A/N: IMPORTANT: Hey y'all, I'm planning of starting a new story after this story is finished. And even though this story still has some ways to go, I wanted your opinions so I can work on it at the same time as this, hopefully having the first few chapters ready to post quickly as soon as this story is completed. I'm planning of writing a story about Percabeth that is loosely based off a few ideas from the Red Queen series, so I put a poll up on my profile and I'd really appreciate it if you'd take a minute to go and answer both of the questions on the poll. Thank you!

NOT IMPORTANT lol: I'm like 99.9% sure I have a death wish. I wrote like 2 sentences after an hour one night. Then I didn't write for weeks. And then I came back, deleted the two sentences, and wrote this whole thing in one fucking night. And also didn't study for finals but whatevs lmao, I always wing that shit. No, I'm not crazy; my mother had me tested. :P (Big Bang Theory for da win).

Disclaimer: All rights remain. I also compare mystery dude's mind to a mansion, and that's a reference to NF's Mansion song.

She leaves.

And she does not hesitate like my mother had.

Even after all this time, I still remember her shockingly blue eyes not unlike my own that always seemed to pierce into my very soul, but softened when I stood close to her. I remember her choppy black hair, so soft between my fingers, contrasting wildly against her pale skin. I still sat around and reminisced, musing over the few freckles peppered over the bridge of her nose, the way her pink lips turned down in a scowl/resting bitch face. I still recall her always cocked, one lamp black eyebrow over the other, never accepting anyone's bullshit. She was never one to bury what she really thought. Sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes a curse like all things in life are.

I still remember the way she smiled, always hiding it by looking the other way. But a muscle in her cheek always twitched, her lips fighting her emotions until she finally relented, letting loose a childish laugh. I haven't heard that laugh since I took it away. And then I haven't seen that smile since she'd vanished, taking it with her.

She had luggage of her own, I knew, she could not bear to carry my weights as well. But my own past only got heavier and heavier. Funny how my biggest fears became my reality. I am reminded of a father I never had, and though I have tried, I cannot stuff a girl into a father-shaped void.

Her back disappearing from the door, her eyes haunting my thoughts, she mirrored my father, gone like the wind. And so did I; my father was cruel, a man overridden with whatever drug consumed his mind. I hated that I was becoming a spitting image of him. I hated that my mother never chose to leave. She should have, she was too beautiful for my father's pain. After all, my own blue-eyed girl hadn't hesitated once I'd turned into the man I promised I'd never become.

But I should've known that nothing is permanent. I cannot stuff her into any defined space; she has always been to wild, and I love that about her. Love, never loved. I will never stop loving her, I know this more than anything else in the world. I promised, I promised I would be different, yet here I am. My prey may have changed to a girl with golden curls, but the result was the same.

I remember standing there at the mere age of five, watching my father's hand turn on the one he promised he'd loved. I had learned right then and there that his promises meant nothing. But I would be different, I was determined to keep my word. And now, all grown, I'd broken it more times than I could possibly imagine to count. I'd turned his own hand, against the girl I'd loved, I'd turned into a monster.

I remember standing there at the mere age of seven, watching my father walk out that door, still addicted to whatever was more important than my mother. I remember my mother going crazy, her eyes spinning, searching for a boy, seeing her husband in her son. I swore to her so many times, I'd never become like that. But here I was and everyone was gone. My father was long gone and dead. Even if he were alive, I wouldn't want him anyway. My mother was certifiably insane, so I avoided her at all costs. I love her dearly, but I was afraid she would see him, that shell of a man, the man I called my father in my own eyes. And if she flinched away, horrified by who I'd become, I didn't think I'd be able to stand it.

I want to scream from the unfairness of it all. He used to put me in a corner, simply to see the fear in my ears, so he could relish in my pain. I seethe silently to myself, the stun slowly wearing off, the pain numbing my senses at the emptiness of her presence. Congratulations, I want to spit at him. Congratulations, you'll always have a room in my mind. And the room I'd tried so hard to keep shut, the door had found a way open, the wind blowing in and tragically freezing me all over. My mind is a house I'm trapped in.

And it's lonely inside this mansion.


Will he stop fucking tapping his foot like that?

Annabeth blew a strand of her blonde hair out of her face, thoroughly frustrated with the dark-haired man across the room from her. She didn't mean to allow him the pleasure of infuriating her, but she was naturally short-tempered and easily-irritated.

