A/N: Hey, guys! I may or may not have failed a few quizzes, butttttt I finished this chapter. Please boost my already low self-esteem XD I'm jk haha. I'm going to be honest here.

This is definitely not my best work. And I'm really sorry about that. :/ I'm just so busy now, school and life is ganging up on me and kicking my ass haha. I wrote more than half of this in a span of 2 days, because I really didn't want to let you guys down. But I might have to update with a longer period in between if I really have to. I don't want to, and I'm going to try my best not to. But quality of quantity guys. Anyways, enough of my awkward apologizing. I'm sorry if this is kinda shitty, I was rushing to finish it. Hope it's bearable~

Disclaimer: All rights remain. Also, credit to Sabrina Carpenter for which this chapter's title is based off. She has an excellent song called 'Feels Like Loneliness.' :P

It feels like I was being suffocated, sitting there in that chair. I try to focus on the little things, like how the chair rocks unevenly every time I put my weight on the right leg. But when she comes out of the kitchen, her eyes are just crazy as ever, the look on her face as unstable as it was the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that.

I shouldn't fear her, not anymore. I am growing now, I will be bigger than this ever could be. But I can't help but be afraid of something. Maybe it's simply the way she looks at me.

The way she looks at me, my mother, I don't even know how to begin explaining it. It's that look of terror and horror, that mixture of fear and sadness, so hollow. I don't know what to do, what to say to make that look vanish off her face. It was as if she was trying to picture me as someone she didn't know, someone that didn't exist. Maybe that's what she wanted, maybe she wished I didn't exist.

I wouldn't blame her.

She puts the same chipped plate in front of me, and I can't help but cringe. I want to tell her no, so I try. I try telling her, I'm not hungry, I just ate, but she insists, and with each reminder, her tone changes, growing more and more dangerous. She still treats me like I'm five.

I'm not stupid. I'm not five. My innocence was stripped away much too early, I know that. I don't need pity, I don't want, but I know I'm no child.

"Mom," I try, trying to push her hand away, as she places the same glass in front of me, filled with the red, sticky liquid. I feel sick just looking at it, but she looks hurt when I act this way. As if by rejecting the same old burnt cookies and sickeningly sweet beverage I am personally offending her. "Mom," I repeat, sighing a little, and trying to reason with her. But there is no reasoning with the mentally unstable.

She starts to cry.

I feel like a terrible son… at first. I feel like a terrible human… at first. And then I realize why should I care? Why should I even care, all she does is frighten me even if I'd never admit it? I am pulled out of my thoughts with the chaotic commotion of large crashes. My blue eyes trail to the wooden, old, creaky staircase on my left.

"Eat, please," she begs, sobbing wildly like a lunatic. I want to sob for her to stop. Stop. Stop, woman you're driving me nuts, please.

"You're my little, my little boy," she pleads. I'm not her little boy. I stopped being her little boy, her little ray of sunshine the day they turned me like this. They turned me like this. So indifferent, so uncaring, so stony, so much like the people I don't want to become. I am too crazy like her, I am too unable to touch like him. I am them, I was always destined to become like them, I will always be them. Sure enough, my father descends the staircase, his typical cold, indifferent expression worn on his face. What now? What more drama must he stir up now, of all times?

He opens his mouth and speaks, but I swear all I can hear is white noise. His words go in one ear, out the other. My mother's sobbing intensifies, and yet she looks relieved, and it makes me sick. It makes me physically and emotionally sick.

"I'm leaving," he had said. "I'm leaving. You're a crazy old bat!" he turns his finger on my mother, and I don't even say anything. I don't know if it's because I'm shocked or because I don't care anymore. I think… I don't think I want to know the answer.

"And you!" he whirls on me, his luggage spinning behind him. I swear I see pure evil in his eyes.

And all I can think of are the times he didn't pick me up from school, and I had to wait, a small little 5 five year old, in a waiting room, adults and teachers desperately dialing his number, but to no avail. He never picked up. He never had time for me, he was at work.

And all I can think of are the times he glared at me, his face slowly turning red and I knew, I know, that if this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears. I absentmindedly remember wondering if you could fry an egg on how hot his face was. I can only remember the way he clenched his fist, as he does now, whenever he talks to me. I am his embarrassment, his biggest regret, probably the reason my parents' relationship is coming undone once and for all, and he would kill me. I know he would, I can see it on his face when he digs his fingernails into his fleshy palm.

