There is a beautiful serenity that comes with wildflower fields.
It's hidden beneath the colors, twinkling with the sun in the sky, moving with the flowers in the gentle breeze. It comes with the sound of silence, and the realization that she is truly alone.
Annabeth finds she doesn't mind. The grass is lush against her toes, and a few flowers tickle her skin, and she feels free. She's surprised she hadn't found this place sooner than she did with how often she used to walk down this road back in middle school, but she makes up for lost time, leaning back in the grass and feeling the sun kiss her skin warm. Flowers dangle above her in her vision, pastel blues and pinks and purples, and she truly feels like she's caught chasing down a daydream.
She's probably not supposed to be here, but she allows herself to break this rule, if only because she can't bear to part with the blue sky painted with streaks of white.
Annabeth had been walking down the road near the pretty white barn, no goal in mind besides reliving past moments in her life, when she spotted the subtle dust of color among the grass. The white wooden fence she had to hop over was nearly covered by the tall blades of grass lining the road, but it hadn't deterred her. It's possible that it should have, considering she was wearing sandals and flowy dress, and her friend had spent a good amount of time braiding her hair earlier that day, but it was as simple as taking her shoes off and hoping no one appeared behind her. It was like passing through a portal into a world void of worry, and the thought makes her smile and press her head against the grass and inhale the scent of fresh air.
She reaches up for a particular flower—this one is a light blue to match the sky—and traces her fingers along each individual petal. As her thumb caresses a petal, lingering to preserve the silk touch, the petal falls off. It lands on her cheek before it's lost in the wind a few inches away, so she continues onto the next petal. That pattern continues until she reaches for another flower, and then the next, before she's felt all the ones within distance and is left with no choice but to stand and continue on.
She holds her sandals by the straps in one hand as she softly steps through the field. She can spot a few bees, and she's careful that she doesn't harm them.
Annabeth finds beauty in the way the field seems to stretch on forever. She stops in another section, closer to the empty barn house, and her sandals fall back to the ground.
When she jumped the fence, she hadn't intended on taking any of the flowers home with her. As beautiful as the flowers are, regions of baby's breaths and lavender and everything in between, she would feel guilty picking them, the sweet and harmless things.
Still, the flowers are tantalizing, gleaming beneath the sun, so she plucks a few small ones to place in her hair. She takes a few more too, forming a small bouquet in her hands. She decides she wants to take some home with her, so she turns around to examine which one feels right. It's an impossible task when they're all as flawless as they are, but she's interrupted before she gets to choose.
"You know this is private property, right?"
Annabeth jumps, whirling around to face the stranger. He fits into the scene, green eyes vibrant, and his light wash jeans and button down shirt like he's just come from church. He looks sweet and gentle, and his eyes are on the flowers in her hand.
"Is it?" Annabeth asks, smiling kindly. "I hadn't known."
"I would have thought the fence you jumped would clue you in."
Annabeth tilts her chin up, eyes gleaming. "I'm a strong believer that flowers are public property, actually."
She's messing with him, teasing a bit to gauge his reaction. He doesn't appear mad. If anything, he's more amused.
"Well," he says, giving a lopsided grin. It shows a dimple in his cheek, and of course a pretty boy in a field of flowers would have dimples. "This is a private property, and you're ripping the flowers out of the ground."
"Only a few," she promises. "I figured you could spare them. Hope you're not mad?"
"I might be," he says, but he's still grinning. "I could call the police, you know."
"This far out of town, I'd have stolen the whole field before they got here."
"Then I suppose I have to let you get away with it."
"A good thief always gets away with it," she says brightly, laughing.
"And is that what you are? A thief?"
"Maybe I am," she says, waving the bouquet in his face. "I do have your flowers, after all."
"In that case, I should probably ask your name so I can file a report after you get away."
"I think you would be much kinder if you didn't report me at all."
He's playing a game with her, the girl in his flower field, and she's not giving in. She gives him a teasing grin which he returns with the bite of his lip to stifle a smile and a small shake of his head.
"And if I promise to not report you, a flower thief, I would hope you wouldn't mind giving me your name anyway."
Maybe it's the sugary smile he gives, and maybe it's the whole scene around them that has Annabeth melting.
"I'm Annabeth," she says, "and I will be taking these flowers home with me."
"Annabeth," he repeats, tongue tracing the syllables. "A fitting name for a flower thief."
"And what about you?"
"I'm hardly a thief."
"Your name," she states, giggling, though he already knew that.
He ignores that. "Do you plan on trespassing again?"
Annabeth tilts her head, braid falling over her shoulder. A few of the flowers she'd placed there come loose, but she pays it no attention. "I might."
"It's only trespassing if we're strangers," he says, and she realizes she won't be getting his name. It seems like an invitation for her to return to this wildflower field in the middle of somewhere, Colorado. She's wondering how she's passed this field so many times without being aware of the green eyed boy.
Annabeth must have an incredulous look on her face with the chuckle he gives in her direction. He stays an arms distance away, a tease, and his eyes trace over her, lingering on the white silk of her dress, on the reflection of the sun in her golden hair, of the mischievous look in her eyes.
He takes a step away.
"I'll see you later, flower thief."
Annabeth returns to the flower field exactly one week later.
She takes the same path she did the first time, though she thinks if she comes a third time, she's going to need to find an alternate entrance. Hopping a fence in a dress is more difficult than it sounds, and it usually ends with a few splinters that are horribly difficult to get out. It's worth it, though, because she's wearing her favorite pink dress for a boy whose name she doesn't know, and she's going to find him if it's the last thing she does.
She wanders around for a bit, getting distracted by the scenery once again. It never does get old, and she can imagine a life here, surrounded by nature and nothing else. It's a life void of worry, and she thinks she could get used to that. She's so busy imagining what it would be like to live in a place like this that she doesn't notice the person she's been looking for standing a few meters behind her.
It's only when he says, "Back to steal more?" that she turns with a smile.
She faces him and takes a few steps until she's within arms reach. "Hope you don't mind. I loved the first few so much I had to come back for seconds."
"And if I did mind?"
"I'd tell you too bad."
