running late wasn’t her area. frustration lit up teenaged countenance, the pink tinge making tanned features shade across nearly orange. out of breath, sore, disheveled, & nearly nineteen minutes late. the congested street adds layers to her agitation, thankful only for the edge of height & adrenaline as she scouted out the area. ❛❛ TENNYSON. ❜❜ midday throngs of people flicker the view * he’s tall enough that tufts of dark hair double as a marker above the ebbing crowd, making easy the haphazard route she takes to meet him. annabeth shoulders through, cutting across the throng. ❛❛ sorry i’m late. i had a run in with an empousa at macy’s. ❜❜ @akasakasadd












