"Can I tell you a secret?" Rachel prompted suddenly. The food before her lay untouched.
"Of course," Annabeth assured, halting the clatter of her utensils.
They had agreed to take lunch in Rachel's room, the way they had when they were children. Annabeth couldn't help but notice how much they had changed since then.
"I—" Rachel struggled, her gaze tracing languid circles around her plate. She closed her mouth, swallowing back her words.
"What is it?" Annabeth asked, frowning slightly but trying not to appear overbearing. That hadn't exactly worked for her in the past.
"I've been spending a lot of time alone lately," Rachel explained slowly. "And it's given me a lot of time to think. And I—I'm not sure how to say this but… I'm having doubts."
"Doubts?" Annabeth echoed, her heart stilling in her chest. "About Percy?"
"Not necessarily," Rachel remarked evasively. "About everything."
Annabeth inhaled shallowly, forcing her features to remain impassive as she considered the electrifying possibility.
Did her sister know something? Had she begun to unravel the mystery of her family's history just like Annabeth had? Perhaps she wasn't alone on this journey. Perhaps her sister would stand by her side as their world crumbled around them.
"Everything?" Annabeth repeated in question, trying not to grow too excited.
"Yeah," Rachel shrugged loosely, her posture slumped. She didn't seem eager to share.
"I totally understand," Annabeth assured her, offering her an understanding expression. "I—I feel the same way."
"Really?" Rachel pressed, glancing up at her from beneath her lashes. Hope danced across her jade irises. "God, I've felt so alone for the past few weeks."
"Not at all," Annabeth frowned, leaning forward, barely able to contain herself.
She wasn't alone, after all. Rachel had been by her side this whole time. She should have trusted her. She should have believed in her.
"Though, I suppose you probably know better than I do," Annabeth remarked, praying she didn't sound resentful.
Rachel smile quirked but didn't fall. She tilted her head, looking a little bemused.
"They tell you more," Annabeth supplied clumsily in explanation.
"I just—" Rachel inhaled deeply. "I don't know—I look out onto the gardens, and I'm so happy. I can't imagine being confined to this castle for the rest of my life."
Annabeth's confidence wavered. Perhaps the castle was a metaphor for misinformation?
"And when I'm with Percy," Rachel continued, oblivious to the lurch in Annabeth's stomach. "I feel normal. And I just want to lean forward and kiss him, but I can't. I can't because I'm constantly held to this ridiculous standard."
Annabeth's breath caught uncomfortably, bending to the pressure of her lungs. They were clearly discussing two very different struggles, but that wasn't what concerned her at the moment.
"You haven't kissed?" she inquired as innocently as she could. She was barely breathing, inexplicably worried she might miss her sister's next words.
"We have," Rachel told her casually.
Annabeth's chest sunk, but she couldn't tell if it was relief or dread—or quite possibly, both.
"But just barely," Rachel expounded. "Not properly. I haven't felt—I haven't felt that fire that I wanted to."
Annabeth nodded, feigning a smile. Of course, they'd kissed. They were engaged. She was foolish for thinking they hadn't.
"He says we can't," Rachel supplied with a roll of her eyes. It was the most at ease Annabeth had seen her in months. "He doesn't want to do anything that might jeopardize our union."
"Mhm," Annabeth hummed, trying to remember what they'd been talking about in the first place, attempting to pinpoint just how she'd gotten herself in this conversation.
"I'm surprised you feel the same way," Rachel remarked lightly, finally picking at her food for the first time that afternoon.
Her eyes were filled with an innocence Annabeth hadn't seen in weeks. She'd almost forgotten she'd missed it.
"Yes," Annabeth smiled. Not able to crush the blossoming image before her.
"I guess it's silly," Rachel chuckled to herself, her gaze dropping to her plate. "We all feel like imposters sometimes—but you always just seemed so… fit for this life."
"Yeah," Annabeth offered faintly.
"I used to envy it actually," Rachel shook her head, shaky humor pouring into her words. "I should have known. I suppose I just felt guilty. There are hundreds of girls out there who dream of being princesses and I feel utterly ungrateful for—for not."
"Mhm," Annabeth returned weakly, forcing a pleasant expression.
"Let's have dinner tonight," Rachel suggested brightly, a wide grin spreading across her lips. "You, me, Percy, and Luke—to celebrate the future. One day it'll be just us."
