of half-bloods and happenings
birth day
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Percy doesn't know the precise moment his daughter takes her first breath of the hospital air. He supposes it's sometime between when Annabeth stops screaming and starts crying tears which are the complete opposite of sad, but he will never know for sure. All he sees is the doctor swaddling a tiny thing in blankets and gently tilting her upwards so the Jacksons can see their baby's face.
She is so beautiful. Porcelain skin slickly coated with whatever came out of his wife's womb, eyes scrunched tightly closed and the beginnings of a wail building up in her needle-thin throat. But none of that matters when Percy sees Annabeth's smile, when the doctor places the bundle in her arms and leaves to take care of the paperwork. Their baby girl wriggles in her mother's grip and Percy just can't help it; like his wife before him, tears spill over from the rims of his eyes and suddenly all three of them are crying, and he and Annabeth are laughing, and their daughter is held between them like a promise of things to come, and finally, finally when she creaks one eye open, then the other, and Percy sees his own green mirrored back, he thinks that this is truly Elysium.
He leans forward and drops a gentle kiss on their daughter's cheek, then shifts upwards and gives one to Annabeth as well. "Happy birthday, baby-girl," he whispers to his daughter. "Happy birthday Zoë."
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Author's Note: So a lotta stuff's been going on with me, but basically, I haven't abandoned you guys. Seriously. Please accept this drabble as a peace offering. xx