Gah! It's been so long since I've posted. I really miss writing, and hopefully some of you miss reading this.
Okay, quick alert! I have a new story up my sleeves. As soon as I finish this one (like, you know, a million years later) I will immediately come out with that one. However, I SERIOUSLY need someone's help about IM'ing people. Or else I can't contact the person I got the idea from and then there will be overseas copyright laws banging on my door. So, uh, yeah.
Enjoy!
Annabeth woke up to a hand shaking her shoulder, a pale sliver of light striped across her pillow, and birds chirping softly to one another as if they, too, just woke. She shook her head, disoriented. Madame Lark sometimes required her to wake up at the crack of dawn, but if there was a packed night of galas and parties, she could sleep in. So, what was this?
"Miss!" Someone whispered cautiously.
She spun around, but the movement was too quick for her sleep-fogged brain. "Yes?" she croaked, rubbing her eyes.
Once her vision grew clear, she could see Annica standing in front of her in the servants' day gown, twisting the lacy end of her apron around her finger. She was biting down on her lip until Annabeth met her eyes. "Miss!" she exclaimed excitedly, her voice still hushed. "Good morning! I-I have something to deliver."
A pair of birds tweeted outside sharply. Annabeth stared at her maid. "What?"
Annica bit her lip again. "Um, I can't say right now, miss." Her words jumbled together into one incoherent mess. "It's j-just from someone private, miss." She carefully tugged a package out from her apron pocket and shoved it under a corner of Annabeth's blankets. "Hide it soon, miss. Farewell." And then she ran out of Annabeth's room, only pausing to shut her door silently.
Annabeth blinked, stunned. She was a little thrilled at receiving something that was most likely outlawed. She carefully reached under her blanket, her fingers wrapping around a smooth paper package. Whatever was inside was light and crunched slightly. Paper.
She lifted it out of the covers, into the dim light, and felt unwarranted excitement well up in her. Sealing the packaging together was a tiny navy crest, a familiar one of two dolphins curving around a trident. It was from the Poseidon Mansion.
She swallowed a little, as she always did. All the warnings and hate towards him that had been implemented in her since she was a child still existed, faintly. Guilt also tingled in her fingers as she shifted it from hand to hand. She knew she was being a traitor for her family by even touching this.
But Annabeth pushed aside those feelings, as always. She knew, deep in her heart, that she was excited to open this up, and she would. She delicately broke the crest right above her candle, knowing that when it came to lit in the morning, the blue wax would melt alongside with the liquefying tip of the candle, and she could simply pour the murky, colored mess into an ashtray or rubbish bin. Besides, her maids wouldn't tell, not that she offered them many secrets to contain.
Then she carefully lifted up the two folds, trying to not rip it. Finally, smooth letter-writing paper was revealed underneath. She abandoned the packaging on her bedside table and unfolded the letter. Horrible, chicken-scratch handwriting greeted her. She could already catch around five things misspelled in the first sentence.
Annabeth smiled to herself. Percy had an issue with English, she had found out, and it took a while for her to admit that she did, too, but Athena's training had pressed that out of her.
Luckily, she'd received enough of his letters to be able to decipher it. It was a happy, pleasant letter, resonating with sweetness, shyness, and absurd humor, signature to the man she came to know. She had to bit her lip from smiling too much when he wrote about the time he was horseback riding and his playful steed, Blackjack, had flipped him over a fence. She wasn't just smiling at the image. A week or so again, Percy had led her down Poseidon's magnificent stable and picked another spirited horse for her, Porkpie. They had gone riding together, and though Annabeth had cramps all the way down her legs from sitting sidesaddle, it was an incredible afternoon to see Percy and Blackjack fly through the field, a yelling, midnight-colored blur, and to feel Porkpie's muscles rippling under her as she, too, soared.
Afterwards, she caught a dark expression on Percy's face when he was lifting the saddles from their horses, and the bronze crest of Poseidon was gleaming in the lamplight. She opened her mouth to speak, but he gruffly shook his head and dropped them onto their rightful nails.
