A/N: This is the censored version of this chapter- if you'd like to read the sexually explicit version it's available on AO3!
Once her nerves had disappeared, Annabeth found herself starving. She hadn't had anything to eat or drink in two full days besides nectar, and her body was craving real, human food. Thankfully, the house had a lot of options to offer, and she and Piper made a small feast for themselves to eat outside. It turned out Piper had been too anxious to eat much herself over the past few days, and was nearly as starving as Annabeth.
She could have sat outside and talked with Piper all day, but neither of them had slept very well the night before (or in Piper's case, the past few nights) and Annabeth could tell that Piper was dangerously close to dozing off in the midmorning sun. In most other circumstances, Annabeth would have let her fall asleep there, but she wanted to give Perseus an update, and something in her was still anxious about leaving Piper alone and exposed outside.
Thankfully, the prospect of a real bed was enough to convince Piper to go inside fairly easily. One very sleepy goodbye hug later, Annabeth found herself opening the door to her room.
Perseus was asleep on the bed. Annabeth felt a little fondness grow in her chest at the sight of him, clearly splayed out in a way that indicated he hadn't meant to fall asleep at all. He hadn't even bothered with the blanket, just laid on top of the whole thing, his head turned slightly into the pillow. Annabeth noted with a hint of amusement that he was drooling again, just a little bit. It was the first thing she'd noticed about him that made him seem human, and she couldn't help but find it endearing again now.
Annabeth knew she should wake him, but she found herself reluctant to, given he looked so peaceful. Instead she carefully laid herself down on her side, her body curled up close to him, but not quite touching.
That close up she could see every detail of his face, and she studied it with careful consideration. There was the scar, now familiar, that he'd gotten only a few days before, still shining thin and white across his cheek. The bruises from Octavian were starting to meld with his skin, a sickly yellow color around the edges, still purpling in the center. But beyond that, there was so much more. Shallow smile lines around his eyes that would surely deepen with time. A stray eyelash, long and dark, just below his eye. The little notch on the bridge of his nose, one you could only see from the side.
He looked normal like this, deceptively so. Or maybe not. Maybe this version of him was just as true as any other. Annabeth felt something warm in her chest at the thought of it, but it wasn't without a little dash of anxiety to follow.
Even if they hadn't died now, there was something impermanent about their time together. The focus on surviving day to day, on finishing the quest and saving the world had given their love a sort of timeless feel, despite the fact that death had threatened to take them at every turn— or maybe because of it. But now reality was settling back in, the promise of a normal life free from at least that breed of danger just on the horizon.
If they had died, maybe they could have spent eternity in Elysium together. They could have been permanent— immortal, in a strange sort of way. But she wanted this life so much more. A life with no small amount of danger and fear, yes, but also a life with a future, with possibilities. They could go anywhere in the world. They could be heroes, wander around and fight monsters, or they could settle down somewhere, pretend to be mortals and be normal. They could be a family— have a family, if they wanted to. They could grow old together, watch each other age and change and live.
When Annabeth had first laid eyes on Perseus, she had thought he was a god. She was only just starting to realize what a tragedy that would have been if it were true.
Absentmindedly, Annabeth reached out to brush the stray eyelash off his face. She could've sworn her touch was feather-light, but he stirred under it anyways— eyes sluggishly blinking open, one hand reaching up to rub his face.
Annabeth pulled her hand back, blowing the offending eyelash away. She hadn't meant to wake him up, but as it was he probably already would've wanted her to. Sure enough, his sleepy expression was already morphing into one of worry.
"How did it go?" he asked, yawning and wiping his mouth with the back of one hand. Annabeth decided not to tease him about the drool, tempting as it was.
"Well," Annabeth said, smiling softly, "Really well."
"Really well?" he asked, a smile starting to form on his lips too. Annabeth's own widened.
"Really well," Annabeth confirmed. She wasn't sure who leaned forward first, or if it was a mutual action, but in the next moments her lips were on his. It was slow, gentle— probably in part because he'd just woken up, but she didn't mind. It felt right.
"Piper likes you now," Annabeth informed him, when they finally broke apart. Perseus's smile grew, she could feel it under her lips as he leaned in to kiss her again, shorter this time.
"Really?" he asked, and Annabeth was inordinately pleased with how happy he sounded about it. He kissed her again, one, two, three short times before she could respond again.
"Really," Annabeth said, breathless.
Something in Annabeth seemed to unravel at the sight of his smile, one last little lump of anxiety dissolving in her chest. Everything was okay— better than okay. They had all survived. Her friends didn't hate her. Perseus loved her, and she loved him. Nothing else seemed to matter beyond those three facts. Her lips found his again, a little more urgently this time.