He laughs, and she thinks he looks pretty beneath the sun. It's difficult to describe, but he looks impossibly soft in front of her. He's not small by any means, but his edges are dulled by the delicate nature surrounding them.
"My hands are empty," she reminds him, waving them in his face to prove it. "I'm innocent."
"So you came here for something else," he says, like it's a fact.
"Or you caught me before I could pick what I was taking this time."
"You've been here thirty minutes," he says. "That's plenty of time to empty this place out."
He knows she's been there for thirty minutes, which means he's been keeping an eye on her. She wonders why he hadn't come out initially.
"You mean you knew I was here, but you decided to watch me instead?"
"You're trespassing onto my property," he says. "I was giving you time to do your thing."
"Time wasn't what I was looking for," she says, a tease. She eyes him up and down, appreciative of what she sees. He's dressed less formally than the last time she saw him, and his shirt is tight enough that she can see the subtle definition of his muscles.
"And so here I am."
Annabeth rolls her eyes.
"So why are you here, if it's not to pick flowers?"
She takes a step closer to him so that they're face to face. He's stifling a smile with the bite of his lip, because he knows exactly what she's here for. "I may be a thief, but I do feel bad about the trespassing part. I figured there was really only one way to fix it."
"And what is that?"
"Tell me your name."
"Guess."
"Probably, like, Kyle."
"I've never been so insulted."
"You said yourself that it's not trespassing if we're not strangers, and the best way to not be strangers is to tell me your name."
"What if I told you my name is Kyle?"
"I'd walk away and never look back."
"Then it's a good thing that's not my name."
So he wants her to stay.
"I'm Percy," he says with a smile, and she thinks that's when she falls in love.
"Well, Percy," she lifts her hand to squeeze the upper portion of his arm before falling back, "it looks like it's totally legal for me to be standing in this field, then."
"Oh, no."
"You fell into my trap," she says, grinning in his face. He smiles back, and she's realizing neither of them seem to be able to stop smiling. "You're stuck with me."
"Is that going to get me in trouble?"
"Oh, yeah," Annabeth jokes. "I'm nothing but trouble."
"I figured that was the case when you hopped my fence."
To be fair, the second time hopping the fence was hardly her fault. She would have been more than happy to walk through the front door like a normal person, but he hadn't told her his name. Maybe that had been a part of his ploy, forcing her to return because she has never been the type of person to do well with mystery. She wouldn't think that a stranger would know much about her, but they're both standing in a wildflower field with nowhere else they'd rather be, so it's possible they're more alike than they think.
"Have you ever gotten into trouble?" Annabeth asks suddenly.
Percy's lips quirk. "I'm looking at it."
And maybe she is nothing but trouble. She doesn't think that would be the worst thing.
"I was just about to grab some of the flowers," Percy tells her suddenly. "How about a tour?"
There is really only the house and the field, but she wouldn't mind a tour anyway if it means she gets to spend time with him.
He extends a hand in her direction, and she takes it.
The property is bigger than she thought, and he shows her all the best places. Somehow, the grass remains lush wherever they go, and she winds up holding her sandals in the hand that isn't intertwined with Percy's.
It's not so much a tour as it is Percy showing her the different types of flowers there are. He seems to know the names of them all, and she finds herself wanting to memorize it along with him. He manages to make nature impossibly more profound, and she grasps onto every word he says.
"How do you know all this?" Annabeth asks during a lull in conversation.
"I grew up here."
"Really?"
He laughs. "Yeah. It's not that I'm completely obsessed with this type of thing, but it's hard not to learn when it's all you ever hear."
"Where'd you hear it from?"
"My mom."
Annabeth nods, waiting for him to continue.
"And she heard it from her mom," Percy says. They stop walking, and he turns to face her. "I don't think any of this was intentional. My grandmother loved flowers, and she liked to make her own bouquets to put in vases, so…she just started growing them. My mom grew up like that, and now we have a whole field to pick bouquets from. The knowledge comes with time, I guess."
"So you mean to tell me you don't spend all your time out here? Because that's exactly what I would do if I lived here."
"Not all my time," Percy says, teasing. "I do have other things to do."
"Like what?"
"Sit in air conditioning."
"The wind is my air conditioning."
"You won't be saying that in a few weeks when it reaches the peak of summer."
She elbows him softly. "I'm going to be here in a few weeks?"
"Mm. Not if you plan on destroying my hard work."
"It's not even your work," she points out. They don't seem like they're going to be moving anytime soon since Percy had turned to analyze a portion of the flowers. She decides to sit, leaning back on the palms of her hands. "And you said you don't like it here."
"I definitely never said that," he says absentmindedly. He looks at her over his shoulder. "Help me pick colors."
"For what?"
"The house."
Annabeth's eyes find the house in the distance. The white-painted wood blends into the scene. It's small and homey, and the corners of the house are chipping paint, but she understands the beauty behind it. It's waking up on weekend morning and opening the windows to breathe in the scent of nature, to hear the birds sing and let the breeze rush over her while she's still hiding beneath blankets.
"How about those?" Annabeth asks, gesturing in the direction of a few pastel petals. She's not sure what they are, but it's not a problem because Percy tells her anyway. He picks a few, kneeling to the ground, and she's captivated by how gentle he is. He's careful not to pull too hard, and he respects the flowers even as he places them into the palm of his hand.
He looks at her again. "Next?"
They continue like that, Annabeth guiding him around and Percy following her lead. She's never seen the inside of the house, but she thinks she can still capture the feeling behind it, so the bouquet in his hands grows to be beautiful and delicate, pastel tulips and baby's breaths sprinkled in. He's focused on taking a few of the pink flowers she'd requested, and she uses that moment to really appreciate him.
There's something about a man like him bowing down to nature. It's something along the lines of acknowledging that they are not the only ones in existence, and that the world does not belong solely to them. It makes him more gorgeous than he already is, and he's plenty gorgeous alone. His hair contrasts the light colors around them, black and rustling softly in the breeze. The muscles of his shoulders move as he does, and it prompts her to bite her lower lip in a smile.
He catches her staring, but he doesn't say a thing. His eyes stay on her, glimmering and bright, and before she knows it, he's in front of her extending his arms.