The same worried feelings swirled in her now, but as she read on and he was talking about one of the tastiest dinner banquets he'd ever been to, the gnawing concern faded and was replaced by a memory of them at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, trying to blend in with their drabbest clothes. But Percy was too clean-shaven, his hair too shiny to really fit in, and he whispered to her that she still looked like a lady in Annica's dusty old gown. They were both blushing too hard, afterwards, to enjoy the delicious chicken pie and glazed cake, small as they were.
The smile on her face was too hard to contain, then. She continued reading as he talked about the huge pyramid of olives and how he knew Annabeth would just love it. She admitted it, she was completely impressed by the way it sounded. And then it was him saying, "Hey, that's just like the afternoon we had in your backyard. It's really pretty, for an olive grove." Her cheeks ached, knowing that she herself had thought of the same thing. He'd shown up with his William Herdwick calling card, and they'd taken a stroll in the small olive grove to the side of her house, their chaperone far behind them in the pale, elegant trees. He'd only taken his hat off for about twenty minutes, but it wiped away all her confusion and anxiety from her meeting with Luke in the morning. A little manmade stream tinkled musically as they walked, and soft silver leaves tickled her face like velvet feathers. The sun streamed in tawny rivers down to the padded grove floor, dappling it with shades of bronze and yellow. It was a beautiful day, when with what happened afterwards.
Annabeth's smile slipped as she remembered hearing loud, crashing footsteps in the serene grove. Her chubby-cheeked little sister burst out of the trees. "Hey, Annie!" she yelled happily. Then she'd glanced at Percy and shrieked, running to grab Annabeth's skirt. "He's the enemy!"
Percy apologized quietly and was about to move aside when her sister looked up with wide gray eyes. "Oh, and, Madame Pointy-nose wants you to know that," she put her hands on her fist and assumed a severe tone, "'if you don't get to her soon and stop frolicking outside like a stupidly wild bear cub, she'll spend the whole night making you wear acidic masks and sitting with a board on your back.'" Then the sharp voice was gone, and the little girl was looking at her curiously. "Annie, what is fraw-licking?" When with her slight lisp, she pronounced it perfectly, just like any Athena girl should.
But Percy was looking at her with his eyes huge and shiny with fear. "Annabeth—" he whispered. "What? Why-why do you have…"
She closed her eyes painfully and held up a hand. "It's nothing." She forced her voice to become convicting. "My teacher is simply threatening. She won't do any of that. Please don't worry." Her voice grew desperate, and she wondered now if that was an unconscious plea for help.
Percy took her hand, the touch urgent through both of their heavy gloves. "Annabeth," he began again, his face twisted with worry.
She forced herself to slide her hand out of his, and immediately regretted it, as her anxiety and fear began to pummel her harder without his comforting touch. "I'm fine." She realized how fake that sounded, and tried again. "I'm going to be alright. Okay?" Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed her sister's hand, spun around, and strode back to the mansion, murmuring a soft goodbye she knew he'd have heard.
With a different kind of ache, now in her heart, she came back to reality. Annabeth stared at the paper, and then her expression softened when she saw that Percy wrote, "Your sister is very cute. And I don't mind what she said." Of course, that was horribly misspelled, but she ignored that and allowed her lips to twitch up slightly. She knew that Percy was talking about what she'd said about him being the enemy, and completely avoiding what happened about Madame Lark. That was uncharacteristic about him, and Annabeth could almost feel his worry coming off the paper in waves, but he knew better than to prod.
How in the world did this person know her so well? Maybe it was just her excitement about being rebellious for the first time, or all her curiosity about him, but she always found herself opening up to him about everything. And he could, just as easily, read her like a book. Meanwhile, he might've been bashful and sometimes stuttering, but sometimes he'd meet her eyes and laugh about things completely personal to him. And they just clicked in the strangest way possible.