It was impractical, kissing at the angle they were. Annabeth found herself rolling over, his hands guiding her hips to move on top of him, so she was straddling his waist. He leaned forward, propping himself up on his elbows so she didn't have to lean down so far. It was a pity, really, that that meant he couldn't use his hands, but the control it gave Annabeth in exchange was a little thrilling.
What was also thrilling was the realization that they no longer had to even attempt at subtly, not that they'd been particularly good at it before. Perseus seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because his lips had already dipped to her neck, sucking a small mark there. It felt intoxicatingly good, especially with her fingers tangled in his hair, one hand on the nape of his neck, the other bracing herself against his shoulder.
It did not take long before Annabeth was pulling her clothes off, grateful she'd had the foresight to shut and lock the door on her way in. His were a little more complicated, given she was still pinning him to the bed, but he seemed plenty content to watch her remove her own clothing without so much as making a move towards his own.
"Enjoying the view?" Annabeth teased, pulling one last piece of fabric over her head and tossing it on the floor. He laughed, pushing himself fully upwards, so he was sitting up instead of half lying down.
"You have no idea," he said, leaning in to kiss her again.
That statement was a lie. She might've told him that too, if she'd been willing to break the kiss. If he weren't so damn good at it it might've been worth it too.
As talented as he was, it wasn't quite enough to distract Annabeth from the fact that he still had his clothes on. She pulled at the fabric still covering his chest, and was surprised to find him falter. He broke their kiss, pulling back slightly.
"What?" she asked, frowning. He hesitated, clearly unsure of what to say. Annabeth felt anxiety rise in her stomach, her hands suddenly gripping his clothes a little tighter. He grimaced before speaking, seeming to sense that he had to say something even if he didn't know exactly what.
"It looks worse than it is," Perseus said, which did absolutely nothing to answer her question.
"What do you mean?" Annabeth asked. He winced one more time before answering her question, though not through words. Instead he pulled the fabric of his clothes over his head, revealing his chest— or more specifically, the injuries on it.
Annabeth immediately felt her heart seize. The skin of his chest was scattered with bruises, most yellowing and starting to fade, but a few still a deep angry purple in the center. At first she couldn't even comprehend where they had come from— but then she looked up at his cheek, at the bruise still fading there, and realized it matched.
She'd been right before in thinking that the injuries on his face were just the beginning of what Octavian had done to him while they were separated. She'd been too cowardly to see the ramifications of her hubris before, but they were impossible to ignore now.
"It's not your fault," he said, as if reading her mind. Annabeth swallowed heavily, not able to look away. She knew he was alright, but it was still terrifying to see, especially since this was what it looked like after it had already healed some. He also had to be in no small amount of pain, or at least he had been over the past few days. She felt something twisting in her chest, and was surprised to find anger flaring there.
"I'm going to kill Octavian," Annabeth said, finally tearing her eyes away from his chest to look back up at him. She still shouldered some of the blame, no matter what Perseus said— it was her plan that had gotten them into that mess in the first place, and Octavian's hatred of her that had been taken out on Perseus. But Annabeth still recognized that it hadn't been her that had physically done the damage. That honor belonged to Octavian, and if she ever had the displeasure of seeing him again, she swore to herself that he would face the consequences for it.
"Only if you let me help," Perseus replied, evenly. She couldn't tell if he was being entirely serious or not, but he certainly looked so. They both knew Octavian was protected by Jason's deal, necessary as it had been, but the look in Perseus's eye now made Annabeth doubt either of them would have the restraint necessary to abide by those terms if push came to shove.
Annabeth took a deep breath, then another. She steeled herself before looking down at his chest again.
On second glance, it wasn't so bad. It would heal. He would heal. Still, the reminder of his mortality was frightening, even if just a few minutes ago she'd been thinking about how much she appreciated that very thing. Staring at it in the face made it much more difficult to have that attitude.
It was only another reminder of how close they'd come to losing the other— in an unfathomable, evil, permanent way. It was easy to imagine dying in some far off future, after having lived a full life together. But the truth was they had come far too close to a different ending, one that might not have even ended with them together, dead or no.
And all that made her think of was how Perseus must have felt the past few days, watching her sleep, having no idea if or when she would wake up. She'd scraped up against death in the past few days too, and Perseus had paid the fullest price for that.
"Hey," Perseus said, gently, and Annabeth blinked, realizing suddenly that she'd been staring intently at his chest without saying anything for probably a little too long.
"Sorry," Annabeth said, eyes snapping back up to him, trying to push all thoughts of his injury and mortality and everything from her mind, "I just— sorry."
To her surprise he just smiled, so genuine and bright Annabeth had trouble believing that a grim expression had been there only a minute before.
"Don't be sorry. I love that about you."
"Love what? That I lose focus every other minute?" Annabeth asked, confused. Perseus's smile widened, unperturbed.