Don't hit him, don't hit him, he'll probably cry and run to the police, that little bastard, don't you dare.

"You're not my son," he tells me as he always has, as he recklessly shoves papers and food off the table. The cookies land on the ground, spilling crumbs everywhere, but they do not break from the charcoal black edges and bottoms. The red liquid splashes everywhere and I know there is no way to clean it up, we will have to throw out that rug. The plate shatters into a million pieces, but still, I think my heart breaks into more. "You're not my son, you're not my son, you're not my son

But plates can be replaced.

And when he walks out that door, slamming it shut forcefully after him, and when my mother sobs over a man she planned to leave for reasons I do not think I will ever understand, I know then as I have always known deep down.

I never was.

It was March and Annabeth could not be more anxious for the cold, nipping weather to calm down. March goes in like a lion and out like a lamb. Annabeth wasn't too sure about that statement. Sure, any intelligent person (or even slightly below average human being) knew that lions were dangerous predators that camouflage with the tall, golden grass. They were deadly, especially the females that did all the hunting. But Annabeth was pretty sure she'd met a few aggressive sheep in her lifetime.

She still remembered that day at the petting zoo. In first grade, her class went on a field trip to the farm, and despite the warnings the caretakers gave, one small, particularly chubby, round little boy with red cheeks and brown stringy hair, decided that getting a little closer to the smelly sheep would be wise, plus most importantly fun.

However, his short-lived fun had come to a painful and abrupt end when a sheep he had gotten particularly rough with decided to retaliate by nipping his finger. The boy, Bobby (though sharing the same name as one of her little brothers, Annabeth honestly thought her brothers were smarter, even if she was a bit partial or biased), had ended up sobbing for a good hour or two after the incident. His mother ended up picking him up from school and he probably, most-likely cried the entire car ride home, being the baby he had been.

Annabeth wasn't quite sure why she was contemplating the incident with Bobby from her childhood while she patiently waited for her papers to print, but it was an amusing thought nonetheless. She still remembered the sneer on her face as he glared at her, before being ushered away. The blonde had, after all, advised him not to disobey rules and the directions ahead of time, but Bobby had chosen to disregard her young wise words. Served him right for being an undisciplined idiot, at least, in her opinion.

Annabeth sighed at the printer in front of her; it wasn't that the printer was incompetent. In fact, it was one of the latest models, but Athena was having her complete so much damn work, she could feel the remnants, the bare crumbs of her sanity slipping out of her fingertips. All she was printing was papers she'd have to read and sign, etc. Her eyes dimmed as she looked at the page count on the green, light-up touchscreen.

Before she knew it, she realized she'd been hogging the machine for far too long when another one of her client's actually came along and spot the long-lost light in her eyes.

"Ms. Chase?" he inquired. He had dark brown hair that curled around his ears and pale, baby blue eyes. Annabeth couldn't help but compare him to Percy's dashing good looks, with his raven black hair and entrancing sea green eyes. Annabeth also couldn't help but notice his term for her. Why did everyone refer to her as 'Ms. Chase'? None of the other managers received the same treatment from any one of their clients.

It wasn't fair, it simply wasn't. And yeah, of course, life's not fair, and the world doesn't owe you a cent. Yeah Annabeth fucking knew that already, but she still hated it.

Realizing she'd been asked a question, Annabeth's head quickly snapped up to pay attention. "Andrew?" she peered at the slightly-taller-than-Percy young man. Lots of women preferred taller guys, but Annabeth couldn't help but subconsciously defend the thought. Her head fit on Percy's chest a whole lot better because their sizes were proportionate.

And then she berated herself for the thought, of course. Because no, she's not his fucking girlfriend and no, they aren't in a relationship nor will they ever be. They aren't even fuck buddies, not really, because she can't even talk to him these days and neither can he to her.

Andrew cocked his head at her slightly. "Hey," he said with an easygoing, charming smile. One that gave Annabeth a cold pit in her stomach because it's one she's seen all too many times. The feeling of dread washed over her before she could even register it.