"That's—" Annabeth began, unsure how to tell her sister that was very possibly her personal idea of hell on earth.
"Perfect," Rachel interjected excitedly. "I'll have the cooks prepare on of your favorites. Let's celebrate tonight. We don't celebrate nearly enough."
In the end, Annabeth said nothing, just curved her lips. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, but not as much as her chest hurt from lying.
…
"I've been meaning to talk to you," Luke told her, an amused expression tugging at his lips. "I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise?" Annabeth breathed shakily, wrapping herself around his outstretched arm.
"Yes," he nodded, his eyes dancing with glee as he led her down the corridor to the dining room.
Somehow, the day had flown by at lethargic speed.
She supposed it had to do with the hour she spent at her desk, staring at the letter she'd received from her informant. It was from when she'd requested books about the Jackson family. The very letter she now suspected had been intercepted by her mother.
Was it any surprise all she found in her texts were economic benefits?
Every family had dirty secrets, even hers. She had just always assumed she was aware of them. Not all of them, but the worst of them at the very least.
Her mother had always been the protecting type—or maybe controlling was a better word for it. It wasn't unimaginable that she might try to protect her delicate sensibilities. Still, though, her interception didn't account for the pages missing in Tales and Trial and Strife.
Apart from her restless thoughts, the remainder of the day had whizzed past Annabeth in a flurry of Luke's simpering smiles and Rachel's elated remarks. It felt familiar, dousing her in a wave of bittersweet nostalgic. They turned joyously around her, and she only smiled, unable to relax because she had a secret, weighing on her with every step.
She had even begun glancing over her shoulder in the castle—in her castle. It was supposed to be her home. She'd always felt safe and comforted behind the thick stone walls. Something had changed when Percy arrived. Like something clicked in her gears and cogs, spurring them to motion.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Luke remembered as they neared the doors to the banquet hall. "Have you any idea how much longer your parents will be delayed?"
"No," Annabeth shook her head.
"I think it should only be a few days, they just rode through Andalucia," he reasoned.
Annabeth felt her breath fade into nothingness as she took in the information. Why where they in Andalucia? It wasn't anywhere near Atlantis.
"We ought to find out though," Luke continued. "I've spoken to my father and he's assured me that I can remain here until they return but—we should really begin to lay forth a plan for the future."
Annabeth felt her fingers tense around his arm and cringed inwardly, knowing he'd felt it.
"What do you mean?" she asked
"I mean," Luke expounded, holding back a frown. "What are we waiting for? Don't you want to be married?"
"Luke," Annabeth struggled to remain stoic. "Don't you think it's a bit premature?"
"Premature?" Luke repeated with a chuckle. They were just footsteps away from the banquet hall now. "Annabeth, we've been betrothed since our infancy. What about this feels premature?"
"I—I'm not sure," Annabeth told him quickly, her heart stuttering uncomfortably as he motioned for the guards to open the doors. "Let's discuss this later. We have guests to attend to."
"Guests," Luke scoffed but said nothing else as the doors opened and they stepped through them.
Percy and Rachel were already seated at the table, laughing heartily. They looked up at the sound of their entrance. Percy motioned to stand, but Rachel put her hand on his forearm, stilling him.
"There's no need," she assured him with smiling eyes. "We're all family here. It's time we begin treating each other as such."
"Yes," Luke agreed, pulling Annabeth a little closer. "Family."
"Family," Annabeth echoed softly, her heart stuttering uncomfortably at the feeling of Percy's eyes on her.
Rachel and Percy were seated next to each other, leaving the head of the table conspicuously absent. Annabeth moved past it, allowing Luke to draw a seat for her across from her sister. He sat down next to her a second later.
"I was just telling Percy about how we used to torment our tutor," Rachel explained happily.
Annabeth's heart sank even though it was a happy memory. This was what Rachel wanted. A happy family. Everyone together. It was what Annabeth used to want. But if she didn't want it anymore, then what did she want?
"Ah," Annabeth forced an amused expression, realizing she'd been quiet for too long. "Yes. We really were horrible, weren't we?"
"She had the funniest little accent," Rachel expounded gleefully, leaning forward with enthusiasm. "Elongated all her o's in the strangest way."
"We used to pretend we didn't understand her," Annabeth chuckled, unexpected warmth spilling into her chest at the memory.
Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe this was what she wanted. Yes. She wanted this. She wanted to be a family again. What had ever caused her to doubt that?