"That you're always thinking," he said, "I love that you're too clever to pay attention all the time."
Annabeth felt a blush rising in her cheeks at the compliment, even if she didn't entirely believe that to be true.
"That just makes me sound arrogant," she said, and he laughed, his head falling back slightly.
"It's not your fault you're always three steps ahead," he said.
Personally Annabeth thought that what she had just been thinking about was more like 3 steps backward, and then hopefully a hundred more forward, but she didn't know how to explain that without sounding insane. Instead she just sighed, resting her forehead against his. Her hands had somehow found themselves looped around his neck, securing herself in front of him.
"Sometimes I wish I wouldn't think so much," Annabeth admitted. Times like now she wished she could just shut her brain off and exist in the moment; not be trailed around by existential crises about life and death.
His smile softened, and he leaned forward to kiss her, long and slow.
"I think I can help with that," he said quietly.
Perseus kept good on his promise. Afterwards, he fell back on the bed, and she fell back with him, still breathing heavily. Their legs were still tangled together, neither of them making a move to separate from the other.
Annabeth couldn't find it in herself to speak, but she still wanted to touch him. Their hands found each other at the same time, fingers intertwining in a now practiced and familiar movement. Her whole body still felt airy and light, every muscle relaxed. If she weren't so sweaty she might've fallen asleep right then and there.
"There's a bath, in the other room," Perseus said, quietly, when he'd finally caught his breath, "It's private."
Those were probably the only words that could have convinced her to untangle her limbs from him so easily.
"I love you," she said again. It came out a little more reverent than she'd meant it to, given it was a response to his words. He just laughed.
"You're very easy to please, aren't you?"
She swatted him on the arm for that, but he just laughed it off, taking her hand and pulling her towards the other room. As she sunk into the warm water, she had to stifle a moan almost as filthy as the ones Perseus had elicited from her earlier.
It was easily the most pleasant bath Annabeth had ever experienced, not least because Perseus was there with her. The closest she'd had to bathing in a week was almost drowning in the freezing ocean a few nights previously. Just because her clothes hadn't picked up dirt or sweat, it didn't make her skin immune to it as well. And that was on top of the mess they'd just made.
At first she was almost worried he wouldn't get wet at all, since he always seemed to stay dry when encountered with water. But he explained, as he stepped into the bath next to her, that he could control it, that concentrating either way could make the water affect him or not. He chose to be human as he slipped into the water, shedding his father's gift with surprising ease.
It was all wonderful— right up until Annabeth was faced with the task of washing her hair, and nearly burst into tears for the second time that day. It was, without exaggeration, a complete disaster. She should have left it in the braids Piper had given her a few days back, because it was tangled so badly Annabeth almost wanted to take her knife and slice it all off.
Perseus was the only thing that saved her from doing so. He talked her down, pulled her in front of him so she was sitting in between his legs, and took her hair in his hands, painstakingly untangling each knot one by one.
"You learn a lot of knots for seafaring," he'd said, as he separated a curl from a particularly bad tangle, laying the newly freed strand of hair gently against her shoulder, "This isn't so different."
It seemed entirely different to Annabeth, but he managed to do it anyways. His hands were gentle, but quick and precise. It took a lot of time and a lot of hair oil, but eventually her hair was clean and detangled. He brushed off her blabbering thank-yous, just smiled and kissed her temple. She braided it herself this time, not as intricately as Piper had done days before, but enough to keep it from getting as badly knotted again.
Their fingers and toes were wrinkled by the time they climbed out of the water. Annabeth was half tempted to go back to bed and fall asleep, but despite the tiredness she felt, there was something restless and unsettled in her chest. Perseus felt it too; or at least she thought so. He didn't go back to the bed once they dried off and put on clean clothing anyway. They still had half a day's daylight ahead of them, and it seemed a shame to waste it.
"Let's go to the ocean," he said, and it was the best idea Annabeth had heard all day.
They ran through the halls like children, racing and laughing down the long hill that the house sat upon. With every passing footfall the city shrank in the distance, until it was entirely obscured, only the sea in sight.
It was even more gorgeous up close, somehow. The water was a clear green, the same shade as Perseus's eyes when it caught the sun just right. The water was calm, sparkling, waves rolling against themselves and the white beaches below.
They found a path along the side of the hill, one that led all the way down to the sand where land met water. But they stopped along the edge where the hill became more sheer, maybe fifteen feet above the water.
Annabeth looked over at Perseus, and the fact that he was already looking at her all but confirmed he was thinking the same thing she was. She slipped his hand into his.
He didn't ask her if she trusted him this time, but he didn't have to. He already knew the answer.
All it took was one look, a smile, a nod. And then they were leaping into the waiting ocean below, hand in hand.