Written in a spurt of wonderful boredom. Please enjoy this Percabeth fluff.
Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
Consistently Inconsistent
She hears it before she sees it. He plops it down upon the Athena table, giggles from the Aphrodite cabin quietly pervading her concentration. Looking up, she sees Percy standing above her, the sun cutting behind his ruffled hair, giving him an almost angelic look, like wings are about to sprout from his back. He has a small grin on his face, and he glances back down at the table, and then to her eyes, searching for any sort of a response. Wordlessly she looks down to see a necklace.
Sort of.
Her eyes warily looked over a glossy, clouded gray stone, oval shaped like a dewdrop with a quickly cut hole through the top, ragged sharp chunks jutting out. And, judging by the yellow, frayed piece of rope looped through the hole and effortlessly tied at the back, this must be a necklace. But... why?
"What is this?" Annabeth asks shortly, pushing one of her blonde curls behind her ear, and shifting her eyes to his oceanic green ones. If only he had found a stone like those.
"A gift," Percy says simply, like it could not be more obvious, though perhaps it only is to him.
"Why?" She wonders incredulously. The gaggle of Aphrodite girls watching are starting to annoy her, all of them gossiping. No doubt by the end of the day there will be a new "Percabeth" rumor going around. She couldn't wait for the snarky remarks from her siblings.
He shrugs. "Dunno really. Just saw this stone while out swimming this morning and I thought you'd like it."
"Oh," She murmurs, blinking up at him. "Oh."
"Oh," She says a third time, shaking her head. "Well. All right. Thank you," She adds, as a second thought.
"You're welcome."
They gaze at each other for a moment longer, Annabeth searching for any sarcastic manner in his eyes, but all she sees is usual whimsical self, his eyes bright and sprightly.
Gesturing to the blueprints splayed out in front of her she says, "Well good-bye then."
With a chuckle, he leans forward, his palm landing on one of her sketches. She plans to groan, agitated that he would think for one second his hands were allowed on her work, but she lets it die away when he presses his lips against her forehead and murmurs with a breathy laugh, "Good morning to you too."
When he pulls away and turns around, walking back to wherever he came from, Annabeth ties the necklace around her neck, letting the stone lay right above her beating heart, ignoring the "awwww's" coming from the background.
What just happened?
Six days later, Annabeth and Percy lay on Percy's bed in the Poseidon cabin, his arms wrapped around her as works on her laptop, leaning her head against his chest while he gazes intently at her designs, constantly asking questions about them.
"What's that shape mean?"
"It's the theta. It means - "
"Wait what is this design for anyway?"
"It's for the main garden for Apollo, though I was thinking this was more Artemis' sty - "
"When do you think the hunters are coming around again? I kinda mis - "
"Percy!" Annabeth yells sharply, turning around to look at him. "Can we just have some silence for once while I do this? It's distracting enough being this close to you," she adds, causing a blush to creep up her neck.
He smirks, nodding as she turns back, clicking her keys again as he places his face against her hair and breathes in her aroma. Silence once again descends upon them, their ears tuned to the quiet spraying of water from Poseidon's fountain.
With a sudden jolt, Percy leans over the side of his bed, giving Annabeth a fright and causing her to latch onto her laptop. "I just remembered something!"
"What?" Annabeth says, gently placing her laptop at the edge of the bed before leaning over to look at his arms reaching under the bed frame.
"Here," he replies when he comes back up, shoving something into her left hand.
Looking down, she fumbles with a collection of blue and orange seashells knotted together hastily on one of his signature yellowing, faded strings. Each shell curves like the sort of shells you'd find on a snail or crab.
"I kept finding these sames shells every morning on the beach when I went out," He explains, grinning with some pride. "So I decided to collect some and make a bracelet out of them for you."
She frowns, looking at her wrist and then at obnoxious and distracting movements of the shells jiggling.
"I'll put it on my ankle," She decides, slipping it around her foot.
