A/N: Hey guys! Back again with an update! Sorry for missing last week, I had a How We Could Have Met 2 update instead. Anyway, hope you like this one!

Time always feels weird around this time of year. That odd week after Christmas and before New Years where time doesn't quite feel real and it's hard to tell what day or dimension it is.

Percy blames this strange feeling of disconnectedness on that. It feels like time has just skipped from one holiday to the next and everything in between has just been a blur of blonde hair, kisses, and Oreos.

Maybe it's because Nico's halfway across the country and the emptiness of the apartment makes it feel like, for the first time since September, things are slowing down. He's overcome with a feeling of exhaustion, as if time itself is catching up to him.

It's times like this, when his mind gets too messy and he feels detached from the world, that he picks up his pen or grabs his laptop to write and— he can't remember the last time he wrote anything.

It's like a slap in the face, and suddenly, the feeling of a thread unraveling makes so much sense. How had he let himself get to this state?

He starts to pace, frantically trying to recall the past few months and what's been happening in his life. Work, Annabeth, hanging out with Nico, Annabeth, seeing his family, and going out with Annabeth.

She really has made a place in his life, the thought brings a smile to his face. In fact, Annabeth's place in his life is even better than he could have ever hoped for.

But the moment of respite doesn't last long. His fingers still itch for a pen, pencil, keyboard, anything. His mind is still just as messy. The urge to write is strong and yet, there's an opposing force that tells him there's just too much and he won't be able to get anything down.

Torn in two pieces, fighting the side of him that's starting to feel hopeless as he digs around to even find his notebook, he tells himself it's not true.

He can do it, he needs to write. And, he snipes at the stubborn voice in the back of his head, he has not forgotten how.

The last entry is dated from September, and his mind gets even messier as if making up for lost time. He supposes it's because he's been spending the time living his life instead of, for lack of a better phrase, documenting it. Most people would be happy with that, and it's not that he isn't grateful.

But he's a writer at heart, and he needs his time away from the world so he can immortalize it with words that could never do it justice.

His mind tugs at him, wanting to capture everything, the beauty, the horror, the complexities, everything that makes up the human experience, what we call life.

He picks up his pen and starts to write.

-.-

Annabeth is a little concerned when her boyfriend doesn't show up after his usual ten minute lateness and checks her phone for any updates. There are none.

Five more minutes go by and she feels herself get restless. It wouldn't normally be as concerning but she already has a twinge of nervousness since they're supposed to do a late Christmas gift exchange and one of her presents is a little...different.

Five more minutes, no new texts, and she's worried now. Taking a deep breath, she tells herself, no big deal, just send him a text.

She does and another five minutes go by before she stands up from her position on the couch and sends another one.

Now it's just concern. It's been almost a half hour and no word from him about what's going on. She even scrolls through their text conversation from earlier to confirm that it's the correct time and day.

The anxiety grows and she knows she needs to do something, so she calls him. It rings through to voicemail.

Her mind decides to jump to all the horrible things that could have happened—what if he's hurt, or lost or—

Breathe. She takes a breath and tries to reason that, most likely, he had fallen asleep or something. She nods to herself, confirming her theory. That's probably it. He had meant to take a small nap but had overslept.

It takes another five minutes, but she's calm again.

But then all the other emotions flood in. The hurt at being forgotten about (not on purpose, she reminds herself) but it doesn't soften it, and then the brief anger that flares for a second before turning into sadness because she misses him.

She realizes then just how prominent he is in her life. They haven't seen each other in four days, which is honestly not that bad at all, but she's spent the past two with her family, and as always, it's been…a lot.

This Christmas hadn't been as bad as others, but after meeting Percy's family, the difference was so stark that it had truly made her feel even more off. Leave it to Percy to worm his way into places he wasn't even at.

Her phone buzzes, and she grabs it immediately, so sure it's him.

It's Frank wishing her a belated Merry Christmas. As much as she likes Frank, she wishes it had been Percy. Speaking of, it's been 45 minutes and no update from him.

She shivers in the stupid lacy red lingerie she had bought for the occasion, and the anger and hurt return so quickly, she finds herself blinking back tears, because suddenly this feels all too much like being abandoned...again.

She swears she's over all that shit from the past, over Luke and her friends and all those people who had left her. She's fine now, she's better now. She has people who will never leave, like Piper and Frank who've stayed past the end of college.