But they were total opposites, really. He cared so much about her, his mom, his friends, and so on. Annabeth's deepest secret was rebuilding the world her way and ruling it by herself. He was gentle, she tried to tough things out. She was a mess, sometimes, and he would be her calm and collected rock, offering a warm cookie or murmuring comforting words. And he was secretly, a complete rebel from society's ways, with his own particular manners and ways, and she was… not. Annabeth tried not to sigh and kept reading.
Once his letter was done describing what he'd recently gone through, and a few comments about what they'd done, he moved onto a more eager tone. "Annabeth, I remember you told me that you didn't do anything Thursday mornings, and free then, too." He'd pressed his ink quill a bit harder on that part, and Annabeth immediately zeroed in, her heart racing. What did that mean? She did know that he had a lot of work, because once she'd passed by a messy office with a half-empty glass of milk on the crowded table, and she knew that only one person in the Poseidon mansion could have such a room. She would've said something, but he was scowling when he looked over the tall stacks of paper on the huge mahogany table. That unnerved her slightly, and she had a sure inkling that his expression had something to do with his blurring letters. But his tone afterward was as cheerful as before. "And it's been so long since we'd last seen, can we meet again? It'll just be a short trip. And we don't have anything. So is my house okay?" She smiled at his childlike grammar.
And then it was a stream of byes and see you soons and some nice sentiments. Finally, he'd sloppily signed his name off, using his nickname and even leaving out "Poseidon." It was simply, "Percy Jackson."
Annabeth grinned, thinking it looked incredible. She was folding the paper again when her fingers brushed against something harder on the back. She flipped it around to find a piece of sketching paper adhered there. There was a roughly sketched flower, simply a dandelion, and not extremely talented-looking either. But it was simple, and his little note on the corner, "Make a wish, and I'll try to get it to come true," made it the prettiest drawing she'd seen so far.
She knew she couldn't hide it in a drawer, and she couldn't bear to just throw it out, so she slipped it up the sleeve of her underclothes. She'd be able to take it out from time to time and look at it until she found a hiding spot in her room.
Then she tucked his letter into the bottom of her small stack of collected letters, knowing that no one would bother to go through that. Lastly, yawning a little, she slipped back into bed.
-line break-
One of the things she would never get used to would be travelling this route, out to the countryside. First, she got to see the urban structures melt into wide, never-ending fields and small wooden farmhouses. Next, she got to sit in the carriage completely differently.
Her gown was little and neat, with only a four-layered petticoat underneath of light, handspun linen. The only lace was a little decorating her collar. Her slippers were plain (as if anyone would dare to let her wear her bejeweled slippers on the dirt road) and her jewelry was just some clear stones and a small gray diamond on one hand. Her hair was just done into a braided bun, all her pins the normal, colorless kind.
This wasn't supposed to be a reflection of what she actually wanted to wear, however, or representative of who she tried to be around Percy. Her maids weren't allowed to divert from dressing her "properly" just because she said so. She was only like this because she was out in the countryside. And because no matter how many rumors were running around, everyone still expected her to get engaged to Luke. Lord Herdwick was considered to be a friend, or something along the lines that she supposedly only visited every three weeks.
But she honestly didn't care why, as long as she no longer had to suffer in a too-tight corset and wear lace up to her chin. The handspun skirts were a little rough against her stockings, and the gloves weren't so silky, and she loved her whole outfit.
Finally, the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the house. The footman wordlessly lifted her chaperone out, and then her. She stepped out and paused in the driveway for a moment, breathing in the fresh, cold air. She knew her older brother and the footman were waiting for her, but she couldn't bear to not stop and drink in the familiar country house. It was made of sturdy, painted wood, with antiquely decorated shutters pulled up on top of the front windows. A peek into the dark glass would reveal brightly colored, stuffed furniture, also from ages ago. It was a quirky style Annabeth would also enjoy. She took one last look before talking her brother's hand and allowing herself to be led to the doorstep. He rang the small brass doorbell, and she heard a faint echo of its cheery ring in her ears. A plump, gray-haired housekeeper opened the door and frowned at them. "Who are you, may I ask?" Her steely eyes ran over their stiff, finely made city clothes.