"For you," he clarifies, dimples prominent. She wants to kiss them. "Pretty flowers for a pretty girl."
"I thought they were for the house," Annabeth says, but she takes them anyway. His fingers wrap around hers as the flowers transfer to her, and he's warm, and she never wants to let go. She wants to put the flowers on her bedroom's windowsill, and she wants him right there next to it. "Are you sure?"
"Take it," he says. "It matches your dress."
It does, and she thinks that might've been why he took her to this specific spot in the field, where everything was various shades of whites and pinks. She feels bad, though, taking these from him and giving him nothing in return, so she pulls a single flower from the bundle of them, waiting as Percy settles to his knees in front of her so that she can place it delicately on top of his head.
"A pretty flower for a pretty boy." It doesn't stay for very long, but Percy's eyes light up in amusement anyway. She tries to reach for it to place it on his head again, but the wind pulls it down a second time.
"You tried," he says, laughing, before he settles onto his back in the grass beside her. "I have plenty of flowers already."
"But I gave you that one."
"I gave you the one you gave to me," Percy counters, teasing. "You basically just regifted a gift."
"I'm going to start a wildflower field, just you see."
Percy grabs the flower from the ground, holding it between his fingers instead. "I can't wait."
Annabeth can't either.
Annabeth quickly develops a habit of jumping over wooden fences. It's different than before, though, seeing as Percy meets her directly on the other side, and more often than not, he's helping lift her over the wood and into his arms.
"You're late," he says, but he holds out a hand for her to steady herself anyway.
"I got distracted and hopped your cute neighbor's fence," she lies, sliding off the wood onto solid ground.
"You're so funny."
Annabeth preens and takes his hand. "I know."
They usually wander the field for a bit before they settle somewhere in the grass, but today, Percy leads her directly to the back of the field. She knows what awaits in this portion of the field, and she expects to find a crystalline lake that she's seen so many times before. She's not disappointed, the sun reflecting off the rippling water, nearly blinding, but today, there's something extra.
In the grass beside the water rests a classic checkered picnic blanket. There's a basket resting on top, and a few fluffy pillows hanging around, and he'd even set up a vase filled with baby's breath, which she finds adorable because even though they're literally surrounded by all the flowers she could wish for, he finds a way to get more.
"Still want to hop my cute neighbor's fence?"
Annabeth smiles and tugs him along. "I didn't even know you had a neighbor."
They sit together, and she ends up putting her weight on the palms of her hands, leaning back so she can look at him. She doesn't try to hide her gaze now, and he doesn't either, staring back at her with a hint of a tease.
"Did this take a long time to put together?"
"A little bit," he says. "I don't mind."
"I feel bad I don't have anything for you," Annabeth says.
Percy tilts his head, chiding. "It's okay. I heard you had a bad week. This was worth it for you."
It had been a bad week, something he had been aware of during the few weeks they've spent sending messages back and forth between their differing lives. They don't get much time together, aside from whenever they find themselves in this field, but it doesn't bother her as much as she would've thought. It's like a break from reality, getting to come here and rest her head against his arm, staring up at the sky and arguing about what shapes the clouds take.
"How did your exams go?"
Annabeth hums, knocking her foot against his. "Probably not great, thanks to you."
Percy laughs, shoving her foot back. "How is that my fault?"
"You'd be surprised how difficult it is to label the anatomy of a flower when you're all that pops into my head."
His grin is infectious. "Maybe you should've studied more."
"I have a feeling that it wouldn't have made a difference."
"Am I that distracting?"
"Mhm." Annabeth straightens herself a bit so she's able to move closer. She shoves his shoulder playfully until he falls to the ground so she can follow and rest her head on his shoulder. "Especially when you're setting up picnics like this one. Keep this up, and I might get the wrong idea."
"And what's the wrong idea?"
Annabeth tilts her head up so she's able to look him in the eyes. His lashes are long, framing his eyes that never seem to leave hers. He smells clean, and his arm wraps around her, gently caressing her back. It feels like a dream, and she doesn't quite understand how she got here. Her life is filled with school and exams she doesn't care about but is forced to take because she has to do something, but she doesn't mind any of it when she gets to come here after it's all over.
Annabeth brings her fingers up to brush against his cheek. "That you're falling in love with me."
For a moment, she thinks he's going to kiss her. It passes through his eyes, is present in the way his heart thuds inside his chest, behind the soft giggle that bubbles out of his throat. Somehow, she knows she's in love.
"I might be," Percy says, but he doesn't move. "You have this thing about you."
She pokes his chest. "This thing?"
"You walked into this field, and you never left. You have this confidence, and a smile that makes it hard to ever want you to leave. I think anyone would fall in love with you."
Annabeth feels like a child on a playground, agreeing to marry a kid she met five minutes prior, kissing behind the swingset. It doesn't make sense, but not everything needs to.
"I bet you have tons of guys after you in that flower class you're taking," Percy jokes, sighing. "Too bad they're not here, right?"
"First of all," she says, "it's called biology. We just happen to be doing flower anatomy."
"I could teach you the anatomy of a flower better than any of your professors."
Percy says it adorably, a pout on his lips that she wants to kiss away. She almost wishes she had let him, but with the grip of his fingers on her waist and the soft blow on her head with each breath he takes, it's not exactly the anatomy of a flower she wants him to teach her.
"I'm sure you could," she says. "I'd rather spend our time like this, though."
"We can spend our time however we want. We have all the time in the world, and I want to teach you about flowers."
"And if I let you," Annabeth begins, "what would you do?"
"I'd have to research a lot, probably, because I don't actually know all that much about the anatomy of a flower."
Annabeth laughs.
"I'd figure it out," he says. "I just want to spend more time with you."
"And where would we go?"
"We could stay right here," he promises. "I'll set up a picnic every day."
His answer should satiate her, and in a way, it does. She'd never complain about being here, but at the same time, she wants more. There's that house sitting in sight, but she's never gone inside. It's tantalizing and beautiful, and as much as she knows the boy she's lying with, she doesn't know all that much about him.
"I want more."
Percy rolls his eyes fondly. "I'm not sure how many more flowers I can get."