"Hello," she nodded at him as politely as she could, and then turned back to the printer to signify that their conversation was over. Her black heel tapped against the ground nervously.

"So, what's up?" Andrew asked, leaning casually against the side of the printer. He was the bass player of one of the bands Annabeth managed. Annabeth wasn't sure if he couldn't take a hint, was making her uncomfortable like this on purpose, or if the high volume at which his band played and practiced their music was finally getting to him, but she stared at him with a blank expression. How much more stupid could this boy be?

"Just waiting for a couple things to print," Annabeth said sharply, hoping he would understand this conversation was over. It's not that Annabeth didn't like her other clients; that wasn't true at all. Some, like Andrew, just put her on edge, that's all.

He nodded in understanding. "Your hair looks nice today," Andrew told her, and Annabeth just stared at him. This was how she wore her hair every damn day.

"Thank you," she said stiffly, not oblivious to his blatant flirting, but choosing to ignore it, at least for the time being.

"Hey, I was wondering," he began, and Annabeth cringed. Too invested in the terrible direction where this was headed, she didn't seem to notice another figure saunder up behind her. "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner tonight with the band?" He didn't even appear hopeful, more smug with a lazy, arrogant smile that Annabeth would've slapped off his face by now had Athena not been her boss. He looked like he knew Annabeth was going to say yes, he looked at her like she was already his girlfriend.

Annabeth rolled her eyes as he continued, when she didn't say anything. "Me and the band are meeting at that little place near Dave's Comic Book store. It's gonna be fun, you should come."

The band and I, she wanted to scream. Use proper grammar, you nitwit. Annabeth opened her mouth to decline as politely as she could, whilst most-likely envisioning how it would feel to have her hands wrapped around his pale neck, but the unnoticed young man behind her beat her to it.

"Take a hint dude, she's not interested." His voice was low and a little rough around the edges, so familiar…

Annabeth whirled around to face the person who had successfully snuck up behind her without her noticing. And then she felt queasy. Standing there between that rude, disrespectful upstart, Andrew, and Perseus Jackson. She didn't think she'd ever seen him like this before. He looked overprotective… and almost… was that… jealous?

"Jackson," Annabeth greeted stiffly, but his sea green eyes did not move off Andrew's. As much as she hadn't wanted to have that dinner with Andrew, of course not, she couldn't help but seethe at Percy as she stood there. She didn't need him to stand up for her, and she certainly didn't need him to come here, act jealous like some sort of controlling boyfriend. It wasn't cute. He was an adult, and as much as any girl said, Annabeth did not find jealousy an attractive color.

"I'll talk to you later," she told the raven-haired boy, her tone reflecting her annoyance as clear as day. "I need to finish up some business with my other client, you know Andrew," Annabeth gestured to the brunet. Andrew offered a smug grin in return, and Annabeth swore she fucking saw the fire light up in Percy's eyes.

"Hey, Andrew, can you excuse me one minute? I'll come find you later," Annabeth promised, though she had no intention of doing anything of the sort. "I need to have a little talk with Mr. Jackson here," she requested sweetly, smothering down her infuriation at both of them. Andrew just gave her a little bob of his head and then sauntered away. In a split second, Annabeth whirled on Percy, and it felt like electricity crackled between their eyes like in children's anime cartoons, before there was a giant smackdown. They glared at each other, for lack of better term, the temperature of the room seeming to rise with every second that passed.

"My office, now," the blonde demanded, and if Percy hadn't been so angry himself, shivers would have gone down his spine.

Once in the office, all hell broke loose, starting with a loud, violent slam of her office door behind the both of them.

Annabeth whipped around to face him and glared heatedly, pursing her lips angrily. "I can't believe you!" she exploded with as much fervor as she could muster. Annabeth's wrath was not unlike Athena's, making her a very intimidating woman indeed. "What the fuck, what the actual fucking hell was that!" she screamed, getting all up in his face. But Percy didn't seem to back down.

"Why the actual hell are you acting like some sort of clingy, jealous boyfriend?!" Annabeth's arms waved around everywhere, in big, terrifying motions. But she never slapped him. There was no way she ever could, no matter how angry she got at him. Not after all she knew…

"Do you think that's cute? Because newsflash Jackson, it's not cute nor is it endearing! You don't fucking speak for me, ever. You hear me? Ever! And you're not allowed to get jealous! You're not my fucking boyfriend, don't you get it? You're not!" She carded her hands and fingers through her hair, messing it up more than it already had been. "And you've been ignoring me all this time! You wouldn't even speak to me; you don't get to pretend that you actually care now!" Her words bit deep under Percy's skin, and at the last comment, he flinched.