"Company of Lady Athena," the footman intercepted, stepping into view.
Her face immediately broke into a smile, more and more wrinkles getting pulled out of her tan skin. "Oh! Lady Athena! Yes!" She spun around and called, "William! Lord Poseidon!" Then she clapped her hands to her mouth and turned, blushing.
Annabeth wanted to reassure her that being such frequent guests here meant that she knew that secret, but her brother was in view. Exaggeratedly cocking her head, she raised an eyebrow and asked, "Who?"
The housekeeper flapped her hands nervous. "No one, sorry, I got mixed up." She turned and altered her call, "Master Herdwick! Lady Athena is here!"
Annabeth was worrying over how her extremely intelligent brother couldn't have figured this out already when a dark shape appeared at the top of the worn mahogany stairs. Annabeth caught a tint of a familiar smile under the shadow of that hat, and her worries settled. She could barely feel her heart speeding up in her pleasant peacefulness at knowing he was here.
He ascended the stairs gracefully, one lean hand easily skimming the smooth handle. When he finally stepped down in front of them, Annabeth felt a foreign wish to whip off his hat and start talking to him like she always did. But, no, they had a façade to keep up.
"Lady Athena," he intoned in his cover-up deep voice. It resonated inside her, and she shivered slightly as usual. Percy noticed and gestured to one of the nearby servants, who rushed away. "Hello, Lord Athena." He nodded to her brother. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine," her brother said, right on cue in the staccato behavior rules orchestrated. He bowed lightly.
The servant was back, bearing a fine lambskin cloak. The butler, much more higher-ranking, took it from him and smoothly slid it across Annabeth's shoulders. She looked over at Percy, questioning, but he tilted his head slightly, motioning that she could continue their conversation.
"Lady Athena, I am so very glad you can make it."
Annabeth's manner-trained ear lifted. Was he—this was light, amicable talk between friends! She could barely hide her smile behind her hand as she replied, "Thank you, Lord Herdwick." A neat curtsy. "As am I, to be here. The trip was fine. We saw great views."
"It is good to hear that. Do you want to head upstairs for some refreshments? I have a new shipment of tea, and lots to talk about."
"Yes, that'll be wonderful." She fell into step beside him, the soft swish of her slippers somehow matching with his clicking boots. "And, oh my, a new shipment? From where?"
He glanced in her direction. "Up north, in the colder lands. But this won't be the best-tasting yet. I've heard that the tea leaves that survive the winter taste the best."
"'Tis interesting." She tried to keep her tone neutral, but her mind was whirling. Was this a reference to that afternoon in the Demeter gardens? Where she caught a glimpse of the actual him? Where the faint fragrance of bright fall flowers danced around them like a silk sheet undulating in the wind? "I would love to try some."
He must've seen the glint in her eyes from thinking so much, and leaned down slightly so she could see the teasing smirk on his lips. That's a yes, then. His hand slipped into his pocket, and then, so smoothly it was like he did this for a living, he folded something soft and tiny into her hand. Discreetly hiding her palm behind her fan, she peeked into her fist. It was a tiny pansy: two layers of delicate lavender, then indigo petals, with tiny black lines drawn at the center, and then a sun-yellow drop in the middle. A smile tugged uncontrollably at the corner of her lips. She slipped it under her glove, onto the skin of her palm, and luxuriated in the satiny feel. Annabeth glanced up at Perseus from the corner of her eyes and murmured, "Do you have a secret garden in the back?"
He smiled at her. "No," he whispered back, "just a best friend who lives in the Demeter Estate."
She had to bite the inside of her lips by now. "Oh, okay."
In the back of her mind, it occurred to her that to any other viewer, they would've looked like a classic couple. A tall, striking gentleman, his arm firm but careful around hers, and an elegant, made-up Victorian lady, smiling dotingly up at him.