Annabeth sits up again, but Percy stays laying down. His hands rest around her waist lightly, and he stays smiling up at her. "I want to go inside your house."
He furrows his brows, confused, but he's not upset. "Why?"
Annabeth looks around. "I feel like I don't know anything about you."
He snorts.
"I mean. I know you, but you don't talk much about yourself," she explains. Her eyes fall to the house. "I want to see what's inside, you know? You're my friend, and I want to know more about you."
Percy gives her an adoring look. "There's not much to know."
"Why can't I go inside your house?"
Percy chuckles, squeezing her waist. "You can if you want to. I just didn't think you'd be interested. I thought you liked it out here."
She loves it out here, but she wants all of him.
"I do," she promises, "but I want to know more about you. Like the deep stuff."
"The deep stuff?"
"Like…what color are your walls?"
"Oh, now you've crossed a line."
"I'm serious," she laughs.
"I'll show you," he says, "but you have to understand that only the people I really like get to go inside."
"And how many people do you really like?" she asks accusingly, ripping out a few blades of grass to toss in his direction.
Percy holds up a single finger and tilts his head.
"So whoever goes into your house is extra special? Since there's only one?"
"Something like that," Percy says, dropping his hand. "Next week, I'll show you. I'll tell you my life story too, if that's what you really want."
"I have to wait a week?"
"It's a complete mess," he tells her. "It would probably scare you away."
Annabeth smiles. "I'm not going anywhere."
The picnic ends up going untouched, the both of them too captivated by each other to pay it any attention. They forget what time it is, talking away about anything that pops into mind, and the sun begins to fall down after what feels like no time at all. Neither of them make any effort to move, letting the sun disappear behind trees in the distance.
"I feel bad," Annabeth says after a moment of silence, missing the warmth of the sun. "All this effort for a picnic, and we didn't even touch it."
"I guess you'll have to come back, then," Percy says. "Maybe you'll get that life story you want so badly."
"I guess I will," she muses, forcing herself to stand. He follows soon after, and he stretches his arms before taking her hand. "Really want to know what secrets you have inside that pretty house."
"Mostly embarrassing childhood pictures," he tells her.
Annabeth bends down to pick up the flowers in the vase. They're too delicate and gorgeous to be left here in the dark, and she decides they'd be more useful in her room, where she can look at them in the moonlight and fall asleep feeling him nearby.
"I'm going to steal this vase," she tells him, lifting it to his view.
"What's new?" Percy shakes his head, enamored, and tugs her hand. "Come on. I'll walk you home."
The walk isn't very far, but it takes a long time with the way they drag their feet. Annabeth used to miss living in the city, but at this moment, she's glad she ended up where she did. Here, she's able to look up at the sky and spot the clusters of stars she never could have dreamed of in New York. It sparkles the same way Percy does, and she finds she doesn't want to drop his hand. When they get to her own house, hidden from the windows in case her dad decides to wonder who she's been running off to recently, they stand close.
"I'll see you soon, okay?" Percy says. He hands her the vase that had ended up in his hands during the walk. "Enjoy the flowers."
She takes them from him. "I'm sorry I stole them."
"Don't be. I'm used to it," he says playfully. "They were for you, anyway."
Annabeth had been cold during the walk, but right now, she feels nothing but warmth spread through her body. He brings his hand up to brush against her cheek with his knuckle, and she leans into the touch. A part of her wants him to bend down and kiss her goodnight, but he doesn't, and she understands.
"Falling in love with me?" Annabeth whispers, chin tilted up at him.
He smiles and drops his hand. "Always."
"You do realize I could get you these for free, right?"
Annabeth looks behind herself at Percy, giving him a chiding look. "You didn't have to come."
"I did to stop you from making stupid decisions," Percy says, lightly smacking her wandering hand away from a bouquet of flowers.
"You're at a farmer's market," she says, pointedly picking the bouquet back up. "You don't have these flowers, anyway."
"I can plant them."
Annabeth ignores that, picking a second bouquet up. They're different colors, both pastel, and it's difficult to decide which she wants to take home. She decides on both.
"This is your fault," she says, beginning to walk down the gravelly path. It's difficult, maneuvering her way through the crowd of people at different tents, but she manages well enough. She didn't think so many people would be at a farmer's market in a small Colorado town on a Monday. Percy falls into step beside her. "You made it so that I always have to have flowers in my house, so blame yourself."
"I think it's a great thing that you love flowers," he says, "but it would be better if you let me give them to you."
"But these are so pretty." Her eye catches another vase filled with lavender. She sets one of the jars she already has filled with pastel peonies onto the ground to run her fingers through the lavender.
"I'm insulted."
Annabeth shoots him a look before turning back to her flowers.
"Let's go," he whines, sending a stab of affection through her heart. "I will literally let you take as many of my flowers as you want. At least they're not diseased, or—or bug infested!"
Annabeth throws her head back, laughing. "These aren't diseased. Quiet down before someone hears you."
Percy presses into her back, resting his chin on top of her head, and says, thoroughly miffed, "I hope they hear me."
Annabeth rolls her eyes and continues looking through a few of the flowers around. The blue hydrangeas catch her eye, and she touches the petals lightly, but her mind is far away. She had already planned on going to the farmer's market, but then Percy had texted wishing her a good morning, and she needed him to come with her. She doesn't regret it in the slightest, even with Percy whining in her ear. She loves that he wants to be the only one to give her flowers, and she loves the adorable pout covering his face, and the way he rests his body against hers when he gets bored, even though they aren't officially dating.
She loves everything about this, really.
"Please, let's go."
Annabeth flicks his nose lightly before turning in his grasp. The pot of flowers she hadn't set down remains between the two of them, preventing her from stepping into his warm embrace. "I like these flowers."
"That's so mean."
Annabeth snickers and holds the pot up. The pink peonies meet his eyes, and he traces over them before staring at her as though saying, really? "Buy me these?"
"Not a chance."
Annabeth lifts the pot to right below her eyes, squinting at him mischievously. "Buy them and we can go."
Percy's eyes light up and he can hardly hide his smile when he says, "If we leave now, without the flowers, I'll show you inside the house."