He didn't even say anything, just let her yell and yell, but his internal anger did not deflate. All he could focus on was how much, just how much he wanted to hurt Andrew in that moment. How much he still wanted to hurt Andrew. And that internal violence, it fucking scared him. Percy wasn't a particularly fight-picking guy. Sure, he would defend his own honor if need be, but for the most part, he was cool and collected. But he had just lost his temper when he saw Andrew acting like he owned Annabeth, nobody owned Annabeth. And he knew she could defend herself, but god he couldn't help himself.

And the internal violence, it terrified him to no end. But he didn't seem to be able to calm down. Plus with Annabeth screaming at him like there was no tomorrow, his temper only heightened. "That's enough, Chase, please," he said, his voice strained. But she only glared harder and yelled louder. It had been a mistake or something. To him, it meant nothing. Their one night stand, whatever, it all meant nothing anymore. Fuck him, fuck him so much.

"Why can't you just-"

"Annabeth, I said enough!" Percy exclaimed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

Annabeth froze, a notion anyone would have thought impossible to accomplish. But Percy never yelled. Percy was smug and cocky, arrogant and snarky, but he never yelled, ever. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Annabeth was seemingly an unstoppable force her entire life until now. Her eyes widened, tinted by a resemblance of fucking fear, and she instinctively took a step back, back away from him. Percy froze too, frozen in guilt and horror, and fear. So much fear. A cold sweat ran down his back when he realized why he felt so guilty to feel angry. He felt like Gabe. An unwelcome shiver enveloped him.

"I-I-," he stepped away from her as well, afraid to come too close, afraid to have her here in his presence, afraid to touch her. He backed away slowly, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I have to go." And with those simple words, he spun on his heels leaving Annabeth there, and practically ran away. Annabeth watched his back disappear out of sight, still frozen with her eyes wide. It felt like an unofficial break, when he turned and left her there, softly shutting the door behind him.

She swallowed thickly, feeling sick. It hurt, it hurt so bad. She hurt, he hurt. She was full with her internal affliction. It just all felt so… lonely. Then she turned and walked the other way.

Love feels like loneliness sometimes.

"You guys are going to make me fat," Annabeth looked at Calypso and Piper.

She stared at the loaded ice cream bowl in front of her. They decided to split it. After calling Annabeth once work was over, Piper had managed to discover her friend was in a bit of bad mood. Unfortunately for the blonde, Calypso and Piper were master cheer-uppers. After hauling Annabeth's sorry ass out of her apartment, despite her complaining and disagreeable personality, they'd managed to get her to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a t shirt. (Read: forced.)

Piper had pretty much forced the blonde to change by withholding her laptop from her until she changed. Desperate, the blonde had succumbed to her best friend's request. Calypso had simply watched the whole thing in amusement.

Now they sat in a booth, practically crushing the blonde in between them, sharing the cold treat despite the cool weather outside. Calypso started talking about her trip for the wedding she'd attended, gushing about the lovely dress, the flawless bride, and even if she was talking about weddings and commitment (something Annabeth wasn't too good with), Callie's enthusiasm was contagious.

A tiny smile graced Annabeth's features as Calypso talked, her delicate hands and wrists waving around crazily. At one point her hair even whipped around and hit Annabeth in the face, causing the three of them to erupt in giggles.

It felt like old times, it really did. Something for which Annabeth was very grateful for. It felt like she was back in college, surrounded by the bubbly chatter of her best friends. Yet there was still feeling of dread hanging over her. She just couldn't get his face out of her mind, that look on his face…

It was so unlike him. He had looked at her with a demonic look passing over his face, like something had possessed him. And the way he'd looked at Andrew was even worse. Annabeth contemplated it all, the scenario of their falling out replaying tauntingly in her mind, as she picked at the ice cream in front of her. She had no doubt, had she not been there, he would have decked Andrew right then and there. But… but he wasn't violent. He only fought when he had to. The only time Annabeth had ever seen him throw a punch was when Luke had been… invading her.