It should be a sin to have such beautiful eyes.

Despite her frustration, she couldn't help but to admire the way he looked when he thought nobody was watching. If only he hadn't had such a beautiful heart, she might have been able to stay away. Annabeth hadn't spoken to him in over a week, regardless of his apology. It wasn't that she hadn't tried, of fucking course she had. But he was just so stupidly stubborn, like her and she'd be damned if he made her beg.

So yes, she was… sortacreepilystalkinghim. She knew it was wrong and she wasn't actually following him around everywhere like a ditsy little lover, but at the very least, Annabeth felt the desperation in her consuming her every fiber, pleading fucking pleading for an explanation. He'd apologized, she'd accepted it, she'd apologized in her own quiet way without baring her vulnerability to him or verbally destroying her pride, so like the fucking idiot she was, she'd thought it was all over.

The pain, the suffering, the games, the separation that was just so unbearable. How delusional she must have been, how wrong was she.

"Stop it!" the feisty blonde demanded all at once, her annoyance tearing her apart from her own thoughts. Surely Percy's bad habits wasn't stronger than the thoughts of mortal women?

The green-eyed boy, clearly startled, snapped his head up to meet her gaze. He mouthed her name to himself, almost as if he couldn't believe it and Annabeth pondered to herself how it would sound to hear him whisper her name in her ear, of course chiding herself immediately after the sinful thought.

"Honestly!" she huffed, refusing to admit to herself that she was a tsundere little bitch. "You have got to quit your twitching; it's distracting!" she chastised him. Over the years, she had perfected her poker face and unless you were Percy Jackson, that bastard- how dare he know her better than she knew herself, you would not be able to detect the slightest shift in her emotions.

"Chase," he mumbled finally, her name falling from his lips- it was truly unfair how glorious his pink, full lips were- like one would drop the name of a fallen angel, with such remorse.

"Yes, that's me," she impatiently remarked. If he hadn't known better (but he did), Percy would have thought she sounded almost… hurt.

"What's wrong?" he couldn't stop himself from asking. Annabeth seemed taken aback by the inquiry and her face hardened. He mistook it for anger.

"I could ask you the same thing," there was something in her tone, something unreadable to him.

"Excuse me?" Percy's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

Her expression only pinched tighter and she waved her hands around in exasperation and frustration. This was a mistake. It didn't matter how many people were in this room, it felt like the rest of the world was blurred in the background, like in a professional and expensive photograph. This was a mistake; he can probably read me like a book. How stupid can you possibly be?

"You apologized," she said messily. "You gave me strawberries," her words were messy, her voice cracking if only slightly. "So what's wrong? Why won't you talk to me?" Annabeth surprised herself with the directness of her own words. So bold, so unlike her.

Percy sighed, looking upon her with realization. "You want the truth, truly?" he asked, his voice raising at the end of the question almost as if he were afraid she'd say no, that she'd say she was done, that this was over, that he'd missed his chance. Annabeth slowly, yet dutifully nodded. His face was so sad, so exhausted; it tugged at her curiosity.

"Thalia," he said suddenly, praying she would not interrupt until he was finished. She deserved an explanation at the very least. He would not blame Thalia for his issues, he would not blame his friend for looking out for him. "And Nico, they are two of my friends," he amended, adding a wonderful description of them both. "They mean everything to me," Percy could not disguise his surprise at his own declaration. He loved them, he really did.

"Thalia… she's a tough chick, but she's been through a lot of shit." Annabeth sat silently, listening intently, not daring to interrupt as his gaze fixated on the wall behind her, lost in his own memories. "She knows what corporate people are like," he said it so simply but it made Annabeth flinch. It pained him to say to her fucking face, but he would not sugarcoat it nor phrase it any other way. Percy did not apologize for his statement, not that she would have wished him to; the sad expression on his face, the way he softly expressed what he felt, she would not have heard an apology even if he'd begged. Let him continue with his words, let him take her someplace other than the cruel world with his velvety, satin voice. He spoke for some time, never quite meeting her eyes, ashamedly though he had nothing to shame himself for. That was just the way Perseus was, Annabeth supposed.

