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Percy

Maybe it's just the crazy heat outside, but I sleep in late today. (Not that I've ever been an early riser; that's Annabeth's job.)

After staring at the wall for a while, I get myself out of bed and dress, ignoring the way my muscles twinge from their active use the day before.

When I get outside, the first thing I notice is how hot it is. I notice a few stray satyrs making their way to the canoe lake (definitely not for the nymphs) and decide to follow them out to the water. I've been spending a lot of time at the beach lately, just enjoying the calm waves.

With two weeks between Camp Half Blood and the Battle for Olympus, everything is finally going back to normal. Well, as normal as a summer camp for half gods can be.

As I walk along the edge of the woods, I can see signs of last night's capture the flag game-battered bushes, sword scrapes on the trunks of trees, and a random spear left stuck in the dirt. Annabeth and I had rocked it-with her strategy and my invulnerability, the other team barely had a chance. The Ares cabin would be smarting for a while.

Thinking of Annabeth, I change my course from the beach to Athena's cabin without even meaning to. The neatly structured building soon comes into view and when I get to the door, I knock.

No one answers.

I glance around, and upon realizing that everyone else must be in their various training classes, and I step inside. I close the door, not really in the mood to deal with the harpies or Chiron if they find me in the deserted cabin. That is, except one other person.

I climb the stairs to her bunk and quickly find Annabeth as I expected. (Don't tell her I said this, but she has a tendency to get caught up in designing Olympus.) She's at the other end of the room, crouching over her desk, drawing something. I approach stealthily and take a moment to admire the various pictures on her wall. All over are ideas for temples and buildings for Olympus that look so realistic you feel like you can practically reach out and touch them. I then turn to the real centerpiece of the room: Annabeth. Her muscles stand out on her back and her curly hair looks unreasonably good despite the heat. I'm still in a bit of shock at the fact that she agreed to be my girlfriend. Not a whole lot has changed in our relationship; we still bicker and laugh, but there's this extra layer of trust and intimacy to us now.

I snap out of my reverie before she can sense my presence and see what a sap I am, staring at her like she's water and I need to be healed. (It's funny because I'm the son of-oh, never mind.)

I hesitate for a moment. I've never been good at greeting her now that we're a couple-everything is new. Making up my mind, I lean down and snake an arm around her middle and kiss the back of her neck. She starts a bit, as she had just been focusing. It's amazing how she can be so alert in battle yet so inattentive when her guard is down. I can't help but find it incredibly endearing. She turns to me, her face shifting from surprised to chastising.

"Percy!" she starts moving some of her books and papers in a hurry to cover what she had just been working on, "You're not supposed to be here!"

I roll my eyes playfully and run my fingers up and down her arm, "Since when have we ever followed the rules?"

She gives me a small smile, but she's still trying to keep her work out of my sight, fueling my curiosity.

"What's this?" I ask, peering over her shoulder at her giant piece of grid paper. ("Actually," I can practically hear her correct me in my mind, "it's architectural drawing parchment, Kelphead.")

"Oh, this?" she says, uncharacteristically breezy, "Just a side project, really I should be working on Aphrodite's new temple." Annabeth grimaces, "But, honestly, old French Rococo style? It'll stick out like a sore thumb interpolated with the Greek architecture of everything else." She forgets her efforts to keep me out of her stuff to instead complain about the love goddess, "I don't care if Paris is the city of love or whatever-she's going to ruin all of my hard work to make Olympus look cohesive."

I don't even bother to ask her to define interpolated as I try to get a better look at her paper that she seems to be actively covering with her body. I finally manage to snatch it from her desk, and she let's out a little yelp, her chair letting out a screech as she lifts herself out of it.

"No-wait!" Annabeth exclaims, sounding panicked, her feet shuffling into a fighting stance even though there's nothing to fight. (Old habits die hard, I guess.) I raise an eyebrow at her, and she lets out a nervous laugh in an attempt to cover her previous words and tries to nonchalantly rub the back of her neck. "Really, it's not that important."

Perhaps I should stop, but her adamance has me curious. She still looks like she wants to take it from me, but she waits, arms crossed, chewing her lip. Looking anywhere but at my face.

I smirk as I look down. Was that a blush coming to her cheeks? It's so hard to embarrass her now.

My smirk quickly fades, however, as I take in the sketch in my hands. It's a drawing of a house, and it's really beautiful-even I can recognize that. Some of it looks modern, but in subtle ways like the columns and the door, it resembles a Grecian temple. (Hey, don't judge me for knowing about architecture. I date Annabeth, remember? I don't completely tune her out when she talks about it.) Away from the house itself, I can see that she took the time to add in the surrounding landscape. There's a quaint garden with a path to the entryway and a bunch of rocks embedded into a hill to the side that look like they'd be wicked fun to jump on along with a trail that must lead to the backyard. All of the lines are crisp and perfect, I can't imagine how long this must've taken. I've never seen Annabeth pour so much into anything.

