AN: Hey y'all! It only took me 12 days to write this? Not fourteen? So… improvement, I guess, technically xD Anyway! Annabeth's POV and I hope y'all enjoy it!
Annabeth's eyes fluttered as a cacophony of sounds rushed through her ear drums. Groaning, she rubbed her temples before rolling over and grabbing her phone to shut off the alarm. But then she remembered she had not set her alarm last night and the noise did not stop when she grabbed her phone. Oh brother. Or rather, in the case of Annabeth Chase, "Oh brother…s."
It was Matthew and Bobby. Of course they were being loud. Why shouldn't they be loud at 7:00 in the morning? That is rhetorical, by the way. Annabeth knew exactly why they were loud. They were boys. They were young boys. And young boys did not understand the concept of a word librarians loved: quiet.
Deciding she would not be able to get back to sleep, the teenage blonde rolled out of her bed and onto her floor. The shock of hitting the albeit carpeted floor was enough to get her heart pumping and she slowly stood up, looking, for all intents and purposes, still close to sleep. That is when the toilet exploded. At least, Annabeth assumed the toilet exploded. She heard the tell-tale sound of shattering vitreous clay and the rush of water. Do not ask why she was used to that sound. That is a story for another day.
Needless to say, that sound for sure awoke the blonde who swung open her door and dashed out of her room. However, in her tiredness, she had failed to realize that perhaps the water had escaped the bathroom. Now she was, without question or doubt, wide awake. Not in the way a child on Christmas is awake, but more in the way a lioness wakes up when she sees hyenas circling her cubs. Annabeth was awake and she was angry.
"MATTHEW AND ROBERT CHASE! WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL HAPPENED HERE?!"
Summoned by their sister's ferocious roar, the twin boys scampered out of the bathroom and, smartly, stared at their soaked feet, not meeting Annabeth's gaze.
Sidebar: Annabeth had a very particular pair of eyes. They were grey. However, before anyone makes the wrong assumptions, they were not grey in the way a black and white film is grey, filled with nostalgia. Nor were they grey in the way a dustbunny is grey, dead and empty of actual substance. They were not even grey in the way butt-hugging sweatpants are grey, full of promise and a fun time. No, Annabeth's grey eyes were certainly not any of those. Annabeth's grey eyes were grey in the way clouds are grey during the calm before the storm. Her eyes were grey in the way the wind is grey when it begins picking up, swirling leaves, breezing through one's hair and making it an untameable mess. Those were her eyes. Grey, like the calm before the storm. Those were her eyes when she was happy, content, or relaxed. However, Annabeth was none of those. She was livid.
There is a popular saying that goes "if looks could kill". Well, the only reason the first word is attached to that phrase is because no one had ever looked into Annabeth Chase's eyes when she felt like killing. If one did, perhaps that phrase would lose that first word. This is all to say, Annabeth's eyes no longer resembled the calm before the storm. They were the storm. Her eyes raged, like a tornado across the Midwestern Prairie. One could hear the thunder, taste the lightning, smell the rain spattering against conrete. Her eyes were a stormy grey. Her brothers knew this look by heart and they knew, in all their young boy wisdom, to avoid those eyes at all costs. If they didn't, there would be hell to pay and Hades himself would take pity on them for the pain they had suffered at the eyes of Annabeth Chase.
With a very small voice, the slightly braver of the boys hesitantly began answering the question, "We just wanted to see if something could explode in water."
Annabeth blinked very slowly. She took a deep breath in. She let out said deep breath. She blinked again. She opened her mouth and quietly, threateningly, like a lioness stalking her prey, asked, "And why, pray tell, did you decide to use the toilet?"
The other brother, feeding off the first brother's bravery responded, in a very small voice, "It already had water in it… we wouldn't have to fill it up."
It is probably about this time that the reader is likely questioning where the parents of these three siblings would be found. Most have probably assumed the parents should have immediately run to the location of the exploding toilet and helped to a) calm Annabeth down and b) clean up the mess. However, it should be noted that said parents were currently preoccupied outside of the house together, as they had done every Wednesday morning for the past two months.