That's hardly an offer she can turn down.
She tries to pretend she's thinking about it, biting her lip and humming low in her throat, but by the way he looks at her, a knowing grin plastered to his lips, he already knows what she's going to say. It's funny, the way he knows her so well. They haven't known each other for more than a few weeks, but somehow, they end up in a place where they know what the other is thinking.
"That's so so unfair," she says, but she takes a step back from the table. His hand presses to her lower back, as though guiding her away because he doesn't quite trust her to turn her back to the table. In all honesty, she hadn't always loved flowers and nature as much as she does now. Sure, she'd thought they were nice, but now, they're tied to Percy. She can't ever look at the pastels and fragile plants without seeing his dimpled smile and pretty laugh.
They walk leisurely, Annabeth sure not to move too far away so that his hand stays placed to her skin. Her dress is thin, the same one she was wearing when she first met him, so she can feel the warmth of his palm. She leans closer in.
"I'd say it's plenty fair," Percy says, tugging her into his side. It brings a blush to her face, and she kind of wants to press her face against his shoulder and never leave. "If anything, you're the one being mean."
Annabeth snorts. "Oh, yeah?"
"You're trying to make me jealous," he says, like it's a fact.
She breathes in, content, and rests her temple against his shoulder. "What can I say? You're too easy."
"Admit it," Percy says dryly, tickling her side. "You just want me to prove that you're all mine."
"Am I? All yours?"
"You tell me."
Annabeth's biting her lower lip, not hard enough to sting but enough to stop herself from breaking out into a flustered smile. She likes the sound of being his, walking around their small town and waving to a few people she recognizes from beneath his arm.
"I'm so excited," she says, adjusting the pot in her arms. They're well beyond the fence at the beginning of the farmer's market, so the area is much more empty. "I get to go inside the white house."
"It's…a house," Percy says. "Not sure why you're so excited, but it's cute."
"It's like. The house. It's practically teasing me, and now I get to go inside."
"It means I like you."
Annabeth shifts the pot in her arms again. It feels a lot heavier, and she's nearly dropped it twice. "If you like me so much, you could at least hold this pot for me," she murmurs, distractedly trying to adjust her grasp.
Percy stops walking then, leaving her to take a few strides ahead before she realizes. When she finally does, she turns to him, confused, to find him staring at her, humored.
"What?"
"You're holding flowers," Percy says.
At first, she's not sure what he's alluding to. He's laughing quietly, which she doesn't normally mind, but he seems to be laughing at her, which is less cute. It doesn't seem malicious. If anything, he's smitten, but she still doesn't understand what he's doing when he shakes his head fondly, and—
Annabeth blinks. "I stole these flowers."
"You stole the flowers," he confirms.
She looks up at him, jaw dropped slightly. "They didn't even try to stop me."
Percy throws his head back, laughing.
"What do I do?" she asks, alarmed. "I can't steal these!"
"Isn't that kind of your thing?"
"I'm not a thief," she says.
"Hm. I don't think that's entirely true."
"Alright, you ass."
"Just take them," he laughs. "You already made it this far."
"I feel like I'm going to be arrested."
"Wasn't it you that said something about flowers being public property?"
"Percy."
"Just take them," he dismisses, laughing and waving his hand before returning to her side. "We can never show our faces here again, though."
"You're so helpful."
"Yeah, yeah. Give me the plant."
Annabeth refuses for a few seconds, just to mess with him, but then he manages to wrestle it out of her grasp anyway, holding it hostage so she can walk freely. They fall into silence for a few minutes, and Annabeth uses that opportunity to take a look around. She's walked this path several times before, but she usually stops by the time she reaches Percy. It's pretty, gravel lining the road with a few stray rocks along the side from the occasional car that passes by. The plants almost grow over the fence, unkempt in a way that fits the natural world. It reminds her of ivy, taking root somewhere and never leaving its home, growing into something beautiful from that one single vine. It's oddly reminiscent of a few weeks ago when she walked into his life with no intention of leaving.
"It's going to rain," Percy says quietly.
"Do you think we'll make it back before it does?"
He hums his disagreement, but says nothing else.
The sky, though casting shadows over the ground, is calming. It looms over them, coming closer, and by the end of the twenty minutes back to his house, she has no doubt they're about to become drenched.
The white house is visible in the distance, growing with every minute. The clouds over it nearly turn it grey, but it never seems to lose that comforting feel.
Annabeth is analyzing it as it comes closer, able to really see the peeling paint up close and the warm yellow lights lighting up the front porch. They're no more than twenty yards away.
That's when the rain decides to come pouring down.
It's hard, blurring her vision, and there's no use attempting to stay dry because they're both soaked head to toe in seconds. They stare at each other, eyes twinkling, before Percy says, "Let's go."
Annabeth breaks into a sprint right after Percy does, hand scrunching in the back of his shirt to keep hold of him. They're giggling like children running on the playground, and suddenly, it doesn't matter that her clothes are weighing her down and her hair is damp on her forehead. They run onto his porch, Annabeth nearly tripping on the two steps up, and they make it out of the rain.
"Oh my god," she laughs, forcing her hair out of her eyes. Percy laughs tiredly, setting the pot he'd managed not to drop to the side before making his way back to her. The rain continues to fall a few feet to her right, impossibly loud, but somehow, she can't hear it. All she can hear is the roar in her ears, the heartbeat in the tips of her fingers. He's even prettier like this, hair damp in front of his eyes, a few beads of water dripping down his forehead, gathering on his lips. His white t-shirt is see-through, and she can see the outline of his muscles.
He lifts his hand to wipe away water from her eyebrow. He's eyeing her like there's no one else in the world, thumb caressing her cheek, smiling down at her. Neither of them can hide their grins.
Annabeth doesn't intend to kiss him. She loves him, she knows, and he loves her too. They take things at their own pace because when there's all the time in the world, there's no need to rush, but when Percy closes his eyes and presses his forehead to whisper, "You're so beautiful," she finds that there's no reason to wait either.
