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Of Corporate Scandals

Chapter 32. Future Plans

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She didn't say yes.

Instead, she let out a laugh and cupped his face between her hands, bringing him up from his knees. She kissed him, a good, proper kiss. Percy deepened it, his hands dropping to her waist.

Annabeth's hands dropped from his face, her fingers trailing lightly down his broad, rippling shoulders, down his strong arms, and she met his hands at her waist. She entwined his fingers with in hers, walking backwards and pulling him with her. She never broke their kiss as she dragged him into her old bedroom, now Thalia and Luke's guest room, and fell on the bed (her old mattress, just new sheets Luke had bought), pulling him on top of her.

But she didn't say yes.

Now, they laid together, a tangle of sheets and bodies, in the fading light of a New York sunset. Thalia and Luke could have already been home with dinner, but they hadn't heard anyone enter the apartment, they only heard themselves - their breathing, the sounds they elicited from each other.

Percy held her in his arms, his face buried in her hair, their legs intertwined, impossible to decipher who was who. He couldn't see her face, but he could tell she was lost in thought.

Percy trailed his hand across her collarbone, to her delicate shoulders, and down her arm, repeating the circuit over and over again, hearing the whirring of Annabeth's thoughts going a million miles an hour.

"Why not?" he murmured after a while.

"What?"

"Why won't you marry me?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't say anything. You didn't say yes."

Annabeth twisted up to look at him, "You weren't serious were you?"

He met her gaze, "Of course I'm serious. I wanna marry you Annabeth."

"I wanna marry you, too."

"Then say yes."

"Just not right now."

"Why. I love you. You love me."

"That's not enough of a reason to get married. We've only been dating for less than a year. We're too young. Life's too crazy, right now. With the company, all the drama happening, our parents—"

"I can't think of a better time to get married."

"This isn't a movie, a wedding isn't some plot device that will solve all our problems. I'm not saying no, just not right now."

"Then when?"

"When the time is right. it doesn't feel right," Annabeth started to get up and untangle herself from him.

Percy grabbed her hand, "Don't. Please."

Annabeth didn't say anything, but after a moment, she settled back into her spot next to him.

Percy didn't push the subject any further. She felt far away again.

She broke the silence this time, "Is this what you wanted Percy? Is this where you saw yourself? CEO of a company? One of the richest men in New York?'

"No," Percy said after a moment. "Not at all. I wanted to join the Peace Corps or something."

"Really?"

"Yeah, when I was little. Maybe even teach abroad. Nowhere near this, but I guess life doesn't always end up like how you planned it when you were little."

She didn't answer. Eventually, she felt Percy's breathing even out against her back. Annabeth tilted her head up to look at him, his eyes were closed. She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it gently.

The next morning, Percy woke up and everything was wrong. The light was coming in from the wrong direction, and the bed next to him was cold and empty. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, he remembered he was at Annabeth's old apartment.

Percy sat up, searching for his phone, but realizing he left it at the office yesterday. He stood, putting on his button up and pants from the day before, and walked out into the living room, fully expecting to see Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia all seated at the breakfast table.

But no one was there, "Hello?" he called out. The shower wasn't running, the coffee pot wasn't on, Luke's music wasn't playing. He was alone in their apartment. And shit, he still didn't have his phone, and they had gotten rid of their landline years ago.

He walked into the kitchen and saw the clock on the microwave - 10:37AM. Well, shit. It was Thursday so that meant Thals and Luke were probably already at work, and he was late. But where was Annabeth? Percy checked to make sure he still had his wallet before leaving the apartment, locking the front door from the inside.

Percy quickly trotted down the stairs and out onto the street, quickly hailing a cab. It was a pale, brisk morning, the atmosphere clammy like the sky couldn't decide whether or not it felt like drizzling. Percy flagged down a taxi fairly quickly. He told the cabbie his address, hoping he would catch Annabeth at their apartment. Percy felt uneasy. Where was she and why hadn't she woken him?

Percy paid with a fifty, not bothering to ask for change when the taxi pulled up to the curb in front of his building. The doorman greeted Percy as he hurried inside, desperate to get to the penthouse.

He fumbled with his keys, flinging the door open, "Annabeth?" He walked inside, shutting the door behind him. "Annabeth!"

No reply.

All the lights in the apartment were off so their living room was dim with only the pale gray light filtering through the windows.

Percy wandered into the kitchen, frustratedly running his hand through his hair. He couldn't contact anyone until he got his phone at the office, and he had to shower and change before he went there.

Something was wrong. There was a big empty space on the kitchen counter. Annabeth's red coffee maker was gone. Percy's stomach dropped.

He ran into their bedroom. The curtains were drawn so the room was dark, but light spilled out from their walk-in closet. Percy's dress shirts, slacks, ties, and suits were all still perfectly immaculate.

Annabeth's side of the closet was empty. He flipped the lightswitch on and surveyed their bedroom. Empty drawers were left open on their dresser. Her side of the shoe rack was spotless. The rack they had put together from IKEA to hold her purses was purseless.

Percy felt numb, but his feet led him to the living room. The only books on the coffee table were the magazines that he was on the cover of, there was no longer a trace of an architecture book in sight.

His apartment looked exactly how it was a year ago. He walked back into their bedroom, and sat down on their unmade bed. His eyes stung, he felt bile rise in throat. He was gonna be sick. He didn't dare breathe deeper than he already was or he'd smell her lemon vanilla shampoo all over their pillows. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. This wasn't fucking real. This couldn't be happening. He heard something crinkle as he shifted on the bed.

A note.

I'm sorry. Goodbye x

A/N: I know, updates twice a year for two years, and then updates three days in a row. Inconsistency, that's my brand! I don't know if you'll thank me for this one tho :) We're so close to the end.