Gray

A couple sat near the Long Island beach, reveling in the salty breeze, and even more so, each other.

The girl was tall and lean, wearing an orange shirt and denim shorts, complete with a holster which housed a long, wickedly sharp bronze knife. She had smoky gray eyes and curly hair that was tied in a messy bun and cascaded down to her shoulders in shiny blonde ringlets.

The boy was well-toned and lean and he wore a matching shirt, accompanied by long black jeans. He bore no obvious weapon as the girl did, but a pen the same color as the girl's dagger poked out of his pocket. His eyes were deep green with specks of blue thrown in, and when they moved it seemed as if waves were milling in them. His hair was a mess of black. Solid black.

Annabeth (the girl) reached up from in between her companion's legs to brush a piece of wayward obsidian hair out of his eyes, frowning. Percy (the boy) glanced down at her, eyebrows scrunched.

"What's up, Wise Girl?"

There was a pause where they stared at each other, sea green clashing with stormy gray. Then, she spoke.

"It's gone." She whispered, a bit downcast. He couldn't help but think how cute she looked when she was upset.

"What's gone?" He inquired, shifting so that she was sitting on his lap.

"You're gonna think it's stupid." She pouted and he laughed.

"Annabeth, if there's one thing that I know you're not, it's stupid. You're also no arachnologist." He smirked as she shuddered involuntarily in his arms. "Just shoot."

"Alright… The gray streaks. From when we held up the sky. They're gone."

Percy stared at her for a moment before chuckling. "Annabeth, they've been gone for a while. And besides, I thought you wouldn't want to have gray hair at fourteen."

"I was thirteen, stupid, my birthday's in March. And that's not it. It was… nice. It, you know, tied us together."

His eyebrows raised and he said, "I never woulda pegged you as sentimental, Wise Girl."

She blushed and hit his arm and muttered, "Shut up."

There was a pause before he broke the comfortable silence. Leaning into her, he whispered into the shell of her ear, "I'd hold the sky for you again, if you wanted. But I don't know how well get yours back, 'cause I'm never letting you do that again. Maybe some hair dye…"

His voice trailed off, leaving her blushing in its wake. She turned around to peck him on the lips and say, "Now look who's being sentimental."

He shrugged and grabbed her hand. Sliding it down to the small of his back, he said, "Well, we don't need those anymore. You're kinda stuck with me until I die."

She rubbed the spot and he groaned.

"Yeah, I know."

A/N: It sucks cuz you assholes wouldn't give me prompts :P jk, you guys are chill. This is cuz the streaks aren't mentioned at all after the third book, so it can be assumed that they're gone.