She rushes forwards, pressing her lips to his, and it doesn't take long for him to respond. He always does pay attention to her and what she needs, and so he pulls her in closer, breathing her in, and neither of them can stop their teeth from clashing in their smiles, but she doesn't mind. His hands linger on her waist, not wanting to let go, and hers stay on his cheeks, feeling the rainwater and kissing it away.
It feels right, kissing on the front porch of the white house always in the distance.
"It's raining," Percy states, later, when they finally pull apart. His hands never leave her, and he keeps looking at her with something close to love.
Annabeth laughs brightly. "It is."
"I guess you're going to have to spend the rest of the day with me, then."
She runs her fingers through his wet hair, brushing it out of his eyes, and as much as she loves the pastel colors of flowers, they don't even begin to compare to the green of his eyes, a splash of color in a life that had previously been black and white.
"I guess I will."
The inside of the house is exactly as she would have imagined.
Annabeth sits on Percy's bed, alone, while he moves around in the bathroom to the side. It's cozy, warm colored lights overhead, and the occasional floorboard creaks beneath his weight. His bedroom is small on the second story of the house, and she can see the rain still pouring from the sky through the window. It's unusual how dark it is so early in the afternoon, but it's comforting. The rest of his room is too, lots of the decoration clearly years old and sentimental. The dresser looks worn like it's been around since he was a kid, and there are picture frames on top with a woman she suspects is his mom.
"Does it live up to your expectations?"
Annabeth pulls her attention away from the picture frames to find him standing in front of the bed. He's wearing a fresh t-shirt that's just a little bit too tight, and he's still holding a towel drying his hair.
"Beyond so," she says, lips tugging up. "I can see why you love it here."
He shrugs, coming closer. She's resting on her palms, and he steps in front of her legs, reaching forward to tug playfully at her wet hair with the towel. She takes it from him at the same time that he steps back.
"I'm sorry I couldn't find you better clothes," he says.
She sits up properly, beginning to dry her hair better. "Don't worry about it." He'd given her a pair of his old sweatpants and a random shirt with a band she doesn't recognize on the front, and it doesn't fit perfectly, but it's warm and smells like him, so she's not complaining.
"Are you cold?"
Annabeth kicks his shin lightly before dropping the towel back to the bed. "Only a little."
"I can get you a blanket," he offers.
She stands up. "I'll be alright."
She explores his room slowly, and he stays in his place, watching her move around. Her fingers trace over his dresser, feeling the divots in the wood, before she grips an intricately-designed picture frame.
"That's my mom," he confirms, coming up behind her. The woman is smiling with her arms around a young boy, and Annabeth imagines she'd be a wonderful person. "I was around three in this one. My dad died before I was born, so it's always been the two of us. I really love her."
"Where is she?"
Percy hums. "She's around here somewhere. I think she went out to work, but she'll be back tonight, if you want to meet her."
Annabeth's stomach flutters at the thought of meeting his mother. He wants her to meet his mother.
"What about this picture?" she asks, moving to the next frame. He's older in it, and he's squished between two of his friends. One has dark curly hair, and she feels like she recognizes him, but the other, she's never seen before. She has straight red hair and green eyes similar to his.
"Those were my friends in high school," he tells her. He presses his chest to her back, resting his chin on top of her head. "The guy is Grover. We're still best friends, but he moved away recently for work. He actually visited last year for my twenty-second."
"And the girl?"
"Rachel. We were best friends in middle school, and we started dating in high school. Broke up a few years ago."
Annabeth tilts her head up to look at him, a sly grin on her face. "Your girlfriend?"
"Ex," he emphasizes, laughing. "Haven't spoken to her in years. Don't plan on it."
"Did it end badly?"
"We just weren't it for each other, but it's hard to go back to friends after something like that."
She gets the sentiment. She can't say that it doesn't make her a little jealous, but right now, she's the one in his room, nestled in his arms. From the way he presses his cheek to hers, nudging her nose with his, she thinks she has nothing to be jealous of.
Still, she turns in his arms and says, "Should I be worried?"
"Yes," he deadpans.
Annabeth shoves him backwards playfully. "Yeah?"
Her hands reach out to push him again, but he catches her wrists and tugs her towards him instead. "Haven't you heard? I seem to fall in love with anyone I find in my flower field."
"It's a good thing that's considered trespassing, then. No one in their right mind would walk into your flower field."
"Except you," he points out.
Annabeth tilts her head, preening. "Except me."
"That's exactly why you shouldn't be worried," he tells her. "You make it impossible to ever fall in love with anyone else."
Annabeth manages to wriggle her hands free of his grasp, pushing him one last time until he falls back onto the bed. He's laughing, eyeing her with something too close to love as she climbs over him, settling over his waist and pressing her palms to his chest. He wastes no time planting his hands to her hips, lifting the oversized shirt just a bit so that his thumbs can brush against her skin.
"If anything, I should be the one worried," he says. "Any exes I should watch out for?"
Annabeth snorts. "One ex, but definitely not one you should be worried about."
Percy tickles her side. "Oh?"
"I lived in New York for a bit," she says. "That's where I met him. His name was Luke."
"Sounds like a dick."
"He was, but I didn't know it at the time. We started dating when I was eighteen, and he was twenty-five. All around, he wasn't a great person, and I realize that now, but I loved him, so I stuck around."
"What happened?"
"He left me two two years later, and I moved here. Moved in with my dad, finished school, and then…"
"And?"
"I walked into a field of flowers and nearly got arrested for trespassing."
Percy laughs, and Annabeth really loves the sound of it. She doesn't remember the last time she felt like this, heart whole and warm. Being with Luke had taken a toll on her, even while they were still together. She never found out for sure, but she'd had her suspicions that there had been other people in their bed when she wasn't home. After they broke up, she was miserable. Miserable at the fact that she spent two years with someone that was never capable of love, that she let herself be tricked, that she had no one left.
When she's laying here in Percy's bed, she forgets it all.
"I wasn't going to have you arrested."
"You should've," she muses, plopping down next to him. He opens his arm to her, and she rests her head on it, curling into his side. "It would've been a great story to tell."
"If I did that, I'd have to report all your other crimes."
Annabeth gasps. "Like what?"
"Stealing my flowers," he lists off, "and stealing other people's flowers too."
"That was an accident."
"You stole my clothes."
