I realize I haven't written in quite a bit, so here's a bit of short angst to make up for it.

Warning: will be OOC, so don't be surprised.

Hope you like it :)

Promises. Broken promises.

His hands on her, moaning her name as he used to moan yours.

You watch, silent, invisible, as she moans his back, running her hands through his raven black hair and you blink away the tears that threaten to fall.

You used to do that.

You used to run your hands through his hair and make him happy.

You used to make him moan your name, and you would moan his in return.

And now he is hurting you, breaking the oath he swore so long ago.

You wish to confront him.

You should yell at him and hurt him as he hurt you- but you can't, because you are weak, and you do not know what to say.

You promised, you think bitterly, hugging yourself and pretending it was him. You said you loved me. You said you loved only me.

But you saw it coming. He has been growing distant from you, coming home later and leaving earlier.

You suspected, and here is the proof.

He is getting quieter, and so is the girl he replaced you with, so you turn away from where you had been standing because you don't want them to notice you.

You do not want him to see your broken stance, your tears. You do not want to be broken in front of the person who broke you.

You want to scream.

You want to scream loud, loud enough to block out the sound of your heart shattering, shattering into millions and millions of fragile pieces until it is nothing but broken glass- but you don't, because you are a coward.

/

Dreams. Broken dreams.

A kiss goodbye, a kiss goodnight, a kiss goodmorning.

He kisses her like he kissed you, and you shut your eyes tightly to block out the images of his mouth on hers.

Of your dreams on his lips, washed away by another's.

You had a future planned out, a happy marriage, two kids, and you want it to be with him.

He said he wanted to have that future with you, too.

You close the door, softly- you should slam it, slam it in anger, but you don't- and lower yourself onto the bed that was reserved for guests.

He stole your spot in the bed you shared and filled it with someone else.

The ring on your finger- a promise ring- is suddenly unbearably heavy, and you trace the engravings he had carved for you himself- dreams.

He shattered your dream into oblivion, and now he is making up new, different dreams with another girl- a girl that is not you.

Stop, you whisper, to no one at all. He won't hear you. Stop breaking my things.

You know in your heart that he will not stop.

/

Heart. Broken heart.

You wake up alone, and the spot where he once lay seems more visible than ever.

You glance over at it briefly before closing your eyes and willing yourself not to cry.

Then again, you think. He will not be here to witness my pain.

And so there you rest, salty tears streaming down your cheeks as you try to supress a new ache that has begun to show in your chest.

You place on hand over it and wish for it to go away, but it does not, and you lay in the cold sheets, sobbing silently even though here is no one to see you as you gaze at the spot where he would have been.

What have I done, you say softly as the pain in your chest grows, to have him do this to me.

And you do not know.

Your heart is slowly crumbling, piece by piece, each passing day as you are reminded once again of how little he loves you.

Heart strings pull tight as you think of him, then they break when you think of him without you.

I'm sorry, whispers your heart. But I can take this no longer.

You cannot help but think bitterly of how another girl will get to wake and look into his sea green eyes, how another girl will get to capture his affections and then your chest starts burning and stop doing this to me, I hate you.

You don't hate him.

You hate yourself for being unable to hate him.

/

You. You are broken.

He has broken you and you want to break him back but you can't, because you are weak.

You look in the mirror and see a tired-looking girl with dark circles under her grey eyes.

How sharp and clear those eyes once were, but now they are dull and boring and full of sadness and despair.

Your blonde hair is limp and you hate it.

You hate the bruises that, despite all of the makeup you use to cover them, are still so visible.

You hate the way your eyebrows are now permanently bunched up, and you hate how tense your are.

And then you imagine a girl that is not you with red hair, gorgeous red hair, and you can see why he no longer loves you.

I'm sorry, you apologize to your reflection. I'm sorry I made you this way.

You want him to say this to you- you want him to apologize, you want him to smile at you so you don't have to smile at yourself.

Pathetic, you spit at yourself, and it seems as if your reflection shrinks back.

It is true; you are pathetic.

You hate this.

Your heart is broken, your dreams are broken, all of the promises he made to you have been broken.

And now you are, too.

But you cannot leave, no.

Because you are weak.

Because you are a coward.

Because you love him- you cannot hate him, despite your tries to, for you are frail and he has made you this way.

Because you have been battered and bruised and hit and punched and it does not matter if you run, because this constant pain will follow you anywhere.

So you stay.

You hate it.

Fin

I mean, I shouldn't really have to explain who the characters are, because it says in the summary (plus this is a PJO fanfic), but incase you don't know, it was Percy and Annabeth.

Obviously, they are OOC (yeah, I know Annabeth is strong and all, but the whole point is she is no longer strong, so).

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to leave a review!

~Brynn