When he ran out of steam, it was Annabeth's turn to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she began, causing him to look at her for the first time since he'd began talking. "You shouldn't have to choose." He shouldn't be forced to choose between his friends and her, so the thought makes her feel sick. It took all her energy to display her weakness so easily, to apologize and look him in the eye. Annabeth couldn't help but feel like shit and Percy wanted to agree, wanted to say that he could never choose, it was a cruel suggestion in the first place, even if it was implanted by Thalia. He could not, would not lose the lioness in front of him, but he would not dare to leave behind those who had been with him from the beginning. Not his dark, small Nico, not his fiery, angry, but sisterly Thalia. He would not abandon his only family for a girl.

His mind wanted to argue with that logic. She wasn't just another girl. But how well did he truly know her? Percy did not agree with the statement because he knew, he fucking knows that if he agreed now, Annabeth would walk out the door and leave him forever. He would never see her again and the thought of that was almost more unbearable than this entire fucking depressing and awkward conversation.

So he disagreed, "maybe," was all Percy said, albeit softly. Self restraint was a funny thing. He had no control when it came to her, but he was wary. He could not avoid her anymore, but all he wanted to do was hide when her intense grey eyes fell on his. Pride was a funny thing. She had no control when it came to him, but she would never apologize to him, not if her life depended on it. She could not avoid her feelings anymore, but all she wanted to do was hide in her office and ignore confrontation.

They sat in silence for a while, watching people together, watching as beautiful beings fought and loved and hurt and finally healed. Love was the funniest of them all. Funny how it hurt. Funny how it healed. Funny how it wasn't funny at all when the game was between the two of them.


Annabeth's knuckles softly rapped against the wooden door. As she waited for him to open the door, she gently scrunched up her curls, trying to fix her hair. Just at that moment, the maroon-colored door swung open, revealing the taller young man. She fixed her grey eyes on him, soaking in his long, curly lashes, that even women would be jealous of, casting fine shadows on his cheekbones, his tousled dark hair, his piercing sea green eyes that would have any other normal person weak at the knees. She hadn't seen him since two days ago, when he'd openly admitted his friends' opinions of her. It could be awkward, in fact, Annabeth was starting to regret showing up, but a smirk made its way onto his face and she suddenly knew it would be just fine.

"Fixing your hair for me? I'm flattered," Percy raised an eyebrow at her. Annabeth scowled darkly at him and hastily snatched her hand away from her hair.

"The stupid paparazzi outside frizzed it up a little, that's all," she rolled her eyes. At that, Percy frowned as well, gesturing for her to come in and softly shutting the door behind her.

"For god's sake," he muttered to himself. "I was really hoping they wouldn't find me," he groaned and looked to Annabeth, who simply shrugged.

"You're a big deal to the press, of course they're going to lose their pea-sized brains when they discovered you've moved."

This time Percy shrugged," I guess. Did they rustle you up too much?" No, he wasn't concerned about her, that'd be ridiculous, he was just a LITTLE bit worried. The paps could get rough, the flashing cameras enough to blind any normal person and Annabeth too was a big deal, okay? However, Annabeth could read through his facade easily, as if was child's play. She didn't bother to tease him, only nodding and then scanning his apartment in mild amusement.

"You haven't unpacked at all," she teased, looking at the path he'd cleared of messy boxes.

"Seriously? You're the first person to come into the new apartment and the first thing you do is comment on my messy apartment?" Percy folded his arms over his chest, failing to fight a smile because that was such an Annabeth thing to do, he could hardly bear it. The blonde was too occupied, however, caught on the most important words in that sentence: you're the first person to come into the new apartment. She was strangely honored.

"Well," she inspected the apartment, peering out the windows at the gorgeous view of New York City. It had a modern touch to it and she knew it must have been expensive as hell, only reminding her that Percy was a big celebrity. Sometimes she forgot due to his down-to-earth nature, and at that point she was no longer even truly looking at the apartment, something she was positive Percy could tell. There was just little voice hanging over her head, reminding her that Gabe can't hurt him anymore, he's safe now. It was causing the slight awkwardness between them because they just wanted to scream it to each other, but they were afraid to create another vulnerable moment between themselves.

"It's not too bad," Annabeth finished after a silence long enough to make her skin crawl. She began gushing about the structure of the kitchen island and which bar stools would match the design best, and the crown molding, and a million other architectural things because Jesus fucking Christ, she was such a geek for this kind of thing and it was so hard to contain her excitement.