Then he spoke, ruining her fantastic delusions.
"Where was she from?" Percy asked lightly.
Annabeth flicked her eyes towards him for the first time this evening—for the first time all day. His lips were quirked up at the corners, his cheeks were rosy with life, and his eyes—his eyes—weren't on her.
They were on Rachel. Her stomach twisted.
"Oh, somewhere far away, I think," Rachel guessed with a casual shrug. "I don't quite remember." She turned to Annabeth with expectant eyes.
"Yes," Annabeth agreed clumsily. "Far away. Not sure where though."
"Odd," Luke remarked with an easy grin. "Were there no fit tutors here?"
"Oh, you know father," Rachel rolled her eyes, waving a hand around as she spoke. "He's always been like that. He insisted on hiring outsiders, said they would offer new perspectives."
"Yes," Annabeth concurred softly, noticing the way Percy's eyes glinted with thought at her sister's words.
Was she missing something? They had offered new perspectives. Besides, it wasn't as if their tutors had never lacked knowledge; they'd overflowed with lessons and literature.
Luke's finger's brushed over her powder blue pulse point for a prolonged moment, and she froze. She blinked, breaking from her thoughts to direct her bemused gaze towards him. He beamed at her in return.
She bit her cheek, turning back to the table. She didn't feel hungry anymore. This conversation was already too confusing without Luke making things worse.
"Interesting," Percy commented airily, fixing Rachel with a bright-eyed curiosity. Annabeth couldn't tell if it was forced or if she just wanted it to be.
"Annabeth was the worst to her though," Rachel laughed, nostalgia washing over her features. "Constantly asking her for further assignments or extra readings. She would have to scramble together additionally exercises at ungodly hours."
Annabeth managed a chuckle, hoping it didn't sound contrived.
"Sounds like my Annabeth," Luke grinned, sliding the tiniest bit closer to her. "Always the bookworm, weren't you?"
"I just like to learn," Annabeth explained simply, feeling an unreasonable urge to defend herself. "It's important to read."
"Of course," Luke nodded. "If our children are a fraction as curious, other nations should cower."
Annabeth had spent her entire upbringing learning remain impassive even when someone threatened her, but something about Luke's words sent her over the edge. She choked on nothing at all, falling over to try and catch her breath.
"Are you alright?" Luke frowned.
No, she wanted to exclaim, cry, scream—but "yes," she said.
"I cannot wait to have a family," Rachel continued after Annabeth's cough had died down. "Though the thought of raising a family in a castle, beneath my own rule is utterly nerve-wracking."
Annabeth wasn't really listening, still reeling. She wasn't sure why Luke's words had affected her so. She'd always known they'd have children. It was what everyone expected of her after all. She supposed she'd never considered it would be so soon. They weren't even engaged, much less married. Besides, her mind had been wracked with rebel attacks and conspiracies for weeks. Was it really any surprise she hadn't given much thought to their future children?
"Annabeth understands though," Rachel said then, breaking her from her trance.
Annabeth struggled not to look lost, completely unaware of what they were talking of. They were all staring at her. She had to say something.
"Yeah," she supplied in the end with a smile. "Of course."
She wasn't sure what she'd agreed to, but it seemed to be enough for Rachel dipped her head in agreement and Luke put his hand over hers. She watched Percy's fingers twitch across the table.
"I think it's tough to know," Luke remarked thoughtfully, his digits curling around her stiff ones. "It's a group effort, but I think parenting with a strong hand is always undeniably effective."
Oh god. What had she agreed to?
"I'm not sure," Annabeth cut in, trying to act the slightest bit normal. "A strong hand can be dangerous. It can feel suffocating, sometimes."
Luke quirked his brow, like he didn't quite understand, but didn't comment further.
"Tell me more stories of your childhood," Percy interjected, and only then did Annabeth realize he'd been oddly silent during their discussion. His twitching fingers had shifted to his goblet of wine, lifting it to his lips. "I find them positively captivating."
Annabeth's breath caught, a gasp trapped uncomfortably in her lungs. She ran her tongue across her teeth, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the feeling to cease.
It never did.
…
Luke escorted her back to her room that night, his hand on the small of her back, apparently embolden by her reactions at dinner.
Annabeth could tell by the lilt of his voice that he was put at ease by dinner, any animosity had faded.
"Shall I give you your surprise tonight?" Luke asked her as they approached her dormitory.
