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Three Times Percy Almost Says 'I Love You' and the First Time He Does
I.
It's all he can think about. The chill that had run down his spine, centering and curling around the small of his back as he braced himself for…well he didn't exactly know what for. But then no pain came, and he didn't feel any blood, or see an attacker get past his defenses. The only thing that he could focus on was the tiny whimper that came from behind him, and gods he never wanted to hear that sound again.
Annabeth Annabeth Annabeth.
The daughter of Athena who was always so strong and brave and smart. Who yelled battle cries and didn't back down from any fights. This was not his Annabeth. The sound of utter surrender that had passed through her lips, and although it made no sense, he could practically feel her pain. Percy knew that this could be the end from that little sound of helplessness alone.
Less than a millisecond later, he was turning, and her knees were giving out. He caught her with the arm that wasn't holding Riptide, she yelped again, and he loosened his grip. The sound killed him. Percy lashed his sword in a circle, and Kronos was telling him to surrender.
It killed him to realize that if it came down to it, for Annabeth, he would. He would die for her, he would surrender for her, he would give up the world for her.
Her blood seeped onto his armor, there was so much of it that when he breathed in all he smelled was the metallic taste of it. He wanted it gone, he wanted to kill Ethan for doing this to her, and he hated himself thoroughly for letting this happen to her.
Annabeth Annabeth Annabeth.
It was by pure luck that Blackjack was able to grab ahold of her and take her away before he handed everything over to Kronos. And as much as he was relieved she was out of danger, he missed her immediately. Annabeth was his partner, they had stood shoulder to shoulder, warding off masters since they were twelve.
During the rest of the battle, Percy tried to block out the image of her falling against him like a crutch, the blood pooling out of her in waves, and the knowledge that the knife that had gone into her shoulder was meant for him.
There had been poison on the dagger.
Looking at her lying on the chair on the hotel terrace, beads of sweat on her forehead and a pale face, he couldn't breathe. He thought that he was dying when he saw the green skin around the wound, and the puss dripping out of it. She squeezed his hand tight as Will healed her, and he watched her eyebrows furrow, and her face turn white with pain, knowing that this should be him.
He should be holding Annabeth's hand while his wound was washed out. He should be on the verge of death, people crowding around him with worry and staring at his face, memorizing the lines and curves because they all might lose him.
Annabeth Annabeth Annabeth.
Percy guessed the look on his face was pretty obvious because Selena shuffled everyone out, and they were alone, and talking, and she wasn't mad at him. She kept her hand in his, and his arm was reaching to take hers, to bring it across his back to where his largest vulnerability lay. When her hands splayed across the spot, he shivered.
She had this look of wonder on her face, her hair all mused and color slowly returning to her cheeks. They were so close, and Percy had just showed her one of the most intimate things about himself like it was nothing. Because of course Annabeth should know, and of course she would make things so easy, and of course his heart had almost stopped beating when he thought she was going to die.
He wanted to tell her he loved her.
But then they were being interrupted, and reality came crashing down, and he kept quiet because how could she ever want him the way he wanted her?
II.
Percy was sure he was dreaming, because there was no way Annabeth Chase was kissing him. He was an idiot who couldn't stop blushing and Annabeth was this beautiful, fierce warrior that was way out of his league. And yet, they were kissing.
Her hands around his neck were playing with his hair, and to be frank, they were both smiling so much that Percy wasn't really sure they were kissing anymore. It was more of them pressing their lips together as they grinned and laughed. She smelled like lemons, and felt soft, and tasted like birthday cake.
He had the sudden urge to grab her and pull her even closer and tell her he loved her because gods of Olympus did he ever. His heart hurt with every second that went by that he didn't tell her, but he didn't want to rush things.
When the campers came out from behind their hiding places––which he definitely found a little odd––he was only mildly annoyed. He almost thanked Clarisse when they were thrown into the lake, and when Annabeth's face lit up when he put a bubble around her to keep her dry, his heart did a little extra pound in his chest.
He cradled her to him, her legs wrapping around him as she let him kiss her softly. He loved this woman, he had wanted to be with her for some time now, and the thought of letting her go made him hold on tighter.
When they broke apart, Annabeth muttered his name against his lips, and Percy's legs almost gave out as he sunk them to the lake floor.
III.
The campers had been gone for hours.