See, the Chase household had moved to the city of Ecclesia from the big city of San Francisco, California. Frederick Chase, tired of a long commute, had taken up a new teaching post at the local university and had brought his family with him. Because of their short stay so far in Ecclesia, in an effort to learn more about their new home, Frederick and Susan Chase left early Wednesday morning every week and explored the city, finding out about the small niche restaurants, parks, and assorted other fun family bonding type experiences.
This was why Annabeth had found herself here, without fail, every single Wednesday afternoon. Demeter's Drinks. It was straight to the point and blunt, something Annabeth relished. Originally, Annabeth had used this café as an escape from her incredibly chaotic home in order to focus in on her architectural designs, but lately she'd been equally excited to talk to the barista boy who was there every single week. There was something about him that made her curious. She could see it in his eyes, the way his hands twisted, the gait of his walk. It was not all the time, but every so often, something in his manner would belie the confident, no, not just confident… the cocky words leaving his mouth.
Today, however, she did not care who served her coffee. Today, she needed the escape. Practically kicking open the café door, she strode briskly, and put her hands on the counter. "I need my usual. But add a couple extra shots. Today has been a day." That is when she noticed him. Oh. Black jeans today. That- okay yup.
Up to this point, Annabeth had only seen the barista boy in blue jeans. Everyone wore blue jeans, nothing special. But there was something about the black. Annabeth did not mind them at all. It also did not help her speeding up heart that they were ripped. Jagged lines crossed the front of his knees, up his thighs. Was that a little bit of boxer she could see peeking out of one of the rips?
Of course, Annabeth did not let any of her thoughts cross her face. She had long since trained herself to only show the emotions she wanted people to see. For the most part, that meant a strong, independent woman who did not need no man. Add the z-snap for punctuation. Then the boy spoke, and Annabeth felt herself working a bit harder to keep her face in check.
"Yes ma'am. Four dollars." Nothing special, just a polite response. No sassy comment, no judgement, just acceptance and politeness. Annabeth was honestly stunned. Who knew the sarcasitc little know it all could keep his voice in check when she needed peace and quiet. When she looked at his eyes, she could not stop the small frown from leaking through. She had expected the mischevious light or the slight warmth she felt when he thought she did not catch him staring. What she did not expect to see was tiredness and more than a little resignation.
The barista boy tilted his head at Annabeth and asked, "Ma'am, something wrong?"
Annabeth realized she had been caught staring and the frown had leaked through. Her brain moved at a ridiculous speed and she responded convincingly, "Yes, I asked for extra shots? And yet the price is the same?"
The barista boy shrugged, "Yeah, no, I got that. Just figured I'd cover the extra shots since it's 'been a day.'" He used a pair of sassy finger quotes here, resembling a little bit more of the boy to which she had become accustomed.
She let a small smile light twitch across her face, "Oh. Thank you." She paid the four dollars, leaving a one dollar tip in the jar, and walked to her normal seat in the café. What the boy did not know was that she purposely positioned herself at a table where she could see him, at all times, in the reflection of the window. This is how she always knew when he was staring at her. This was also how she knew something was wrong. She did not know what happened or why it was this way, but the barista boy no longer stared her way. He focused on the drink, he brought it out, and went back behind the counter without a second glance. Normally, she noticed him dragging his eyes from her or checking out her butt, but none of that today. It worried her a little, but she shrugged it off and focused on her architecture.
Unfortunately, this meant that Annabeth Chase, for all her wisdom and expertise in analyzing human beings, completely missed the broken look that appeared in Perseus Jackson's eyes after she left the café, a look that very few people ever got to see.
AN: Sorry for the cliffhanger. Like honestly. There just isn't a way to resolve the chapter without switching POVs and I didn't want to do that in the chapter. Guess you'll just have to stay tuned til next time! Anyway, thanks for all the reviews last time! Those really helped keep me encouraged and motivated. So, as always, please favorite/follow/leave a review. Y'all don't realize how much they help. Maybe it's just my need for positive reinforcement, but it does help! xD See y'all next time!