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In the whispers of the morning, when mist still clings to the air and the sun begins its ascent, Annabeth opens her eyes, heavy and bleary with sleep. A small smile breaks across her face when she feels Percy wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Don't leave yet," he mutters.
"I won't, I promise."
Even through her pajamas, she can feel the rippling muscles in Percy's bare chest and arms as he shifts into a more comfortable position and presses his cheek into her hair and inhales.
"What are you doing?" Annabeth says, laughing.
"Your hair smells nice," he senses her confusion and elaborates, "the lemon and strawberry scent."
"You know, these are the moments why you're called a Seaweed Brain."
Percy laughs softly, "I know."
They lay there quietly, glad for the peace and comfort while it lasts. In this one moment, she takes in everything — the softness of the bed underneath them, the salty breeze of the ocean, Percy's arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her like she was the only thing he had. But with every minute that passes, the warmth of his body pressing against hers and the comfort of his presence grows further and further as reality draws nearer and nearer.
They still have a battle to prepare for, friends to fight for — a world to fight for. Frank and the rest of the crew were probably searching for them frantically at this exact moment, but Annabeth didn't care — not about the Argo II, not about the gods and their stupid wars, not about Gaea or Porphyrion, only trying to capture and hold this memory forever.
"Annabeth, we have to get up."
She turns, "Yeah, I know, but — "
"You don't want to, you want to remember this while it lasts, while we still have the time to somewhat enjoy our lives," he finishes for her.
Annabeth smiles, and looks up into his sea green eyes, "Yeah, how did you know?"
"Because I know you, like you know me," he replies.
"Figures," she mutters under her breath and Percy laughs.
After a long pause, Percy hesitantly breaks the silence, "I've been meaning to tell you about something."
"That's a surprise," she says sarcastically.
He raises an eyebrow, unamused.
"Ok, ok, what is it?" she asks.
"We're only a week from Mount Olympus," he starts.
"And?"
"Some of us are going to die there, most likely," he says.
Annabeth closes her eyes, grimacing, "Yeah I know."
Even though Annabeth could guess what Percy was about to say next, it still surprises her when he actually said it. Of the two of them, Annabeth had always been the one to plan ahead and lead their relationship.
"And when I don't mak-"
"IF you don't make it."
He looks unconvinced, and Annabeth sees a hint of something in his eyes, like he knows something the rest of the crew doesn't.
"Right, IF I don't make it, then I just want to tell you that-," he pauses and seems to gather himself, "I love you, and I always will. You are my life now, and that whatever future I might have, I hope that it will be with you."
"Percy, that's... that's really sweet,"
"But tell me again after the war, you're going to survive Percy, we're all going to survive," her voice is calm, a little frustrated.
"Annabeth -"
"No, Percy, listen to me! We're going to survive okay? We have to after all the gods have put us through! That stupid Lightening Bolt, the Golden Fleece, holding the sky, fighting Kronos," her body shook, "and - and, falling into Tartarus."
Annabeth takes a deep breath and stands, arms wrapped around herself, "We're going to survive okay? We have to survive. You have to survive!"
Even to herself, the words are unsure and empty. But there is also truth in them. Without Percy, life wouldn't be worth living. This black haired, green eyed boy has become a part of her, and without his kisses to wake her in the morning and his arms to warm her, she knows that she will follow him wherever he might go, even if that meant leaving the world of the living. Her mother had been right, she shouldn't have grown so attached to Percy, but the moments that they have together make up for it all.
A tear slips from her eye and her throat clogs up as a sob catches in her throat, "You're not going to die," she whispers again, "you can't."
He doesn't say anything, but his arms wrap around hers and pulls her shaking body into his, letting her bury her face into the space in between his neck and chest.
Later, when Frank finally finds them, he isn't flustered or embarrassed. The large, babyfaced boy who had been young and innocent no longer existed, and the sight of the two of them caught in each others tight embrace sends a pang of sadness through his heart.
"Breakfast in ten," is the only thing he says.
When he leaves, they pretend as if everything's normal, even if it is only for a minute. But Annabeth knows that they are needed and have to get up.
"I'm sorry Percy. It's just," she sighs, her eyes on his chest.
"Hey...Wise Girl," she finally gains the courage to look back up into his eyes, and there isn't any pity in them, only understanding and sadness and love. "It's okay, I'm here for you, always, and I know you'll be here for me. Just let go, for once, okay?"
Annabeth takes a shaky breath and nods, but as she sinks even deeper into the warmth of his body, she doesn't see his lips move soundlessly.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
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