im so sorry for not updating
It's weird, you know? Every time he walks into the room, they come. And they don't leave until he does.
The butterflies... they don't stop fluttering around in my chest.
So when he comes up to talk to me, it's no surprise that they're there, waiting to be thrown around.
"Hey, Annabeth," he says. His green eyes are locked onto my grey ones. "Wanna hang out after school today?"
I smile, then giggle. "Sure. What time?"
"We'll leave right after school is over. Wait for me at the flagpole," he answers, smiling.
"Okay," I say, all giddy inside.
Now, you see; I'm never giddy, I never giggle, I never get butterflies. Except with Percy Jackson. Everything changes around him.
We started out hating each other. He was the jerk and I was the know-it-all. Then we learned to live with each other since my best friend Piper and his best friend Jason started dating. Finally, we became friends, and now we hang out pretty often if I do say so myself.
After school, he takes me to the coffee shop downtown in his blue Prius.
We talk for what seems like forever. Honestly, I really could talk to him forever.
"Do you ever get butterflies?" I ask him out of nowhere.
"What?" he replies, pacing a hand through his jet black hair.
"Butterflies," I say. "Do you ever get them?"
He smiles. "Yeah," he says. "I feel them pretty often."
"Me too."
There's an awkward moment of silence where we both blush furiously.
"Do you feel them now?" he asks, hopefulness resonating with his voice.
I have never seen him like this before. He was always so confident and prideful. He never faltered. His head was always held high, and he'd always wear an assertive smirk on his face.
I've never seen this side of him. I like it.
"Yeah," I answer truthfully.
I brace myself for when he says "oh," and "I'm not interested, sorry," but he doesn't. He remains quiet.
Until he says; "Me too."
Now, as a seventeen-year-old, I shouldn't blush when someone confesses their feelings for me. But the butterflies... I can't control them. So I do blush. And I don't hide it.
"You're cute when you blush," he admits.
I smile, placing a loose strand of my honey blonde hair behind my ear.
"And when you smile," he adds.
"Wanna go back to my place?" I ask him. "It'll be much more fun than here."
He laughs. "Sure."
The butterflies won't leave. But that's okay. I like them. And apparently, so does he.
so, this is completely irrelevant, but everyday my mom gives us "general knowledge" questions about anything and everything, and we have to answer as best we can (most of the questions are hard). so my 7-year-old brother always answers first, and the question was: who is the Greek goddess of the rainbow? aND MY BROTHER FRICKING SAYS JESUS LIKE WTFFFF ARE YOU HIGHH?
hope you liked it :)
-k