A/N: Hey guys! I apologize in advance for this one,

Here ya go:

Sundays are weird. Things are quieter, shops close early, and even though for most it's a day off there's the feeling of work hanging over the idea of the next day.

It had been a Sunday.

A Sunday when they had met, at the corner of the street, bumped and spilled and helped and mumbled and blushed and apologized and offered.

A Sunday when he might have fallen in love.

A Sunday when she left.

And so there he was on a Sunday at that corner, waiting.

Waiting for what, he did not know. Maybe for her to come back, for a chance to talk, for a glimpse of her face.

They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Maybe he was insane.

But the feel of her lips against his and the way her fingers carded through his hair remained in his mind and he thought that maybe he became insane the moment he met her.

And so he waited, sitting on that corner, waiting for something, waiting for her.

"You need to leave son," the police had said.

"I'm waiting for someone," he had replied. And maybe seeing the look in his eyes the police had taken pity.

So somehow every week, he was there, from sunrise to sunset on Sunday, sitting and waiting and hoping and wishing.

And one day he caught a glimpse of blonde hair that looked like hers and he moved to call out but she disappeared before he could.

He scrambled up and ran after the direction she went, weaving through people and traffic and alleys to catch the glimpse of gold. He only stopped in a field when she slowed down and threw a signature smirk over her shoulder.

He grinned and ran closer, stopping when she did only a few feet apart. Her grey eyes shone, and her smile was soft and warm and felt so much like home.

"Annabeth," he whispered in awe, slowly moving forward.

She held out her hand to stop him and the smile turned a bit sad and her eyes sympathetic. She shook her head lightly.

A sound from behind him caused him to jump and when he turned around to look he saw a figure walking towards the field.

But when he turned back to look at Annabeth she had disappeared again.

His heart rate picked up, he needed to find her again. Where had she run off to now? He searched wildly but before he could move the figure was right behind him.

Jason reached out and put a hand on his shoulder causing Percy to jump again and look at his friend with worry.

"Jason! She's here, I need to find he-let go of me."

Jason just shook his head and smiled sadly like Annabeth had done.

"Percy, she wasn't real."

He felt anger well up inside of him, how dare Jason say such things, how dare-

Why were their tears in his eyes?

Jason gently lead him through the field which was dotted with small stones that Percy couldn't see because his eyes were blurry with tears.

They stopped in front of a rock and Percy finally brushed away enough to read the words written.

Anna-

He stopped after that because it couldn't be true.

He had started sobbing at some point and Jason had pulled him into a half hug in an attempt to comfort him.

After who knows how long they finally left, walking back into the town. Back to the corner.

The corner where he first saw her.

The corner they met on.

On a Sunday.

A/N: So what did you think? Did you like it? I'm sorry :P Vaguely inspired by the song The Man Who Can't Be Moved by the Script. I don't really have a message on this other than, loss is something everyone has to go through in life and what's important is to keep moving on. I may write a sequel to this one if you guys want?

Please Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

And as always, thanks for reading!

See ya! :)