Percy just stared at her once she'd finished. "Nerd," he said and snorted, trying to mask his fondness for her randomly spouted facts. Perhaps she'd like to help him decorate the apartment.

"Idiot," she playfully replied with a hint of hesitance.

"You wound me so," Percy dramatically put his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. Annabeth simply rolled her eyes but he evoked a tiny smile out of her anyways. She silently gazed at his apartment for some more time, the silence enveloping them once more and the awkwardness returning, a younger brother that embarrassed them both and was constantly in their space, lingering when they simply wanted it to be the two of them.

"You down for Thai?" Percy suggested and Annabeth had never before heard anything more intelligible come out of his mouth.

"I love Thai," she agreed and let him take her coat, draping it over the kitchen counter. Fifteen minutes later, a scruffy teenage boy had dropped off takeout, and Percy had tipped him extra for the stupid paparazzi. And twenty minutes later, all awkwardness forgotten, they'd gone back to their usual acquaintanceship, laughing over stupid things, playful insults woven into their conversation.

Annabeth snorted into her glass of white wine, her favorite, before taking a sip. Only Percy wouldn't be able to find a damn spoon so now they were eating rice with plastic forks, but was able to locate wine glasses in his mess of boxes.

"You're so fucking stupid," she laughed adoringly, pursing her lips as she smothered down another grin.

"I'm serious, my face was like- it was tattooed on her bicep!" Percy laughed when she did; she was simply contagious like that. "I didn't know if I should've been flattered or creeped out!" As he recounted his stories of insane fans, Annabeth couldn't decide if his amused, yet horrified expression was more adorable or more hilarious. She supposed it was equally both.

As Annabeth burst out into another fit of giggles, probably from imagining the scenario for the nth time, Percy couldn't help but notice that his hand felt oddly shaky. He tried not to frown, but he'd only had a few sips. Please not now. I just want to be normal. He carefully put the glass down on the counter, his irrational fear nagging in the back of his mind. Drinking made him feel afraid these days, out of control, and he could imagine a world where he accidentally hurt someone, particularly Annabeth. It was irrational, he knew, but that refrain his hand from shaking like he had smoked too many blunts of weed or chugged four cans of an energy drink. Fortunately for him, Annabeth was too slap-happy tired to notice his sudden loss of appetite for the alcohol. Instead, time continued to pass, Annabeth telling tales of her own crazy experiences with idiotic, rich businessmen and women at those stupid parties, and despite not touching the alcohol at all, Percy found himself enjoying himself more than ever, probably even more because his hand had ceased to quiver.

After a few hours and probably too many glasses of wine for Annabeth, she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, gazing at Percy thoughtfully.

Percy would have been lying if he said a tipsy Annabeth wasn't the slightest bit amusing. Sometimes she had blurted out something she probably she shouldn't have, then hastily covered her mouth with her hands and oh my dear lord, Perce, please don't tell anyone I said that or oh fuck, I didn't mean to say that OUT LOUD. He couldn't help but wonder since when she'd been calling him Perce and for how long had she had that shallow dimple on her right cheek, and he wasn't even drunk but he wanted nothing more than to hold her tight to his chest.

Eventually, the blonde was worn out from all the drinking and the talking, and Percy looked so so good, she just wanted to kiss him. Of course, Percy wouldn't let that happen, though in any other situation he would've pushed her up the wall and kissed her until she couldn't even think. It took all of his strength to push her away from him, to stay away from her enticing pink lips. Because she wasn't completely sober and he wouldn't take advantage of her like that, never ever ever.

Instead, Percy guided her to the bed with his hand on the small of her back so she wouldn't trip over any of his boxes. He gave her one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers, tucking her in despite her protests that she should go home, despite her protests that acquaintances didn't do that. He went and cleaned up the kitchen, cleaning both glasses and trashing the plastic, paper, and styrofoam takeout wrappings and utensils. By the time he was standing back in his room, Annabeth was fast asleep, somehow looking better in his clothes than he ever had, at least, in his opinion.