He was sarcastic, yet sweet, he was an enigma. He was selfish, but generous, cruel, yet kind, sarcastic and indifferent, but gentle and caring.

But Annabeth didn't know who this new person was, she didn't recognize him. Not when he carried such animalistic traits. She felt different about him, after seeing whatever the hell had happened back there in her office. She wasn't scared per se, no Annabeth Chase was never scared, she refused. But she was most certainly cautious.

"Annabeth?" the kind brunette's voice pulled her out of her daydreams (or daymares). Her head snapped up, looking up at Piper's frowning, concerned face. On her right, Calypso's forehead was scrunched up, equally worried.

"Huh?" Annabeth said, peeling her eyes away from the slowly melting ice cream to meet kaleidoscope and almond eyes.

"You seem kind of spacey, Beth, wanna talk about it?" Calypso requested sweetly, not so subtly catching Piper's gaze in a worried glance.

Letting the words sink in for a moment, Annabeth slowly shook her head no. "I'm fine, guys," she said, as convincingly as she could. "I was just lost in thought, like usual. You know me." She gave them both a look to drop it, and so they did.

"What are you guys doing this weekend?" the blonde piped up, attempting to change the conversation and take the heat off her. Piper looked at Calypso, shrugged, and then turned her attention back to the stressed, yet brilliant young woman squished in between them.

"Had nothing planned," Piper told her, Calypso just nodding in agreement.

"Did you have something in mind?" Calypso asked kindly. Annabeth nodded slowly.

It was about time, or so she thought, that she took the wheel in this friendship. They were always so good to her and Annabeth couldn't help but feel inadequate and rotten inside. She loved them both and they should hang out because Annabeth initiated and it and not just because someone was having a rough time. "What do you think of Saturday?"

A slow ensemble of simultaneous nods spread across the booth. "Perfect," a grin stretched across Annabeth's face, and for once it didn't feel fake. "My apartment, Saturday," she told them both. "Now," she turned her attention to the obviously more important thing. "We better eat this stuff before it turns to soup," she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Piper returned her smile. It was going to be okay, she knew, she knew that's what Annabeth was saying. They could solve one problem at a time, they would be okay. And maybe it was just starting with the small things like a bowl ice cream, but it was something regardless.

It'll be okay, her now soft grey eyes seemed to say. And once the ice cream was over, filling them up with much more sugar than they probably should have consumed they sat there in silence, just the three of them. Just like old times.

"I love you guys," Annabeth said suddenly, catching both Calypso and Piper off guard. Annabeth was never one to declare her emotions as easily as she just did, even if she felt them. She was just so accustomed to concealing the way she felt, breathed, thought.

Nobody said anything after that either, just letting the sentiment ring truthfully, carried into the comfortable silence. I love you guys, she'd said, and made it simple like that. And maybe someone small would ask really? And maybe Annabeth would have cringed if she hadn't been as at peace as she was. But it felt, just for once.

To allow the truth to do its job.

Malcolm has been and always will be one of Annabeth's favorite people in the entire world. He feels like a real older brother, one she always wanted, and never got. Instead, she was shouldered with the responsibility of carrying the burden of being the oldest one. She'd never wanted that. And maybe Malcolm wasn't really her brother, at least not by blood. But to her, it was good enough, he was more than enough.

They walked side by side, choosing the begin their weekend with a little pleasant company. As they walked closely, Annabeth examined him out of the corner of her eye, as subtle as she could. She would probably die from mortification and his teasing if he caught her. Annabeth would not allow that to happen; she clutched her pride so close to her chest. In fact, it was probably one of the things that took up the most amount of space in her heart, though it wasn't like she was exactly proud of that fact.

She carefully noticed how he walked, his little mannerisms. His shoulders were always slightly hunched, and he had not quite poor posture, but not the best either. It was so unlike her own, with her chin always tilted slightly up, her torso square and her chest puffed out slightly in a haughty kind of pride. His square hands, soft and warm, were always stuffed in his trouser pockets. His steel grey eyes, not unlike her own, were always focused on the ground when he walked. Quietly observing his behavior, Annabeth couldn't help but admire him. And compare him, a bad habit of hers. But this wasn't like Andrew and Percy. As much as people suspected and created rumors, their relationship was purely platonic.