But, of course, that image wasn't to last long with Perseus' sincerely humorous jokes, and Annabeth's stilted manners. They strode to the end of the hallway, and without removing his arm from hers, smoothly slid the door open. The furniture was arranged in the way that they were used to now: their couch facing the window, just slightly tilted so Percy's arm could be seen and no suspicions would be raised. Behind the hard, velvet-covered back, was two armchairs for her chaperone and some distraction that Perseus himself came up with.
He politely stayed in the doorway, holding a hand out for her older brother, his fingers causally turned towards the wingback chair. Her brother nodded, gave a curt smile, and settled in there. He slightly extended his hand, another wordless gesture asking them to continue. They went over to the couch, and Annabeth sank into the worn, sun-bleached cover, releasing a comforted sigh. The maid came in, and behind her, a little girl, who was probably the cook's daughter. She looked suspiciously like the child Annabeth's sister-in-law was expecting.
Annabeth turned to Percy, an eyebrow raised. "What are you planning?" she hissed.
He just grinned as the elderly maid hunched over, pouring their tea. The young girl waved and beamed at Annabeth's brother, who looked surprised and faintly affronted. "Uh, hullo here," he muttered.
"Hi!" She grinned, dimples huge in her cheeks. "What's your name?"
"Um, Marcus Corrington, Athena. Pleased to meet you." He dipped his chin, his pale cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment and confusion.
"Oh, okay!" She twirled one of her brown pigtails. "I'm Elina!"
Annabeth could barely hold in a laugh as she cast a look at Percy, who looked extremely proud. "Come on, Annabeth, aren't I brilliant?"
She rolled her eyes. "I don't know how that would work—" She was cut off by Perseus taking off his hat. The morning sun caused each strand of hair to gleam like polished ebony, and every ring of jewel color, circling his dark pupils, was lit. He flashed a quick grin at her, oblivious to her gaping, and leaned down to pick up his teacup.
She self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and poured a drip of cream into her dark tea before sipping it. "But, seriously," she began once she'd left the charming gold-edged cup on its saucer, "How is this even supposed to work?"
"Elina will probably end up dragging him away to play with her dolls. Come on, Annabeth, she doesn't even have a father."
True, and her brother could probably take some parenting lessons, as stoic as he is. "Alright, fine. Do come up with something normal next time, please."
"I'll do more than that, milady," he said, gesturing with his hat, "I'll decorate this house into a magical fairyland just for you."
She felt a blush creeping up her neck and hurriedly hunched her shoulders. He always had such a tendency to be dramatic. "And where will you get those fairies?" she asked, straightening.
He drummed his fingers on his lap. "Err…by hassling the factory that custom-makes fairies."
Annabeth grinned to herself. "I'm extremely looking forward to my next visit here."
He met her gaze, startled. She swallowed, realizing that both of them somehow knew she wasn't joking. Embarrassed at her obvious display of like, she edged away from him, trying to surreptitiously angle her body towards something else. Behind them, Elina burst into giggles.
Percy couldn't help but crack a smile. As usual, it was unerringly infectious, and Annabeth's own lips curled up.
"How do you smile like that?" He whispered. "So politely, but sincerely?"
She cocked her head. "Sorry, what?"
"You just have your own smile." He looked hesitant to continue, but she gestured for him to go on. "It's almost like the parlor-room hostess smile, but it's kinder. Brighter."
She looked at him strangely. No one had ever praised her smile before. Or ever used those words to describe her. On a deeper, more rational level, she was wondering. She never diverted from the grain, Annabeth always told herself. But now, that seemed almost impossible. She'd danced with the person she'd should've avoided like the plague, and here she was, chatting with him in his sitting room. She'd worn her corset loosely, and chatted impolitely to a whole slew of other high-brow people. And now, even her once-impervious expressions had broken through.
She spotted Perseus studying her with a mix of curiosity and concern, and then the bizarreness of the list she'd just assembled in her head hit her. She let out a small, breathy laugh.