In the non-creepiest way possible, Percy watched her sleep for a minute, before slipping on flannel pants, not bothering with a shirt, and climbing into the bed next to her. He obviously kept his distance, respecting her privacy, letting the experiences of the night wash through his brain. Before he drifted off into yet another endless uneasy sleep, he couldn't help but glance at Annabeth once more because waking up to her wild blonde curls and falling asleep to her sweet painted smile wasn't as bad as he might've once thought.

Percy remembered back to the beginning when Thalia and Nico had warned him, and he knew it was almost funny, funny how everything he'd told himself to stay away from had suddenly became all he'd ever wanted to fall for.


Beep. Beep. Beep beep. BeEP. BEEP.

The screeching alarm clock went off, speeding up and increasing in volume, neither Percy nor Annabeth making any attempt to shut it off.

"Shut it up, oh my god," Annabeth groaned out finally, flipping over, clearly irritated, her eyes squeezed shut together tightly. She clamped the pillow over her ears, grumbling a few other choice words at the green-eyed boy. It wasn't hard to see that Annabeth wasn't a morning person at all, especially on the weekends.

Despite the fact that Percy already had a built-in, body alarm clock, he still kept his prepared to keep him from oversleeping. In comparison to the blonde beauty next to him, he woke early every day, never truly getting a good night's rest anyways (nightmares plagued him every time). Today, however, he hadn't woke up prior to the alarm, Annabeth's presence unknowingly warding the evil thoughts away from his mind. That had truthfully been one of the best nights of sleep he'd had in a while.

Percy cursed at Annabeth's complaining, cracking his bleary eyes open and squinting as the morning sunlight peeking through the windows temporarily caused him to lose sight. Blindly searching his nightstand (and probably making a mess) with his hand, Percy cursed again, sighing in relief when his hand closed around the familiar black alarm clock. He smacked the small round button on top of it, silencing the clock from hell once and for all.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, sitting up properly as his vision adjusted to the light. All of a sudden, Percy nearly toppled over at a spontaneous impact. "What the hell?" he couldn't help but laugh once he realized Annabeth had whacked him with the pillow. He peered over the bed at her scowling in her sleep.

"Shut the fuck up, Jackson," she ordered grumpily. He only laughed harder, incensing her more and earning him a few more whacks to his torso, the last one even nailing him in the fast. "You better have a good reason for waking me up at this ungodly hour of the morning," Annabeth accused, still cozied up in his bed.

Percy snorted. "It's already nine in the morning, Chase." That Annabeth, dramatic as always. He loved it.

"Nine?!" she shoved him, not hard enough for him to fall off the bed, but enough to make him start laughing at her distress once more. "I'm gonna kill you," she muttered softly. His eyes twinkled in amusement and he couldn't help but think she looked adorable in the morning. Her curls, now slightly frizzy, splayed all over the pillow like a golden halo made it hard for him to fear her empty threat. He ran his fingers through her hair almost subconsciously, but he managed to stop himself from kissing her forehead because no, he's not her boyfriend.

"It takes beauty sleep to look this badass every day," Annabeth mumbled under her breath tiredly, and Percy chuckled to himself.

"That you are," he softly whispered to himself. And fuck, because he was in deep and he damn well knew it. "How about some coffee?" he said gently, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he attempted to coax Annabeth out of bed. At the mention of steaming hot coffee, she slowly cracked one gorgeous grey eye open and squinted at him.

"And what else?" he smirked. Annabeth was one hundred percent a child inside and he'd fight anyone who said otherwise. "Eggs?" Percy suggested. She wrinkled her nose, so he took that as a no. "Bagel?" Annabeth appeared thoughtful. "Pancakes?" he tried again. A sweet smile enveloped her face, against her will. "You want pancakes," he decided with a grin, evoking her to open both eyes and look up at him. He stood up and stretched, looking down at her smugly. His hair was sticking up every which way but still he was the best thing she laid eyes on. Annabeth couldn't help but check him out, propping herself up on her elbow. Percy dug around for the kitchen supplies in the millions of cardboard boxes that littered the entire apartment floor.

"You drool in your sleep," she said suddenly, causing him to freeze. He slowly turned to look at her, rolling his eyes and a blue bowl in one hand.

"I do not," Percy retorted as dignified as he could.

"You do," she snickered, tilting her head at him, piled under the blankets. "It's adorable," Annabeth snorted.

"I am not adorable," Percy scoffed. "I am a man, therefore no part of me is cute."