"Only because you dragged me through the rain," she protests.
"My heart," he says daringly, raising an eyebrow. "Any arguments for that one?"
It's so cheesy and disgusting that she can't help but giggle in his face. He turns his head to her so his nose is pressed to hers.
"I'd argue you willingly gave that to me," she whispers. "Consider it a fair trade."
"Mh-hm." Percy kisses her nose lightly. "Thief."
She rolls her eyes before nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck. The room falls into silence, and all she can hear is the rain still pouring outside the house. His fingers play at her back, and his breathing is light. She hadn't known that this was what she was missing all her life.
Annabeth never wants to leave.
She knows she never has to.
Annabeth thinks it's going to storm.
She's sitting in the flower field again, where she spends too much of her time. It's different today, though, with the sky far from the light blue she loves. It's gray, storm clouds off in the distance. It's a bit cold, the sun out of sight behind the clouds, and it's windy enough that she doesn't bother trying to fix strands of her hair that fly around her face.
Annabeth blinks back tears, resting her chin on her knees from where she's curled up in the grass. She's not sure why she feels like this—nothing had actually happened—but the day has been long and miserable, and all she wants is to lay down in Percy's arms and go to sleep. He wasn't home when she got here, though, so she's waiting for him and hoping it doesn't start pouring.
She shivers at a particularly harsh gust of wind. It's almost soothing, the feeling of the breeze against her hands, so she doesn't move. She's still appreciative, though, that she'd worn a pair of sweatpants and a sweater she stole from Percy's closet. It lets her stay in place, staring at the flowers that seem dull today. They're not any less pretty, though. It's different than the usual vibrance this field offers, but there's still beauty in a storm.
She sits there for what can't be more than an hour before she hears, "I've been calling you."
Annabeth barely looks up. "My phone died."
Percy steps closer, nudging her back with his foot. "How long have you been sitting here?"
"About an hour." Annabeth lifts her chin from her knees when he sits next to her, choosing to force her way back into his arms instead. "I didn't mind."
"Maybe you don't mind, but I feel bad that you were sitting out here when it's about to storm."
"And now you're sitting here too," she says lightly, looking up at him. His thumb caresses her cheek gently. "Where were you?"
"I had to step into work for a bit," he says. Annabeth had been surprised when he told her he works at an elementary school for the first time. She's not sure how she was so surprised because it fits him so well. He's so patient and kind, even when she can sometimes be the opposite. "You know how it is. They were running around like headless chickens when I got there."
"It was Ms. Jones that called you in?"
Percy nods, and he seems to know where this is going. "Yeah."
"She probably wants to give you a blowjob," she mutters, scowling.
Percy chokes on a laugh.
Annabeth isn't sure why that's the first thing out of her mouth. Even she hasn't expected to say that, but she suspects it has something to do with the last conversation she had about Ms. Jones with Percy. He was the one to mention that she'd been with half of the school staff, which Annabeth tries not to judge, but she'd much rather Percy not be on that list.
"She looks at you like she wants to eat you whole," Annabeth continues, scrunching her nose in distaste. "She's, like, fifty years old."
"I don't think she's quite that old yet. Forty-nine, maybe."
"It's not like it matters," Annabeth says, "because you're all mine. Not hers." Annabeth points at herself. "Mine."
Percy chuckles, lifting her chin with his thumb so he can kiss her properly. "Exactly."
"Ms. Jones needs to learn her place," she murmurs against his lips, feeling okay for the first time that day. "Tell her to stop calling you in on weekends so that you can spend time with your girlfriend. No blowjobs for you."
"I'll be sure to pass that message along," he says, letting her fall back onto his lap. His fingers play with her hair before brushing her cheek twice. "None?"
"Unless you're into cougars."
Percy snorts. "Are you okay?"
Annabeth grabs his fingers to play with them, distracted.
"What's wrong?"
She shrugs, trying to ignore her thoughts, but then he's looking at her, concerned, and she really can't stop the tears that fall from her eyes. She really didn't intend to start crying, but she finds that being asked if she's alright brings everything rushing forward, out of her control.
"Annabeth?"
She bites her lip, looking anywhere except at him.
"Talk to me," he says softly. He brushes hair out of her eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. Today just really sucked, and I want to go to sleep and not exist."
Percy smiles sadly, wiping tears from her eyes. "You can go to sleep, but I'd prefer if you kept existing. I kind of like you."
"I dropped my cereal all over my clothes this morning, and I nearly got hit by a car, and I tripped on the stairs, and I really want to stop existing for today." She pauses. "Also Jones is all over you, and that's annoying and slightly sickening."
Percy ignores that last part. "What cereal?"
"Lucky charms."
"Lucky charms?" Percy feigns horror. "No wonder you're so upset. I'd be upset too if I dropped a bowl of lucky charms."
Annabeth flicks his nose. "I'm serious. This is miserable."
"I know," he says. "I'm sorry you dropped your cereal and almost tripped down the stairs."
"You say that like it's funny."
"It's not funny," he promises. "Why didn't you go take a nap?"
"I wanted to see you."
It's different from the past. At the end of the worst day, all she wants to do is see him. She never would've imagined being in this moment, that walking into a random field would lead to her falling in love. It's a wonderful feeling, being able to run into his arms, to tease him endlessly and know he'll still be right there.
"Why don't we go inside?" Percy asks gently, nudging her shoulder. "It's cold out here, and definitely about to rain."
Annabeth whines when he moves out from beneath her, but she can't help an adoring grin from coming up on her face when he picks a flower by the stem from a few feet to their right and hands it to her.
"Come on," he says, extending his hand. When she takes it, he helps her to her feet, and she's not expecting it when he pulls her closer to him and kisses her once, but that shock is quickly overcome when he smiles and whispers, "Maybe we should get you a key."
Annabeth blinks. "Are…are you being serious?"
Percy smiles, and she can't even remember why she was upset. It always goes something like this. "I wouldn't want you to sit out here all alone. Besides, you're here so often it's only fair."
Suddenly, she can imagine a future, right here in that white house. She can see them, years from now, in the flower field saying I do, in the place that they first met. She can imagine winters sitting in the field and watching delicate snowflakes fall from the sky, Christmas sitting in the warmth of the only home she's ever known.