Percy raised an eyebrow. She pushed her hysterics, guilt, and shame away, shaking her head slightly. "It's nothing." She said honestly. "Thank you."
"Oh, um, it's my pleasure. You're welcome." He continued to study her, warmly this time, and suddenly he tilted his head. "Oh, I'm been meaning to ask. How has Calypso been? I know you've been meeting up with her."
She smiled slightly. "Yes, I have. We've been picking more dates for her to have dances, so she can meet everyone, and she's pretty much informed about all the gentlemen of Olympus. Piper's headed off to Paris for a bit because of her mother, so now me and Talia are just taking her down the neighborhoods in carriages and such. Neither of us want to bother with her suitors, which turns out to be quite a few. Silena wanted to commission a hothouse for her, just to keep all of them outside of her bedchamber, but her grounds aren't suited for that."
"I can imagine that. Atlas isn't the type to keep gardens, or anything else flowery. From the few meetings I had with him, he likes running and wrestling." He looked down at his lap. "But Calypso's a nice girl. She'll definitely get more and more suitors."
But he was once courting her, Annabeth knew. Her mind started spinning. Why then, and not now? Or just, simply, why? When she realized there was a hint of jealously creeping at the edge of her mind, she flushed bright red with mortification. Her theorizing stopped in its tracks.
Perseus was either pretending not to notice or he really didn't. "Well, the Season's almost ending. It's been an almost uneventful one, thankfully. Except for what I did at your debut." He grinned sheepishly.
"That was-that's fine." Questions started to burble up in her, ones she'd been harboring for so long. She desperately wanted to ask what caused him to change from that to this, but she kept silent. "Yeah, not too much happened, thankfully. Silena keeps wowing me with stories of the dramatic Seasons she'd had."
His eyes gleamed. "Do tell," he said, leaning closer.
Annabeth stifled a laugh. "Really? You actually want to know?"
He looked offended. "What? I want to be a knowledgeable citizen!"
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking. "Alright. Well, her sister, Drew, was already bordering on getting engaged to this earl from Spain, or something, when Silena got a calling card from a very handsome Apollo son. She started sending letters back and forth, changing the date, the location. Apollo himself read some of the letters, and then he decided to get involved. In the end, there were five dates in total, the last one where all four of them met up in Hyde Park. Drew pitched a fit and started yelling at Silena, who also slapped the Apollo boy. Silena packed her bags and disappeared to Paris for a while, but Apollo's son managed to track her down and flooded her mailbox. Eventually they met up on some romantic cruise and he apologized, and she returned to London. Then she met and courted five other men."
Percy held up his hand, looking equally pleased and confused. "What? How does so much happen in a few months?"
Annabeth smirked. "I'm not even done. She eventually rejected all of them because they all just wanted her estate, and were often making eyes at her sisters. She actually liked the chef's son, but he left for another home. And so on. Eventually, one day, her carriage broke down in the street while she was about to go shopping, and someone knocked at her door, offering to help her fix it."
"Who?" He asked, his eyes wide.
"Well, it was Beckendorf, of course. He fixed her carriage extremely quickly, apparently he'd carried spare wheels on himself, but Silena had fallen head over heels for him." Annabeth stopped and took a sip of her tea, feeling a little embarrassed at spewing so much information at once.
But Percy was clearly interested. "Really? That's it?"
"Well, Aphrodite immediately spotted her feelings from him, and tried to intervene by shipping handsome gentlemen from all over the world into her home, and Drew was basically falling over herself trying to court them all at once. But you know Silena. She gets determined about some things, and eventually Aphrodite's planning a lavish wedding for them and she has a three-carat diamond on her finger."
He smiled. "Wow. A lot can happen in a few months."
"Thankfully, the Season will soon be over."