"Tomorrow?" Annabeth offered as they came to a halt before the doors. She turned towards him. "I'm afraid I'm quite tired."
"Of course," Luke agreed, taking her hands in his. He held them to his chest as a slow smile slid over his face. "Sweet dreams, your Highness."
Annabeth fought the tremble in her features at the mention of her title. It had always brought her pride but something seem to have changed.
"Goodnight," she bid him quietly, her gaze dropping to his lapels as she considered her reaction. What had changed?
She turned to go, slipping out of his grasp when he tightened his grip, tugging her back towards him. She looked up, surprised to find him so close when he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss lasted barely a second, just a tender brush of lips, but she couldn't help but stiffen.
"Goodnight," Luke grinned toothily, letting her go.
Annabeth blinked dumbly and forced a smile before rushing into her room. Once the doors had closed behind her, she collapsed onto her bed. She could hear Luke's loud steps as he retreated back to his room. She shut her eyes, finding solace in the familiar darkness.
She knew she was acting foolish, losing herself in delusional thoughts and ridiculous fantasies. She really ought to take her own advice and not let men control her. It was hard though, when everyone seemed to know more than her. Even Luke had outside contact with his father.
She thought of what he'd mentioned earlier. Her parents had passed through Andalucia. Did Luke know something she didn't? He wasn't surprised by the information—not that he ought to have been, but he should have been confused at the very least. He knew they were meant to be in Atlantis tending to a local rebellion. Why hadn't he said something sooner?
Annabeth heard the telltale sound of her teeth grinding involuntarily and stilled her jaw.
I hope you are keeping your sister and you safe, her mother's letter had read.
How was she meant to keep Rachel safe if the world seemed to turn around her? How was Annabeth meant to know who the true enemy was when she could hardly determine her friends?
She sighed, turning her head to the side. She really was tired, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Instead, she would just lie back as her mind spun in circles. The same way it had for the past few nights. She would replay her sister's whispers, haunting stories echoing through her mind. She would recall the ease with which her blade had sunk into her attacker's stomach, considering the implications. She would remember the feeling of Percy's lips on her neck, brushing her collarbone, meeting hers—and try to forget.
Her eyes landed on the pile of books neatly stacked on her bedside table. How many of them had her mother deemed too dangerous for her?
Annabeth bit her lip, an idea building in her chest.
She needed to know how deep her mother's influence flowed, and if Luke's information was to be believed, she only had a few more days until her parents returned. If she wanted the truth, she would have to seek it out herself.
Before she had time to consider the consequences, she was up on her feet, smoothing her skirt before striding out the door.
…
She sat in the library for nearly two hours, watching the flame atop her candle dwindle until it faded into nothingness. Her patience seemed to go with it.
Had she been more secure, she might have returned to her room and devised a new plan, she might have acted the slightest bit more rationally. Instead, she stormed out of the library, careful not to step too loudly as she rushed through the dim castle corridors. She knew them by heart, she barely had to look. Besides, there was something oddly comforting about the shroud of darkness blanketing her movements.
She swallowed thickly as she passed the hallway where she'd lost herself a few nights ago. Their moment had been a fleeting lapse of judgment, a clandestine second in an inexhaustible pool of time.
A soft chill swept over the exposed skin of her collarbone, sending a shudder tumbling down her spine. She thought of his touch; his fingertips had just barely grazed her skin. Annabeth sucked in a ragged breath, recalling the way she'd been forced to watch his finger's brush over Rachel's at dinner. A rosy blush had spread across her sister's face and a simpering smile had slid over her lips—and still, all that Annabeth could think of was the way his touch had skated up her thighs.
Rachel said they hadn't kissed—not properly—not as they had. She struggled with the meaning of the distinction. Was she special? Or just disposable? She hoped it was the latter. It would be easier, in the long run.
She pivoted around the corner, appearing at Percy's dormitory door. She swallowed thickly, gathering the courage to enter. She had to if she wanted the truth. Besides, she'd been entirely too caught up in her thoughts lately.
"You're needed in the kitchens," she told the guards standing outside his doors. "There has been some kind of combustion. The cook is in need of assistance."
They both frowned, glancing at each other confusedly.
"She's waiting," Annabeth pressed with an authoritative glare.
They nodded, bounding away as a clatter of metal echoed through the hall. She took a deep breath, forcing herself not to think twice before she threw open the door.