Annabeth wants it all. Now she has it.
"You're so never getting away from me now," she says, unable to wipe the grin from her face.
"Maybe I never want to."
Annabeth never grows tired of the serenity in wildflower fields.
It would be difficult to grow tired of the things she loves most. Once upon a time, it was the flowers she fell in love with. It was the tulips and daisies and everything in between that she wanted to spend her life with. It was the kiss of the sun on her skin, the orange glow casted on the white paint of the house, that made her feel at home. Even when the flowers wilted, they always came back.
Suddenly, those weren't the things she fell in love with anymore.
It didn't take long for her love of flowers to turn into the love of a familiar pair of green eyes, or the love of resting in his arms on a rainy day. It's funny how life changes, and she ends up here, back in this flower field in the middle of spring.
Annabeth wants to lay back in the grass, but she stops herself, biting her lip in a smile. She rests on the palms of her hand, scrunching the blades of grass to stop herself from reaching forwards. It's a lovely view, amusing and adorable, and she's so enamored that she doesn't hear Percy until he's right behind her.
"You're supposed to be watching her, you know."
Annabeth jumps slightly, but her eyes don't leave her daughter. Her lips tug up, especially when he sits next to her, letting her put her weight on him. "Leave her be. She's having fun."
"She's eating a flower."
Annabeth laughs, forcing herself to lean forwards to pull the flower from her baby's tiny fist. It's surprisingly difficult, and whoever tried to insinuate that it's easy to take candy from a baby must have never interacted with a baby because her daughter holds on tight.
"I know," Percy says, laughing at his wife's second attempt to pull a flower from their daughter. "Mommy's so mean. She should let you eat the flower."
"You're not helping," she says, looking at him over her shoulder. He's leaned back, like he has no intention of helping her take a flower away, and he's actually rather amused and enjoying the view.
"Should've let her eat it," he tells her playfully, but he looks around her at their baby and says, "Aria, give mom the flower."
It's not like the eight-month-old understands, but her dad speaking to her is enough to distract her. She lets go of the pink flower, choosing to crawl her way to Percy. She's still learning to stand, so her fist winds up in Percy's shirt so she can pull herself up to her feet.
Annabeth watches for a moment, flower in hand, and she is completely in love. Her daughter has Percy's eyes, which is only slightly unfair after being pregnant for so long, but she can't be too upset. She looks into her daughter's eyes and sees something beautiful.
She thought she could never be more in love with Percy, but that changed the second she saw her daughter's eyes.
"You're thinking too hard," Percy says, tilting his head. "What's going on in your head?"
"I'm thinking about how we ended up here."
Everyone has their story, and this is theirs. The butterfly effect is an interesting concept. One small thing can unravel into something so unbelievable, so beautiful. She never saw it coming, but she supposes no one ever does.
"It went something like you hopping my fence in those pretty dresses of yours."
Annabeth eyes him up and down. "Well, hopping something definitely got me here."
Percy gasps, covering Aria's ears. She just gives her dad a toothless smile.
Annabeth groans and stands up, moving the few steps to end up back at Percy's side. She gazes down at them and wonders how she made it this far in life without them.
"Why don't you sit?" Percy asks. He grabs her hand. "Come on."
She obliges, curling her legs beneath her. Annabeth would be lying if she said she didn't gloat when her daughter tears herself away from Percy. She smiles in her husband's face, hand pressed to her daughter's back.
"I changed my mind," Percy says dryly. "You can leave us alone."
"What's wrong?" Annabeth gives him a mocking pout. "You're just bitter because she loves me more."
"You really do steal everything."
"I thought that was why you loved me?"
Percy sighs, but she can tell he's not upset. It's written in the way his eyes sparkle, in the little twitches his lips give before they break into a lopsided grin.
"This is payback for her being the splitting image of you."
"She has your hair," Percy offers.
It's Percy's turn to sit back and watch. She doesn't let him know, but she's captivated by the way he stares at them. Annabeth plays with Aria, tickling her nose with the flower she stole, and realizes that she's not in love with the field at all.
Perhaps what's beautiful about this wildflower field are the things it's offered her. She walked in one day and never had to leave, and now she gets to stay here for the rest of her life. She gets Christmas mornings in the big white house, and summer days by the lake, surrounded by the loves of her life. Even when it's storming, she's the one that gets to kiss him in the rain, and she gets to curl up on the couch with their little family. His mom comes by a lot too, and Annabeth really feels like his mom is her own. His mom had moved out since they first met, choosing to remarry, but she was around often, and Annabeth loved every moment of it.
"Where are you going?" Annabeth asks when Percy stands up.
"I figured I may as well pick flowers for my favorite girls," he says, stretching his back. "Destroying my field one flower at a time, you know?"
Annabeth snickers, waving at him with Aria's tiny hand.
She looks down when her daughter begins to babble, and Annabeth coos, brushing her daughter's curls back. They glisten in the sunlight, and Annabeth finds another reason to love it here.
"Get baby's breaths," Annabeth calls out, laughing at Percy's confused expression before he realizes she means the flowers. She's thrown back to the past, to that first day she met him, and it's like nothing's changed. His shoulders are broad, and he's so pretty in the sun, his dark hair a contrast to the rest of the field. He picks flowers slowly, forming a bouquet that's not too big, but still gorgeous.
He gets down on one knee a few moments, like he did a few years before, and holds the bouquet out to her. It's filled with flowers she doesn't recognize and baby's breaths, of course.
"Marry me," he says, playfully.
Annabeth shoves his shoulder. "I already did."
"Then do it again."
Annabeth snatches the flowers from his hand before whacking him with them, laughing. Aria bounces in her lap, giggling and babbling on, but Annabeth is focused on the flower boy she fell in love with.
"I do," she says, smiling adoringly.
And so Percy kisses her once. This is her home, and this is her life. She's managed to find heaven in a wildflower, and she never has to leave.
Annabeth loves this life she's built with a green-eyed flower boy in the middle of a wildflower field.
She knows he does too when he murmurs against her lips, "I love you, flower thief,"