.:Still Breathing:.

Written by: High Fiving Jesus

Typed: February 26, 2011

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I didn't like to admit to the swell of a barrier in my throat.

I couldn't acknowledge the constriction in my chest—I wouldn't—and it was painfully obvious that Annabeth knew this, despite my attempts of disguising it. Yes, I was protesting, and okay, those protests emerged more as strangled whines from an infant—bite me. Through the trek to my cabin, the thought of her becoming my personal bodyguard became unbearable. I knew—I knew somewhere in the crevices of my mind—that she didn't need to protect me from anything. I understood that my behavior was that of a… a concerned parent, but everything seemed numb and against my protests.

It was painfully obvious that I was yet again depending on someone else to keep me from stumbling over cliffs in the not so literal sense. And yet—

"Percy," she cursed and her hands met my chest, ensuring I stop in my tracks. "You have to calm down. You have to."

"Why?" I demanded, aware of my abilities to annoy emerging. But, Hades, if no one started listening to me…

"Because I won't take you on this quest if you don't…" her voice may have been just above what could be counted as a whisper, making a horrible emphasize on every bristle of leaves or coo of a bird, yet the words were cold. A threat that I actually enjoyed hearing. Under other circumstances, I might have been slightly unnerved, dispirited; we went on every quest together, how could she… I pushed her limit.

"What makes you think I even want to go on a quest, huh?" I ignored the distance that statement carved. "I'd only get in the way; you know it. Don't be so stupid." I had no room to talk about stupidity; I was fairly decent in the makings of idiocy on more than one account and had proved it.

An irritated growl emerged from the back of her throat and I could feel her moving away from me again. It was all I could do; stand stock-still without a clue as to where to go. The feeling of being lost, the dread that was consuming every corner of my heart more frequently, constant anticipation of some miracle that I wasn't completely alone and—

Her fingers encircled my wrist and a low breath passed through her lips, or nose, I couldn't tell. "Sorry," she muttered vehemently. "Forgot." My feet moved automatically with hers, as if reliance was my second nature.

The way she lulled me into an automatic trail, dragged me towards my cabin like I was baggage rather than her desperately useless…ah, boyfriend, was eating away at me. I felt so… used, pointless, hollow, empty; a dull antique on a shelf that needed to be dusted off every few years and then left, more as a burden of some weird relative. The tips of her fingers dug into the veins of my arms, and though it left me unharmed, the gesture was so…

"Annabeth," I tried flatly. "That's my arm."

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" she asked evenly, her nails now embedded in my skin. I ignored the ferocity and delved into my thoughts, where she was content to be, because I'd be darned if she was going to hold any power over me. I wasn't exactly sure what led to the platonic essence of our relationship or why it had set in so out-of-the-blue, viola. I was sure that it had been less than ten minutes earlier that we had been routinely playing our hand in sword fighting, and yet she was ready to break every limb in my body. That small sliver of clever uniqueness in my mind was whispering.

You enticed her, idiot.

And I had—

Hold up, hold up, hold up. This story's crap.

-Sigh-

I do suppose something will have to be done about that, especially when I have planned nothing in advance and all of my past planning has been drained from my worn-out, strung-up brain. Could you not feel me completely dying as I wrote this?

Rewriting, and if you care to even glimpse at whatever this story—and whenever—will become and return to the site, you'll wait.

And maybe you'll be disappointed; maybe it will be marvelous.

I can feel something breaking as I'm telling you this—I'm such a loser for dropping before any action has begun, but I can't just sit here and allow you to hold your breath for some sniveling worm like myself. I won't, and so I must sink back into the deepest corners of my mind and try to understand what will happen.

I beg that you hate me so that I know you're human.