"What in the hell—" Percy spat, eyes wide and shocked as he tripped over himself, struggling to cover his bare chest.
Annabeth inhaled sharply, averting her eyes. She felt her cheeks flush involuntarily, swallowing back a mumbled apology.
"Don't guards ever announce anyone here—no, what are you doing here—"
"I need your help," she declared, reaching over to his dresser and throwing him a white shirt, pretending she wasn't affected by the sight of him. It wasn't as if she'd never seen a man in a state of undress before, but it been years. And even then, it had never been in such close quarters.
"At midnight?" he scoffed, shrugging the thin material over his shoulders.
"Yes," Annabeth affirmed, curling her fingers into a tight fist and lifting her chin. She wouldn't lose her nerve now.
"And you couldn't bother your fiancé with your meaningless quandaries?" Percy sneered, crossing his arms and leaning back against his bed.
"He's not my fiancé—" Annabeth answered automatically, rolling her eyes. She cut herself off, trying to reason with her more rational self. He was just stunned by her enterance so late. There was no reason to be hostile, especially if she wanted him to accept her offer.
Then she met his eyes. They were half-lidded, glinting with skepticism and—jealousy she realized with an inadvertent bark of laughter.
"You're jealous," she pronounced clearly, mouth falling open in disbelief.
"I'm not," Percy breathed, obviously annoyed. "I just don't enjoy being disrupted at ungodly hours."
"Ungodly," Annabeth echoed, her heartrate spiking in the face of conflict.
"Why are you here?" he reiterated, his gaze examining her figure. She was still dressed in her daywear.
She considered her options as he weighed her appearance. She knew nothing was out of the ordinary anyway, nothing to worry about, even if his lingering eyes did make her skin prick.
She could ask him directly, request he take her into town but he wouldn't understand why it was so imperative. She could always order him to do it, but she didn't think he'd react well to that. Besides, something about the thought of him bending before her left a bad taste in her mouth. She could leave, tell him nothing and go. It was probably the most rational course of action given his current demeanor, but she had a more pressing question on her mind.
"Why didn't you come to the library?" she asked, hating the waver of her voice.
He frowned, his gaze glittering uncomfortably. "Because I didn't need a book," he replied stiffly.
The candlelight flickered.
"I waited."
She watched his eyes flutter helplessly at her words.
"Am I meant to apologize?" he replied sharply.
"No," Annabeth exhaled through gritted teeth. Her gaze fell to his billowing shirt. It seemed to dance in the dim lighting. "I just—" she sighed, unsure how to express herself—unsure why she was expressing herself in the first place. "I'm so confused. I don't know who to trust. Every turn, I find myself facing a new foe."
"A foe is better than an enemy," Percy reasoned, taking a step towards her.
"Are we really enemies?" Annabeth chuckled, but the sound held no humor. Her eyes traced the three little buttons that lay open over his torso. "After everything."
"You seemed quite intent on framing us as such," Percy told her, stopping a foot before her.
Her fingers twitched to reach out for him but she knew it was wrong. She raised her eyes to meet his. He was watching her with a guarded expression. She shouldn't tell him anything. She knew that—albeit weakly. But the candlelight was reflecting off the bright blue-green of his irises, making them glimmer with hidden curiosity. She wanted to tell him. She wanted him to understand—desperately.
Even if she shouldn't.
"Have you ever felt like your world is crumbling around you?" Annabeth asked softly, her words scarcely traveling the distance between them. "Like everything you've ever known is fuzzy, a hazy dream you made up."
He was silent. She observed him breathe shallowly, his chest scantily rising.
"Have you ever felt like you can't trust anyone," she continued, spurred on by the stroke of compassion in his eyes. "Not even yourself?"
"What are you trying to say?" Percy interrupted, jaw tense.
"I don't know," Annabeth shrugged, her gaze falling again. Oddly disappointed. "I can't tell you why exactly, but I feel like I'm drowning and I don't know which way is up anymore."
"And what?" Percy questioned, his tone harsher than she'd expected. "I'm supposed to save you?"
"Hardly," Annabeth ground out. Maybe she shouldn't have come here after all. Why did she ever think he'd understand? "You're making this very difficult," she noted sharply. She felt her posture stiffen, discomfort stretching the gaps between her vertebrae. So what if he didn't get it? He didn't have to get it. She didn't need him—well, no, she did need him. But she certainly didn't need his pity. "I know you have a stupid dignitary dinner in town tomorrow."
