Let's face it, Annabeth and Percy have that whole love-of-a-lifetime thingy going on and well, Thalia is just, left like that. She's one of my favourite characters, so this is (sort of) an ode to her.

Disclaimer: Last I checked, nope, not a ridiculously talented and imaginative American dude who brought happiness to children all over; so no, I (sadly) do not own PJO.

Dance with me, darling

(Scattered beneath your feet are hundreds of millions of stars)

You watch them together, dancing, but not quite getting it right. You don't think about it though, don't scrutinise their every move and peg down every mistake they make like you normally would.

(You are trained to be flawless
, expected to be flawless; to have no weaknesses. You learn to exploit the weaknesses in others.)

Instead, you concentrate on how his arm is placed protectively on her lower back, pulling her close enough to trip all over him, but not quite enough to fall gracefully to the floor.

(And yeah, Annabeth has always been beautiful, now hasn't she?)

You focus on how he is smiling at her, his sea-green eyes twinkling mischievously and she sees her emanating radiance. She's smiling in this way you have never ever seen in the many years you've been best friends, the many years you've grown up together.

(You practically raised her; and you think about the bawling seven year-old whose storm grey eyes had seen far too much; while staring at the twenty-one year-old in front of you, in a poofy white dress smiling like she has risen above all ashes.)

And no, you aren't jealous, because this is your beautiful best friend and she probably deserves happiness more than you ever would.

So you sip your punch and feel a wave of sadness, of emptiness because you see the two of them, and you know more than anything, better than anyone, that what they have, it's true love; the kind that never runs out and lasts children and grandchildren and great grandchildren and great great grandchildren.

(You think about the boy with the blond hair, blue eyes and scar on his eye and you force yourself to ignore the pain that manifests itself in your chest.)

You think 'what if' and about what could have been a little too often after Percy and Annabeth's wedding, and you probably shouldn't, because you ache and break and strain and suffer.

(Let's face it, you have the rest of eternity to ponder the possibilities and endure the pain.)

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