Still, she couldn't help but notice how Percy also slouched, but unlike Malcolm. Percy had more of a swagger, than a shy demeanor. Percy never stuffed his hands in his pockets, proudly displaying his guitar-calloused fingers. Percy, like Malcolm, always looked you in the eye, but whereas Malcolm's was a soft, understanding gaze, Percy's made you squirm. Percy's made your heart start racing, even if you didn't know him, even if you weren't attracted to him. He just had that intense sort of vibe, aura constantly radiating off him.

While Percy always had a casual appearance, Malcolm always looked sharp, decked out entirely in a freshly pressed suit and a plain, perfect tie for each day. Annabeth really had to commend him for his dedication. His hair was always perfectly gelled down, the clean strokes where he ran his comb through still visible. But even when Percy dressed up in a suit, his tie was loose a few hours in, his hair perfectly bedhead, a crooked smirk adorning his face, his eyes bright, too bright. Malcolm, though kind of shy, walked like he was sure of himself, but Percy. Lord, he was going to be the death of her, when he suavely spun around, you knew he knew he had no damn idea what he was doing, and lived for it.

Snapping her head out of it, Annabeth turned back to Malcolm, trying to keep Percy out of her brain. Just the thought of him, the image of him in her mind pained her more than it should've. And she knew, Annabeth berated herself, she knew she should have been more careful with him. She should have known she can't trust boys with pretty eyes and wicked smiles. The simple thought of him knocked all the air out of her chest, winding her.

"Beth?" Malcolm's voice cut through her head, silencing Percy's entrancing whispers and his mesmerizing green eyes. "You okay?" he had stopped walking, observing Annabeth with his head tilted slightly to the left.

Catching her breath, and her cheeks slightly pink from both embarrassment and guilt over how it had all gone down, she nodded slightly at him, nodding at him and pasting a smile on her face. "Fine," she said breathily. "Now hurry up or we're going to make it to Central Park tomorrow," she snorted, and a smile crossed across Malcolm's face, despite her snippy tone. He was just glad to have Annabeth back as she normally was. She'd been freaking him out a little with the sudden shortness of breath. At first he figured a spider of some shit was crawling on him (he'd noticed her staring at him, and just brushed it off, because he knew Annabeth like the back of his hand. She was curious and intelligent). Not to mention, he knew she was deathly afraid of those eight-eyed beings, so he honestly wouldn't be surprised if she quit breathing and passed out after seeing one.

Pointing her chin up pridefully and brushing off her painful memories, the blonde elbowed in front of him teasingly, and led the way, her heels clicking against the pavement with such defiance, Malcolm couldn't help but chortle under his breath before following after her dutifully.

Annabeth ordered smoothies from her favorite smoothie store, their first destination, with such authority Malcolm was weirdly proud. It wasn't like he'd never been like this, she often and usually was, but sometimes it just hit him in waves. Just how much he loved her, just how proud of her he was, just how much he wished he could shield the entire world from her, protecting her even though he damn well knew she didn't need anyone's protection. Annabeth could kill anyone with her fucking glare, he knew. He'd been on the wrong side of that pointed look far too many times. Still he smothered down a big brother smile as she ordered for him too, knowing exactly what he liked by heart.

"Now don't spill," she teased, handing him his orange and pineapple smoothie, stuffing a napkin in his left hand and as well. A smirk adorned her face, the lilt in her voice clear as day. He just rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"Yes mommy," he teased back, causing her to snort in the least ladylike way possible. Only that made him love her even more, making his heart feel full to see her so happy. Sipping from her own strawberry and peach smoothie, she ushered him out the glass doors.

"To Central Park," she announced with a tone of finality.

He followed her to the park too, but she let him catch up, strolling easily along her side. Taking her usual spot on the right side of the chipped green bench, she stared out at the greenery, watching the children play in peace. Malcolm pecked the top of her head and let her slump against his warm, soft figure.

Percy never kissed the top of her head, they just weren't like that. And it of course, once again, it would always feel different with Malcolm. Malcolm was like her big brother and she loved him irrationally and for forever. It is so easy with Malcolm, it always is. For that, Annabeth is once again irrationally relieved. She knows, she fucking knows she's difficult, so it is refreshing to spend time with Malcolm.