"And?" he arched a brow, looking her up and down. "You want me to take you?"
"Like I'd ever want to be seen with you," Annabeth returned venomously. She watched his bristle and smiled, feeling as though she'd regained an ounce of control. "No, I want to—well, I've never been out of the castle," she revealed hastily.
"What?" Percy frowned, his features softening. Disbelief flickered over his eyes. "That can't be true."
"You're right," Annabeth dismissed quickly, unreasonably embarrassed. She didn't like admitting her flaws. "I'm being hyperbolic, but it's been years, and I'm—I'm—"
"Afraid?" Percy cut in. She thought she saw sympathy in his expression but didn't trust it.
"No," she rejected savagely. "I'm just worried I might not know the terrain well enough. I want you to come with me."
"Why?" he questioned, gaze narrowed suspiciously.
"I need some new books," she replied evasively, a dismissive lilt to her words. He didn't need to know how profoundly she was beginning to doubt her family.
"Books?" he laughed lazily.
"Yes," Annabeth ground out. "I'm confused, and I need books so—so help me find them."
"Is that an order?" he prompted, arching a brow
"No," Annabeth inhaled delicately with a purse of her lips. "Think of it as a favor."
He stared at her, his eyes glittering with distrust.
Silenced descended over them as she waited for him to answer. She could feel the burn of his gaze as clearly as she remembered his touch. Her heart hesitated, determined to ignore the piercing memories. He'd already seen her in enough compromising positions. She could hardly bear to expose another fault in her facade.
"Why me?" he asked finally.
"I just explained," she swallowed thickly. "I've never been—"
"No," Percy shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why didn't you ask your fiancé to take you? Surely he knows the kingdom better than I do."
His voice trembled ever so slightly, vulnerability slipping into the hollows between his words. She felt its silky sweetness seep into her skin but didn't say anything.
"Keep your enemies close, right?" she supplied airily, finding her throat strangely dry.
She licked her lips, trying to draw moisture to her them.
His eyes fell.
Her breath hitched.
"Right," he confirmed.
Her stomach clenched, her eyes shuttering. She could feel his warmth. She hated it. If she couldn't even trust herself to be around him, how could she trust herself to remain focused tomorrow?
"So you'll do it?" Annabeth managed, trying to reign back in her thoughts.
She thought of Rachel. She thought of Luke. She thought of her parents. She thought of all the lies she'd been fed.
She couldn't afford another weakness. Especially one who could easily have ulterior motives.
"Yes," Percy agreed, and she refocused to find his eyes on her again. "But I want something in return."
Annabeth was tempted to laugh. She should have known he wouldn't do her a simple favor—ulterior motives and all. Did she blame him though? She wouldn't have done it for him.
"What do you want?" she questioned coldly, gritting her teeth.
"I'm not sure," he answered smoothly, his eyes flickering over the bodice of her dress. She fought the ill-timed tremor that enveloped her heart. "But I'm sure I'll think of something."
"Fine," Annabeth groaned, rolling her eyes—half to make a scene, half so that she didn't have to meet his. The blue-green was far too confusing. And she already had enough to be confused about right now. "I'm going to bed," she announced. "I'll be waiting by the stables at eleven tomorrow night."
She turned to leave but Percy's words paused her movements.
"Twelve," he returned. She breathed, pivoting to shoot him an exasperated look. "I won't be back until half-past," he explained, a sly smile playing at his lips.
She nodded, hastily averting her eyes and walking back towards his doors. She hoped his guards hadn't returned yet. She really didn't need any more salacious rumors circulating around the castle, especially with her parents coming home so soon.
Annabeth pulled the door open and sighed in relief at the empty hallway. She glanced back at Percy. He was turned away from her, fiddling with his waistband. She found the clumsy movements oddly endearing.
"Percy," she called to him.
He looked up, meeting her gaze. She felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards before she could tell them not to.
"Thank you."
a/n: sorry sorry for the long wait for this and all of my other stories, just finished finals. they were ass but now im back. I do start working again soon so bleh, but hopefully, I'll be able to keep up these quick updates. and hopefully, the mystery of this story will begin to make sense.
guess if I edited or not (hint: I didn't)
dedicated to Fangirl Shrieks and some place and everyone who leaves me thoughtful rambling reviews, you guys are way too nice to me lol
anyway, love yall
iciao!
