Did minutes already pass? Hours? Days?
It felt like forever; it seemed like they would never reach the bottom.
Shut up, Percy. Remember what it said in Annabeth's dictionary back at Camp? It's a bottomless pit of evil.
Still, he wished it would end. He wished that he wouldn't feel the cold wind passing through them as they fell deeper. He wished that he could've cut the silk out of Annabeth's legs.
He wished he could've held longer to the ledge.
The pit was even darker than it was a few seconds ago. If it weren't for Annabeth's hands clutching his own, he would've thought he would be alone.
His grip on hers never faltered. He was probably shaking in fear now.
He felt Annabeth's thumb smooth the back of his hand. He would've laughed, if they weren't in freaking Tartarus.
"Seaweed Brain! Why are your hands so sticky?" Annabeth complained as she wiped her hands on her jeans.
It was a beautiful Sunday, and they've been dating for about a week.
Percy laughed. "I have no idea, Annabeth. My hands are just like that."
She frowned. "It seems like you ate candy and never washed your hands. And they're sweaty too."
Percy swatted her arm. "Hey, I'm a mortal too, okay? I know that's just normal; getting sweaty hands. Sometimes it happens when you're-"
"Nervous?" Annabeth smirked. "Are you scared of holding your girlfriend's hand, Seaweed Brain?"
Percy laughed nervously. "Huh, 'course not! I battled with so many monsters, got dipped in the River Styx, and held the sky. This-" he pointed to their hands "Is piece of cake."
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Well I know you're not afraid of this."
Annabeth removed her hands from his and it went straight to Percy's neck.
"Ah, now you're talking, Wise Girl." They kissed rather passionately in the middle of Times Square.
Ah, the early stages of romance.
Percy managed to smile at the memory. He looked down to probably where their hands were. He clutched it even tighter.
He didn't care if his hands were sticky like the time he ate candy before their date. He didn't care if it was sweating like crazy because he was scared to die.
He remembered the times when they strolled down the beach or shopped in the mall holding hands. It wasn't just a way of showing that back off, this girl is mine or sorry ladies, I'm taken.
It meant that no matter what circumstances they were in, even if it meant falling deep down to Tartarus and facing imminent death, nothing else mattered.
It was having faith, facing the unknown-
with their hands together.
I told you I suck at endings. Anyway, please review if you want more Mark of Athena-related fanfics! I lalalalaloved it!