But in that moment, in the cold and anticipation, the hurt just feels stronger. She blinks back more tears and wraps a blanket tightly around herself.

She gets out her laptop and opens up the one thing that had helped her before.

She blinks her way through a Youtube video.

-.-

By the time Percy finally puts his pen down, his hand is cramped, but his mind feels as clear as the night sky before him.

He lets out a deep breath, exhausted but satisfied in a way he hasn't felt in a long time.

It isn't till he picks up his phone does he realize he's an hour and fifteen minutes late to see Annabeth.

Adrenaline and fifteen different curse words course through his mind as he runs out of his apartment. He's at her door in less than a minute, knocking furiously.

The door opens to a sober Annabeth wrapped in a fluffy blanket. He didn't know it was possible to feel worse than he already does, but the sight of her slightly smudged makeup and tired look makes his heart drop even further.

"Oh my god Annabeth," he says, moving towards her. "I'm so sorry." He stops himself before he actually touches her and she doesn't say anything, silently letting him in.

He gets a sense of déjà vu as he remembers how he rushed to her door after work a couple months ago after leaving her in bed the morning after.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to lose track of time like that I—" she cuts him off.

"It's okay," she says in a low voice. "It happens."

He winces at the words. Her resignation hurts more than anger would have and he actually hates himself.

Slowly, he approaches her, leaning down, and stopping an inch before their lips touch. He doesn't know if it's okay to do this, but he just needs to apologize and ironically, words are failing him. She lets out a small breath and he takes the chance, cupping her face and closing the gap.

She responds to the kiss and he feels a part of him sigh in relief. He tugs her closer, deepening it for another second before pulling away.

"I am really sorry," he whispers.

"What happened?" she asks quietly.

"I,um...I got caught up in my writing…" He shoots her an apologetic look.

The answer seems to surprise her and she leans back a little, looking curious. "Oh, how'd it go?"

He starts rambling as they head towards the couch. "Good, actually really good. I haven't written since September and I just had a lot to get out. My mind gets all messy if I don't write for a while and it got to be too much earlier that I just had to write so I sat down and started and completely lost track of time and probably developed arthritis."

He forces his mouth to close as she takes in what he just said. Nodding, she lets out a sigh. "It's okay. I can't be upset about you taking the time to do something you love." A hard look enters her eyes as she adds, "I'm not going to be that girlfriend."

She says it as if she's proving something to someone, maybe herself, but he knows she's not like that.

He takes her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. "I appreciate that, but if I committed to a time, I should have been more aware and stuck to it." He knows what it's like to be on the receiving end of someone forgetting about commitments. It's hard not to take it personally.

She smiles for the first time and he thinks he can finally breathe again. "It's okay, Percy. We all make mistakes." She nods towards the mini tree she had set in the corner of her apartment, a lone gift underneath it. "Why don't you open your gift."

For the second time, he curses. "I forgot yours at my place in my rush to get here!"

She rolls her eyes. "It's fine Percy, give it to me later, now open yours!"

He can't help but smile at the look on her face and obliges by walking to the tree and getting his present. It's perfectly wrapped and he feels a bit bad for ripping through it and opening the box to reveal a silky smooth tie in his favorite shade of blue.

And even though it's just a tie, he can tell it's a good quality and the color is so on point. He looks up to see Annabeth eyeing him expectantly with a hint of nervousness.

He immediately leans in and kisses it off her face. "It's great, thank you Annabeth." He whispers when they pull apart.

She smiles. "I'm glad you like it. I know it's a bit basic, but—"

He kisses her again and feels the familiar tug in his gut as he pulls her even close. He runs his tongue over bottom lip, asking for permission, because has it really been five days since he had been able to kiss her?

Instead of letting him in, she pulls away, leaving the both of them panting and Percy extremely worried that something was up.

"There's more," Annabeth explains, biting her lower lip. "To your present, I mean."

It's the third curveball of the day and he shakes his head. "What? Annabeth you didn't have to—"

His words cut off when she drops her blanket.

A/N: And there you have it! Some healthy conflict resolution feat. An accurate portrayal of being a writer. Also the part of established relationship that sometimes doesn't get documented in fics. (I've tried to make this fic feel as real as possible)

I hope you guys liked it! Please Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

And as always, thanks for reading!

See ya! :)