Malcolm who gets her. Malcolm who gave her a popsicle and put a bandaid over her scraped knee when she fell off her bike back when she was 7. Malcolm who read her books even before she could. Malcolm who brought her chicken noodle soup when she caught the flu at age 10 because he knows her and he knows her family, and he knew Athena wouldn't have even cared or noticed had Annabeth walked into the house with a shattered leg and a bullet wound in her chest. Malcolm who dried her tears when her mother divorced her father and he moved back to San Francisco, taking her brothers Bobby and Matthew with him. Malcolm who had said nothing when Jennifer London called her a whore in 3rd grade and Annabeth had laughed in her face, knowing full well that Annabeth was capable of defending herself and that the blonde was never one to take something to heart from mere strangers. Malcolm who was always there, without fail, to pick her up when she hit the ground. Malcolm who only refrained from flying halfway across the country when she'd ended up in the hospital from overdose because Annabeth would've killed him if he flew all the way, wasting money, and giving up his opportunity in Luxembourg (he had been out of town for business) just to check on her.

So when Malcolm asked about Percy because of course he fucking knew what everything was about, he knew her better than she knew herself, she told him everything. And of course he knew exactly what to say, wrapping his arm around her shoulder comfortingly, as she spilled her guts, the both of them relishing in the peaceful rustle of trees and the gleeful cheer of frolicking children. Of course he knew exactly what she felt, but he wanted her to understand her own emotions too. Of course he didn't prod or push, because he didn't fucking have to. Annabeth would give him anything, tell him anything. He was the one thing she loved more than anything, even beating out her best of friends, just barely. She would lay down her life for him without any hesitation, she would tell him all her secrets, she would take the blame for his mistakes, there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep him by her side forever.

Love hurts, but it heals too.

A/N: Soooo what do you guys think? What did you like, what didn't you? Feel free to leave me a review, they're the greatest things ever. :)

P.S. I don't know if it's too early for you guys to be able to tell who's narrating the scenes in italics at the beginning of every chapter (it's kind of hard for me to gage your knowledge when I already know everything that's happening lol). I've dropped some bigger clues this chapter, so if you have any guesses (I obviously won't confirm nor deny any guesses), go ahead and let me know in the reviews. I'm curious as to see if anyone's figured it out yet! :D

Cheerra12: Because I don't believe in perfect people, so how could I ever believe in perfect relationships? :)

Chlo Bingham: I don't have Percabeth in every chapter haha. Though they're the main ship of the story, not everything revolves around them lol. Omg dude I knowwwwwww ugh haha. I'm so frustrated with myself XD because literally the first thing I did was figure out how many weeks it would be before that shit started picking up speed. However, I managed to write three scenes instead of two in this chapter, so if I can keep this up, it will definitely be much faster! :D And yep, my updates are every other work. :)

Mitsuha Miyamizi: Thank you so much! I've been trying so hard to stray away from a typical cliche, and I feared I just kept getting closer and closer to it. If you're referring to the fact that I never wrote Percy give the phone to her (because I'm pretty sure I wrote Calypso picking it up), I think I cut that scene out simply because it wasn't working out how I wanted it to, so I decided to just let you all assume that he gave it back, probably got chastised by Annabeth, and that was about it. But I can see how that can be confusing; my apologies! Hmm is the avoidance confusing? Pretty much, in short, Percy's avoiding Annabeth because Thalia and Nico warned him to stay away from someone like her, and he's just doing his best. I might try and work some more details about that in, however, if you had some confusion! My apologies, once again. :) Haha, it's quite alright even if you were 12. I've gotten PMs from pretty young readers before, but I love them all the same. :)

aaquater: Well you might be in luck! I tried so hard to get 3 scenes released this time and speed it up but I got super stressed out and overwhelmed, so I'm fairly certain I won't be able to do that everytime. I actually did not know of that song, but I checked it out after seeing your review and I actually think you're right! Thanks for showing me some new music~ :)

Anyways, until next time. Thank you all so much for the reviews! You guys flatter me haha *fans face* XD Bye guys, and for those of you in school like me, hope it's going well. Or as well as it really go, I suppose~