Then they both went quiet. They both knew what happened when the Season ended. They started courting a single person, got engaged, and then married. But those people where decidedly from other worlds, ones where the both of them couldn't fit into. They'd always carefully skirted from this, and this time was no different as Percy changed the topic. "Oh, Annabeth, I was riding Blackjack yesterday. You will not believe what he did."
"What?" She smiled, relieved they were on even ground now.
"He tried to throw me off his back just because I nudged his side with my boot."
"Was it dirty?"
"Does that matter?"
"Yes!" She threw up her hands with fake exasperation. "I can't believe you, Percy! I bet you did it really hard, too. Poor Blackjack."
He scoffed in disbelief. "Are you really standing up for my egomaniacal horse? Stop spoiling him or he won't even let a single person ride him."
"He's a great horse. He doesn't deserve that, anyway."
Percy was sputtering now. "You and Blackjack, and all your specialized sugar cubes that he just loves," he muttered darkly under his breath.
Annabeth couldn't hold in her laugh. It spilled out of her, gangly and loud and the opposite of ladylike. She was letting loose a few snorts before she could compose herself. "You feed him carrots, Percy! And being your horse, he would never touch any leafy greens."
"Oh, and Porkpie's diet is all vitamins?"
"Porkpie isn't mine," she argued, crossing her arms.
"You two fit together well. You rode him perfectly, Annabeth. He suits your pace." His teasing grin slipped, and he looked at her seriously.
A little taken aback at his intense stare, she tried to brush it off. "No, Porkpie rushes around at an impossible speed. I almost flew off the saddle a dozen times."
"No," he shot back, his gaze burning. "You were leaning forward in the saddle, riding him with an ease like you've done it all your life. Like you could run side by side with him." He edged closer to her. "That impossible speed is something that belongs to you."
She swallowed, looked down at her lap. Finally, she got the courage to whisper, "Why are you telling me this?"
His voice, too, was barely audible. His gaze flickered about her face, never meeting her eyes. "Because I hate to see you slowing yourself down."
"I'm—not. I just can't."
He moved even closer, so close she could almost feel the warmth coming off him. "Yes. Annabeth, I'm telling you this because you've never let go of yourself, never actually looked over yourself. Because you don't relish moments where you run, where you become your true, inner self, but you brush them off. And I don't want that."
Her emotions were warring inside of her. She refused to believe that, refused to believe that Percy, who she'd only accepted as a friend a few weeks away could dig up something she hardly understand. And so bluntly, in the middle of this sunny morning. "You don't know what you're saying."
He blinked, slowly. "No, I don't. I have only pieces of you." Golden light, flashing through olive leaves glimmered in her mind. The wide eyes of her sister reflected in Percy's. She flinched into herself, but he kept going, speaking softly. "And I see you bury the most precious ones." His lips moved over words she couldn't hear. She leaned in, so close her arm was pressed against his. He repeated it, moving in himself. "You can fly if you want to, Annabeth."
She shifted backwards, shocked. "What?" she said, her voice almost a hiss. "How?"
New images appeared in her mind. His lonely office, the way his schedule was so packed, and the bronze crest of Poseidon gleaming dully in the dim stable. Shock and numb realization resonated in her. She looked up to see Percy staring out the window, his shoulders lowered. "Don't we both know?" This was completely silent; Annabeth had to read his lips.
An unfeeling ache had spread over her once frenzied emotions, glazed over with denial. She didn't want to hear what he was saying, wanted suddenly to run back over the line into familiar land. Where she tried her hardest to go with the grain, even if that sometimes just didn't work. Frustration boiled over and she leveled a stare at Percy. "Not now," she murmured. "It's too soon." Or, more likely, too late.
He sighed and rested a hand, gently, on her shoulder. Her nerves sparked with excitement and fire, despite of what was happening. "Sorry, Annabeth. We can…"
"Yes." They were further apart now. She glanced up at his profile, catching the glitter of his sea-green eyes. The familiar wind of comfort and peace and longing rushed her. She cleared her throat, and his hand slipped from her shoulder. She missed its warm weight, and didn't even bother to question that. "A new bakery opened on Main Street," she said, her voice summery and conversation, at a normal volume. "They have famous cookies. We should go try them."
