I only just realized how good I am at describing romance. It took an entire chapter just to describe this one scene… This is kind of sad.

I've finally finished the second to last chapter! All that's left is an epilogue. Because EVERYBODY needs an epilogue. Especially Nobody. ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own the PJO series. Because if I did, I would have made Percy and Annabeth start dating a LOT sooner than two (count 'em: TWO) pages before the last chapter of the fifth book.

Finally…

(A.N. This is a quote that I altered to fit the story from The Host. Read that book! Even if you don't like Twilight, you have to read it! It's SOOOOO much better!)

What is it that makes love between individuals so much more desirable than a society built off of public love? Is it because it is exclusive and capricious? In such a society, love and acceptance would be offered to all. Do we crave bigger challenges? Individual love is tricky; it has no hard-and-fast rules—it might be given for free, as with family and relatives, or earned through time and hard work, as with friends or lovers, or completely and heartbreakingly unattainable, as with a one-sided care.

Or is it simply better somehow? Because we humans can hate with so much fury, is the other end of the spectrum that we can love with more heart and zeal and fire?

No one knows why we yearn after it so desperately. All we know is that, once you have it, it is worth every ounce of risk and agony it costs. It is better than one could ever imagine.

It is everything.

That was exactly what they realized when he reached forward and pulled her face forward, capturing her lips with his own.

They held each other close. So close that they couldn't count as two. They had never been kissed before, but they knew that—even if they were to be kissed a thousand times more throughout their lives—those kisses could never compare to this one.

Because this kiss was perfect.

He didn't try anything. His hands rested on the bare skin of her waist from where her shirt had lifted a few inches. Hers rested on the back of his neck.

The scents of sea breeze and lemon soap wafted around them, mixing into one chaotic scent. Her lips tasted like cherry chap stick, and their combined breath carried the smell of cinnamon and spearmint. It was intoxicating to the both of them.

They forgot where they were… who they were… They forgot everything except that perfect kiss.

After ten months, there was no hunger. No lust. They had finally come together. That was all that mattered to them.

Their lips moved in sync. Their tongues tangled with each other. Both hearts pounded against the other's chest. She sat in his lap; his arms held her tightly. They wanted to stay there forever.

Permanently.

Never had they felt so alive. So free. They felt as if they were flying. As if they could do anything.

Finally, a need to breath pulled her reluctantly away, and he bent his head to press his lips to the crux of her neck.

No words were said. The kiss had displayed more than they could ever say.

She shifted so that she was sitting between his legs, with her back resting against him, her body rising and falling with his breathing. She could feel his heart racing under her shoulder blade. She could feel her own racing as he brushed his mouth up and down her neck, dropping feather-light kisses every few centimeters, leaving a trail of tiny brands of flame wherever he touched. His hands rested flat on her stomach, fingers spread.

After several minutes, they finally, reluctantly, stood up.

And—just as they had on that first day—they left to go swimming.

Okay… You know what I said about only having the epilogue after this? I lied!

There will be One more chapter, THEN an epilogue!

YAY! MORE PERCABETH! RAISE THE ROOF! (*facepalm* I can't believe I just said—er, typed that…)