Then I notice in the corner of the paper, scribbled like an afterthought, is one word: Jackson

I look up and I'm startled by Annabeth's intense eyes meeting mine, challenging me to tease her for what she's done. But jokes are the farthest thing from my mind. All I can feel is my heart thumping against my rib cage. I don't need her to explain why Jackson is written.

She'd drawn a rendering of what she wanted our future house to look like.

I carefully place the schematic back on her desk, and for a moment we just stare at each other. Annabeth breaks first, her face flushing bright red as she stammers to explain herself.

"It-I'm not saying-I, it was just an exercise-!"

I effectively cut her off when I pull her against me in a warm embrace. I can feel her heart thumping a mile a minute on my chest. A curve of a smile is on my face even though she can't see it as I dip my head and put my lips up to her ear.

"It's beautiful, Annabeth."

I can hear her sigh, whether from my breath on her ear or from relief, I'm not entirely sure. I move my head back and I catch the pleased smile that she tries to hide.

"...Do you think so, Seaweed brain? I've been thinking about what kind of place that I'd want to live in. Camp Half Blood is great, but I want to have a life out there in the world. It's been hard to combine the different styles though-"

It's a bit cliché, but I kiss her to cut her off.

My mind instantly feels like a lump of seaweed. It won't come as a surprise, but she usually has this effect on me. Annabeth is the only steady thing in my life-my battle partner, my best friend, and everything in between.

I can feel her hand settle onto the small of my back and an involuntary moan escapes my lips. I can feel her smile against me, she gets this strange amusement from making me react, but she doesn't know how it makes my blood rush and my soul rise. I reach down to kiss her neck and she gasps-

She's the love of my life.

The thought is so sudden and intense, I want to stop and tell her more than anything-

Suddenly she's pulling away, an estranged look on her flushed face. I retreat as well, even though I don't really want to. I do my best to shake the haze that kissing her put over my mind.

"Wha, what is it?" I ask immediately once I can think straight, worried that I've gone to far or done something wrong, but she's raising a hand to cover the little laugh that's escaping her mouth until she's positively shaking with it. Feeling very put out, I frown.

"Come on, Wise Girl, what's so funny?"

She bites back her smile (to my torture, why are her lips so pretty?) and places one of her hands on my chest, splaying her fingers.

"Oh gods, I was just thinking of how ironic it is that you're kissing me in one of Athena's temples." She grins at the look on my face, "Like father like son, I guess."

I let out a groan and rest my forehead on hers, trying to stay serious and not get lost in her alluring gray eyes.

"You don't think she'll turn you into a gorgon, do you?"

She snorts, and I can see the way her nose crinkles up while I'm this close.

"I doubt it. She'd probably give you a snake head before anything else."

I must've gone really pale at that, because Annabeth laughs again and kisses the tip of my nose.

"No worries, Seaweed brain. I'll keep you safe," she says in good humor, but brings her hand around my back and touches my only weak point to seal her words. I shiver, and can't help but kiss her again, because I believe her. If this outstanding girl, smart and beautiful promised to protect me, than who was I to worry?

Annabeth always has been my better half.

.-.-.-.

When I startle from my sleep, I'm not sure why I'm crying.

I glance around the Roman bed quarters of Camp Jupiter, looking to see if anyone is around to have woken me, but the night is silent. Only the sounds of quiet breathing disturbs the dark night. My heart is pounding, and I feel tingly all over-especially at the small of my back.

That dream.

I choke, my breath short and quick. I grab at my head as if I can keep in the scene that I'm sure is an actual honest-to-goodness memory in my mind. I see the images flash through my consciousness, all too fast to keep up with before they're already gone. I all too rapidly lose the context and the specifics, but I remember who it was about.

Annabeth.

What color was her hair? I desperately think to the dream, but it's already slipping away. Was it blonde-or perhaps it was a dusty brunette?

Like so many other things, I can't remember.

I cover my face with a pillow, needing privacy from the overcrowded room. A few strained tears fall silently from my eyes. A part of me is sure that I had a good life before this madness.

I cling to the warm feeling of the dream as long as I can, and for a fleeting moment, I'm sure I can feel the warm pressure of her lips on mine and the vibration of her laugh in my chest.

But even that fades as quickly as it comes.

All I know is that I had been loved by this girl, and I had loved her back.

Oh, the Fates are cruel-they left her name but not the feelings. My heart beats painfully. I'll have to keep masquerading with these Romans even though nothing about this place feels right. Among all of these focused soldiers, I am distraught.

I take in a slow, shaky breath. The dream is just a memory of a memory now, and I allow myself to wonder for the first time if there's people out there that miss me too. It all hurts too much to dwell on the thought, however. Like I know the answer but it's just out of reach.

I wonder if she, Annabeth, ever dreams of me.

Somehow, I don't doubt it.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, cursing the gods, but eventually, I manage to fall back asleep. There, somewhere at the edge of waking, a solitary thought floats up, distant and faint...something more than a name.

She has gray eyes.

.-.-.-.

AN: Hello guys! Hope you liked that little one shot. This is my first fic for this fandom, so your thoughts and reviews would be greatly appreciated!

-Pinklily8