They settle back into the original position, and, as Annabeth attempts to get used to her new piece of jewelry, her toes glance off Percy's, a smile forming on both their lips.
"Good afternoon," Percy says brightly twelve days later, holding something behind his back.
"Hi," Annabeth replies, taking notice of where his arms were placed. Recently she had grown accustomed to his gifts, but each one confused her even more so. "And what is that behind you?"
He smiles sheepishly, pulling a casually tied arrangement of flowers out. She gasped slightly at the array of colors, from red to maroon, but more so she was taken by the white, almost glowing one in the center. It was beautiful, really, perfectly sculpted by the sunlight, each petal shaped almost like a stream of dissolving water, fading right at the tips.
"I went out to the fields and forest and decided to go flower picking," He comments. "I don't know where the white one came from, but the tree nymphs said it was okay for a hero as cute as me to pick it."
She hits him playfully, before sniffing the air and noticing the aroma of smoke. Glancing down for the first time she sees his jeans are completely scorched. "Percy what the Hades happened?!"
"Oh that!" He mumbles, looking down too. "Well the white flower was kinda guarded by this fire crab. So I might've gotten a bit burned."
"You're such a Seaweed Brain."
"Wouldn't want it any other way."
He turns to walk away then, but she grabs his wrist before she can forget to ask, "What's up with these gifts? They're so random."
He laughs. "I prefer the term 'consistently inconsistent.'"
She smiles too. That was true. Random, yes. But perhaps that was what made them so perfect, perhaps why they were consistent, in an odd way.
He wriggles out of her grip, leaving her to find a jar or vase of water to keep her tokens alive.
"I found this today."
Walking with Piper, Annabeth turns to see Percy holding something in his left palm, reaching out toward her. Piper excuses herself with a small smirk, letting them have some alone time. Annabeth blushes a bit, ignoring the playful glances from her good friend, and instead looking over Percy with a curious grin.
"Another gift?" She wonders, furrowing her brow. "I thought you had stopped with them."
In truth it had been a long time since his last one, precisely eighteen days, and because of that Annabeth hadn't expected another one anytime soon, unless it was an anniversary of sorts.
Percy raises his eyebrows in mild surprise and shakes his head. "Don't worry Wise girl, I haven't forgotten about them. I was just looking for the perfect one."
"Well, what is it?"
Percy opens his palm slowly, revealing an oddly shaped charcoal stone with his name etched on it in horribly jagged writing. Picking it up and placing it in her hands, Percy explains, "I found it in the sea, already shaped like this, like a heart."
She twirls it around, rubbing the smooth surface with her index finger. "It's pretty lopsided for a heart."
He laughs. "It's a metaphor."
It's her turn to raise her eyebrows. "Big word for you, Seaweed Brain. Elaborate."
"Nature can create a lot of beautiful things like this," Percy says, gesturing to the stone, "really beautiful things, but nothing is ever perfectly made."
"Yeah?" Annabeth smirks, intrigued.
"Yeah, except for one time. Once in the whole history of time."
"And when was that?" Annabeth asks, even more curious.
Percy leans forward abruptly, his eyes locked with hers. "You."
He kisses her nose lightly and takes off, leaving her with a gift, a blush, and an idea.
The next morning, Percy wakes up in his cabin, sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the blinds, dancing upon his face with a bright smile. He grins back, running a hand through his hair and yawning lazily. Leaping out of his bed, he proceeds his dresser, looking for a clean shirt, and, if he cannot find a clean shirt, then an almost clean shirt. After getting presentable for the day, he opens the door to his cabin, very unexcited for Greek lessons first thing after breakfast.
At his feet is an oddly shaped charcoal stone with Annabeth's name etched on it in clean, perfectly cursive handwriting. Curious, he leans down to see a piece of paper underneath it. Lifting the stone, he reads one word drawn in blue ink on yellowing paper.
Twice.
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