"Sure," the grey-eyed girl teased, a playful lilt in her voice. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and at his heartstrings.

Still he insisted he wasn't an adorable puppy. "I'm not cute, I'm hot," he informed her cockily with his signature smirk dancing across his lips and then it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"In your dreams," she replied sassily as Percy reached for a spatula and a pan.

"Maybe in yours," he said pointedly, an infuriating yet somehow endearing smirk causing her heart to stutter. "Acting like you weren't checking me out two seconds ago," he coughed the last part out to muffle his laugh when Annabeth's cheeks turned bright pink. She could've convinced someone they were painted. "There's new toothbrushes in the box near the nightstand." With that, Percy walked out of the bedroom to brush his teeth and make breakfast, leaving Annabeth to drown in her embarrassment.

"Was not," he heard a shy comment before he walked out, making him shake his head to himself; her and her pride.

He felt giddy, like a young child, something he hadn't felt since well… since his mother had been alive. It kind of slapped him upside the head, how excited he felt. Percy was spinning around the kitchen, humming to himself as he prepared Sally's pancake recipe. Even pancakes weren't something he'd had in at least a few years. They reminded him of the good times and some days he just couldn't eat them without feeling that horrible empty feeling inside, that alert that his mother hadn't made them, that she wasn't there to ruffle his hair and hold him close.

But eating them with Annabeth, it felt different. It felt noticeably better and maybe it was a naive hopeful thought, but maybe things would get better from here.

After around five minutes, she was minty fresh and starving of course. The scent of pancakes wafted through the air, only heightening her hunger. Padding softly across the hardwood, she curiously peered over his shoulder in search of the coffee maker. Annabeth followed her nose in search of the necessary beverage. Percy poured them two cups of coffee, one completely black just like how he knew Annabeth liked hers and one with some sugar and cream for himself. Well technically, he'd poured them in cerulean bowls, unable to find the mugs.

"Who knew Annabeth Chase's weakness was caffeine?" he mused as he handed her the bowl. Her eyebrows pinched down, but still tired, she couldn't conjure up one of her typical witty retorts. Instead, she darkly glared at him and delivered a classic shut up.

He shut off the stove and sat down at round wooden table across from Annabeth, sipping coffee from his own bowl. "I don't understand how you drink that," Percy admitted, scrunching his nose at her black coffee.

"It's better than a mouthful of sugar," Annabeth gave him a pointed look, glancing down at his sweetener-filled bowl of caffeine because if I'm going to drink it, I might as well enjoy it, Miss Chase. He was ridiculous, this was all ridiculous, she shouldn't even be here. His green eyes locked on hers with a small childish grin and her heart melted. There was no other place she'd rather be.

Percy set two plates of pancakes before the both of them. Annabeth slowly pulled away from her bowl to stare at the breakfast in confusion and slight amusement. When Percy continued to drink his coffee, completely unbothered, she decided to ask.

"Okay, I'll bite," she began, catching Percy's attention. "Why are they blue?" her eyebrows furrowed together and Percy just wanted to kiss her senseless.

"My mom," he said instead, wisely choosing to suffocate her with his devotion some other time. Annabeth looked at him carefully, patiently waiting for him to elaborate. "Gabe was kinda controlling," Percy said softly, thinking before he spoke and immediately Annabeth felt a hot ball of anger roar inside of her. Just the mention of his name infuriated her. What she wouldn't do to give that asshole hell, but deep down, she knew it was Percy's fight, not hers. And no amount of frustration could change that. "My mom, she began to make blue food to quietly contradict Gabe's harsh statements, and it felt like, if blue food could be real, anything was possible," he finished simply. Annabeth was quiet, pondering upon this for a moment, noticing the faraway look he got in his eyes when Percy spoke of his mother. She wished she could've met Sally. Percy seemed so human then and Annabeth couldn't help but note the vulnerability etched across his face.

"Well," she begun, hoping to lighten the mood. "They're pretty," she said with a small smile, Percy slowly reciprocating with a tiny smile of his own. He reached for the bottle of syrup, practically drowning his pancakes in the thick, sugary liquid. Annabeth watched with disdain.

"Seriously?" she shook her head at him. "The syrup probably washed out all your brain cells."

"Hey! I have like two brain cells left," he objected, eyes shining anyways as if she'd complimented him instead of simply calling him an idiot. "And besides, my pancakes can't drown and neither can I."