He smiled ruefully at her. "You know, my mother used to bake with the chefs in the kitchen, sometimes when my father didn't require her. She makes the best cookies."
"I would like to have one, actually."
"Yes, after we go to that bakery." The old light was returning to his eyes. "But I guarantee you, anything else you taste will be incomparable once you have hers'."
"Perhaps, but my favorites, madeleines, will always hold the throne in my mind. That is unchangeable." A familiar surge of competitiveness rose in her.
"Madeleines?" He flapped his hand. "Not as good."
"Why, because they don't drastically increase your blood sugar?"
"My mother's cookies are healthy!" He planted his hands on his hips, looking a little like a child.
"Unbelievable, as everything else you eat isn't."
Percy narrowed his eyes at her jokingly. "Don't you know how buttery madeleines can get?"
"Don't you know how sugary cookies can get?" She shot back.
"Alright, you aren't worthy of trying them. And you are missing out the verifiable best dessert ever," he said snootily.
"Fine, you've won me over." Honestly, she was just eager to try something baked by the woman who won Poseidon's heart. A lady, out of all things.
But Percy thought it was his brilliant arguing skills and proceeded to flaunt and preen for the next few minutes. Annabeth had to laugh as he wiggled his finger in the air and continued hamming it up. And then her laugh died down as she began to carefully study the way his hair fell down over his tan forehead, how empathetic his gestures were, how his white teeth flashed in the light from how much he was smiling. And then he stared right into her eyes. "What?" he asked, challenging.
Annabeth's heart rate drummed in response to the floods of amusement and, strangely, a stream of contentedness, slipping through her veins. He leaned forward, and then she could hear her pulse roaring in her ears. Almost subconsciously, her mind began to turn, thoughts running on the back of her head. And then she experienced a strange phenomenon where she was only aware of his smile but her thoughts still quietly whispered, apart from her…and then a realization hit her like a brick.
All at once, her thoughts were crashing through her wall of distractedness, and blaring in her mind, as loud as day. She didn't bother to sort through them, only felt a part of her stir and lazily stretch, welcoming this revelation like it had always been lying in wait.
Her breaths shallowed in a mix of panic and awe, and she was so taken up with this that she barely felt Percy's hand on her arm, questioning. Her hands were fisting and releasing her skirt, but she was distanced from her too-slow body.
Finally, when the tide of surprise waned down to a roar, not a scream, she dared to raise her eyes and meet his, feeling no newer emotions that the ones that were already mixing inside her. Only a drip of courage as she held those emerald sea-colored eyes for four seconds…five seconds…six seconds…
Eventually, when he was looking overly concerned and bewildered, and another long-fingered hand was reaching out for her, Annabeth's thoughts managed to run into something slightly coherent.
Still holding his steady gaze, she felt certainty weigh on her as a voice in her mind announced, "I have feelings for Perseus Jackson."
Okay, this chapter was weird. Sorry. I didn't have anything planned for this, only that I seriously needed to write a new chapter. Sorry for that, too.
Um, the next one will come soon. Latest time Friday. And I'm hoping it'll be better, but who knows. Inspiration doesn't fall from the sky and my creativity comes either in torrents or in trickles. *shrugs*
But thanks, whoever's still sticking with me. You guys are really nice, thanks!
Rocketay: Working on that. Kind of. But it's really cool of you to actually read my A/Ns. I totally will send a really good one, just for you. Yup, it was clear but that was funny.
Guest: YAY! Thanks, that was so hilarious and completely brought a smile to my face.
Rosehunt8: Right…sorry…at least I didn't quit…thanks for encouraging me, though. If I leave for a bit, again, please remind me to get back here.
DemigodSassReaders: Thank you! It's basically the greatest thing ever to read something like that. Thanks for saying it was amazing, even when I felt it was weird. I haven't really kept it up, but I'll work on it. Heh.