Percy sat by the crackling fire, he watched as the flames crackled and sparked, drifting up to the stars above. The night had been cold, and he didn't have a blanket, but he was warmer than he had ever been.
Annabeth twisted from her place next to him on the bench, her head lifting from where it was on his shoulder. She turned so she was fully lying on top of him, staring down at him with those gray eyes that were full of wonder. He remembered the contentment he had felt in that moment, as she smiled and pressed her lips against the corner of his grin. Her hair had fallen into his face, the princess curls tickling his skin.
Percy's thumb had brushed against her ribs underneath her camp shirt (that was actually his). She had giggled, truly giggled. It was a sound that just a while ago he would have sworn Annabeth Chase would never make. But in that moment, after a few months of dating, the giggle seemed so easy and so her he could barely breathe.
The harpies should have come for them, sitting by the campfire long past curfew, but they hadn't. Looking back, Percy wondered if they had known what was to come, and had wanted to give them this last night before everything went to Hades.
He reached up as she pulled away, kissing the skin right under her ear swiftly. She had argued with him, saying that it tickled and trying to get him to stop. Her protests had been futile, and after a few minutes of her laughing uncontrollably, he had stopped his attack and kissed her. It had been sweet and gentle, as things usually were between them.
Percy's hands drifted to her hair, playing with the roots as they had exchanged loving whispers and kisses that neither of them had wanted to pull away from. After many hours, he had scooped her up, and she had surprisingly let him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her head resting on his chest as he walked them to Cabin 6.
When he set her down, she was so sleepy that he had to hold her up a little. Before he could kiss her goodnight, the door behind them had opened, and Malcom had reprimanded them quietly. The couple had pretended to listen, but the moment the door was closed, Annabeth pecked him on the lips.
He recalled her voice being extra soft as she said goodnight, and his being extra rough as he said the same. Neither of them had moved after that.
I love you.
Percy had never wanted to say it more than in that moment.
IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou
After a while of silence, her grip loosened, and he had seen the small disappointment written on her face. Why couldn't he say it?
He walked a few feet away, but something in him had twisted when he heard her opening the door. A terribly cold feeling overcame him that he shouldn't walk away, not tonight. Percy had turned, walking back to her and capturing her in a kiss that had them both breathless. He remembered being in the middle of saying it when Malcom had come out again, glaring at Percy and tapping his foot.
So he had walked away, hands in his pockets as he strolled to Cabin 3. There was always tomorrow. He would tell her tomorrow.
But tomorrow never came, and the camp woke up to Annabeth screams in her bed. Before anyone had checked his room, or the woods, or the beach…she had known.
Percy Jackson was gone.
I.
He didn't care about any of the Romans telling him to stop as the monstrous ship came into view. Not as it docked in the camp lake, not as the gangplank was put down, and definitely not as she stepped off the boat.
Gods.
She was beautiful. Her hair was longer and golden, her tan more prominent, her eyes as stormy as ever. In that moment, his mind flashed to all the memories he had regained. All this time, with Lupa's pack and Camp Jupiter and Alaska, all he had ever know was the name Annabeth, and that she was important.
But everything had begun to come back, and only nights ago he had woken up in a sweat, flashes of her racing through him.
A battle, and her falling into him as she was wounded. The rage and panic he had felt.
I love you.
Her lips on his, a blue birthday cake that looked like a brick more than anything, a bubble at the bottom of a lake.
I love you.
A starry night filled with kisses and giggles and apprehensive brothers who always interrupt at the worst times.
I love you.
It had all come crashing into him, every memory of her, of camp, of the war, of their quests, of his mom. His mom who would probably kill him for all this.
He kept walking, and so did she, looking into his eyes as she crossed the sand. There were other people walking off the ship, but all he could see was her. All he could thing was her. All he was was her.
She stopped right in front of him, her eyes watering and a look of uncertainty on her face. Because of course. She didn't know he remembered her.
Percy took the last steps, and leaned down, letting the rest of the Romans and Greeks around them fade away.
"I am in love with you, Annabeth Chase," it was a breathless whisper into her ear that only they could hear.
Her legs gave way almost immediately, and he sank down with her. She gripped him fiercely with that strong entitlement he had missed so much, and crashed their lips together. It was hard and desperate and full of salt as they tasted each others tears.
She whispered the words back to him, and he laughed against her lips, holding her face in his hands, whispering it over and over and over again.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.