Annabeth laughed, a musical bubbly sound, as she reached for the syrup bottle herself. "Wow, two whole brain cells," she teased, lightly and delicately drizzling a small bit of syrup on top of the fresh pancakes. "Quite the swimmer, are we?" she inquired at his last statement, picking up on his hint; she was the only one who understood his little remarks like that. Of course, she already knew the answer to that, recalling their little aquarium, dolphin-diving rendezvous. That, however, felt like another lifetime ago. She listened intently as he babbled over the ocean and how much he loved it, ever since he was little and 'Beth listen, this part is so funny. She absentmindedly wondered since when had he begun to call her 'Beth and she pondered over his bright face, thinking to herself that she'd never seen him like this. Not truly.

Annabeth couldn't help but think that this was the real Percy, the boy who made her pancakes and loved his mom, who knew the little things like how she took her coffee or what foods she ate depending on her emotions, who liked to sing and swam like an Olympian, who got this little gold fleck in his sea green eyes when spoke about something he was passionate about, who brought her strawberries as an apology and let her eat in peace, who stood up for her when Andrew came to harass her, who hung out with Thalia and Nico, his closest friends, because he would never let the industry and Hollywood change him.

No matter what anybody said about him, Annabeth wouldn't believe them, because she was convinced this was the real him, not the overly flirty, snippy asshole she'd first met. And maybe his pancakes couldn't drown, but Annabeth was beginning to think that drowning in him was the best mistake she ever made.

A/N: To be fair, I said it would all be mostly Percabeth, not that it would be happy Percabeth. BUT- it did end pretty sweetly in the end, so I should get credit for that. (Lmao y'all can't even trust me; you know dat happiness shit ain't gon' last for long XD)

Anyways, hope you liked that ish. It killed my soul (oh wait, what soul lol) *aHeM* it killed my NONEXISTENT soul to write such happiness at the end, but I managed to write some fluff for all you fangirlz and fanboyz. I hope that satisfied your need for nice Percabeth cuz shit's about to go south real fast.

I mean- whaaaaaat, Percy and Beth are so happy, and then they lived happily ever after. sIKE, y'all thought... This ain't no Disney ish, shit's about to get fun real soon. Not between Percabeth directly, but between a friendship we all know and love, which might affect Percabeth a little bit ;)

intense ukulele: I never wanted either of them to be polite. In fact, I was hoping they both, even if mostly Athena, would be sorta asshole-y. I feel like it suits their personalities. EQ is definitely a big deal for both of them. But your little outburst about Athena was quite amusing and made me smile (even though it might because I'm a hallucinating idiot rn but I digress) so thank you haha. I mean… when you really think about it, we're all slowly dying. I'm just kidding. (Sorta.) I have a dark sense of humor, so my apologies for my delusional rambling; I have ZERO filter right now. :P

aaquater: I did indeed try to connect all three scenes with a theme, so I'm glad you caught that. I actually try to do that often, but usually fail as you can see~ I guess we'll just have to see how our protagonists fight their inner demons. Not all will be able to overcome them and it will be a slow, cumbersome process, but it will be worth it to them all in the end. I have always believed that some of the biggest villains in a story should be internal conflict. No one can hurt you more than yourself, at least, that's always been myexperience with pain. Spare me the mastermind, though their dark personalities are intriguing (let's be real; everyone loves a sexy, crazy antagonist), and show me the deep-seated, psychological trauma. The true scars are not the ones we bare on our skin, but the ones we bury deep inside. (Holy fuck, I've been reading too much poetry lately)

If my author's notes sound like I'm high, ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶a̶m̶ (jk don't do drugz kidz). It's because I'm functioning off adrenaline, those energy drinks that are shit for your health but taste like ambrosia (*cough* RedBull *cough*), it's 5am, and I haven't slept in three days (not including the fact that right now it's 5am, meaning I've pulled yet ANOTHER all nighter. So I guess, technically 4 days.) God, I need help. (I should probably wait until later today to post this, just to make sure not everything I say sounds super bitchy lol)

Please go answer my poll if you haven't yet; I really don't wanna put effort into something if none of you guys are going to enjoy it and I'd rather come up with a new story idea in that case. Bye y'all and Happy (Very, Very Belated) New Year~