What? Another story? What witchery is this?
Annabeth-centric, focusing on the three days before they picked up Jason and crew at the Canyons.
I owneth not.
Enjoy.
The Nights Before
{the first night}
She studies herself in the mirror, just another part in her nightly routine. There's something different about tonight, though. A furrow between her brows that wasn't there before, a look of worry in her eyes. And she keeps telling herself it's stupid, not to worry. He's probably out rescuing a herd of baby octopi, or something. And she isn't worried. No, really. She's not worrying about him. He'll be fine. He always is. So she's not worrying.
Okay, maybe a little bit.
{the second night}
She can't see past her limp ponytail, or the bags under her eyes. She can't see herself behind the tension emanating from her body and fogging up her mirror. She can't find Annabeth in the girl in front of her, the one who snapped at an innocent camper for talking about him. She can't find herself.
She can't find him, either.
{the third night}
She doesn't know that her hands are shaking as she tries to brush her lifeless hair. She doesn't know that purple shadows obscure half of her face. She doesn't know that she has a haunted look in her eyes. She doesn't know where he is. But she knows where he'll be. He'll be there, tomorrow. And she'll finally find him, and he'll be fine, and he'll be back. Because he will be there.
He has to be.
Review, darlings.
