he whipped out his phone and sent a text.
Wise Girl? I miss you.
No reply. He sat there, waiting. To anyone else, he would have looked like a maniac, clutching a phone so tightly his knuckles were painfully white.
He waited there, still like a statue. He waited for an hour and half. Percy glanced up to look at the clock, the one Annabeth had been so proud of finding two months ago, when they moved in together. The sleek modern numbers blinked back at him: 18 00.
He sat there, slumped, his heart heavy as a rock. Percy began to pace up and down the wooden floor before flopping on to their messy bed. It wasn't long before he picked up the battered phone and called his other best friend. You know, the one he wasn't dating. The one he wasn't hopelessly, completely, desperately in love with.
"Hey man, what's up?" Grover's friendly voice trickled into Percy's ears.
"Hey...uh... Are you available tonight?" Percy creaked hoarsely.
"Are you alright?" Grover's tone immediately became worried. "You sound like Tartarus just came and killed Mrs O'Leary."
"Can you come with me to the bar downtown? Tonight, at 8 pm?" Percy chose to ignore his question.
"Yeah, sure. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Annabeth just walked out on me. I don't know if she's going to come back." His voice cracked a little.
"Man, I'm sure she'll come back. You guys are like the couple glued together at the hip!" Grover exclaimed.
"We WERE the couple, Grover. Were." With that, Percy disconnected the call. He threw it across the bed, before quickly clambering over it and retrieving it. He called her cell phone. Voicemail. He called it again.
"I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE A MESSAGE!" He roared, hiding under the blanket.
Percy stayed there for two hours before heading out, disheveled and rumpled.
When he arrived at the bar, heads turned. Even in a worn old t-shirt, Percy still succeeded in looking like a god. He staggered over to a small corner where Grover was waiting with a concerned face.
"Hey, Perce. Sorry to break it to you like this, but you look like absolute shit."
Percy stared blankly at his best friend's face.
"I definitely feel like it," he muttered. A curvy girl clad in barely anything came up to Percy and tried to swing her hips seductively. Percy didn't bother looking up before saying, "Sorry, not interested." Grover, ever the best friend, ordered a shot of tequila for his heartbroken best friend.
Percy reached for the tiny glass and downed it in one shot. It tasted bitter and reeked of something awful, but it was better than the pain and the worry sitting on his chest right now like an old fat woman. He drank another one, making the edges of his vision blurred, and this time it wasn't due to tears.
Salt, shot, lime. Percy got the routine down to a pat after his fifth shot, before he proceeded to become completely, absolutely drunk. "Annabeth…I'm here!" He slurred, the words almost indiscernable.
"AAAAAAANNAAAABETH! Come home…I miss you," he cried. By this time, it was ten pm and the party scene was getting crazier while Percy got more wasted. Grover started to panic, and he called Annabeth with his own phone. She picked up on the first ring.
"Grover? Is Percy okay?" Her voice had risen higher and higher with every syllable, and each word was fraught with worry. "Where are you? Where's Percy? Why is it so loud, wherever you are?"
Grover swallowed. He hated to break it to Annabeth that his best friend, her boyfriend, had just gotten completely drunk at a crazy bar. "Annabeth...," he began slowly.
Percy attempted to stand up a little, his cheeks bright red and his normally piercing green eyes hazy. "Wise Girl? Is…that…?" He didn't get to complete his sentence before he crashed onto the floor. Annabeth went berserk.
"You're at that bar closest to our house, right? I'm coming now! Make sure Percy's alright!" She cried, before cutting the call and fleeing out of Rachel's house, where she had temporarily taken refuge. Grover stared at his screen before holding his head in his hands and staring at Percy half-asleep, totally drunk on the wooden floor.
"It's a bit late to make sure he's alright, isn't it?" Grover sunk to the floor next to his best friend. "Hey, Perce, you alright?"
Percy stared at him, his pupils dilated and his eyes unfocused. His eyes swirled confusedly and he burbled something about grey.
Just then, Annabeth burst into the bar with jeans and her orange camp t-shirt on. She scanned the area quickly before homing in on Percy and Grover. Annabeth's jaw dropped. Even from several meters away, Annabeth could tell that Percy was utterly gone. She made her way through the drinking crowd with "excuse me"s and "sorry, coming through"s before she arrived at Percy's booth.
Looking at Percy's face and position, Annabeth sighs. "Oh, Percy…." Annabeth grabs hold of his arm and sits him down at the booth. Percy looks at her before promptly falling asleep on the wooden table. Annabeth looked at Grover before saying, "You're helping me carry him home, right?" Her tone made it clear that it wasn't a question. Grover swallowed for the second time that night.
"Err…you see…Juniper said she wanted me home tonight because, you know, of the baby," Grover mumbled as he braced himself for the blonde's dagger to come out of the sheath on her thigh.
Annabeth glared at him before pushing him roughly to the side. "Fine, I'll just carry Percy home. By myself." And with that, she pulled Percy's two arms around her neck and onto her shoulders, carrying him in a really awkward game of piggybacking. Lugging him off the seat, she stumbled out the door and onto the yellow-lit street.
Halfway through, Annabeth was seriously considering calling the firefighters. Percy wasn't fat at all, but his muscles built up from years of camp and monster-fighting meant that he was really heavy. So she gave up and rolled him gently to the floor. She took out the spare jacket she had bought for him on the way there in case this happened. Carefully spreading the wide jacket on the dirty floor, she rolled Percy onto the jacket so his back was on the cheap fabric. Annabeth cleverly tied the sleeves around Percy's arms so that his butt and his torso was protected from the rough concrete floor. Taking his arms, Annabeth proceeded to drag Percy all the way home on the New York sidewalks. When she reached the lobby of their apartment building, she stood Percy up against the red brick wall (with great effort) and threw the disgustingly dirty jacket away.
When they finally, finally, finally reached home, Annabeth judo-threw him onto the couch. She'd long since given up on being gentle and careful with him. He wasn't glass, she reasoned. He wouldn't break.
She plopped her butt down in the kitchen as she made a mug of piping hot tea for Percy. When she got back, Percy was drooling and falling of their new couch, fast asleep. Even the throw hadn't woken him up.
Annabeth sat down next to Percy on a throw pillow and adjusted him so that he was upright. She shook him to no avail.
Annabeth steeled herself for her next move.
Slap! The resounding sound woke herself up, and Percy looked around blearily before attempting to focus on her own grey ones.
"Hey…Wise Girl," he slurred. Annabeth sighed and gave him a little sip of the tea. It seemed to help with his drunkenness. "Hey…you know I love you right?"
Annabeth smiled despite their predicament. "I love you, too." And Annabeth whispered those words over and over again as she tucked Percy in for the night.
Goodnight, Seaweed Brain. And she clicked the lamp switch.
